#but once i started i got swept away by my emotions

[drefear]

Daddy Issues Part 2

Best Friend’s Dad!Miguel x Reader

TW: a lot of angst, a lot of sad, a little bit of fluff, jealousy, smut p in v, oral (m and f receiving) awkward shit between Gabi and you and Miguel.

AN: ok here it is! Part 2 is here and now I can focus on HTTK so here ya go :)

Part 1

Weeks. You’d been avoiding Miguel for weeks.

Every day, you thought about that night. The way he touched you, spoke to you, held you. You had sex before, sure, but that… that was next level. A different world.

That was intimacy.

You cried almost every day. He had tried calling you a few times, but you never answered. The whole event felt too painful and your heart couldn’t take it.

Gabi came over and you told her a story that you had met some guy and he swept you off your feet, but he was controlling and had a temper. She sympathized and held you as you cried and that made everything so much worse. How could you do this to her? Sleep with her dad and lie to her? You had to be the worst friend in the world.

During this time, you had finally moved out of your and Gabi’s apartment, and spent some time back with your dad while looking for a new apartment and getting some auditions.

As you sat on the couch and shoved popcorn in your mouth, your eyes still watered and burned. Some gross love story was on and it made you sad once more, the lingering heaviness in your body coming to the forefront of your mind.

The doorbell could be heard and you got up to answer it, not giving a damn that you were in baggy sweats and a big sweater. Swinging open the door, your eyes froze.

“M-Miguel?” You sputtered, seeing him stand awkwardly at your door. “What are you-“

“Miguel!” Your dad cheered and hugged his friend, pulling him inside past your shocked frame. “We’re having a family night again. You used to love those, hon!” Your dad continued and Gabi stepped inside with her boyfriend. You nodded and followed.

Wonderful.

You moved close to your best friend and sat on the couch, Gabi rubbing your arm comfortingly as she tried to make you feel better. The second Miguel looked at your small frame, face stained with tears and a bit puffy from crying, he hated it. And it wasn’t like you were enjoying it either. All of your emotions started to come up in your throat like nausea.

The guilt you felt about lying to Gabi, the anger you felt towards him making you feel-

How did he make you feel?

Angry. But also… sad. And amazing.

You couldn’t deny the whole experience was almost otherworldly.

You got up abruptly and mumbled a quick “I’ll go make something,” before hurrying into the kitchen.

Miguel moved to follow you before Gabi caught his arm.

“Don’t. She might snap at you.”

Miguel nodded, “that’s ok, she can if she wants to.” And with that, he continued.

You stood, turning on the oven to put in some cookies. You loved baking cookies. They were soft and warm, like a hug. You could really use a hug.

“Mi cielo…” his voice had that same effect as he spoke while you stared ahead at the tray of dough.

“Go away.” Is all you could say without turning into a sobbing mess. His hand found your shoulder and you spun around fast, stepping out of his vicinity. “I said go away.” You repeated and heaved, the upset building in you wildly.

He clenched his jaw, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“This is not the time or place to do this, Miguel. My dad and my best friend- your daughter is in the room right next to us. If they hear this, neither of them will forgive us.”

The words coming out of your mouth made your hands tremble and your stomach sick. How could you have let this happen?

You turned your head and moved to check on the cookies. “We need to act like nothing happened.”

“But I-“

“No. Nothing happened.” You repeated and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I’d like to talk about this another time, because while you have nothing to say, I do. And I’d like it if you'd hear me out.” His words made your mouth dry as you just sighed and nodded, not able to even answer. Your brain was fried, you felt ambushed. You knew your dad was just trying to cheer you up, but he had made this so much worse for tonight. To sit in a room with two people you lied to and the person your heart aches for the most, yearns to touch and hold and love. But that could never happen. He was best friends dad, he was supposed to be like family.

Once he exited the kitchen, you let a few silent tears fall. The conflict inside of you was roaring like a storm at sea.

You’d finally found an apartment, a place by your dance agency that had a beautiful view of the city. It was absolutely perfect. Cute little kitchen, a master bedroom and a big closet, everything was a dream. You signed those papers and paid everything upfront, having saved a lot from sharing an apartment with Gabi.

Moving in was easy, since you didn’t have a lot of furniture and your dad said he’d help you out. He planned a fun day of helping you move in.

And he invited Miguel and Gabi.

Yay.

As you saw your father standing in your new doorway, your arms swung around his neck. “Thank you, dad.” You couldn’t help but be giddy about it all.

Gabi was behind him, and behind her was… Miguel. You hugged Gabi and gave Miguel a polite smile, mumbling a “hi Mr. O’Hara,” and pulling in Gabi to show her around.

The men started to carry in the big furniture, including the couch your father bought you as a gift and the bedframe you got at an antique shop. You plopped down on the mattress and spread out your arms, staring up at the ceiling. This was the beginning of your true freedom, your independence.

Someone clearing their throat stirred you out of your daze and you leaned up on your elbows to see Miguel. You just huffed. “The boxes are all in the living room.” He said and you nodded, “your dad brought some food and beers, said we should all break in your new place together.”

“Of course he did.” You murmured and bit your lip in frustration, trying not to be so rude. “Fine.”

An hour later and you were still stone cold sober, not having even a sip of a beer and only drinking water. Miguel was still nursing his first beer as Gabi and your dad had already made it to their second.

“So, Miguel!” Your dad smiled, leaning on a knee, “how’s the girlfriend?” Your body stiffened and your eyes stayed trained on the water bottle in your hand.

“Ah, she’s not my girlfriend, it’s not serious.” He went on and you began to drown him out. You didn’t want to hear any of this, you just wanted to be alone in your new apartment.

“Come on, man. Six months and still no title?”

“Six months?” You gapped and everyone turned to you, making you glance around and realize your error. “I-I’m just shocked, is all… that’s a long time to not have some sort of commitment… or loyalty.” Your eyes flickered to his and a slight bit of hurt and anger tinged his features, still trying to play it off as if he was unbothered.

“Like I said, it’s not serious. But it feels nice to be with someone mature…” he leaned back and took a long swig of his beer, eyes never breaking from yours. You tightened the grip on the bottle in your hands and then looked back to your dad.

“Sorry dad, didn’t realize you were the only single person in the room now.” Your smile was normal and sweet to everyone else, as if you were teasing your father, but Miguel saw through it. This was a competition now, a challenge.

“You have a boyfriend?” His voice was meant to sound relaxed, but it was a bit harsh.

“Oh no no, it’s casual. Just hanging out.” You shrugged, “men are really just a distraction right now, ya know? They all just want one thing, and I’m not into the whole ‘multiple women’ vibe. Men who entertain more than one woman at a time are disgusting. Pigs, really.” You went on about this and his mouth found the bottle once more, tipping it back and downing the rest. He immediately moved to pop open another and you smirked.

You, 1. Miguel, 0.

He was quiet the rest of the night, listening to Gabi and your father trade stories as you laughed along and gave snarky comments. When the night was finally over, you wished everyone goodbye and were about to shut the door when a hand stopped you.

“Forgot something.” Miguel’s voice said from the hallway and you found yourself being pushed backwards by him opening the door wider. He closed it behind himself and his eyes glared into yours with fury you recognized once before.

“So, a new guy?” He spit out and you stayed quiet. No words came out and this made him angrier. “What? Nothing else to say? You sure had a hell of a lot to say before, why not now?”

“You’re drunk, Mr. O’Hara-“

“Cut it with the ‘Mr. O’Hara’ bullshit.” He barked and you flinched, “you’re seeing some fuckin twerp now?”

“You have a girlfriend.” You spat back at him and he rolled his eyes.

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re just-“

“Six months. You’ve been seeing her, taking her to dinner, seducing her for six months. That’s a relationship!” You shouted at him and Miguel’s eyes just fell to the floor. “Just get out, I don’t owe you an explanation. I can see whoever I want, I can fuck around and be a whore if I really wanted to! It’s none of your business!”

“You’re mine, so it’s my business.”

“No I’m not.” You yelled and he grew still. The heavy tension fell on your shoulders and your tears spilled down your cheeks, the breath in your lungs burning from inhaling too hard. The two of you stared at each other for a bit before you whispered, “You and I had sex. That doesn’t mean I’m yours. Not when you were fucking her the whole time.” His eyes dropped to your hands and he just nodded before clicking his tongue.

“You’re right. I’m too drunk for this… congratulations on the new apartment, amorcita.” His tall frame walked to the door and before you could stop him, the door was shut and he was gone.

Days later, and you were still a mopy mess. Everyone noticed your lack of friendly-nature, it was like the sun was gone. A knock on your door made you stir and sit upright. You opened it and saw your father, smiling face and holding a bag of groceries. Your dad stepped in, put everything away, then sat on the couch. You’d been crying before he got there and he saw that, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” He asked quietly, like he was trying to soothe a beast. You cried more, surprised that the well still was not dry, and he held your hand. “It was Miguel, wasn’t it?”

Your whole being shuddered and your eyes snapped up to his.

“Yeah, I see how you look at him, how you smile… I might be an old man, but I know my little girl.” He pet your head. “Listen. I’m not going to say I’m happy about this, because I think he’s far too old for you… but you’re a woman, and I know I raised a smart girl. Just always think about if he’s worth possibly losing your friendship with Gabi.” He pecked your forehead as you sniffled, thinking about his words. As he stood up, you grabbed his hand.

“Dad?” Your voice cracks and he looks down to your sad form. “I love you. Thank you.”

You fell back asleep soon after. Sleep was your only safety blanket, your only holy ground. It was the coping mechanism you shouldn’t have, but desperately needed. Sometimes, you’d end up sleeping at your father’s house from not wanting to be so alone.

Time went by so slowly and finally, a phone call woke you out of your deep sleep, answering without noticing the name. “Hello?”

“Can I come over to talk?” Miguel’s voice was full of gentle fear, like he was afraid to scare you away.

“Where are you telling Gabi that you’re going?”

“She’s with her boyfriend. Mi cielo, Please.”

“Fine. I’m at my dad’s tonight. He'll be home in an hour, and I don’t want him here while we talk about this.” You rolled out of bed and moved to the bathroom.

“I’m on my way.” You hung up after he said that and placed your phone face down on the bathroom sink. Staring at your reflection made you realize something…

You looked awful. You got yourself ready as usual, finally washing your face fully and doing some skin care, brushing and flossing your teeth, brushing your hair and pulling it into a ponytail, and finally putting on a summer sun dress.

You looked like yourself again. And it felt good.

The knock at the door was like a calling card for death, it felt like the end and a sinking feeling grew heavy in your stomach. Thank god for waterproof mascara.

Opening the door, you saw him standing there with a single rose in his hands. You stared at the flower before meeting his eyes.

“Why… did you bring that?”

“Because I saw it and it reminded me of you.” His words made your heart flutter, made your head almost dizzy with the happy hormones, but you needed to keep your cool.

“Um. Thank you.” You took the flower carefully and stepped aside so he could come in. “We… need to talk.”

“I know.” He nodded and sat down, spreading his legs a bit and unbeknownst to him, showing off his large size. He watched you sit across from him, crossing your ankles and playing with the flower in your hand as he cleared his voice. “I should apologize.”

“Yes, you should.”

He smiled, your biting and firey personality showing again. There was his girl.

“When your dad called and asked about the shirt, I was surprised. I didn’t think an old man like me could- would ever get that attraction from a young woman again…” he spoke, “you’re everything that a man could love. Everything a man could ever need, but… I’m too old for you, and I don’t want to hurt your friendship with my daughter.”

You nodded along. His eyes followed your movements, as if waiting for a response, but you didn’t give one.

“So?”

“So, if that’s all you had to say, you can leave now.”

“What?” He was shocked. He- he was trying to admit he wanted you but couldn’t have you, and you were just brushing him off?

“You heard me. You might have another date lined up after this, and I wouldn’t want you to keep her waiting.” The rage in your throat was coming out fast, and you might just start yelling at him if he didn’t leave soon. “Spare me the pity party for your age, Miguel. You know that you’re gorgeous, you can get anyone you want. So cut the shit. Who is she?” You barked and he leaned back, surprised.

“What are you talking about?”

“That woman! She made you so hot and bothered on that stupid date that you fucked the first girl you saw afterwards. Is that the woman you’d been seeing? What’s her name?” You bubbled, louder now. His eyes saw something he never thought he would in yours. Jealousy.

“She- she’s a coworker, it was just dinner-“ he mumbled and you laughed. You laughed!

“Just dinner? Do you think I’m stupid? That’s the one you’d been seeing for months, right?”

“Mi corazón, I don’t know what you think happened, but it didn’t-“ and something hit him. He didn’t owe you an explanation about her. But you wanted one.

You shared his feelings.

This was a revelation. You weren't upset because you regretted everything, or were worried about Gabi.

You were upset because you liked him.

Miguel smiled wide and that just stoked the fire inside of you.

“You think this is funny?”

“Hysterical, actually.” He moved forward and grabbed your wrist, yanking you to sit on his lap. “Because she could never be you, amor.” He tilted your chin with his index finger to look up at him. “I’d choose you a thousand times over.”

You were speechless. “You… would?”

“Well, that depends on your relationship with this boy, because if you were single, I’d chose you. I’d ask you on a date.” His words made your face burn with a heavy blush. “So?”

“So that boy… never existed.” You admitted shyly, avoiding his eyes contact as he laughed harder. “Shut up!”

“Go on a date with me.” He repeated and you nodded, then swallowed thickly.

“But… we need to tell Gabi.” You announced and his body stiffened, that familiar fear he felt before creeping in. “She deserves to know what’s going on.” You watched his eyes. “We already crossed a line we can’t erase, she should be aware that we might start seeing each other.” His hand found yours and he sighed, nodding.

The front door opened and your father stepped inside, barely glancing at the two of you as you both froze. As he took his shoes off, he smirked at you two.

“So the talk went well, I see, which means I’m making some rules. Rule number one, no sex in the house.”

“Dad!” You shouted, standing up fast and stepping forward.

“And protection is a must. My little girl isn’t getting pregnant before she can make her dreams come true-“

“Oh my god, stop talking!” You begged and he folded his arms, Miguel standing up behind you.

“He’s right. He’s just doing what any good father would do, mi amor.”

You visibly saw your father cringe. “Rule number two, no lovey-dovey talk in front of me please. That includes pet names.” He smiled, "I'll let you two have a few more minutes, but then I’m watching the game.” He walked to the kitchen, to which you moved to look at Miguel again.

“So. I’ll see you…”

“Tomorrow. We can tell Gabriella tomorrow.” His voice was firm, a man on a mission. Your man on a mission.

You were dressed in her favorite color. Why? Well, since you were about to tell her, essentially, thatyou wanted to fuck her dad, you figured you’d try to score all the points you could get. You’d keep the fact that you did already a secret for now.

As you got to Miguel’s house, your heart pounded in your chest. He wanted you to meet there so her boyfriend didn’t have to be subjected to the innate awkwardness of the situation.

You tugged at your skirt as you stood, finally knocking on the door. It swung open mere seconds after and you came face to face with Miguel. Your heart skipped as he looked at you and smiled.

“You look… wow.” His eyes were so sweet and puppy like, you couldn’t help but laugh. This gargantuan man was so soft for you, and you thrived for every second.

Holding your hand, he spun you to see the back of your outfit too, then pulled your hands to rest on his shoulders and bent down to press a slow kiss to your lips.

Grabbing the backs of your thighs, he lifted you to wrap around his waist and your hands slid into his thick brown hair as you kissed him back. Your back hit the couch and you gasped as his lips connected with your throat.

“Miguel- she’ll be here any minute!” You spoke, trying not to moan as he smirked against your skin, pulling down one strap.

“I’ll make it quick, I promise.” He whispered and moved his hands under your dress skirt, sliding your panties to the side. “Can’t help it, mi cielo, you get me so hard just looking at you in these damn dresses.” His words had you breathless, combined with his fingers prodding your entrance. The unzip of his pants made you practically dizzy, feeling his swollen tip dipping into you a bit. You took in a sharp breath as he groaned, “so wet already,” and pushed into you. The stretch was intense and your body curled into him instinctively from the burn. “Just a few more seconds, I promise.” His forehead leaned against your and you nodded, your hands pulling at his hair and making him want more of you. His mouth began to suck a bruise into the cleavage of your breasts and your head fell backwards as he sunk into you more, finally bottoming out completely. It was surreal, being filled with him, surrounded by his large body, and having all of your senses drowned in him. Your eyes almost crossed from the feeling it brought you and if you’d been more aware, you’d have heard the door open. But you didn’t, and so when he began rocking into you and lifted both your legs over one shoulder, your mouth fell open in blind pleasure. Your name fell from his lips and your nipples were rock hard from the sensation of him brushing his pelvis against your clit.

“Dad?” A feminine voice struck your ears and your eyes snapped open, upside down and staring at Gabriella looking away. Looking up, you realized Miguel was still moving. He didn’t hear her.

“M-Miguel, stop!” You called out and he immediately halted his movements, looking over your face. You pulled your straps onto your shoulders and stared at Gabi’s face, eyes wide with complete shock. Miguel’s eyes followed yours and he finally realized what was happening.

“Mierda…”

An awkward 20 minutes later of Gabriella refusing to come out of her room, she finally let you in and you sat on the bed with her, face still red as a beet and knee bouncing anxiously.

“So. You and my dad.” She said and you looked up with fear and regret.

“Gabi, I’m sorry, it just happened-”

“I figured it might.” She trailed off and your mouth hung open. “You always sucked at hiding your feelings, and he was always way too protective of you.” She stared at her shoes, “I just didn’t think it’d actually happen, ya know? Like I knew it could, but I didn’t think it actually would.” Your eyes filled with tears, scared to lose your best friend.

“Gabi… I’ll stop if you’re uncomfortable, we’ll stop-”

“And make you both miserable? No thanks. If there’s anyone I’d want my dad to be with, it’s you.” She sat next to you finally and put a hand on your shoulder. “And same with you. He’s had a little crush on you since your sophomore year of college, always just kinda staring, ya know? I tried to ignore it, but when we went to dinner and you two were dancing… it was just kind of obvious. And I want him to be happy.” Gabriella held your hand and you immediately started crying.

“Gabi-“

“But I’ll hurt you if you hurt him. And same goes for him. If you two do this, neither of you can fuck it up. I mean it!” She gave you a serious look and you nodded, smiling and wiping your eyes.

“I love you so much, Gabi.” You whispered and hugged her tight. She sighed and hugged you back. “Just… please don’t ever make me see that ever again.”

“I’m so sorry, I won’t!” You pulled away and looked at her face.

“And I’m not calling you mom either, so don’t ask.”

“God no don’t do that. I would hate that.”

“Ok.” She looked away. “So… is this why you were avoiding me?”

“Yeah… I couldn’t really face him.”

“Well, try not to think about that anymore, since this is happening now.” She heard a knock at the door and Miguel’s embarrassed form stood in the doorway, guilt on his features.

“You!” Gabriella stood up and threw a pillow at him, to which he caught reflexively.

“I’m sorry! I thought you were going to come back later.” His hands went up defensively and she glared at him, making you laugh.

“I don’t ever want to see that ever again. I don’t want to hear it, I don’t even want to think about it.” She shivered with disgust and you started laughing. Everything felt right.

That was until Miguel's work event, which was a few weeks later. He’d invited you as his date, and you excitedly agreed. Picking out your dress with Gabriella, you pulled out a long gown with a high slit to the leg.

“At least with that one, he won’t rip it.”

“Gabi!” You flicked her arm and she shrugged.

“Isn’t Danielle gonna be there?”

“Who?”

“Danielle, that woman he was seeing before you two started dating?” Gabriella glanced up at you from her phone as you stopped everything you had been doing.

“Oh.” Is all you could fathom. That’s right, she was a coworker. Your hands trembled a bit and Gabriella rested a hand on your shoulder.

“He never talked about her, and all he ever talks about anymore is you. So don’t worry.” You nodded and stared down at the blue dress. You bought that dress.

It’d been a few weeks of you and Miguel being together, practically inseparable. He had you sleeping at his house every other night, refusing to let you leave because ‘driving home would be too dangerous at that time of night.’

You knew he just wanted to hold you all night, to continue the constant overstimulation he loved to push you through. Whispers of ‘you can do it,’ ‘one more for me,’ ‘such a good girl, mi cielo.’ You’d twitch, tears streaming down your cheeks from the burn of your muscles, legs around his shoulders as his face buried into your cunt. His face was wet from how many times you’d already been pushed too far over the edge, finally kissing up your body as he smirked, pushing into you. No matter how many times you’d orgasmed, it would always be a stretch to fit him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he chuckled. He loved watching you come undone all over his cock all night long, leaving bite marks on your chest and shoulders, feeling your nails leave angry, red marks across his back. God forbid anyone ever saw you two naked the next morning, they’d think you both got into a war with stray cats. Your favorite was when he was about to come inside of you, and he’d pull your wrist to his lips, kissing you there while he unloaded in you, then dropping his forehead to yours and smiling.

The night of the event, you were pushing your breasts together in the dress. Tugging the fabric to fit perfectly, you stared at yourself in the mirror. The navy blue velvet was snug against your curves, the neckline plunging down the center and the slit high on your thigh. It was long sleeved, balancing how much skin was showing perfectly, and you paired it with silver strappy heels. Bouncy curls falling down your shoulders and elegant, simple makeup, you were the picture of grace and beauty.

Yet, the knot in your stomach made you want to lie and say you couldn’t go, that you were sick, that something came up, that you couldn’t go- anything to stay home and not have to see her.

But it was too late, and a knock at your door made you hyper aware of the time. Grabbing a clutch you’d picked to match the dress, you hurried and opened the door.

“Mi cielo-” His eyes dragged over your form and then back up at you. “Preciosa, por dios.” His voice dropped an octave and you smiled, feeling him pull your hand into his chest and kissing your wrist once more, your favorite feeling. You blushed as he spun you around with him, kissing right below your ear and moving lower and lower…

“I’d ravish you right here and now if we weren’t going to be late.”

“I think I’d rather have you take this off of me.” You answered and he pulled away a little, checking your expression.

“Por que?”

“I just- I’m nervous.” You avoided his eyes.

“I’ll be by your side the whole time, I promise.” He spoke softly and you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. That wasn’t the problem.

Arriving, you couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful decor and elegant architecture of the chosen establishment. It felt like something from a movie, and you felt eyes on you. Turning, you saw Miguel staring at you with a wide grin on his lips, just watching you as you gawked at the interior. His hand slipped into yours and you smiled up at him.

“Let’s find our seats, amorcita.” He whispered and kissed your temple, escorting you to the table in the front of the room. You both went to get drinks and he began to mingle, introducing you to many people you couldn’t remember the names of.

A pair of heels clacking from behind you made you turn a bit and there she was.

That woman.

You made eye contact with her and she refused to look away, practically glaring into your soul.

“Y-You must be Danielle.” You reached out to shake her hand, and she obliged, looking you up and down in judgment. Everything about this introduction made you want to crawl under a rock. She hated you and you would too if someone stole Miguel from you. You originally did, actually.

“Yes, and you’re the little brat who stormed out of his house, right? The one his daughter’s age?” She answered and your stomach dropped. Shit. She tilted her head and gave you a condescending smirk. “Not much to look at, are you? But I guess sometimes a man wants someone who can make him feel young and alive again. That’s a phase, and he’ll get over it-”

Miguel’s arm wrapped around your waist as he walked up to you two and he stared down at Danielle, making her suddenly stop talking and start playing nice in front of him. Your body was shaking a bit, thinking about what she’d said.

“Miguel, nice to see you.” She smiled up at him, bright red lips showing off her white teeth, and you immediately felt inferior. This was a grown woman, an adult who’d worked her way to her position, with degrees in science and more. She was on par with Miguel, and you were just a wannabe dancer.

“I wish I could say the same, Danielle.” His somewhat rude answer made you gawk up at him.

“M-Miguel-” You stuttered, and he continued.

“This is my girlfriend, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make her uncomfortable just because you and I have a brief history.” This was too much for you. He was protecting your honor, standing up for you, but you felt pain in your chest from the anxiety. You thought you might pass out then and there. Pulling your hand from his, you rushed to find a quiet place alone. Moving to a hallway separate from everything else, you pushed open a door and sat at a chair and table. The lights were out and you heaved in a long, much-needed breath. A presence could be felt behind you near the door and you slumped your shoulders.

“I just needed a minute, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.” You apologized and his hands on your shoulders made you feel even worse.

“Amorcita, you have nothing to apologize for. She shouldn’t have been so rude.” He whispered, pulling your hand to stand up. “Let me show you that she was wrong.”

His lips trail down your shoulder and he begins to unzip your dress. Your breath stutters and you glance to the door.

“Did you lock the door?” You ask, panting already from how hot his kisses get you.

“It doesn’t lock, so we have to be quiet.” The dress begins to fall from your arms and you gasp as the cold air against your chest, feeling his hands hold your sides and push the fabric to fall to the floor. He trails one of his hands to touch your clit and he smirks. “No panties? Sucia…” Your head falls backwards onto his shoulder as you grab his arm and he kisses into your hair. “Come on, preciosa, just focus on me.” His words send a shiver down your spine, fingers rubbing in circles as you see stars. Sliding down further, his finger enters you and he growls. “Dripping already, perfect for me.”

You moan and his other hand wraps around your mouth. “Quiet, besita.” You nod and writhe against his hand as he continues plunging his finger inside of you. The curl opf his digit makes you see white behind your eyelids and you feel everything inside of you explode, unexpected and fast. He takes his finger out of you and licks it, unzipping his pants and pulling himself out. He tugs his slacks down a bit and bends you over the dining table, hand sliding up your back and tangling into the hair at the base of your neck. Sliding into you, he puts his other hand onto the front of your belly and thrusts hard. The bulge moves into his hand and his head drops a bit, feeling himself through your stomach making him even more wild for you. Your body was perfect for him, the best thing that had happened to him in a long time, and he couldn’t be more grateful. He wanted to show you that gratitude and so he’d pleasure your body until you understood what you meant to him.

Your gasps and quiet begs made him continue to slowly thrust and rut into your heat. It was sensual and rough, without being too fast, and this made you practically melt in his hands. Your coil was tightening within the seconds and the pull you felt against your scalp as he pulled your back into his chest, now fucking up into you from behind harder. The new angle made you snap, making your mouth drop open and heave in a loud, muffled shriek. You couldn’t help it, he was always so good at maneuvering your body. Your entire being trembled and he pulled out of you, which made you push him backward. He stumbled into the wall behind him and you got on your knees, tongue out and immediately sucking around him. His hot length in your lips was absolutely heavenly, and seeing as you two hadn’t done this before, he was watching you with wild, eager eyes. The view of you on your knees between your legs, his cock in your mouth, and you slurping him like a woman possessed made him practically insane. Miguel couldn’t take much more, and when he felt the tip of his dick hit that back of your throat, that was his last straw. He came hard down your throat and you gagged on the thick spurts, but not once did you cough or spit. You drank it up, licking your lips and never breaking eye contact once.

He was frozen, shocked. His precious girl, his angel… his innocent woman was everything he dreamed of and more. He’d been holding back and staying on the more gentle side, but now? Oh, now you’d opened a door that he didn’t ever want to close.

Standing up once more, completely naked, you bat your eyes to him and he pulled you against him, kissing you feverishly. After a moment more of hard, rough kisses, you panted and pulled away.

“We have to go back out there.” You whispered and he huffed.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“You’re giving a speech, Miguel, you have to go back out there.” You insisted. His hands gripped you with no intent of letting go, but you were able to pry him off of you. Picking up your dress, you wiggle it back on and properly placed, but the marks on your body and the makeup on his face was hard to miss. He tucked himself back into his pants and groaned, trying to pull himself together. You both worked to make yourselves presentable in silence and finally turned back to each other.

He watched you smile a bit and reach for his hand, and he knew she was wrong. This wasn’t a phase. He loved you. He would keep you forever and there was no possible way he’d ever think of anyone else ever again.

Going back out to the party, you both stood by the bar and you excused yourself, walking to the ladies room while he waited for your drinks. You stood in the mirror and stared at your reflection. Your hair was a mess now, and your lipstick was smudged, as well as a few black mascara marks from tearing up while gagging on his cock. You couldn’t help but smile at this, until you saw Danielle behind you. Turning to her, a fear struck you but immediately dissipated as you smirked.

“What’s that look for?” She questioned and you couldn’t help but laugh,

“Just thinking about how unsatisfied he must have been if you couldn’t keep him.” You stared directly into her eyes. “I was planning on being the bigger person, but after having sex with him just now, I think I’ll say fuck that and give you my honest opinion. You’re a miserable, boring bitch. Have a great dinner and I hope you find someone as vanilla and mundane as you.” Your words were like knives being thrown and each one landed with precision and grace. You weren’t one to back down and you wouldn’t start now. Walking out of the bathroom, you turned back to say one last thing.

“And you should know, Miguel never even mentioned you.” You winked as her mouth dropped, leaving without another word. Finding your wonderful boyfriend again, he handed you the drink you had ordered and you bit your lip.

“What’s that look for?”

“I may have said a few things to Danielle just now.”

Miguel blinked with surprise and just laughed. “That’s my fiesty girl.” He said and sipped his drink, slipping his hand around your waist again.

The night went by beautifully after that, talking and laughing with his friends and hearing his speech. You two had left with smiles on both of your faces, and that night, Miguel proved over and over how much he cared for you.

And he continued to prove it every day for the rest of your lives.

Epilogue

Tags: @pllao @itzsab @smo66y @misswonderfrojustice @cyberbugg @jollybananaqueen @eeryyy @nightma @topreice @poppyflower-22 @yoonlith @miragemurder @ihateuguys @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @minaxcarter @autismsupermusicalassassin @migueloharaslxt @mintqueenjo @chshiresins @um-well @kxszy @miguelswifey04 @mushy-mushroom04 @tymns @oxrchd @mimiamma2002 @allysunny

[heliza24]

Armand and Unbreakable Cycles

So (perhaps unsurprisingly at this point) I have a TON of Armand thoughts after yesterday’s episode. Specifically I want to talk about the function of the 1790s section, and how it perfectly illuminates the cycle of maladaptive behavior that Armand is caught up in and the difference between his stated wants and his actual needs. I think the setup we saw in this episode will also be crucial to understanding how Dubai plays out, so I want to talk about that too.

I know a lot of people love the show and TVC because of Lestat, and there’s some frustration that Lestat was presented in a way that was untrue or filtered. But I really think you have to view this episode as a lens into Armand, which we in turn need in order to understand Louis. Everyone has someone similar to Lestat’s role in Armand’s life; an ex or a situationship or a former friend who takes up so much real estate in your brain because of their outsized impact  on you, who probably never thinks of you in return. We give these people a role in the story we craft of how we became who we are. That narrativizing is kind of the only way to understand yourself and survive (especially if you’re going to live forever). So I don’t doubt that there are things that Armand says that are untrue, or exaggerated, or twisted in his favor. But I do think the important part is the emotional impact his encounter with Lestat had on him, and I do think he’s being honest about those emotions.

(That being said I am of course very excited to see these events play out again in season 3 from Lestat’s POV. Don’t fuck it up AMC!!!)

The main thing that the flashback does is set up the cycle that Armand finds himself in over and over again. He consistently finds himself clinging to control in an institution he is starting to lose faith in, and is then shaken out of his complacency by a new love that seems– falsely– to rescue him.

Depending on how they adapt his very early backstory, I think we can probably assume that this pattern started in childhood for him. Marius rescued him from being forced into sex work, and seemed to offer a much better life. But in reality he was just grooming Armand. (Thanks @toriangeli for correcting a piece of my Marius lore here!)

In Paris he continues maintaining a strictly enforced life of misery for the coven long after he stops believing in it himself, and (by his telling at least) he was grateful to Lestat for having the strength to end it when he could not. It’s so clear why Armand falls for Lestat. Lestat’s refusal to live in shame, his love of the arts, his ability to exist amongst humanity (at least when he is on stage). Lestat is of the world, while Armand and the coven hide from it. 

The reason I think it is so important that we got to see this play out in Paris is the way it illuminates the sometimes tricky relationship between Louis and Armand. Once again, Armand is the head of an institution that operates on strict and oppressive rules. Once again, we can feel Armand’s enthusiasm for this system waning (and see it reflected physically in the lack of ticket sales and general shabbiness of the theatre). And once again, Armand is swept off his feet by this new vampire who refuses to join, who loves humanity, and who has a passion for art. Louis is very much of the world. He refuses to be pinned down into coven life. Armand can’t resist taking what looks like the opportunity for escape in Louis’s love. 

What I think is so fascinating about this cycle is that it allows Armand to remain passive. He never has to be the one to make the hard call to walk away from a kind of life that is no longer serving him. He just has to wait for the next gorgeous man to arrive to deliver him.  As he says to Louis, “those with the most power are often the weakest”. His status and power in the coven prevents him from changing his own life. Or at least that’s what he believes. 

Thinking about this helped me understand the dynamic of what goes down in the sewers, when Armand threatens Louis’s life. Assad says in the behind the scenes clips that Armand goes into that encounter very set on killing Louis, and I believe him.  So I rewatched it a couple of times trying to understand when, and why, Armand changes his mind. The shift occurs when they start talking about Claudia, and Armand says that her mind will break apart soon because she was made too young. Louis says “you don’t know her,” and Armand responds, “I don’t have to. I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen too much.” That admission– I’ve lived through this cycle multiple times before, it is painful, and I don’t want to do it again– is what shifts Armand from being ready to kill Louis to letting him go. 

There is of course an irony here; mentally ill and child vampires do not necessarily need to go mad. Generally they go mad at least partially because of Armand’s actions. And as we’ve already discussed, Armand going to sleep with Louis instead of killing him is really just a repeat of his actions with Lestat. He isn’t really breaking a cycle at all. But I think in that moment he believes that he is. Maybe he even believes that by being with a man who enacted great violence on Lestat, he can drown out the love and anguish he still feels about Lestat. At the very least, Louis has also loved Lestat and can therefore understand Armand’s narration of his own life in a way that not many other people can. 

Ok, so now we are caught up on the past. Let’s talk about Dubai, and how once again Armand is engaged in the exact same cycle of behavior.

The penthouse is Armand’s new coven. He maintains perfect order by controlling the physical environment and shaping Louis’s moods and memories. But just like before, this way of life is no longer serving Armand (or Louis for that matter). You can see that the spark between them has died, only rekindled as a kind of performance when they are in front of Daniel. When Armand is telling Daniel about Lestat destroying the coven, and Daniel accuses Armand of leading Lestat to the coven intentionally… he might as well be talking about himself. Armand has let Daniel into his fortress, and there is at least a part of him that wants whatever destruction Daniel is about to bring into his life.

Daniel fits Armand’s type completely. Daniel is of course more human than Lestat or Louis could ever be. He knows about telenovelas and Bollywood and all other types of art. He’s whipsmart and inquisitive and is not going to let Armand get away with passively maintaining his old order. He’s of the world in a way that Armand finds irresistible. 

I specifically found it interesting how many of the “Great Laws” Armand would be breaking by being with Daniel. Granted, Armand isn’t in the coven anymore when he meets Daniel. But I imagine old habits are hard to break, and being with Daniel would break almost all of them. Daniel is a mortal Armand has revealed his true nature to and allowed to live, Daniel has written about and exposed vampire secrets, and (if we’re looking at book canon) Daniel begs for the dark gift himself, a thing only the maitre is supposed to be able to approve. 

Assuming that a chunk of Devil’s Minion did happen in the 1970s, something interrupted that love affair, before it could settle back down into a new but still oppressive status quo. Something prompted Armand to actively break his pattern of behavior and erase Daniel’s memories. I think it’s impossible not to think about Nicki’s example here, especially after seeing the 1790s flashback. I’m going to assume that 1970s Daniel was struggling with addiction and mental health issues in a way that may have been reminiscent of Nicki. How intentional was Armand in withdrawing because he saw what vampire involvement- his involvement- did to Nicki? How much was his treatment of Daniel a reparation for past mistakes he made?

These last couple of paragraphs are speculation, really, because we won’t know exactly what Armandaniel looked like until Ep 5. But I think it was crucial that we saw this part of Armand’s story before we see San Francisco, because his actions with Daniel will make more sense if we can compare them with the love affairs of Armand’s past.

Regardless, I do think the disparity between what Armand claims to want (maintaining the status quo) vs what he actually wants (to be liberated by a romantic partner) vs what I think he actually needs (to take action himself, instead of waiting for someone to do it for him) is going to play a role in the way Dubai unfolds. I don’t know that Armand will ever get to the point where he’s actively able to break out of the cycle he’s in, because this is Interview with the Vampire, the show of fucked up gothic romances. Vampire life is a series of bad decisions! It’s a weird arrested development you never quite get out of despite living for forever! So it would make total sense if the ending of Dubai mimics the ending of the Children of Satan and the Paris Coven in an unhealthy way. But regardless, it’s gonna be a fun ride, and I can’t wait to see it.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

When They Know They're In Love ~ Frostheim Edition

I will be doing the other houses and will link them here once they're posted. I hope you like this and if you did, please feel free to send in requests for what you'd like to see.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Jin Kamurai, Thoma Ishibashi, Lucas Errant, Kaito Fuji x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How do the characters know they're in love and what will they do when they realise?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jin is not exactly the most in touch with his emotions. He knows he feels something around you. Does he think it’s some weird side effect of your ability or him using his stigma after so long? Absolutely.

It will take him a long time to figure out that what he’s feeling is actually love but when he does, it’s when you’ve finally snapped at his treatment of you.

You’re tired of being treated like a servant and you’re letting him have a piece of your mind.

And suddenly, his chest is tightening, and he’s got butterflies, and he realises just how beautiful you are.  How did he never notice this before?

It might take him a while longer to accept his feelings and pursue you properly but when he does, expect to be swept off your feet by the effort he puts in to making you feel just as strongly about him.

Thoma is a lot more observant than Jin. He’ll recognise his feelings almost straight away when he sees how hard you’re working both to get to know the ghouls and to break your curse.

He’s found a kindred spirit in your hard-working attitude. But he won’t act on those feelings for a while.

He’s busy with his own work and, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think he could handle getting into a relationship with you, only for your curse to take you from him a year later.

I think it would take a life-or-death situation for him to confess. Something where he nearly looses you before the year is up and he realises he has to tell you how he feels before you’re gone.

Whether a relationship blooms from that is up to the two of you but Thoma’s a practical guy. Whatever you’re decision, he’ll make it work somehow.

Luca is an interesting case. I feel like he’s aware of his feelings about certain things but not others. Love is one of those things he’s not super aware of.

He knows how he feels about close family like his brother. But you? He just doesn’t register his feelings towards you as romantic at first.

He finally puts it together when he sees you asleep in the library, a book open in front of you with information relating to his brother’s situation.

The rush of affection he feels towards you in that moment is so strong, even Luca can’t misunderstand it as anything else. Now he just has to confess.

He won’t drag it out and will likely pull you aside next time he sees you. He’ll be perfectly gentlemanly and explain his feelings, as well as letting you know that any decision you make, he will accept.

Kaito is certainly in touch with his emotions, but I don’t think he would realise the depth of his feelings for a long time.

If you’re female presenting, he would just assume what he’s feeling for you is his usual affection towards women. If you’re male presenting, he’ll just assume you’re a really great friend.

He realises he’s in love with you when he gets a message from another person and realises the sinking feeling in his stomach isn’t a normal reaction.

Honestly, I feel like Kaito will be a bit freaked out by his feelings to start with. He’s not used to really caring about people and he’s not entirely sure where to start.

Once he does come to terms with his feelings and realises he wants to be with you as more than just a friend, he’ll do his best to up his game so you fall for him the same way he fell for you.

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[lurkingshan]

hi!! i was wondering if you could recommend some good high school japanese (or from other countries) bls? all this time i avoided them cause i felt old and uncomfortable but yesterday i finally watched one and the pureness and warmth of these sweet kids experiencing their first love really warmed my heart and brought back memories of my own first crushes. thank u in advance and I hope u have a wonderful day!

Hi anon! I firmly believe we are never too old to be swept away by the nostalgia of a good high school show. There are specific emotional buttons that get engaged by a coming of age or first love story, and it's comforting to see both reflections of experiences that were similar to our own and fantasy versions of a high school experience we never got to have. I support you venturing into high school bl!

This is not a comprehensive overview of all bls with high school age characters, but a solid list of great shows that center that high school coming of age/first love experience in their stories, in a mix of moods and tones. I'll start with some favorites from Japan, and then include a few from other countries, as well. I hope you like some of these!

Japan

I Cannot Reach You

This is a classic friends to lovers first love story done exactly right. I don't know anyone who watched it only once, it's so satisfying.

If It's With You

A boy who is jaded before his time meets an earnest hottie when he moves to a new town and school. Feelings ensue.

My Love Mix Up

This one puts the com in romcom, with a confused bisexual chaos muffin setting off a comedy of errors as he tries to figure out who actually likes who among his classmates.

Takara-kun to Amagi-kun

A simple story of two boys trying to navigate their first relationship and figuring out how to go about dating and interacting at school.

Eternal Yesterday

On the tragic end, this is a story of first love that ends abruptly due to accidental death. The story is an exploration of the grief and stunted growth that results when someone so young suffers a loss so monumental. It's an absolutely beautiful show, but not a light watch.

Philippines

Marahuyo Project

This is a gorgeous show about a brash and loud and proud gay kid who gets sent to live on a small island after an incident at school, and decides to create an LGBTQ+ club at his new school. This one has a social education agenda, but it's also very funny and sweet.

South Korea

Light on Me

The story of a confident gay boy and his love triangle where you will actually like everyone involved! A rare gem in these drama streets.

Where Your Eyes Linger

And on the angstier side, this one is the story of two friends, one of whom has been raised to be a caretaker/bodyguard for the other, struggling with a realization of feelings between them. The power dynamic and social class divide between them feature heavily.

Taiwan

History 3: Make Our Days Count

Possibly a controversial pick, as this one has a tragic ending that is hard for a lot of people to stomach. But it's a great high school show that includes two first love stories, one between a beautiful himbo and the studious boy who catches his eye, and the other between his very sweet best friend and an older man he meets through his job.

About Youth

This first love story between two very nice boys struggling with school and family issues manages to be incredibly sweet while also dealing with some heavy topics, and features a couple amazing original songs that still get stuck in my head all the time.

The On1y One

This is such a pitch perfect high school story that I'm putting it on this list before it technically finishes airing. Two high school boys meet when their parents move in together and decide to get married, and begin to heal each other. This one nails the angst and yearning.

Thailand

My School President

Possibly one of the cutest high school romcoms of all time, and it features a student band so there are a ton of original songs. This is a story about a boy who runs for class president just so he can save his crush's music club. It's two nice boys who like each other and the shenanigans they get up to with their friends.

I Told Sunset About You

And for the completely opposite experience: the ultimate angsty coming of age queer awakening story. One of the most beautiful dramas I have ever seen, and so evocative and emotionally resonant that it is actually hard for some people to watch because it's too real.

[whiskeyghoul]

Coloring pages || [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A/N: This has been stuck in my mind for weeks now and I needed to put it down. This is the first fic I had proof read by someone! Enjoy and please like and reblog when you do. 

Tags: Fluff, tooth rotting fluff, just fluff, coloring pages, spencer reid x gn!reader I think.

You stood outside of the Quantico building, leaning against the side of your car. The air had the early autumn chill, it wasn't cold but your oversized sweater sure made it a lot more bearable to be outside of the car for an extended period. You were waiting for your date to be finished with his work. Boyfriend. You corrected yourself internally. Boyfriend of 6 weeks, 3 days and 5 hours to be exact. Which, with Spencer as your boyfriend you had to be.

He is handsome, kind and so incredibly intelligent it is sometimes just a tad frustrating. His rambles were interesting and you could probably listen to him for hours on end. You also wanted to spend time together just enjoying each other's company. Being together, that was your type of love. The affirming touches that the other was there. The comfortable silence you enjoyed so much where you could hear soft intakes of breaths. Glances at one another to confirm that the other was still there. You loved when Spencer had invited you over to his apartment once, he still had some work to finish so you'd picked up a book from the many shelves and made yourself comfortable on his worn couch. You had looked up from the book and over to him, seen him deep in thought as he looked at the lines of writing, jotting down notes next to it. His brow slightly furrowed, lips pursed ever so slightly as he thought particularly hard. Completely unaware of your admirations of him from the couch. That's what you liked.

People began filing out of the building as the sun set, you watched and watched to catch the first sign of Spencer. When you did see that messy brown hair bounce slightly as he walked down the steps a smile spread across his face. You mirrored his expression, every time you saw him it brought a smile to your lips. A gust of wind picked up, ruffling his hair even further as he bound over his long strides causing him to stand before you in, what felt like, mere seconds. "Hey." He said softly. His hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear that had been swept up by the wind. His fingertip grazed the side of your temple. "Hi." You returned just as softly. "How was work?" You asked as you looked into those big, brown eyes. They were filled with warmth as he looked into yours. "It was good, no new cases which I was hoping for since I wanted to see you." Spencer spoke his emotions as he pulled his hand away. "Good, because I have something planned." You said with a smile, turning on your heels and walking back to the driver's side.

"You have something planned?" Spencer asked as he quickly dove into the passenger seat. Tucking his bag between his feet. "I do." You say as you put the seatbelt on, feeling his eyes on your profile. "Can I know?" He asked, impatiently tapping his fingers against his thighs, an air of excitement surrounding him. "Not yet. It's a surprise." Your voice sounds melodic, sing-song-y even, on the last sentence as you turned the key and started up the car. "Tell me more about your day." You say as the music over the speakers softly filled the car and the heater worked to warm your cold tinged hands.

Spencer had talked about his day, you were intermittently interrupting him with questions before he asked about your day. You were still going on about a coworker who had annoyed you when you parked the car in front of your destination. The bookstore and café combo where you had your first date. You got out and quickly snatched the tote bag you had haphazardly laid on the backseat before turning back to Spencer. "The bookstore? Why are we here?" He looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes playfully and put the tote bag over your shoulder. "Because we're going for coffee." You answered and held out your hand which he took. You saw his eyes dart towards the tote bag, that soft crease between his eyebrows forming as he pictured all the possibilities of what its contents could be. “Coffee at 5 P.M.? You know that feeling unaffected by caffeine could be a sign of a genetic difference or you have built an increasingly large tolerance. This could be a problem once you start ingesting dangerous amounts of caffeine unbeknownst to you.” Spencer rambled as you entered the coffee shop. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll get a tea then.” you say as you get hit by the smell of fresh brewed coffee, pastries and books. There was music softly playing in the background. The shop was warm.

Pulling Spencer along to the table where your first date had been, you sat down, shedding your fall jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. The tote bag was placed on the table, only a slight peak of its contents spilling out. Spencer’s eyes darted to it, wanting to know what you had planned and why you were being so secretive. Quickly, your hand found its way to cover the contents, pressing the tote bag shut. “After we get our drinks.” You teased, there was a sparkle in your eyes, seeing him this interested in what you were planning made it all the more fun to keep him in the dark.

“Really? Can’t you just tell me?” Spencer questioned, giving you the most pleading eyes he could muster in that moment, you were surprised he didn’t pout at you. Just then the waitress came over, taking your coffee and tea orders before walking back behind the bar. When you had looked at her Spencer seemed to have taken his chance and snuck a peek inside of the bag, before you knew it he was pulling out a set of colored pencils. “Spencer!” You admonished playfully, snatching the colored pencils out of his hand and sticking them back in the bag. “What? I was just curious.” He played innocent, giving that sweet smile he knew made you weak. “You brought colored pencils?” He tilted his head slightly, his soft curls falling away from his face. You reached out across the table, tucking a stray curl behind his ear like he had done with you before, “I did.” Your answer came with a soft sigh before folding the tote bag slightly open and pulling out the matching set of colored pencils and a book of coloring pages. “I guess the cat is out of the bag.”

“Why did you bring coloring pages?” Spencer looked confused at the book, flipping through the blank pages filled with outlines of forest scenes and insects. An amused smile on his lips, “Aren’t we too old for that?” He asked, his tone was a slight teasing one. You know he didn’t mean it to be hurtful at that moment, but still he didn’t seem as excited about it as you were. You bit your lip, holding back the twinge of disappointment that shot through your heart.

“I thought it would be fun to do something together. It’s not a children's coloring book, but you know… I wanted to work on a page together, so we have something we both did.” Your voice had an edge to it, the disappointment you tried to hide still managed to bubble its way to the top. It felt horrible, that such a little thing could make this big of an impact. Your hands fidgeted with the end of your sweater, picking at the sleeve with a hint of defeat. Eyes cast down on the table. “Woah, hey, wait no I- I didn’t mean anything bad- I just-” Spencer stumbled over his words, quickly reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. Moving his thumb soothingly across the back of your hand. “If you want to, we will. It looks fun. Really.” He corrected himself, his eyes finding yours. You could see the hint of regret at his earlier words, his sincerity in his current ones. The disappointment still lingered, but the warmth from his hand was quickly spreading through your body to wash away any doubt. “Really?” You asked again, wanting the extra confirmation. You attempted a smile, it was half hearted still but at least it was somewhat reassuring to yourself. “Really, I just get to pick what we’re working on.” Spencer smiled back, giving your hand a soft squeeze before letting go to pick up the book again.

You watched Spencer flip through, taking a quick look at the different pages until he found one to his liking. Placing the book open on the table, a flowery field with butterflies and bumble bees. “This one.” he said, looking to you for confirmation like he could make the wrong choice. “That’s perfect.” Your voice was soft, still trying to get over the disappointment from before. It was nearly gone, leaving you with mostly warmth in your heart. You grabbed the two sets of colored pencils, opening them, and setting them out on the table. Just then your drinks were brought out, a chai latte for you after Spencer’s comment about caffeine, he still had a cappuccino which made you smile a bit. You handed a set of pencils to Spencer before picking up your chai and taking a tentative sip. It was hot but delicious. 

“Alright, so how do we start?” Spencer asked, looking at the page then back at you. “I want to color it together. You can start over on your side, I start on mine, meet in the middle?” You said, placing your cup back down. “Won’t it be mismatched? should we at least have the same color green for the stems?” He suggested, suddenly seeming a bit more into it than he had been before. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. The same blue for the sky too?” You added, opening your own set of pencils. You picked out a blue, matching it with one from Spencer's set. He did the same with the green, handing you the matching pencil with a smile. “Let’s get coloring then.” He said before turning his attention to the paper. You followed suit, touching the colored pencil to the paper and began to fill in the white space.

You kept picking up pencils, filling in the flowers with different colors, sometimes your hand would meet with Spencer’s while drawing and he’d look up with a smile. Soft bumps and touches that affirmed you were both there. Light chuckles and laughter with your coloring interrupted by each other. Your heart fluttered at how he had thrown all his earlier judgment aside to make you happy. Looking up he was focused, smiling at the paper as he decided what colors would fit best. Sometimes asking for your opinion. Intermittently his drawing was interrupted by sips of coffee. Wiping the residue off of his lips with his sleeve before going back to the page.  The way he was focused was cute, hairs falling in front of his eyes, a grin on his face as he gave in to the childlike whimsy of doing a coloring page. It was refreshing to see him with his shoulders relaxed, focusing on anything but words. Letting the surrounding sounds of the shop take over. Slowly you felt yourself be more and more focused on Spencer rather than the drawing. Once he noticed, he looked up, the smile still plastered on his face, “What?” he laughed out the question. One of the more beautiful sounds you’ve heard, though you wouldn’t tell him that. You shook your head no, laughing softly “Nothing.” You answered with a genuine smile. “There’s something.” Spencer pushed, still smiling, holding back the laughter that bubbled up inside of him. “You looked very focused, that’s all.” You answered, shrugging nonchalantly before you finished up your drink that had gone lukewarm from the amount of time you had been sitting there. “Well, so did you. Just not on the coloring anymore.” Spencer teased, making a blush creep to your cheeks. Biting your tongue to hold back from throwing out a retort that would have been completely unnecessary. 

Your eyes cast down to the coloring page, it was almost completely filled with your combined efforts of removing every spot of white. It was beautiful to you, a bit messy but that made it perfect. Spencer looked down too, regarding the page with a certain air of pride. “I think we should frame it.” he spoke up. Your eyes darted back to his face, to see if he was joking or if it was serious. His expression was relaxed, no sign of any funny business. “Why?” You asked, a hint of confusion in your voice this time around. “It’s the first thing we made together.” His words made your heart skip a beat, the way he was so sincere had such an effect on you. “We’ll have to make another for my place then.” you answered. “Or you’ll just have to come over by my place more often to see it.” Spencer smiled, his words a thinly veiled excuse to see you in his home, to have you over, spend time together. 

You smiled, quickly leaning over the table to steal a kiss after he finished his sentence. “I’d like that a lot.”

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 6

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 6 - Restart

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.9k

AO3

Chapter 5

You walk into Quantico with a new sense of purpose after having drinks with Prentiss last night. The barrier that the section chief had built up with assumptions and unknowns had been removed and replaced with cautious optimism. That you can work with – a mutual understanding that you’re both on the same side, you meant no harm and were not a threat to the BAU. As it was a workday, you only shared another drink together but the two of you nursed them slowly.

As you still couldn’t say much about your past, you did elaborate on the high-speed pursuit that Tara hinted at.

“Yeah, so it all worked out. Dumb ass fell right into the spike strips. Took care of that quick once I got ‘em there,” you explain before taking another swallow of beer.

“They never learn.” Prentiss smiles and takes a sip as well. “But keeping pace with them was something else. No wonder they panicked.”

You smile. “Yep! Intel was good that they weren’t carrying much. They fired off a few rounds here and there to scare us off. Try and get me to fall back. They just never got the memo that the CIA Surveillance and Pursuit class was renamed cuz of me.” You raise your beer and wink at Prentiss. “Now affectionately known as the Maniac Chase Class.”

“Oh my god! That was you?” She laughs, shaking her head in amazement.

“Yeah. I gotta wee bit carried away on my third try.” You shrug coyly. “Really wanted to beat that record.”

“You demolished it.” She smirks. “And the car.”

“Which slid across the line for a new record,” you explain with pride and then pause for dramatic effect, holding your arms out, beer still in hand, “And … I walked away without a single injury.”

“See, that part I thought was all hype,” Emily admits and looks inquisitive.

“No, sadly. It helped I was young and dumb when I did it.” You say with introspective embarrassment. “I was so fucking stupid.”

She snorts with agreement while doing mental math. “Wait, how old were you when he recruited you?”

“Young,” you vaguely admit.

“But you joined before me,” she says, knowing you were aware of her records and nod that she was correct. “I joined late ’97 and everyone just naturally talked about the course like that.” You heard the implication. She meant that the nickname wasn’t a new idea and was trying to figure out how much longer you have been in the CIA before she joined.

You clear your throat in caution. “Leave it alone, Prentiss. I … I honestly can’t say anything more.” You grimace, knowing you already said too much.

Emily didn’t press for further information, but you knew she gleaned enough to make educated assumptions. You felt like a fool, letting your guard down like that, but the conversation flowed easily between the two of you. It felt … nice, being able to connect with someone new. That hadn’t happened since Rebecca.

You’ll need to keep your guard up since Prentiss reaffirmed that you would be a proper member of the BAU starting today. They would want to get to know you, and you them. You just have to remember to tone it down and not get carried away with enthusiasm. Keep Brian’s wisdom close to your heart that this is new to you and ground yourself. Don’t get swept away with emotions, like last night.

It was a late start at Quantico for you since you had to start at Langley. The stipend funds had been approved and your signature was needed on a lot of paperwork. Finance assured you that the money would be deposited into the BAU budget by the end of day. Prentiss would be able give Bailey the proverbial finger on Monday when she distributed the funds, pushing the unit into the green, leaving the penny pincher helpless with his mission to disband the BAU that way.

Prentiss had texted you that the team would be ready for you in the conference room discussing their current caseloads and leads and would wait for you, providing you that proper do over with them. You appreciated that and said as such in reply.

As you head off the elevator to the sixth floor, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and belonging. You even put a little more effort into your outfit, choosing a charcoal grey pants suit with a black sleeveless semi-spread polo collar, and comfy black work shoes with decent tread. You had your backpack on, holding the straps over your chest as you survey the area.

True to her word, the team was already in the conference room. Garcia happens to see you first and smiles big, giving you a quick, animated wave that caught Prentiss’ attention. She was standing and angles her body to the left to see who was there and visibly relaxes noticing it was you. The team follows her gaze as Prentiss gestures for you to join them.

JJ looks from Prentiss to Rossi, who was suspiciously smirking up at Emily. “And why are you smiley this morning?”

“Hm?” he looks over at her as Prentiss’ attention turns towards the exchange. “Oh, just delighted Whitlock can join us. Orientation’s a pain in the ass.”

He was equally relieved and surprised that Emily spoke to you as quickly as she did. Because of that, he wouldn’t press the orientation fib being told to the team.

“Man, I wish I had the short version like she did when I joined,” Luke grumbles playfully.

“Yeah, but you needed a lot of work honey, and honestly … still do, unlike our CIA cutie,” Garcia chides as you walk in.

“That my new rank?” you say with twinkling eyes and a brow raising to the group. “CIA cutie?”

The members collectively chuckle and laugh at the joke and as you look at Prentiss, she was fighting to keep her lips from curling upwards.

“No. Still a consultant.” Prentiss admits. She gestures to an empty seat between Tara and Garcia. “Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”

You nod and slip past Prentiss, sliding the backpack off your shoulders. You place it on the ground behind your chair and sit down. As you look at the BAU members starting back at you, you feel daunted. But you got this and look eagerly at Prentiss to kick this off.

“I know things have been hectic this week with all the changes and assignments and getting Whitlock up to speed on FBI protocols. She still has a few more items to go over, but I’m pulling her in since we can use all the help we can get,” Prentiss explains. “Garcia, mind getting Whitlock up to speed where we’re at?

Garcia immediately speaks up, almost bouncing on the seat at the chance. “You got it, Ma’am.”

Emily winces and presses her hand down towards Garcia. “What have I said about that?”

She smiles. “Not to call you Ma’am.”

“Please remember that.”

“You got it, Boss Ma’am.” Garcia says cheekily.

Emily sits down in a huff, and you have to cover your mouth to hide the smile on your face. The team did not hide their amusement at the banter.

“Anyway,” Garcia says and laces her fingers together before turning her hands inside out to crack them, “time for catch up!”

Her fingers dance across the keyboard and immediately your eyes go to screen depicting a U.S. map with sixteen dots. Each dot had a line that led to a description of the kill kit number, contents and the city and state of its location. Two of the dots are red, the others blue.

“We have recovered fourteen of the sixteen kill kits, no thanks to our firebug in holding right now. The two missing are from Indio, CA and Rockville, MD and your technological goddess is monitoring anything in the surrounding areas that sounds Sicariusy like.”

“How wide’s the radius?” you ask.

“Fifty,” she answers while you nod. “So far nothing’s pinged that shouts out, ‘I’m a Sicarius henchmen’. However, Mr. Dishonorably Discharged had a test kit that was really oooooold based on soil samples.”

“Five years isn’t that old,” JJ says.

“But the kits being activated by Sicarius, it is,” explains Rossi. “All the lockers we’ve found have new tech, supplies, chemicals …”

“Lab did confirm the soil samples from our kits are newer. So why give Green something older?” Prentiss asks the team.

“Maybe this one fit Green’s M.O. better?” Luke offers.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” says Rossi.

“What are you thinking, Dave?” urges Prentiss.

“That Green was set up?” you offer, looking between Prentiss and Rossi.

He half smiles, impressed, and points to you casually. “Kid’s good. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Maybe he was testing Green to see what he’d do. Confirm if he was truly loyal or not.”

“And either way, Sicarius would get what he wanted. A big explosion or expose Green for who he really is,” JJ says emphatically. “

“All right.” Prentiss takes a moment to digest this and addresses everyone. “Give me some options.”

Luke leans back and gestures to Garcia. “Green was the last to see his sister. So, we’re thinking a cognitive interview might help him remember any details of that night. Anything that could help him ID the guy that took her.”

“Good luck trying to get him to agree to it,” states Tara. “He has big problems with authority figures. He won’t cooperate unless he has good reason.”

“How’s not finding his sister’s killer a good reason?” you ask.

“Oh, he’s really pissed off.” Prentiss says as you raise a brow. “We took away his chance at catching Sicarius and enacting his revenge.”

“And he really doesn’t like that I’m a Fed again.” Garcia pouts with that admission. “He sent me all that info thinking I was still distanced from all of this.” She gestures wildly at the room.

Prentiss looks sympathetic. “But we have to try. Luke, I need you to talk to Green and get him to agree to the cognitive interview. JJ, keep watch on the exchange.” They both nod and she addresses Garcia. “Keep working on any leads that might help us find those missing kill kits. Whitlock, you’ll assist.”

You visibly perk up at the sound of your name and look thankful for a hands-on opportunity. Inwardly, you were doing backflips. Prentiss could feel you buzzing with internal excitement and chuckles. “Not like you can catch up on any paperwork you don’t have yet.”

Rossi and Tara groan while Luke and JJ share a smirk.

“Oh, don’t even,” admonishes Prentiss. “You both get to play catch up in between interviewing Green until a case comes in.”

Luke is silent, lowering his head in defeat as JJ frowns while pouting. “Aww.”

Now that the team had their assignments, Garcia was utterly giddy and squeals towards you. “Come Robin! To the Batcave!”

Garcia catches you up on everything over the next few hours. From the hidden message apps on the unsubs phones, to the discussion forums, and how Sicarius used this to gain followers so he could teach them the ways of being sadistic killers. She had identified the usernames of the unsubs and was able to find that they all chatted with Sicarius - User45125. They also learned about the different murder methods that matched up with the bodies found in the shipping container. Out of the lockers that are missing, the BAU believes that kits would contain methods to kill by acid and strangulation to match the last of the victims.

“I can’t trace any direct messaging, so that’s why all of this is based on the forum info me and JJ combed through,” Garcia says, ending her lengthy summation.

“What a sick fuck.” You shake your head in disgust. “Play with the first round of victims and pass all that fun on to his new friends who do it all over again.”

You were sitting to the left of Garcia, lightly turning the chair back and forth with a foot on the floor. To your delight, it didn’t bother her. It was a habit you developed over time to help you think. You look over the conversations that Sicarius had with the unsubs and Green. He definitely narrowed down the chosen ones based on their psychopathic thrills.

“How many are on this message board again?” you ask, gesturing at the screens.

“Over half a million. Which just…bleh!” Garcia pauses, shivering for dramatic effect, “Makes me feel all squicky that there are that many of them chatting in one spot. But I narrowed down the really, really, bad naughties to seventeen k.”

“Damn. Fucker’s been busy.” You go silent as you calculate options with the information the BAU had.

Garcia glances at you, seeing your eyes darting back and forth in concentration. “What’cha thinking there?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just … “ you pause, words softening, “a half formed thought. A possibility.” You turn towards Garcia. “Can you narrow the users further by who hasn’t been active in a few months? At least since Green last contacted Sicarius? Bonus if longer.”

She blinks rapidly at you and looks put out. “Can I?!” She then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Since you’re new, I will let that slight pass, but there is nothing I can’t do, missy.”

Except get your file, but you don’t need to know that!

“Apologies, M’Lady!” You smile, making sure to file that away to not offend the bubbly woman in the future. “If you would be so kind and continue working your magic?”

“And the lady shall be kind!” Garcia says with vigor and starts narrowing down the possibilities further.

The two of you work diligently over the next few hours. You guide Garcia with different traits to knock down the users into something manageable with the information that can be extracted from text. Emoji use, shorten expressions, length of posts, seeking knowledge and showboating instead of trying to engage in an emotional connection, aggressive language use, and interests.

“Here you go.” Garcia calls up a list of usernames that fit your specifications. “One-hundred and thirty-four.”

“Have any of those spoke to our guy at length? Something substantial?”

“Hm, yes!” She pulls those up.

That got you down to thirty-eight. “And how many of those appear to have contacted him through direct messaging?” You couldn’t know for sure but based on the flow of conversation and quality, there were hints.

She types quickly. “Ah, fourteen.” She shows you the names.

“List them by last known contact with him – earliest to latest.”

“Done.”

“Now pull up last few messages from each.”

“Also done.”

You read through them, ignoring the majority as you skim but there were a few that stood out.

Dark_Muse: Fucking cunt is finally gonna pay!!! Girls night is gonna end on a high!!!

_piouspisces: Woke up from a dream today. Hope it comes true. Just have to set up the right ingredients. Need advice on lacing paper. I have some ideas but need confirmation.

FlamePit23: The world only makes sense at sunrise and sunset. It’s when it looks like the world is set on fire. Beautiful.

You point to that last username. “Show me this one’s profile.”

Garcia clicks on it and reads. “’Nothing burns as bright as the rage inside you. Cultivate and embrace it. Keep it under your control’. Oh, they go on to say to never make any friends. That’s cheerful and lonely.”

“But they admitted to ‘nurturing others so I can take them off guard. Like my mother did to me when I was younger’ makes me think this one’s female,” you say while tapping the screen. “What’s the date and timestamp on the last message?”

“That would be … August 12, 2022 0550.”

You would bet that it was close to sunrise on that day when the user posted.

You pull your hand back to cup your chin in thought as Garcia looks oddly at you. “You know, I’ve been doing this a really, really long time, and I can usually predict where people are going with their data mining. But you? I have zilch of an idea because this makes no sense to me.”

You heard she was talking, but you weren’t listening. You were too focused on formulating a plan.

She puckers her lips in annoyance at being ignored and snaps her fingers twice in front of your face. “Hello?”

“Oh!” you say, jerking back into awareness. “I’m trying to come up with a crazy plan.”

“Please tell me this won’t result in you going AWOL again …” Prentiss had entered and neither of them had heard the door open.

You and Garcia share a look wondering if she even knocked as Prentiss walks in further expectantly. “Well?”

You sit back and reassure her. “Ah, no. Course not.”

“Wait. So, you really went AWOL?” Garcia asks curiously. “Did you serve before the CIA?”

“I didn’t serve.” You bit your lower lip and nod, coming to terms with what you can say. “I did some training with military personnel. All informal.”

You and the other four recruits had gone through training with the Green Berets, Navy Seals, and Delta Force. Something you couldn’t disclose as it technically never happened, hence, the informal part of your cover. You also are glad Garcia was distracted by that and didn’t ask you to elaborate on the AWOL matter.

Garcia whistles. “Wowzer.”

That made you smile. “A very simple, yet precise, way to put it.”

“A talent of hers for sure. But let’s get back to this crazy plan of yours,” insists Prentiss as she leans against the desk on the other side of Garcia.

“Again, it’s just the start of one but it could be a way to infiltrate Sicarius’ chosen ones without the need for vengeance to fuck things up.”

“You really say that word a lot,” notices Garcia.

“What?”

Garcia struggles by opening and closing her mouth like a fish to try and get the word out, but Prentiss beats her to it. “Fuck.”

“Huh?” You look at the section chief with confusion. “No thank you?”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant!” She answers, speaking quickly as you fluster her with the insinuation, and you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer.

“What’s so funny?” she snaps.

“You!” you answer between cackles. “I knew what you meant.”

Garcia at least has the decency to look away while trying to fight off her own snickers as Prentiss takes a hand to her head to rub at her temples. “I swear to god, Whitlock …”

“Anyway …” you grin. “The idea is to chat him up with a username that is not entirely inactive but hasn’t been used in a bit. Think we found a prospect.”

Prentiss’ irritation with you changes to interest. “That so?”

Garcia nods. “Now that I know what the plan is, yes. I can do a deeper dive into this user and see what I can dig up.”

“Less is more, in this case,” you explain thoughtfully. “If we infiltrate this way, we gotta have enough info to be this user without him really knowing who this is. So, if you can find who they are, then we’re back to finding another. Because that means he would know their identity, too.”

Prentiss nods. “Do it. Green isn’t cooperating at all like Tara figured. He wouldn’t agree to the cognitive interview. Might as well see how this pans out while JJ tries to change Green’s mind.”

“On it, Boss Ma’am!” Garcia jests as she gets to work.

Prentiss looks up at the ceiling as if searching for patience, but as brown eyes come down, they focus on you. “Come with me and bring your stuff.”

“Sure thing.” You rise, grabbing your backpack but before you follow Prentiss, you squeeze Garcia’s shoulder. “This was nice. Working with you, that is.”

She tears her eyes away from the screen to look up at your soulful eyes. You really appreciated how Garcia jumped into working with you with fervor and not giving you the cold shoulder from earlier this week. “Aww, sweetie! Yes, we’ll keep working at it to make this idea blossom into a full blown plan!”

You smile so hard your cheeks hurt and stay that way until Garcia gets back to work. You then meet up with Prentiss to walk out together.

“Good first day.” It was an observation by the section chief.

“Yeah, it really was.” You were smiling again. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Her tone carries a mystique to it, and you become captivated while walking to the bullpen together. “But I owe you a proper thank you. Langley sent me the confirmation of funds.”

“I’ll behave.” Prentiss’ eyes widen when you say that. “I won’t start making it rain money at you in celebration.”

She chuckles. “So, you can control it?”

“Occasionally.”

“Good. Then I’ve no regrets in getting you something.”

That made you perk up. “You got me something?”

“Bit overdue, but …” Prentiss stops without warning at the first desk to the right when you enter the bullpen. “… it’s yours.”

You are befuddled as you shift your gaze from Prentiss to the desk and audibly gasp. Resting on top of it was your name on display as a consultant. “Wow.”

Pleased with your reaction, she nudges you with her elbow. “This is when you’re supposed to thank me.”

“Ah, right!” you laugh, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck before looking to her with a radiant smile. “Thank you, Prentiss.”

Your response without jest disarms her like it did last night over drinks. Your gazes lock for several beats and you just stand there with sincere gratitude that she welcomed you as a member of the team.

She recovers quickly with a stiff nod and motions to your desk. “You’re welcome. When you’re done getting settled, get back to working on that angle with Garcia.”

“You got it.” You immediately round the desk, already slipping off your backpack to place on top of it as Prentiss heads to her office.

That felt really nice to say in your head. Your desk. When was the last time you had a desk with a name plate? Everything you did was covert up until now so flashing your name and credentials was the equivalent to placing a target on your back with a bright flashing sign that says, ‘Shoot me!’. The right people knew your name when on mission, but most of your identity was done under aliases and callsigns.

You take a quick inventory of what’s on the desk – laptop connected to dual monitors, keyboard and mouse, stacked plastic organizers, phone, stapler, black plastic pen holder that was empty.

Guess I’ll have to find supplies…

You pick up the stapler and click it, watching a used staple hit the desk. At least that was ready to go for all the paperwork you’ll be doing now. The team will be excited to hear that! You then pull out the chair to get acquainted with the drawers only to be shocked for the second time today.

Waiting for you on the chair was a six pack of Diet Coke bottles with a blue sticky note attached. You peel it off to read and immediately smile.

Welcome to the BAU, Whitlock.

EP

Chapter 7

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven

[nightlyrequiem]

A request of with Valeria and fem reader inspired by the song let me love you by Mario. Where basically Valeria is interested in the reader but reader is in a shitty relationship and Valeria basically convinces them to leave their partner for her and then treats the reader miles better and like they're royalty

I think I really cooked here. I got to write a little bit of angst and some wholesomeness

Listened to this song and I think I have to add it to my playlist. I'm certainly always going to associate it with Valeria forever now

I'm not going to lie, I put off writing this because I wasn't sure how to even start it but once I did start it came so easily. Fun request to write. I had a good time writing it and I hope you have a good time reading it.

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Romance, Mentions of Cheating

Let Me Love You

Valeria has had her eyes on you for a while. Pretty much since she first met you, she's been pining. A dog at your feet, tail thumping against the ground. Softness isn't in her nature. Valeria is vicious, and mean, and violent, but never with you. An intricate, priceless glass sculpture. Made to be handled with the upmost care. Shined and dusted every day. Instead, you're pushed aside on a crowded shelf and left to deteriorate. Accidently dropped and cracked but never repaired. Pieces of you broken off and haphazardly swept into a trash bag.

You're sobbing in her arms. So hard that you're gasping for breath, shoulders tense and jerking with each wretched cry. He cheated on you again. She pushes your face into the crook of her neck. Hoping her scent makes you forget the smell of the cheap perfume you smelled on his shirt. 

"It's like you enjoy being hurt." Valeria whispers into your hair. Hand trailing between your shoulder blades. "I don't understand why you stay." When I'm right here.

"We've been together for years." You reply shakily. Voice cracking devastatingly. Valeria gently lowers herself onto the bed. You held in her lap. Valeria has her arms around you like a cocoon. Keeping you safe while you metamorphize. A delicate little moth.

It frustrates Valeria to no end. If you were her girl, you'd never know this kind of pain. You'd never be conditioned into feeling anxious when she's late to coming home. Your glow would never be dampened with her.

"Stop doing this to yourself." She says. Pressing a kiss to your temple. "Stop going back to that little boy, he doesn't deserve you." Not like I do.

"I can't." You weep. She can feel your brows furrowing against her neck, the quiver of your lips. Your warm breath hitting her skin in puffs. "I can't do it, Val."

"You can." She insists firmly. "... Leave him. You are a star in the vast night sky, corazón. He's nothing but light pollution hiding your beauty." Valeria pulls you tighter against her, heart pounding with finality. "Please, just be with me instead." Valeria Garza doesn't beg but she'd take a knee for you.

You go still and Valeria suddenly fears that she said the wrong thing. Pushed too far. She pulls back and gently takes ahold of your face, wiping away the crystal tears running streams over your warm cheeks. Glossy eyes brimming with misery stare back at her.

"Let me love you." She says softly. "I'll treat you so much better than him." 

She can see her longing reflected in your tears. She watches your throat move as you swallow. Valeria leans closer, brushing her nose against yours. Your lips brush and when you don't pull away, she presses her lips to yours. Drinking in your taste with reverence. Your fingers grip her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Your salty tears breaching the seams of your lips.

She kisses you like she'll never get the chance to again. Sand slipping through her fingers. You pull away and let out a shuddering breath.

"It hurts so much." You say, pained. Pressing your face into her shoulder. "Make it stop. Please, Valeria, make it stop. Make me feel better. Make me better."

Valeria grasps your chin to make you look at her. "You're not going back to him." She says resolutely. Valeria's hands drift down to your shoulders. "Stay with me."

"I'm scared."

"Stay with me."

"Okay." You close your eyes. "I'll stay."

You stay the night. Layers of clothing peeled from your bodies. Laying skin to skin under the covers with your hands locked together. You fell asleep hours ago but Valeria fights the tiredness dragging at her eyelids. She's savoring this moment with you. She watches your eyelids flutter as you dream. Is it her face or his that you're seeing? All you've known is hurt but Valeria will change that.

"Shit!" You curse. Face scrunched in despair.  "I burnt them!" The cookies you were making together are hard and stuck to the pan. Blackened with heat. Valeria snorts.

"I told you not to leave them in there for that long."

"I wanted to make sure the dough was fully cooked." You reply defensively. Taking off your oven mitts and setting them down on the marble counter. "Salmonella is no joke, Valeria."

"No, but those cookies might be."

You swat at her, and she catches your hand, bringing it to her lips and pressing a chaste kiss to it. It's been months since you last sobbed in her arms, pleading for her to make it better. You haven't cried since. Valeria's gone above and beyond for you. Giving all of herself to you.

There have been some downs, naturally. So used to being on the defense and being suspicious, you'd get set off if she forgot to tell you she'd be late coming home. Valeria held you with endless reassurances. Never forgetting to tell you again. You've become so sure of yourself now. Evidence of you all over her home. Projects, clothes, art, interests. You are heard, you are seen, and you take up space. The cocoon cracked open, and you crawled out with your velvety wings quivering. Breathing in your new beginning.  

[shadyvoxtruth]

How ShadyVox Threatened Myself & Others For Years

My name is Martin Billany but I am also known as LittleKuriboh in the YouTube sphere/Yu-Gi-Oh fandom.

I am posting this here for posterity in case all of my other posts elsewhere about it are removed. Also because there has never been a single unified place to find all of this information presented in sequence.

Patrick, also known by his pseudonyms of ShadyVox or Scratch21's Matt Robinson or Blake Swift, spent the better part of 2019-2023 both threatening me and manipulating a group of real victims.

A brief history - for those who don't know, Patrick/ShadyVox and myself were heavily involved in the "abridged series" world in the late 2000s/mid 2010s. I myself started the whole abridged parody nonsense with Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged, and Patrick would follow suit by doing a Yu-Gi-Oh GX Abridged. We met through content creation and formed a friendship through it. Not best friends or anything, but friendly enough.

Patrick would later leave the abridged series stuff behind and start over making music, working in original animation for popular internet channels, etc. Stuff he was genuinely very good at. It was a strong choice to move away from parody content, as it likely would have held him back at some point.

At a certain point in 2018, I received a communication from him that requested I remove certain YouTube comments on my videos that featured him. These comments were demanding to know why Patrick was following various right wing channels and were calling him alt-right, etc.

I agreed to remove the comments because I considered him a friend and automatically assumed there was some big misunderstanding. As it turned out, he was subscribed to a few channels that caused me to confront him.

I was emotional and upset, admittedly. Things politically were at a fever pitch and I had been swept up by it. I have included screencaps of our conversation.

Later I would apologize to him for my outburst and try to make amends. You're probably wondering why I would include this since it doesn't seem to involve Patrick threatening me, and it seems if anything to suggest I got upset at him.

That is because I truly believe this is the moment Patrick decided he was going to find some way to come after me. I believe that Patrick had spent a lot of time creating a mask for himself, and had worn it very well, and the moment someone saw through it for even a moment he decided I had to be dealt with somehow.

At this point - mid 2018 - Patrick and I were not close. We hadn't worked on anything together in half a decade. We really only kept in touch in a cursory fashion. So I imagine this interaction stuck in Patrick's craw something awful.

I was, however, closer with the person Patrick had worked in conjunction with on his abridged series, X. These days X is my best friend. Back then, I don't know how close we were. But definitely closer than either of us were with Patrick.

One day in 2019, entirely out of the blue, Patrick messages me privately to inform me that X once slept with a girl who was 17 when he was in his early 20s.

My own spouse was sexually assaulted before I met them, and as a result I have a no tolerance policy on anything that even could resemble assault. So I immediately ended my friendship with X.

And as I was doing so, Patrick told me repeatedly that I was overreacting.

As you can see, by Patrick/Shady's own words, this was a long time ago. Just under a decade or so, by my count.

And most importantly, Patrick had been aware of this for the whole decade or so and chose this very moment to tell me that this happened.

I want you to keep that in mind, especially the fact that when I said I was ending my friendship with X, Patrick's actual response was "it was a long time ago, he's gotten better."

It was painful to end my friendship with X, but I did. I told him that if he could provide satisfactory proof that what Patrick had said didn't represent the facts of the situation, I could be his friend again. Until then, I cut off all communication from X.

A week or so later I received specific evidence that pointed to a situation wherein Patrick was intentionally misrepresenting what happened, or the alleged victim's story. The alleged victim VERY specifically disagreed with Patrick.

You'll note that I'm not including screen caps of these conversations - that is because the alleged victim, and other involved parties, DO NOT WANT to be part of any of this and have needed actual therapy because of Patrick's behavior in the past. Not just here.

Anyway.

I returned to Patrick/Shady and told him there had been a misunderstanding. I wanted to clear the air and give him a chance to say something along the lines of "oh okay, obviously I had my facts wrong." I mean, as you yourself have just read - he said himself that this was a long time ago. Maybe he got some wires crossed.

This is how Patrick actually responded:

The screenshots were taken on different dates, hence why his twitter icon looks different suddenly.

But yes. His response to me explaining that the alleged victim disagreed with his stance, was to insist that the alleged victim must be lying and that I should be absolutely infuriated.

After he'd tried to tell me that there was no point in being upset about this information that he had sat on for the better part of a decade.

Patrick continued to scream at me via dm, repeatedly requesting that I give him my phone number so we could talk about this. I assume this is because he didn't want any kind of text evidence of what he was going to say to me, or what he was doing.

He would later, mid-conversation, tell me that he was deleting all of his dms to me. Not sure why. It doesn't remove them from my side of the conversation, so I still have access to all of them. I have not shared the entire private message thread yet, because it's sensitive and involves people beyond just myself. But if the dms ever do need to be made public entirely, I have them.

I ended up blocking Patrick during this very conversation because he had begun screaming at me, behaving extremely unhinged and in a frightening manner. I honestly think he had hoped that I would initially try to defend my friend from his accusation, in which case he was going to fly off the handle then. But because I had genuinely believed him and removed my friend from my life, only to then learn Patrick's story didn't hold water, he had no choice but to lash out now. When it didn't make any sense to suddenly be irate about a thing he had told me about, and had literally just said "it was a long time ago."

Within 24 hours, Patrick had sent me a threatening email saying he was going to expose me for everything I was doing. I have attached the highlights of the email, parts that don't involve other people's names.

Some of the references in this email - specifically about how I've associated with others and ignored people calling me out for it - are related to a podcast I was on, alongside Patrick. Until recently I had indeed tried to move on with my life after a number of the people involved had revealed themselves to be toxic. I had made efforts to separate myself from those people. It had been years since I'd really had any direct connection to any of them.

I do indeed regret not speaking out about it sooner.

Having said this, Patrick himself was equally as guilty for not speaking out - and had in fact spent a significantly larger amount of time talking to/working with the people in question.

As such, I believe a lot of this is some form of bizarre projection on his part.

I ignored the email because I was a) worried that he had suddenly snapped, and b) I didn't think any of the content warranted a response.

A day later, I received this email from Patrick where his tone has changed entirely:

As you can see, this is more in line with the reality of the situation. He is apologizing profusely and insisting I didn't actually do anything wrong, and that he was the one in the wrong.

You'll also note that he signs this particular email "Patrick." That is because it is his real name, and I believe he was possibly appealing to my humanity and the part of me that might still have seen a friendship worth salvaging. Otherwise I could not tell you why he signed his real name - he typically hates using it.

I still did not reply because at this point I was confused and scared and wanted him to leave me alone. And to that point, he had specifically stated at the end of his email that he was the problem and he would not "involve himself in my life any longer."

The police were contacted and they told him to stop. I had hoped that my part in all of this was over.

Later that very month, Patrick announced on his ShadyVox twitter account that a new GX Abridged was coming out for April Fools.

When it is posted on April 1st - less than a month after he had sent his email saying he would remove himself from my life, and not long after the police have visited him - the video contains many references to our conversations, and specifically the fact that the police got involved.

Yes, after being told by the police to stop - and after writing an email that insisted he knew he was the real problem and would be getting help - he decides to make a mockery of the situation publicly, in a manner that nobody else will understand. Except the people it is targeting.

The tweets about this video are the only thing remaining on Patrick's twitter account, as he had purged it some time ago.

(An aside - I do recall someone attempting to call Patrick out for being toxic previously on twitter, and his response was to spam them with the words "PROVE IT. PROVE IT. PROVE IT." until they gave up. I would include screenshots of this, but like I said - he purged his entire twitter except for this specific GX Abridged video he'd thrown together in a week to respond to the fact that the authorities had intervened to get him to stop)

One other important element of this video - which is where, I believe, this whole thing veers into genuinely disturbing territory - is that it is interspersed with garbled footage intended to look like some sort of creepypasta/vhs effect. At the end of the GX Abridged video, it is clear that Patrick is using this video to allude to some upcoming song tracks he is producing.

Songs that are tailored to threaten me in cryptic, indirect ways that very few people pick up on.

But I'll get to those later.

During 2019, Patrick reaches out to actual victims of the toxic individuals from the podcast I used to be on more than half a decade before any of the stuff chronologized in this post. He tells them lies, and demonizes me to the point that it convinces them that I am still both defending/supporting the toxic individuals, and actively mocking their victims in private.

I am aware of this because Patrick tweets about it - before deleting the tweets entirely. He even attempts to throw popular abridging group TeamFourStar under the bus, which I assume was merely out of spite because they had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.

I wish I had screengrabbed the tweets when they were still up, but there is still remaining evidence that they did exist.

Here is someone posting on Reddit about it - he only references one tweet, but this was around the time Patrick was posting and then immediately deleting what he'd said. I honestly can only assume - but I think he was fishing for people to latch on to what he was saying and contact him privately.

Not to mention the fact that the police had specifically told him to stop, so that was likely in the back of his mind also.

Here is someone replying to a since suspended twitter account that was discussing what Patrick was saying about TeamFourStar. Obviously I have no clear way to prove it, but please know that I have no reason to make that much up and point to a random ass tweet.

I imagine Patrick (not the suspended person in the above screencap) realized the best way to not seem directly to blame or involved at all was to remove any and all posts he'd made. Admittedly it would have worked if I didn't have the dms and these emails.

Speaking of emails, I received a third one in late 2019 - as you can see, Patrick's promise of leaving me alone forever didn't even last a year.

You'll note that he's speaking as though the second email never even happened. He's also just plain lying through his teeth for a significant part of it, but I think it's most important to note that this email requires you to assume the second email never got written.

He has gone from pages and pages of "of course it wasn't your fault, I'm the problem, you're good, I'm bad" to "I told you..."

Also, I think the words "You tried to damage me" should be highlighted here as it reinforces my theory that all of this was about me insulting him for all the right wing channels he'd subscribed to. Which, to me, was barely even a thought in my mind at this point.

So I choose to ignore this email also. Because y'know, why would I even humor responding to the guy at this point? I decide that I will only speak on any of this if it becomes public conversation. Until then, anything that happens would be because of Patrick's actions.

I do let my friends know about all of this - including TeamFourStar, who through this entire thing have been blameless and didn't even do anything to Patrick to begin with. And every time Patrick does something, I make sure people in my circle are aware and to be cautious.

Meanwhile Patrick alludes to all of this indirectly in the songs he posts to his YouTube channel. Yes, a situation that involves actual victims and one alleged victim that Patrick hadn't spoken to in years. He chose to make reference to all of this in videos where he raps, amongst other things.

There are a number of songs that feature references to this, it's mainly these two that I want to focus on

Birdy Boy is a song that is explicitly referencing Patrick's issues with me, without actually going into any details about what the issue is.

It is so clearly about me that people pick up on it - and rather than confront the issue or have a dialogue, Patrick decides to pin the comment about it to the top of the comments page.

Of course, if Patrick made any attempt to directly describe the issue or explain himself, it would likely result in the police becoming involved once again.

So he sticks to singing about the whole thing.

This next song is the most upsetting one.

Patrick/Shady writes a song called "Joker" about a psychotic individual murdering someone who "used to be funny." This is, specifically, the song that he teases at the end of the GX Abridged Episode 21 video he posted earlier in 2019 for april fools.

He has teased it multiple times on his twitter, and elsewhere, with the words "Coming Soon." The very same words he used to title his third threatening email.

Here is the email, placed next to some lyrics from the song Joker.

He is seemingly very specifically trying to threaten me without anyone noticing, in plain sight. I was unable to watch the video in full until after all of this stuff came out into the public. It was only through reading people's responses and the lyrics that I realized what he was doing.

Again, at this point I am doing and saying nothing publicly. Just watching this behavior and waiting.

Meanwhile in 2021, a videogame based on the web series TOME gets fully funded and Christopher Niosi - the creator of TOME - reaches out to the voice cast to see if they'll return. I myself was the voice of Nylocke, one of the main characters, and Patrick was the voice of THE main character.

As such, I told Christopher no and explained my reasons.

And here is Christopher's response.

Please pay careful attention to the fact that Christopher Niosi flat out says he already knew Patrick was doing this stuff - it isn't just me imagining it.

As a result of this interaction, I do not reprise my role as Nylocke and Christopher Niosi chooses to just recast every single character. Please note that he could have just recast Patrick, but did not. As a result, I feel responsible for all of the original cast losing out on work. It hurts to think about. But at least I feel like I did the right thing.

One member of the TOME production staff takes it upon themselves to reach out to Patrick personally. They discover that he is planning to write more songs/raps that target me. They ask him nicely to stop. He insists that he has to do this. Y'know, make vague allusions to extremely sensitive topics that he lied about in the form of song. Has to do it.

The member of production staff tells Patrick he should seek professional help.

Patrick ignores them.

Patrick continues to engage in behavior that, while not openly hostile or even specifically targeting anyone, is very clearly intended as mockery at best and a threat at worst until 2023 when all of this comes to a head.

In August of 2023, the real victims that Patrick has manipulated make a callout post aimed at myself and TeamFourStar. It specifically cites Patrick's testimony and the songs he has posted. They have been misled, but their anger is understandable.

Within a week, it becomes apparent to all sides that this is Patrick's fault. The person who posted the callout takes it down and apologizes to everyone. Not just me. They apologize to TeamFourStar, and to X.

And only then do I speak publicly about what Patrick has been doing.

I share all of the screencaps I've posted here, and give context. It's all a little muddled as at the time, my cat was dying of terminal cancer and so all of my posts are somewhat scatterbrained and aren't in chronological order. But it's still remarkably clear to everyone that Patrick has manipulated this whole thing, starting in 2019.

And that's only the stuff I feel comfortable sharing.

Since the callout post first dropped in 2023 and I began pointing people's attention toward Patrick, Patrick himself has been entirely silent. He has dropped off the internet with nary a word in defense. Not a single person directly associated with what happened has attempted to dispute my description of events.

This isn't my word versus his. It is my word versus silence.

I have it on good authority that Patrick is alive and well. I am grateful for that much. My attempts have not been to hurt him, but to defend myself. My efforts have not been to hunt him down and crucify him, but to make people aware of what transpired - and what could have easily been undone by Patrick/Shady just choosing to stop.

Instead a number of victims, and people who never did a thing, experienced a considerable amount of trauma as a result of his thoughtless and spiteful actions.

Patrick is a remarkably talented individual, and it makes me sad I have to be the one to show people who he is. I genuinely think all of this could have been avoided. It's so meaningless. It's just pain on top of pain.

And Patrick stood in the center of it all, not just pulling people's strings but practically uprooting them and then acting like he didn't do a thing.

I'm not expecting an apology, and I'm not asking for his cancelation, whatever shape that would take. But I do think it's important that people know this happened, that he chose this.

He did this for almost no reason to a person he considered a friend, who worked on videos with him.

It just seems like the responsible thing, to make sure people are somewhat aware that he could do this to them if they aren't cautious and careful and super aware.

I'm sorry to anyone disappointed and hurt by all of this information.

Believe me, I understand.

[angelstate]

(Don't) Say You're Sorry, Please.

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem! reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending!

Warnings: harsh argument, cursing, mention of alcohol and reader getting drunk, explicit emotions, symptoms of mental illness.

Summary: you and peter were no longer happy, it took a big fight, harsh words and some time apart to realize how much love you felt for one another.

Words: 3k!

you didn't know how it got to this point, when the calmness of a silly discussion turned into a heated argument and a silent competition of who could scream harder horrible things to the other.

It got to the point where you had been crying for so long it was hard to breath and your eyes sting every time you blinked, it felt as if your stuck in the middle of a panic attack and couldn't get out of it no matter what you tried to do.

You didn't even remember when everything went wrong and you ended up here, it was like all your memories had been swept away and now there was a recognizable emptiness that the both of you shared.

you knew everything but could remember nothing.

you didn't had what it took to fight like this with Peter. You didn't have the voice, the feelings or the calculated thoughts to defend yourself.

You threw weak attempts of calming the situation but nothing worked so you let the venom that was boiling in your chest spill over and make you say things you would regret.

The love was long forgotten.

"just shut the fuck up, peter! for once in your fucking life shut the fuck up. You aren't the voice of truth all the fucking time, sometimes you are in the wrong, get over it for fucks sake!" You screamed at him and pulled your hair in an attempt to let out some of the anger you felt.

"i should shut up?! You're the one who acts like a fucking bitch all the goddamn time. You are fucking insufferable, i swear to god sometimes i can't fucking understand why i even put up with your shit!" peter screamed back at you, he was pointing at you the entire time. blaming you for this.

"you put up with my shit?! I'm the one who has a fucking super hero for a boyfriend. If anyone is putting up with shit is fucking me!! You always get hurt and put yourself in danger. you run to saves stranger from small fucking crimes, but who takes care of me?! You love playing hero but always end up getting hurt, What is going to take for you to realize that you are not prepared to save anyone!!" You screamed as loud as you could everything that came to your mind.

You were so done with this shit, with the argument, with the super hero bullshit. It was draining, being there to help peter get healthy every time he got hurt stopped being out of love but obligation.

While he took care of the city you were left to take care of him, but who was making the time to take care of you? Nobody. Nobody was taking care of you.

"i'm not prepared?! I have saved the world more than once! I've gone through hell trying to keep everyone save!! Im more than capable of saving people from small shitty crimes!" peter said trough gritted teeth.

"then why, tell why the fuck you can never help me?! Why you can never save me?! Am i not worth your stupid help!!?" you felt tears starting to leave your eyes harder than ever.

You knew that there was no way you could ever recover from this fight and be like you were before; this was a breaking point that was long time coming in the relationship.

"i don't help you?! every second that I'm not being spiderman im by your side fucking teaching you to not fuck up like you always do!" Peter screamed and raised his hand, closed his fist before letting his arm fall back down.

"you are so full of shit" this time you didn't shouted, your voice was trembling and soft, your throat wasn't prepared for any more screaming.

"you are so full of shit, Parker. we are never together, if you're not being spiderman you're busy doing shit to get better at being a super hero. You are never here for me. Im sorry that when i see you after a long time i want to tell you how my life has been. Im so fucking sorry i want you to be here for me." Your eyes filled with tears again your vision was blurry because of it but you didn't let any more tears fall. This wasn't worth the pain.

"im full of shit for being a super hero? Im so sorry if I'm not here because im saving people's life. I have so much shit going on that the last thing i wanna hear is more problems you want me to fix. I am so fucking sorry i can't fix your fucking life, you won't believe how much bigger problems i have to deal with outside of this fucking room" peter spoke his voice was stern.

In that moment, you realized something. You weren't his first priority. You weren't even on the list of things he worried about.

Why were you still here with him? Why haven't you walked away from a place you clearly weren't wanted in?

You loved peter so much to the point you forgot that he should love you too to be together.

"i think we need a break from each other" you whispered and rubbed your eyes to get rid of the tears.

Silence.

Peter didn't said nothing, just stood in the middle of your room looking completely lost. his eyes for the first time tonight filled with tears and his lower lip quivered in what you could only describe as pure sorrow.

"you don't mean that" peter said and tried to get close to you but you took a step back and embraced yourself.

"it's for the best, peter." you reassured him. it was really for the best. This time it had gotten too far to not notice the two of you needed space.

"no no no, I'm sorry, ok? Im really sorry. Please don't break up with me" peter pleaded.

"don't say you're sorry, please. we just need some time alone." you hugged peter one last time.

"we'll fix this, right?" Peter whispered in your ear and tighten his hold on you. It was so hard to let go.

you couldn't respond, no didn't knew if this could be fixed.

peter just took in your silence and kissed you for the last time, just way to promise to not let the relationship die tonight.

___________

Three weeks had passed since the fight.

thinking back to that night felt like a dream, you could feel the guilt of everything you said weight heavier and heavier every day.

You regretted everything you said, every word you let out that night. you may have ruined one of the only good things in your life out of pure selfishness.

peter and you rarely talked, there was nothing to say, no. There was too much to say and that scared the both of you. what if one you had realized the relationship was going to be fixable?

The fear was ingrained in the both of your minds, both of you suffering because of the same fear.

"how is she?" Peter asked mj, who was concentrated eating her lunch.

"your ex girlfriend?" Mj said sarcastically and looked at peter with boredom.

"we didn't broke up" peter said quickly, the title of ex girlfriend made his heart clench in pain.

"she's sad and doesn't look good at all, Parker" she said honestly and looked at her food before continuing.

"if your dumbass checked on her you would know that" she said and took a bite of a mini carrot.

"we are taking some time apart" peter defend himself, it was true but that wasn't the reason he checked up on you. He was scared of seeing what the decision made to you.

He had shattered since that night, crying anytime he was left alone with his thoughts. He feared to see you in a worst condition than he was. Scared to see how his words bruised you.

"yeah? maybe try spend a life time apart because you don't want to see how you left her, Parker." Mj said in bitterness, you were her best friend and seeing you in pain because of him didn't sat right with her. She understood the situation but would always make the people that hurt you hurt too.

Peter just sat there, looking worried and sad.

You were feeling like shit, every inch of your mind was filled with sadness and your body reflected your state of mind so clearly it was embarrassing to go out looking like the human version of sadness.

right now, you were in one of the stalls of the girls bathroom, trying to eat your lunch but you had no appetite, you stopped feeling hungry two weeks ago.

You couldn't eat, so you took supplements like candy, trying to keep your body healthy but it didn't worked. You lost weight and looked pale.

But it didn't really mattered, nothing felt like it mattered. In your mind, you had no reason whatsoever to care about yourself or anything at all.

_____________

It was Friday night and you were drunk as fuck. not in a party, just in the solitude of your living room, lit cigarette in hand and a tall glass filled all the way with pure vodka.

the tv was on, the movie 'The perks of being a Wallflower' playing but the sound acting as a background noise because all your attention was on your phone, waiting for a message from him to pop up.

How much you wished you had the courage to message him first.

You took a big sip from the glass and felt the familiar warm spread in your chest, your empty stomach had been suffering all day and now was experiment the harshest treatment you had ever put it through.

Not even in your high school years you were careless enough to not eat anything before drinking strong alcohol.

"say you're sorry, please?" you whispered to yourself, trying to force yourself to call him, to admit your mistakes and beg for forgiveness.

You spend two hours staring at your phone, all the vodka in you glass had already disappeared and the entire bottle followed soon after; before you even realize it

"I'll say I'm sorry, please forgive me..." you whispered and pressed to call peter. you put the call on speaker and held your phone close to your mouth.

You had your knees to your chest and had wrapped a blanket around yourself, trying to stay calm and collected.

"hello?" Peter answered the call.

"hi...pete" you said, voice dripping evidence of your drunken state.

"how are you, y/n?" he asked and you heard how he sat on his bed from the way the springs made a uncomfortable sound.

"i'm.. I'm drunk" you admitted and laughed a little.

"I, I really wanted to talk to you, pete." you're voice broke, and your eyes glossed over with tears.

"I wanted to talk to you too, flower" the pet name made your heart clench.

"really?" you asked, your tone filled with the warm that the pet name created in your soul.

"yeah, i was thinking about you, i used my telepathic powers and you called" he joked and you giggled.

"thanks for using your powers, pete" you took a deep breath.

"i called because i want to tell you something" you said and heard how peter took a deep breath.

"tell me, flower. Im all ears" he spoke sweetly, so sweetly you felt your heart clench again.

"i just, i wanted to tell you that i'm sorry, i'm really sorry about everything i said when we were fighting." you took a pause and to stop the tears from falling.

"i don't 'up with you', i honestly don't even know why i said that. you are amazing to be around and i was wrong for saying differently. you're a great super hero and the fact that you put yourself in danger and get hurt just to save other people is admirable. You're more than prepared to be the biggest super hero the world has known" you let out a shaky breath, your eyes betrayed you and multiple tears fell from your eyes.

"and you're right, you do help me to not do stupid things. I just...i just feel like i'm not worth it enough of more attention than the one you give me to save me from my stupidity."

"and lastly, you're not full of shit. That's me, not you. I know you have bigger problems than giving me attention just because i feel like im entitled to your time. I feel really guilty for everything i said. Forgive me, please?" You finished speaking.

Peter was speechless, and his heart already broken heart, ended breaking completely when you bed for his forgiveness.

You beg him for forgiveness? how could you feel sorry for saying the things he needed to hear to wake up and realize he wasn't a good boyfriend? You opened his eyes when you spoke up about how abandoned you felt because of him never being there for you.

If anyone should apologize was him.

"flower..." Peter sighed.

"yes?" You responded, voice shaky and anxious.

"I'm sorry for everything i said too. I shouldn't have called you a bitch. You're not insufferable, your the sweetest and loveliest person i have ever met. i'm grateful that i have you in my life."

"and you're right about me never being there to give you anything other than help, i love you and i thought that just because you knew that i didn't have to remind you every day. you have all the right to tell me how you feel or what you're going through and i should always be there to hear you. I know that you don't want me to fix your life or your problems. You only wanted to be heard but i didn't care to listen at the time."

"thanks for believing I'm a great super hero and I'm sorry that I've been saving people without thinking about how me getting hurt so much and running to you to heal me affected you. I've been selfish in our relationship just because i wanted to be selfless and save people. Forgive me, please"

Peter asked and you took a deep breath.

"if i forgive you will you forgive me too?" you asked back, you also wanted to be forgiven.

"of course, flower" peter answered and your heart skipped a beat.

"then, i forgive you, pete." you said and felt a smile forming on your face.

"i forgive you too, flower." Peter smiled too.

All the weight you have been carrying on your shoulders was lifted just like the light on your soul, you could finally live again. No more sorrow and pain.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" You asked with hope.

"yeah, we'll see each other tomorrow" peter made the plan of showing up at your apartment tomorrow, make everything right and give you all the affection and time you deserved.

______________

(a few months later)

you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, wrapped up in blankets and softly breathing. It was spring break and you have spent all day cleaning so you were having your well deserved rest.

that was until you starting hearing something hitting your window, being a light sleeper you woke up almost immediately, you checked the time on you phone '01:23am'

Still being half asleep you didn't even thought about what who hitting against your window because it was obvious, you stood up, walked over to the window, opened it and turned around to lie down again in your bed.

"hi baby" you said when you were back in your bed, this time your back against the wall to give peter space to lay down with you.

"hi flower" peter pressed the spider in the middle of his suit making loose and fall of his body.

He picked up the hoodie that was on your desk and put it on before laying down beside you, almost instantly he hugged you and you wrapped one of your legs around his waist to bring him closer to you while one of your arms wrapped around his next. Your free hand started caressing his hair sofly.

"how was night patrol?" you asked, your eyelids already closing in tiredness.

"it was calm, i just helped a few drunk guys get home" peter said and rubbing your back, drawing random shapes with his fingers.

"that's good" you whispered.

"go to sleep, flower." peter whispered against your ear and tighten his hold on your waist making you be totally pressed against him, your face in the crook of his neck.

"goodnight spidey" was the last thing you said before falling asleep.

"goodnight flower, i love you" peter kissed the top of your head before falling asleep too.

The both of you finally being the happy couple you deserved to be. The love you felt for each other was no longer forgotten in the pain of misunderstood emotions, now it was more alive than ever, burning and keeping you warm and safe from all the sorrow you had to go through to be happy with peter again.

Everything was fixed and was better than the first time you started to love each other.

There was no longer pain, just peace and the comfortable bed of love the both of you slept in for the rest of your life.

How beautiful it was to love Peter, forever save in his arms.

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 21 - What We Might Have Been

Summary: As tensions within the camp simmer and new challenges surface, the gang finds themselves slipping further into uncertainty. Amid the chaos, Kate and Arthur navigate the weight of their individual struggles, leaning on their bond to weather the storm and hold onto what matters most.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

AN: Big chapter folks. Nearly 12k words. There's a lot of dialogue in this one, and I sorta got carried away. But there are some characters who needed to speak and who am I to stop them!

TW: Some angst. Brief mention of DV. Micah being a POS.

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw  @yallgotkik

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Caretaking, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

The sharp cry of an egret pierced the humid morning air, reluctantly pulling Kate from the depths of her slumber. Her mind was still tangled in the remnants of a dream, the line between reality and memory blurred. For a moment, she believed she was back in that blissful night with Arthur, so vivid and warm it felt as though it had just happened. But it hadn’t—it had been a fortnight, though her heart refused to let it drift too far away.

The details of that evening swept over her like a soft breeze: the lush, downy quilt cradling her as she sank into feather-stuffed pillows; the steaming bath that easily fit two, its lavender-scented vapor curling like whispers into the room. She could still see the wallpaper, a delicate pattern of tiny pink roses, cocooning them in a world of their own, safe and unbothered. It had been a sanctuary, a rare moment of peace in a life otherwise fueled by chaos.

But that sanctuary was far away now, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim, decrepit room around her, the reality of Shady Belle settled in. The tattered walls, the scent of mildew, and the low hum of crickets reminded her where she truly was. She groaned and pulled the threadbare blanket over her face, wishing she could disappear back into the comfort of her dream.

Through the worn, holey fabric of the blanket, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Arthur’s shadow flitted across the room as he moved silently, stepping in from the balcony where the faint smell of cigarette smoke still lingered. His presence filled the space, grounding her in a way that made her heart ache and settle all at once.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he murmured low and familiar, as rough as the calloused hands she knew so well. The cool press of his lips against her forehead was a contradiction to the sticky humidity in the air, and she found herself smiling despite everything.

Kate stretched and let out a long yawn. “Morning,” she mumbled, still thick with sleep. She blinked away the grogginess as she caught sight of Arthur fastening his gun belt, his movements slower than usual. 

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked, noticing the weariness etched into his face.

Arthur glanced over at her, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Yeah, I guess. Just got a lot on my mind,” he admitted.

Kate swung her legs over the side of the bed and started pulling on her boots. “Dutch got you running more jobs already?” she asked as she tried to gauge his mood.

He nodded, reaching for her belt and handing it to her from where it hung on the chair. “Wants me to go talk to some fella named Rains Fall,” he explained. “Apparently, he showed up at the mayor’s party. Dutch heard Cornwall’s name tossed around and thinks it’s worth diggin’ into.”

Kate paused, the memory of Rains Fall flashing in her mind. She remembered his calm yet commanding presence, the quiet dignity in his voice, and the deep sorrow in his eyes. It had been hard to forget. 

“Rains Fall,” she murmured, buckling her belt. “If he’s reaching out, it must be serious.”

Arthur shrugged, his expression guarded. “Serious enough for Dutch to get interested. But Cornwall’s in the mix, so you know how that goes.”

Kate’s stomach turned at the memory of Leviticus Cornwall. The man’s wealth and influence were dangerous, and whenever the gang crossed paths with him, it never ended well. She bit her lip, debating whether to bring up her other concern. 

“That reminds me,” she ventured, “did Dutch mention anything to you about the Trolley Association?”

Arthur gave her a sideways glance as he adjusted his holster. “Yeah, somethin’ about it. Says there’s two big scores down in Saint Denis—the Trolley company and the bank. Not sure which one we’re hittin’ first.”

Kate’s heart sank. She understood the gang needed money, but Dutch’s plans always came with too high a cost. She tightened her jaw, forcing herself to tread carefully. 

“Arthur, I don’t like this,” she said softly. Carrying a note of caution, as though testing his reaction. “Saint Denis ain't some little backwater town, we’re up against an empire here.” 

Arthur sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, his exhaustion evident. “I know, darlin’. I don’t like it much either, but we’re in a tough spot. Just a little more money, and we’ll be outta here. You and me, wherever you wanna go.”

Kate frowned. She’d heard this promise too many times before, a line borrowed straight from Dutch’s playbook. “I need to speak with Dutch about the Trolley,” she said firmly. The memory of Angelo Bronte’s cryptic words at the garden party still gnawed at her. It felt important—urgent even—and Dutch needed to hear it, no matter how he took it.

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “You’re not gonna change his mind, sweetheart,” he said gently, tone laced with reluctant understanding. “Just tell me what you wanna say, and I’ll pass it along.”

Kate hesitated. She could trust Arthur to relay the message, but that wasn’t the point. She needed Dutch to hear it directly from her, to look her in the eye and acknowledge her words. They brought her along to gather intel, and that’s exactly what she had done.

“I’ll tell you,” she said after a beat, “but I’m still going to try. If there’s even a chance he’ll listen, it’s worth it.”

Arthur studied her for a moment, his expression a mix of admiration and concern. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” he said with a faint smile. “Just… be careful, Kate. Dutch doesn’t like bein’ challenged.”

Kate met his gaze, “I’m not challenging him, Arthur. I’m trying to save him from himself.”

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The air on the second-floor balcony was thick with cigar smoke, curling lazily in the humid morning breeze and trailing up into the sky like ghostly tendrils. Dutch and Micah leaned on the rickety railing, their postures casual but their expressions sharp. From their vantage point, they had a commanding view of the camp below, the makeshift village bustling with life as gang members went about their business. Dutch stood like a monarch surveying his kingdom—or a dragon perched atop its hoard.

Kate hesitated in the doorway as Arthur held it open for her, his hand lingering briefly at her back as though offering silent encouragement. Her eyes flicked to Dutch, whose gaze was already on her, a faint smile playing at his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Micah, as usual, wore his smirk like armor, leaning slightly closer to Dutch as if staking his claim to the man’s favor.

“Arthur, Kate,” Dutch greeted smoothly, gesturing with the glowing end of his cigar. “What brings you two lovebirds up here so early? Come to enjoy the view?”

Kate stepped forward, resisting the urge to glance at Arthur. She could feel his silent presence behind her like a steady anchor. “I overheard something at the mayor’s party,” she began firmly. “Something I think you need to know.”

Dutch’s brows lifted, feigned curiosity masking the calculation in his eyes. “Oh? Do tell,” he drawled, taking another drag from his cigar.

Kate swallowed, steadying herself. “Angelo Bronte mentioned the Trolley Association,” she said, measuring her words. “He said it was a trap. He wasn’t speaking to me—he didn’t think I’d understand. But he said it in Italian, and I caught enough of it to know it’s bad news.”

Micah let out a low chuckle, his grin widening. “A trap, huh? And you just happened to understand the lingo, did you? Convenient.”

Kate shot him a sharp look. “My mother was Italian, Micah. I know enough to get by. Bronte wasn’t trying to hide it—he didn’t think anyone would care. He was talking to one of his men, warning him to stay clear of the deal.”

Dutch’s expression remained inscrutable as he took another puff of his cigar, exhaling slowly. “And what exactly did you hear, Kate? Let’s not be vague.”

Kate’s jaw tightened, but she pressed on. “He said the association was a setup, that there is no money. Anyone trying to hit it would be walking into an ambush. He mentioned the Pinkertons by name—said the whole thing was bait to draw out rodents like us.”

“Rodents,” Micah scoffed, leaning back against the railing. “Sounds like a scare tactic to me. Bronte’s just tryin’ to keep us from touchin’ his city’s treasures.”

Arthur, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, calm yet unyielding. “Micah, if it’s true, we’re walkin’ straight into a noose. Bronte’s got no reason to warn his own men unless there’s somethin’ to it.”

Dutch tapped the ash from his cigar, his gaze fixed on Kate. “You’re sure about this?”

Kate nodded, holding his gaze. “I’m sure. Bronte’s exact words were ‘They‘ll owe me a bounty.’ I don’t like the man, but who else could he be talking about? And I doubt he’s lying to his own people.”

Dutch was quiet for a long moment, the usual gleam in his eyes dimming just slightly as he weighed her words. “Well,” he said finally, “if it is a trap, that’s good to know. But sometimes, Kate, traps are where the most treasure lies.” He added with a wink.

Arthur sighed and Kate felt her heart sink. “Dutch, please. If we don’t take this seriously, we could lose everything.”

His smile returned, though it felt colder now. “You let me worry about the big picture, darlin’. That’s why I’m here.” He turned to Arthur, his voice shifting to the commanding tone Kate knew too well. “Arthur, you take care of Rains Fall. John and I’ll look into Bronte and the Trolly. Make sure we’re not missin’ an opportunity.”

Kate noted the way Micah shifted uncomfortably at the lack of mention of his involvement. His unease brought her a moment of vindication. Arthur gave a stiff nod, but Kate could see the tension in his jaw. He didn’t agree, not fully, but he wouldn’t challenge Dutch here.

Micah’s grin returned as he looked between them. “Looks like the boss has it handled. Ain’t that right?”

Kate clenched her fists, frustration bubbling beneath her calm exterior. “I’ve told you what I know. Do what you want with it, but if this goes south, don’t say you weren’t warned.”

Dutch turned his attention back to the bustling camp below, his voice cutting through the morning air with sharp finality. “You’re dismissed,” he barked, waving them off with a casual flick of his hand. The tone carried his usual arrogant authority, though Kate and Arthur were already making their way down the creaking stairs, the conversation clearly over in their eyes.

Dutch’s posture stiffened as he turned to Micah, his demeanor shifting from the polished charisma of a leader to the prickly defensiveness of a cornered alley cat. “That includes you,” he snapped, his voice low and edged with warning.

Micah scowled, his mouth twitching as if biting back a retort. With a huff, he pushed himself off the railing, muttering under his breath as he stormed toward the door. “I’ll be havin’ a word with Kate soon enough,” he grumbled, the words dripping with irritation and something more sinister.

Dutch didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the horizon, but his jaw tightened. The tension in the air lingered long after Micah’s footsteps faded, leaving the balcony eerily quiet except for the distant hum of the camp below.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate settled in with the girls near the edge of the property, the late morning sun casting long, golden beams over their little corner of the camp. Mary-Beth and Tilly were huddled over a shared wash bin, their hands working diligently through the soapy water as they chatted. Karen, standing nearby, wrung out damp shirts before draping them over the sagging clothesline. 

Abigail perched on an overturned milk crate, her needle flashing in the sunlight as she sewed a hole in John’s shirt. A few feet away, Jack was skipping rocks across a shallow muddy stream, his gray mutt Cain loyally trotting beside him.

Sadie had left only moments before, tipping her hat in farewell as she and Pearson headed to the market. The small circle of women now felt more intimate, their chatter uninterrupted by the rest of the camp. Kate took her seat beside Abigail, leaning her head playfully against her shoulder.

“Why do men always have to be so difficult?” Kate sighed dramatically, though her tone held a teasing edge.

Abigail barked a laugh, not missing a beat. “They’re born that way, sweetie. Only know how to think with that ugly thing danglin’ between their legs.”

Kate snorted, shaking her head. “Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered under her breath, drawing more giggles from the group.

Abigail’s sharp eyes caught movement through the trees, and she nudged Kate with her elbow. “Speaking of the devil,” she teased, nodding toward the treeline. Arthur was saddling Belle, his familiar figure framed by dappled sunlight as he prepared to ride out for the day. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since you got back. We’re dying to hear the details!” Abigail’s voice held a mischievous lilt, her grin barely restrained.

The mere mention of Kate’s night with Arthur sent a ripple of excitement through the group. Mary-Beth and Tilly immediately turned their wide, eager eyes on Kate, while Karen, who had been pretending to ignore the chatter, stepped closer, her interest betrayed by the sly smirk on her face.

Kate groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Absolutely not,” Mary-Beth said, practically bouncing with anticipation. “We need every detail. Was it romantic? Did he make you feel like a princess? Oh! Was he yearning for you, like Romeo yearning for his Jul–”

“Let her speak!” Tilly cut in, her voice brimming with laughter as she waved Mary-Beth into silence. “You’re scaring the poor girl.”

Kate peeked through her fingers, already blushing at their enthusiasm. These women were more than friends—they were her family, and she couldn’t deny how much they genuinely cared about Arthur, too. Their curiosity wasn’t just nosy; it was fueled by a shared hope to see Arthur happy again, and by extension, to see their family hold on to some measure of joy amid their chaotic lives.

“Alright, alright,” Kate relented with a small smile, sitting up straighter. “What do you want to know?”

“How was it?” Mary-Beth asked in a rushed whisper, as though trying to keep the moment sacred. “Did he sweep you off your feet? Was there candlelight? Poetry?”

Karen snorted. “Arthur Morgan? Poetry? Now I’ve gotta hear this.”

Kate laughed, her cheeks warming. “It was... perfect, in its own way. We stayed at this little inn outside of town. We shared a fancy wine—Italian red fit for royalty, no less.”

“Italian red?” Tilly repeated, grinning. “That man knows how to impress.”

Kate nodded. “He even drew us a bath after we—” she looked down bashfully remembering the moment, “it was so relaxing, he really put so much thought into it. It was like, for one night, the world didn’t exist. Just us.”

Mary-Beth clasped her hands to her chest, her eyes shining. “Oh, that’s so romantic. I knew Arthur had it in him!”

Karen chuckled, shaking her head. “Never thought I’d hear Arthur Morgan and romantic in the same sentence. I’ll give him credit, though—he’s full of surprises.”

Kate hesitated, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “He was... vulnerable, too. I think it scared him a little, being that open. It had been so long for the both of us, we were frightened by the intimacy of it in our own ways. But I could tell he wanted me to know how much it meant to him.”

Abigail gave Kate a warm, approving look. “Good for you, Kate. It’s about time Arthur had someone to knock some sense into that thick head of his.”

Mary-Beth leaned closer, her grin downright mischievous now. “So when are we gonna see some little Morgans running around, huh? Oh, I bet they would be so cute!”

The laughter around the circle faltered as Tilly, with a quick flick of her wrist, gently swatted the back of Mary-Beth’s head. “Quit getting ahead of yourself. This ain’t no place to raise a child right now,” she chided. Her words hung in the air, drawing a fleeting glance toward Abigail. Tilly quickly softened, not meaning to offend, but Abigail only nodded solemnly, her needle pausing mid-stitch.

Kate felt her chest tighten. There was that word again—children. 

Her fingers fidgeted, wringing the fabric of her shirt as if trying to ground herself. Arthur’s words from the night before echoed in her mind. He’d been so understanding, so patient. But a stubborn ache still nestled deep within her, whispering that she wasn’t enough. That she could never give him the family he might yearn for, the one he deserved.

Her thoughts drifted to another time, another life. She could still see Lorena’s tiny face, pink and wrinkled, the way her cries had filled the cold night air the moment she was born. The overwhelming joy of holding her for the first time, her fragile body fitting perfectly in Kate’s arms. She could remember the fear when Lorena wouldn’t latch to her breast, followed by the sheer relief when she finally began to suckle. And her husband—his face softened with awe as he cradled their daughter, his hand so large against her tiny frame. It had been a fleeting dream, one snatched away far too soon.

Kate swallowed hard, the memories burning her throat. These women had become her sisters, her confidants in a world where trust was rare. She owed them the truth—not just for their sake, but for her own. Speaking the words aloud felt like carving them into stone, grounding herself in a reality she couldn’t afford to dream away.

“Girls,” Kate said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. But it was enough to draw their attention, their chatter silencing as they turned to her. Abigail tilted her head curiously, Mary-Beth’s eager grin fading into something more thoughtful. Even Karen looked up from the clothesline, sensing the shift in the air.

Kate took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “When this is all said and done—if Arthur and I make it out of this mess alive—you know in my heart, I would love his child more fiercely than anything I’ve ever known.”

The rings Hosea had given her at the garden party suddenly felt like molten iron resting against her chest. She had worn them ever since that night, strung on a simple chain and tucked safely beneath her shirt. They were a constant reminder of his faith in her and Arthur—a faith that now felt like a bittersweet burden. Hosea had never spoken of building a family with Arthur, only of survival. His words echoed in her mind, urging them to keep moving, to never look back, and to carve out a life beyond this.

To live out her days with Arthur—that was the dream. The only dream that mattered. And yet, as much as she clung to it, the weight of those rings made her question if it was a promise she could truly keep 

Her voice wavered, but she pushed on, her gaze fixed on her trembling hands. “But I can’t have a baby. My scars run so deep, and I haven’t bled in years. The doctor said it’s just not possible.” She added with an air of defeat.

The confession hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Mary-Beth’s mouth opened slightly, her usual stream of romantic notions and optimistic chatter nowhere to be found. Tilly’s dark eyes softened with understanding, while Karen’s jaw tightened. Abigail placed her mending aside, leaning closer to rest a hand on Kate’s knee.

“Oh, honey,” Abigail murmured, voice low and warm. “I am so sorry.”

Kate managed a tight smile, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “It’s alright. It’s just… something I’ve had to come to terms with lately. The thought of having children again never even crossed my mind until I met Arthur.”

“Does he know?” Tilly asked quietly, like it was a secret they were trying to keep amongst themselves. 

“Arthur knows,” Kate confirmed, “and he’s been… well, he’s been strong about it. But I guess it still stings, y’know? I just don’t want him to think less of me be–”

“He would never think that Kate,” Karen interrupted, intense and almost angry. “Don’t you ever sell yourself short because of what you went through. You are a survivor, Arthur knows it too.”  

“You didn’t deserve that pain,” Tilly said firmly, her voice resolute. “None of it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Mary-Beth agreed, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her apron. “But you’ve got us now, and Arthur too. We’ll always be your family. And if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

Kate nodded, “seems it’s all a girl can really ask for these days. Happiness.” Her throat was too tight to speak further. 

Abigail gave her knee a reassuring squeeze before sitting back, resuming her sewing. But the energy in the circle had shifted—less playful, perhaps, but more intimate. These women, her sisters in arms, had embraced her truth without judgment, offering her the quiet strength and support she hadn’t realized she needed.

Jack’s cheerful laughter broke the moment as he chased Cain along the water’s edge. The sight brought a small, genuine smile to Kate’s lips. Children weren’t in her future—but she wasn’t without family. And for now, in this fleeting moment of peace, that was enough.

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The afternoon sun blazed down on the camp, its relentless heat turning the air thick and sticky. Cicadas shrieked from the swampland, their hum almost deafening as it blended with the soft rustle of the bayou breeze. Kate wiped the sweat from her brow and cupped her hands around her mouth, calling out again, her voice tinged with worry.

“Lorena!” she shouted, cutting through the oppressive haze. Her mare was nowhere in sight. Kate’s stomach twisted with unease—Lorena always came when called. Even from a distance, she had an uncanny knack for recognizing Kate’s voice. But now? Silence.

Miss Grimshaw had sent Kate out to gather firewood, complaining that the damp logs wouldn’t burn worth a damn. Kate had been happy to oblige, eager for an excuse to stretch her legs and ride out of camp for a bit. But now her mind buzzed with worst-case scenarios. Did she wander too far? Or… did something happen to her? Images of lurking gators and toothy predators crept into her thoughts, making her heart pound faster.

She jogged back into camp, weaving between wagons and tents, her boots kicking up dry dust. “Kieran!” she called, sharp with urgency. She spotted him near the edge of camp, hunched over a rotting fence as he worked on a battered leather saddle. The young man flinched at her shout, straightening so abruptly that his hat nearly tumbled off his head.

Kate quickened her pace, closing the distance. “Kieran,” she repeated, softer this time, though her nerves still frayed her tone. “Have you seen Lorena?”

Kieran turned to face her fully, and Kate’s breath hitched. Beneath the brim of his straw hat, his right eye was swollen and discolored, a deep purple bruise spreading across his cheekbone. She winced, anger bubbling at the sight. The others were too harsh on him, always using him as their punching bag.

Kieran stepped back instinctively, holding up his hands in defense, his good eye darting nervously. “I—I swear, Kate, I was meanin’ to tell ya,” he stammered, words spilling out in a panicked rush. “But you were with Miss Mary-Beth, and I didn’t wanna interrupt—”

“Easy, Kieran,” Kate said, lifting her hands to calm him. “Just tell me what’s going on. Where’s Lorena?”

Kieran hesitated, glancing down at his boots like a guilty child caught in a lie. “Micah took her,” he mumbled, the words almost too quiet to hear. He flinched at the cold look that flashed across Kate’s face and quickly added, “B-but I tried to stop him! I swear I did! Told him, ‘You’ll have to get through me if you want her!’ And, well… he did.” He gestured to his bruised face, grimacing.

Kate’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. “He said he was takin’ her to exercise by the lake, just past the manor,” Kieran continued in a rush, voice trembling. “I didn’t wanna bother you or the girls. They, uh… they don’t really like me much. But I should’ve told ya sooner, I know I should’ve. I’m sorry.”

Kate exhaled slowly, trying to tamp down the storm of anger brewing inside her. Micah. Of course, it was him. This wasn’t about exercising Lorena—it was a ploy, a pathetic attempt to get under her skin. She’d seen him pull stunts like this before, but involving her horse? That was a step too far.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to snap at Kieran. The poor man had already taken a beating for trying to protect her mare. “You did what you could,” Kate said, her voice steady, though her jaw remained tight. “Thanks for telling me.”

Kieran’s shoulders sagged with relief, but guilt still clouded his expression. “Take Branwen with ya,” he offered, nodding toward his gelding tied nearby. “He’s fast and steady. He’ll get you there safe.”

“Thank you,” Kate placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll handle this, Kieran. And don’t let these idiots make you feel like you’re less than you are. You’re better than all of ‘em. Remember that.”

Kieran’s face flushed, and he gave a shy nod. “Be careful, Kate.”

“I will.” She turned on her heel, her boots crunching against the dirt as she strode toward Branwen. Her mind was already racing with how she’d confront Micah—and what it would take to bring Lorena back safe and sound. Whatever game he was playing, it ended here.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The sun was dipping low, casting jagged shadows across the bayou as Kate rode Branwen toward the lake Micah had mentioned. Her heart hammered in her chest, but her resolve was steely. The thought of Lorena—her steadfast, loyal mare—being used as a pawn in one of Micah’s twisted games only fueled her determination. 

She thought of the last time he had decided to cross her, the cool press of her jawbone knife against his throat as she led him away from the others for private conversation. Clearly her threat didn’t do much good, or perhaps Micah was more stupid than he looked. Maybe this time I’ll take a pound of his flesh as penance, Kate thought with a vengeful sneer.

As she approached the clearing by the water, she spotted them. Lorena stood grazing peacefully near the water’s edge, her glossy midnight coat shimmering in the golden light. Upon her arrival the young mare looked up and tossed her head, expressing her unease at the situation.

Relief washed over Kate for a brief moment—at least her mare was unharmed. But then her eyes found Micah. He was perched lazily on a fallen log, his hat tilted back and a smug grin plastered across his face, as if he’d been waiting for her.

Kate dismounted Branwen swiftly, her boots crunching against the damp ground as she approached. Micah’s grin widened, his sharp eyes tracking her every move. She fought down the urge to wipe his smile off with her fist.

“Ah, look who finally came runnin’,” he drawled, his voice thick with mockery. “I was wonderin’ how long it’d take you to miss your precious pony.” He sat up on the log to face her fully.

Kate stopped a few feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Cut the shit, Micah. What the hell are you playing at? You’ve got my attention so get on with it before I shoot you for stealin’ my horse.” Lorena came closer and nuzzled her snout against Kate’s back, standing protectively behind her.

Micah chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he stood. “Steal? Oh, come on now, darlin’. I was just takin’ her out for some air, stretchin’ her legs. You really oughta be thankin’ me for my kindness.”

Kate’s jaw tightened, and her simmering anger finally reached its boiling point. She slapped him hard across the mouth. Lorena’s ears flattened as the sound echoed over the lake. 

“Don’t insult me! I know damn well you didn’t do this out of the kindness of your heart. If you went through all this trouble to get my attention then you’re wasting your time.” She turned to her mare, prepared to jump in the saddle and take off without a moment's hesitation.

Micah only chuckled and rubbed at the pink mark across his cheek. He stepped closer, his grin fading slightly, replaced by something more calculating. “Fine. You wanna get straight to it then? Here it is—I’m happy for you and Arthur.” The words dripped with insincerity, his smirk returning as he added, “Real happy. Warms my heart seein’ the two of you lovebirds all cozy.” He wrapped his arms around his body and shimmied, mocking her affections.

Kate rolled her eyes in annoyance, her voice icy. “Fuck.You.” She spat. “You don’t give a rat's ass about my life, or Arthur’s.”

“How perceptive,” his laugh was sharp and bitter. “You’re right. I don’t give a shit. But you two are livin’ in a damn dream world, and dreams don’t last long out here sweetheart.”

Kate’s heart pounded harder, though she kept her expression steady. “What are you gettin’ at, Micah?” Pulling a brush from her saddle bag she idly cleaned Lorena’s coat to maintain an air of indifference. There was an undeniable threat hidden behind his words that put her on edge.

Micah leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “I’m sayin’ you and your cowboy should saddle up and ride out while you still can. Things are shiftin’, Kate. Dutch is losing sense, and this little family of his? It’s startin’ to crack. You stick around, you ought to get caught in the crossfire.”

It was clear as day—Dutch was leading them into darkness. Kate could see it, and so could Arthur, but his loyalty bound him like chains. That unwavering faith, instilled in him since he was just a boy, refused to break. Arthur still clung to the hope that Dutch, his fearless leader, would guide them through every trial, that he’d brave the fires of hell itself for their sake. But Kate knew better, and the others were beginning to catch on. If it were up to her, she would have taken Arthur and the Marstons and left the moment the raid was done. The image of Jack’s terrified face and Abigail’s heart-wrenching sobs would haunt her forever. No family should have to endure such horror—especially not their child.

After Sean’s death and Jack’s kidnapping, it felt like the next tragedy was just a card flip away. And Kate had no faith in the hand Micah was dealing—he knew something the rest of them didn’t, and she was certain he was betting it all on a game rigged in his favor.

Unflinching, Kate squared her shoulders. “Funny how you care so much all of a sudden. You’ve been gunnin’ to get rid of Arthur since the day you joined. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Micah’s grin faltered, his eyes darkening. “Arthur thinks he’s untouchable, thinks Dutch will always have his back. But you’ve seen it, haven’t you? The favoritism shiftin’. Arthur ain’t who he used to be, maybe it’s time a good fellow like me takes the reins.”

Kate took a step closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “You’re right, I have seen it. But you? You’ll always be on the bottom of the totem pole, no matter how hard you try to claw your way to the top. Arthur doesn’t trust you, and neither does anyone else.” She wanted to believe that was true, but she couldn’t deny that nearly every trap they’ve fallen into, Micah and Dutch had some part in it.

Micah’s jaw clenched, the easy arrogance slipping for just a moment. Then he laughed again, though it was hollow. “Maybe. But at least I know how to adapt, Kate. Can you say the same for Arthur? For you? We’ve all seen the way he looks at ya, like he’s caught between love and loyalty. Maybe all he really needs is a little push.”

Kate felt a pang of unease at his words, but she refused to let him see it. “We’re stronger than you think. And if you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.”

Micah tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Suit yourself. Y’know, Kate, you and I woulda made a hell of a team. It’s a damn shame you gave up on all that Red River nonsense.”

The name hit her like a gunshot, her breath hitching as her body stiffened. Red River. It wasn’t just a place or a memory; it was a wound she had worked tirelessly to sew shut, only to feel it tearing open again. How did Micah know? His words coiled around her like a noose, tightening with every second of silence. Her mind was scrambling for answers, for any clue as to how he could have dredged up a chapter of her life she had buried so deep it felt like another lifetime.

Red River had been a crucible, a place where violence wasn’t merely a means to survive but the only currency that mattered. It was a legacy. River, her old mentor, confidant, and the closest thing to an ally she’d ever known in those days, had worn the title like a crown. To him, it was a badge of honor that commanded respect and dread in equal measure.

The name wasn’t just earned; it was carved into the memory of every place they left behind. Kate could still see the black ink of the newspapers they passed on those rare occasions they ventured through town after another excruciating bloodbath. The headlines always whispered the same chilling phrase: Beware—The Red River Flows.

She could never forget the weight of that notoriety, the way strangers’ faces twisted in fear at the mere mention of them. It was intoxicating at the time, but the high never lasted. It was always followed by the sickening crash, the realization of just how deep they had sunk into the abyss. The rivers they left behind weren’t just crimson; they were poisoned with regret, a tide she had fought desperately to escape.

Kate had left it all behind, swearing never to look back. Yet here it was, rising from the depths like a vengeful spirit. Her secrets had been flooding back to her lately—first her barren womb, now the dark and brutal truths she had fought so hard to escape. It was as if the world itself was conspiring to remind her of what she’d been, of what she was still capable of becoming.

Micah’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, a mocking lilt dripping with arrogance. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya when this all comes crashin’ down.”

Kate turned her back on him, running a hand down Lorena’s neck, grateful to feel the warmth of her trusted companion grounding her to the present. “Stay out of my way, Micah,” she said without looking at him. “And stay the hell away from my horse.”

As Kate swung into Lorena’s saddle, her gaze flicked back to Micah. He stood there, smirking, but beneath the amusement lurked something colder, more calculating. She didn’t trust him—she never had—but his words clung to her like a spur, prickling and persistent.

As she rode toward camp, the wind tugging at her hair, her mind churned with unanswered questions. Whatever Micah was scheming, whatever cards he held close to his chest, one thing was certain: she’d do whatever it took to protect her family. They wouldn’t be the ones to pay the price.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The storm rolled in with a vengeance, its low growl reverberating through the bayou as clouds smothered the fading light. Rain fell in relentless sheets, drenching everything in its path. Arthur Morgan squinted through the downpour as he guided Belle up the muddy path toward the crumbling manor they’d been calling home. Water sluiced off the brim of his hat and soaked through his coat, but he didn’t care much. He’d been through worse storms, though something about tonight gnawed at him—a nagging burden he couldn’t shake.

Belle snorted as Arthur dismounted, shaking her wet mane before trotting off to find her companion. The young cowboy turned toward the manor, ready to do the same. His boots sinking slightly into the mud with each step, his mind already ahead of him. The glow of candlelight flickered weakly in the upstairs window of their shared room, and he found his thoughts drifting to Kate. A pang of guilt struck him; their night in Saint Denis already felt so far away.

Since returning to their lives he’d barely had time to hold her, let alone talk like they used to. She deserved better than a man whose hands were stained and pockets full of excuses. His body was aching to be wrapped around his woman and let the world melt away. Wanting to throw caution to the wind and make love to her on their shared cot without a care who would hear. 

A sudden streak of color in the storm’s gloom caught his eye. Bright red, a startling splash against the gray monotony of rain and mud. He stopped, narrowing his eyes. It was Molly O’Shea, standing alone at the end of the dock, her dress clinging to her in the rain, her fiery red hair whipping about. Like a burning ember taking off in the wind. 

Arthur frowned. It wasn’t just odd to see her out here—it was unsettling. Molly rarely ventured far from Dutch’s shadow, and her fragile mood had been fracturing more and more with each passing day. The echoes of laughter and conversation drifted faintly from the manor, but Molly had chosen the isolation of the storm.

With a sigh of resignation, Arthur tugged his coat tighter and shouldered the burden of responsibility. Headed for the dock, his boots splashing through puddles as the rain needled his face. "Miss. O’Shea!" his voice was nearly swallowed by a crash of thunder. "What in hell’re you doin’ out here? Get inside before you catch your death!"

“Miss. O’Shea!” He shouted again after she didn’t move. Her shoulders were rigid, her arms folded tight across her chest. It wasn’t until Arthur reached her and grabbed her wrist that she reacted, jerking back like a startled animal.

"Let me go!" she cried, voice raw and trembling. "Leave me be, Arthur!"

Arthur tightened his grip, his patience thinning with the storm battering at his resolve. "For God’s sake, woman, what are you tryin’ to prove? You think standin’ out here in the rain is gonna fix anything?"

Her face turned up to his, and he saw it—anger and heartbreak etched in equal measure, tears mixing with the rain on her flushed cheeks. "You don’t understand!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "None of you do!”

“I’m just a goddamn shadow in this place. And now I’ve been tossed aside, burned to ash like his used cigar." She explained in a rush. 

Arthur’s jaw tightened, frustration bubbling beneath his weariness. He knew exactly where this was headed— she and Dutch had another fight, only adding more turmoil to their situation. “That ain’t true, and you know it,” he said, rough with exhaustion. “Dutch is just under a lot of pressure. Now quit actin’ foolish and—”

“I am no idiot, Arthur Morgan!” Molly’s fists struck his chest, weak but relentless, her anger spilling over like a dam that had finally burst. “I know I deserve better than this!”

Arthur flinched at her words, not from the force of her blows but from the rawness of her pain. He raised his hands, palms up in a gesture of peace. “C’mon, Molly. You know what I meant,” he said softly, already regretting the edge in his earlier tone.

Molly’s eyes blazed as her fists continued to strike, her voice rising over the pounding rain. “He only cares about his plans and himself, and I’m tired of it! I’m done!” Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her hands, her words cracking under the weight of her sobs. “I gave him everything!”

Arthur stood firm, letting her vent her fury. He had seen this kind of desperation before, a fire that burned brightest right before it consumed everything. Deep down, he had hoped Kate’s idea to invite Molly to the garden party would give her a reprieve, a chance to bond with the others. But Molly had stayed on the fringes, choosing isolation. Now, Arthur was beginning to see why. She wasn’t just lonely—she was cast adrift in a sea of her own pain.

“You don’t understand,” Molly whispered, her voice breaking as her fists fell limply against his soaked coat. Her strength was spent, and her grief clung to her like the rain. “You don’t understand what it’s like to love someone who promised you everything, only to turn around and look at you like you’re nothing.”

Arthur exhaled slowly, his frustration melting into something softer. He reached out, pulling her trembling form against his chest, her forehead resting on his collarbone. “Look,” he began, his voice low and careful, “I know things ain’t exactly been easy lately but—”

“I see things clearly now,” she cut him off, her voice steadier but colder.

Arthur froze as her next words fell like a thunderclap. “And I will not let him cage me or my child.”

His breath caught, his chest tightening as if he’d taken a bullet. “What?” The single word slipped out, stunned and disbelieving.

Molly’s trembling hand wiped at her wet face, her defiance now tempered by visible fear. Arthur’s hands rested lightly on her shoulders, steady but not confining. “Does he know this?” he asked, his voice hushed but firm.

Her eyes darted away, her teeth clenching as she hissed, “He can never know.”

Arthur’s mind raced, struggling to piece together what this meant. He wanted to reassure her, to say it would all be fine, but he couldn’t lie—not about this. “Molly... Dutch needs to know,” he said slowly, forcing the words out. “You can’t keep somethin’ like this from him.”

“No!” Molly’s fingers grabbed fistfuls of his coat, her wide eyes brimming with panic. “Arthur, you have no idea what he’ll do! You don’t know!”

Arthur shook his head, the disbelief plain on his face. “You really think he’d hurt you?” he asked, though deep down, the fear in her eyes unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Molly looked away, her silence answering louder than words. The realization hit him like a gut punch, anger, guilt and betrayal swirling together in his chest.

“Shit,” he muttered, unable to muster anything more profound.

He dragged a hand down his face, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. Glancing briefly at the flickering light spilling from the manor, he wished Kate were there. She’d know what to say, how to make this mess feel less impossible. “I-I’ll talk some sense into Dutch,” he stammered. “We’ll figure somethin’ out.”

“Please, you cannot tell him!” Molly’s voice rose, the wind carrying her desperation.

Arthur hesitated, his mind like a spinning weathervane. Torn between loyalty, duty, and the undeniable fear in her eyes. “This ain’t right, Molly. You’re askin’ me to—”

“No one can know about this, Arthur,” she interrupted, her voice cracking as the storm rolled closer, the thunder growling like a warning. “Not yet.”

The silence stretched between them, the rain hammering down as Arthur wrestled with his decision. Finally, he gave her a small, reluctant nod. “Alright. I won’t say nothin’.”

Relief flickered briefly in her expression, but it was quickly overshadowed by the lingering dread. She turned, her shoulders hunched as she trudged toward the house, the storm raging around her.

Arthur stayed behind, letting the rain soak him as he stared into the night. He could feel the storm brewing—not just in the skies above, but in the fractures threatening to shatter the fragile foundation of their gang. Whatever was coming, he knew he’d be standing in the middle of it, trying to hold the pieces together.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The storm outside howled, rattling the windows of the old manor and sending tendrils of wind slipping through the cracks. The flickering orange glow of the candles cast shadows that danced across the room's peeling wallpaper, painting the space in warmth and decay. Kate sat on the edge of their creaky cot, a book resting in her hands, though her eyes weren’t on the pages. She’d been listening for the familiar sound of Arthur’s heavy boots on the stairs, waiting for him to come back from another long day.

When he finally appeared in the doorway, she set the book aside, her lips curving into a soft smile. "You look like hell," she mused, taking in the sight of him. His broad figure was soaked to the bone, the rain glistening on his jacket as he moved into the room, shoulders slumped and eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

Arthur didn’t respond. He let his sodden hat drop to the floor with a wet plop, followed by the heavy thud of his soaked jacket and the clinking weight of his gun belt. His boots were kicked off haphazardly, landing somewhere near the door, forgotten as he trudged toward her like a man finally succumbing to the unbearable weight of the world.

Without a word, Arthur sank to his knees before her, as if he was praying at the altar. Bowing his head into her lap like a man at confession. His large hands wrapped around her waist, seeking her solace. 

Kate’s breath hitched, her heart softening at the sight. “Oh, honey,” she murmured, her voice laced with quiet concern. She leaned over him, her hair cascading around them like a curtain, sheltering him from everything beyond. “What happened?”

His wet hair and scruffy face pressed into the fabric of her skirt, damp and chilled, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, her hands moved instinctively, threading through his hair, her fingers trailing gentle strokes over his scalp. Each touch seemed to carry a quiet promise of comfort, warmth, and love. She could feel the tension coiled within him, the weight of it pressing down on his broad shoulders.

Arthur wanted to say everything and nothing all at once. The words clawed at his throat, desperate for release. He wanted to take the burdens off his chest and hang them out to dry in her sunlight. To lay in this moment with her forever, in this perfect silence. All else was futile, he couldn’t find the words to express that he felt like he was the only one taking the defense against a rain of arrows.

He didn’t answer right away. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as he pressed his face into the curve of her thighs, breathing deeply. Her scent—clean and warm, with a faint trace of the earth—steadied him, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

The confession lingered on the edge of his tongue, a restless weight he longed to release. He ached to tell her what he knew, if only to shoulder it with someone else. Arthur resolved to let Molly reveal the truth in her own time; it was the only kindness he could offer. 

Kate already carried so much, and he couldn’t bear the thought of adding more to her troubles. More often than not, he was the heaviest of them. So Arthur swallowed the hollow ache in his chest, forcing it down into the depths where it couldn’t touch her.

Her fingers continued their gentle work, combing through his hair and massaging the tense muscles at the base of his neck. "You okay, my love?" she asked quietly, her voice a tender balm to his frayed nerves.

A deep, weary sigh rumbled from his chest as he turned his head, resting his cheek against her like she was the only pillow he’d ever need. "Please tell me you had a better day than I did," he muttered, his voice muffled and low.

Kate smiled faintly, though her heart ached for him. She shifted slightly, her free hand coming to rest on his broad shoulder, her thumb tracing slow, comforting circles. "That bad, huh?"

Arthur let out a small, weary laugh, though it carried no real humor. “You could say that,” he mumbled, avoiding her concerned gaze. Eager to steer the conversation anywhere but the storm raging in his mind, he added, “How was your day?”

Kate raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. She knew that deflection when she saw it but decided to play along for now. “Well,” she started with a wry smile, “can’t say it was all sunshine and roses. Had a little run-in with Micah earlier.”

The mention of Micah’s name wiped the softness from Arthur’s face. His body stiffened, his shoulders squaring as tension rippled through him. That bastard had been giving Kate and the other women a hard time since the day he showed up, and it grated on him that Dutch wouldn’t let him put an end to it the way he wanted to—with a bullet. 

He leaned forward slightly, voice low and rough. “Shit, I’m sorry, darlin’. What’d he do this time?”

Kate waved a hand dismissively, though her jaw tightened at the memory. “Micah was just being Micah. Took Lorena to get under my skin.” Her tone was calm, but the spark of annoyance in her eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t want to get into it, though. Not right now.” She paused, her voice softening. “Tell me about Rains Fall.”

Arthur pulled back slightly, his brows knitting. She had a way of redirecting him, turning his focus away from her troubles without making him feel dismissed. He could sense a hint of something beneath her words—an eagerness she was trying to mask—but he didn’t press. Instead, he stood and began peeling off his damp clothes, speaking as he moved. 

“I didn’t see any broken bones or missin’ fingers, so I take it your girl’s okay?” The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly, his tone teasing.

Kate laughed, a genuine, soft sound that filled the small room and eased the weight pressing on his chest. Her laughter was answer enough. Arthur always admired her strength—not just the physical kind, though she could hold her own—but the mental and emotional resilience she carried. She didn’t back down, not even against someone like Micah, and though he admired it, it worried him too.

As he tugged a dry shirt over his head, Arthur grabbed a cigarette from the table and nodded toward the porch door, signaling his intention without a word. Kate’s eyes flicked to the cigarette, her lips tightening ever so slightly. She wasn’t a fan of his smoking, but she understood it. He only reached for them when his nerves were frayed, and she could tell that today had been one of those days.

She followed him outside, the porch roof offering them a small shelter from the rain. The storm still swirling around them but bringing with it a strange kind of peace in its chaos. Arthur lit the cigarette with ease, taking a slow drag as he leaned against the railing. Kate stood beside him, her arms wrapped around his for warmth, though she didn’t seem to mind the rain-slicked air when it blew against them.

Closing her eyes for a moment as a few drops peppered her face in wet kisses. Kate breathed in the smell of the storm mingled with the scent of Arthur. It was electric and powerful, yet comforting. 

“So,” she pressed gently, “how did it go? With Rains Fall?” 

Arthur exhaled a long stream of smoke, his eyes fixed on the horizon. For a moment, he didn’t answer, the words catching in his throat. But then he glanced at her, the warmth in her gaze enough to coax him into opening up about his day.

“It went about as well as it could, I guess,” he said finally. “He’s... wise. Gentle. But he’s carryin’ a lot on his plate. His people are bein’ crushed, and chased from their own land. He’s really struggling trying to hold ’em together. And running out of options.” He shook his head slightly. 

Kate hummed softly in acknowledgment, her gaze distant as she stared out at the rain. “I’m afraid it’s been that way for a long time, Arthur. They’re a dying herd, with nowhere left to go.” Her voice was tinged with sadness, her thoughts drifting to her own experiences with the Native tribes. Despite the immense losses they had suffered, she remembered their warmth, their resilience. They had welcomed her once, even when the world had turned its back on them.

Arthur leaned against the porch railing, silent for a moment, lost in thought. The cigarette burned slowly between his fingers, a faint orange glow against the stormy gray. “Kinda reminded me of...” His voice trailed off, the words sticking in his throat as his mind shifted to the gang. To Dutch. To the fragile threads holding them all together, fraying more with each passing day.

Kate turned to him, her hand finding his. She squeezed gently, her touch bringing him back. “Remind you of what?” she asked, her voice soft, coaxing.

Arthur shook his head and gave her a small, tired smile. “Sorry. S’not important,” he murmured, taking another slow drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke into the rain-laden air. He hesitated, then continued. “Anyway, Cornwall’s behind it all. And he’s got his claws in deep. He’s after their land—wants to start another oil rig on their reservation but they’re refusin’ to leave.”

Kate’s brow furrowed, her fingers still resting on his arm. “What does that mean for them?” She inquired, fearing she already knew the answer. 

Arthur’s expression darkened. “Cornwall’s got the U.S military involved and he denied a peace treaty. His people have nowhere else to go. They can hardly leave the reservation without gettin’ killed.” 

“Jesus,” Kate murmured as thunder cracked across the night sky.

“He wants me to talk sense into his boy, Eagle Flies. The kid’s stirrin’ up talk of a war. He’s ready to fight, Kate” He paused, running a hand over his face. “Rains Fall, though... he doesn't want all this bloodshed. And I don’t see what Dutch has to gain from gettin’ involved in this.”

Kate’s lips pressed into a thin line, concern flickering in her eyes as she studied Arthur’s troubled face. “What do you make of it?” she asked softly, her voice barely rising above the sound of the storm.

Arthur sighed deeply, the weight of the question pressing heavily on his chest. “I think Dutch wants to use Rains Fall and his son to take the heat off us,” he admitted, his voice rough with frustration. “But he can’t let Cornwall go. He’s convinced there’s money in this—some backdoor plan to get us out by stirrin’ up even more trouble.”

Kate reached up, her fingers brushing away a damp strand of hair clinging to his forehead. Her touch was gentle yet grounding, as though tethering him to the here and now. “You’re in a tough spot,” she said quietly, sympathy threading her words.

Arthur huffed a bitter laugh, devoid of humor. “I don’t like it, Kate. There ain’t nothin’ I can do to really help those people, and I don’t want to be the one to make things worse.” His gaze drifted away, out into the storm, the rolling thunder echoing the unrest roiling within him.

Kate placed a steady hand over his heart, her palm cool against his rain-damp shirt. Arthur’s fingers instinctively wrapped around hers, anchoring him. “And you don’t have to be,” she said firmly, her tone carrying a quiet conviction. “You’re not all bad, Arthur. I see the good in you every day.” Her hand slid upward to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over his scruffy skin. “Maybe it’s time to start choosing it.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch before pressing a tender kiss to her palm. “You’re too sweet for me, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude and weariness.

Flicking the glowing ember of his cigarette off the porch, Arthur turned to face the manor. He pulled Kate flush against him, her back resting against his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Together, they swayed gently to the rhythm of the storm, the low rumble of thunder a steady backdrop. Arthur leaned down, brushing soft, lingering kisses against her temple, his lips speaking volumes where words could not. “Your turn,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Tell me about your day.”

Kate sighed, leaning into his embrace as her thoughts churned. She could feel the weight of his exhaustion in the way he held her, in the subtle tremble of his voice. There was more he wasn’t saying—an invisible burden he was shouldering alone. She debated whether to share her own troubles, but her instincts told her he needed something else. Something deeper.

Turning in his arms, she looked up into his stormy blue eyes, searching their depths. “Are you sure words are what you need right now?” she asked softly, dipping into something more intimate.

Without waiting for a response, she snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him, her lips capturing his with a hunger that had been building in her chest. Arthur responded with a low moan, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping past her lips in a fervent, wordless exchange.

The storm outside seemed to mirror their passion, the wind howling through the open porch door as a few of the candles flickered out. Their breaths mingled in the dark each touch and gasp speaking the truths neither of them could say aloud.

A faint creak cut through the noise of the storm, the unmistakable groan of wood shifting under a hesitant step. Arthur and Kate both froze, their heads snapping toward the sound. There, at the edge of the dimly lit porch, stood Jack, his small frame draped in a worn blanket. His wide eyes darted between them, curiosity and confusion painted across his young face.

Arthur cleared his throat, instinctively stepping in front of Kate as if shielding her from the boy’s innocent gaze. “Jack?” he asked gently, softening his tone. “What’re you doin’ out here? You should be sleepin’.”

Jack shifted nervously, clutching the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “The storm’s too loud,” he mumbled, glancing back at the open window of his room. “And Mama won’t let Cain sleep with me.”

Kate stepped forward, brushing her fingers lightly over Arthur’s arm before kneeling in front of Jack. Her warm smile cut through the tension like sunlight through clouds. “Well, you’re in luck,” she said softly. “We’ve got the perfect spot to wait out the storm. Want to hang with us for a bit?”

Jack hesitated, then nodded. Kate scooped him into her embrace, and Arthur noticed how much bigger the boy looked in her arms from the last time she held him. He was growing fast, and the thought tugged at something deep inside Arthur. 

“Does Cain help you sleep through the storm?” Kate asked as she cradled Jack close, her voice gentle.

Jack nodded again, his small head resting heavily against her shoulder. “But Mama says he has fleas,” he added, his tone tinged with disappointment.

Arthur chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Well, maybe your mama’s got a point. Those fleas might eat you alive in your sleep.”

Jack’s head shot up, his tiredness momentarily forgotten. “Cain does not have fleas!” he exclaimed, indignation lighting his face.

Kate bit back a laugh, shaking her head as she stroked his back. This storm had everyone on edge tonight. “Alright, alright,” she said soothingly. “Cain’s the cleanest dog in camp, I’m certain of it.” She winked playfully at Arthur. 

Arthur smirked, but his tone turned more serious. “C’mon, Jack. What’s this really about? I know you ain’t just upset over the puppy. You really shouldn’t be up this late.”

Jack hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in Kate’s arms before finally blurting out, “Nobody plays with me anymore.” His voice was small, as though he feared he’d be scolded. “I just want a friend.”

Arthur sighed, his heart twisting at the boy’s honesty. He placed a hand on Jack’s messy hair, ruffling it lightly. “You got friends, Jack. You got Hosea, Lenny, and even the girls. Hell, I’m your friend too.”

Jack scrunched his nose, unimpressed. “You’re too old, Uncle Arthur. I want to play with other kids.”

Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Ouch. Guess I’m past my prime, huh?” He ruffled Jack’s hair gently, trying to lighten the mood despite the heaviness settling in his chest. “Alright, listen. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to your mama. Maybe see about putting you in a school. How’s that sound?”

Jack’s eyes lit up with a flicker of hope, and he nodded eagerly. “You think she’ll say yes?”

Arthur forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll see, kid. No harm in tryin’.”

As Jack leaned into Kate’s arms, already lulled by her presence, Arthur felt his heart lurch. He knew those words were hollow, a fragile attempt to bring the boy comfort. School wasn’t in the cards, not for someone living this life. Jack’s classroom was these four walls, his teachers were the outlaws who kept the camp afloat. Arthur knew it wasn’t fair—knew it because it was exactly how he’d been raised.

He swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at him. Jack deserved better than this, deserved a chance to run with other kids, to laugh without the weight of an uncertain future hanging over him. But the life they’d chosen, the life Dutch swore would set them free, was a cage in its own way. Molly’s words suddenly came back to him like a flood. 

I will not let him cage me or my child.

Jack gave a sleepy nod, his earlier frustration fading as exhaustion took hold again. Kate pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Let’s get you back to bed, little one,” she said, turning towards the door with him still in her arms.

Arthur followed Kate and Jack inside, the storm outside muffling into a distant rumble. The flickering lanterns cast warm, restless shadows on the walls as Kate carried the drowsy boy down the hall. By the time they reached his room, Jack’s head was already heavy on her shoulder.

Arthur leaned against the doorway, watching as she settled the boy into bed with a mother’s touch. His voice was soft, almost reverent, as he said, “You’re good with him.”

Kate glanced back at him, her smile warm but faint. “He just needs someone to listen,” she whispered, brushing Jack’s hair back before pulling the blanket snugly around him.

As Kate began singing a lullaby, Arthur waited outside, his arms crossed, gaze dropping to the floor. Her voice rose gently, weaving through the gaps in the old wooden walls:

"Darlin', I'd wait for you,Even if you didn't ask me to.Tie a lasso around the moon,And bring it on down to you."

The soft melody wrapped around Arthur like a memory he hadn’t known he missed. It held a kind of peace he wasn’t sure he deserved, yet couldn’t help but crave.

The creak of boots on the stairs broke the moment. Arthur straightened, his eyes meeting John’s as the younger man stepped into the lamplight. John’s gaze flickered briefly to the bedroom door before landing on Arthur.

“Storm keeping you up?” John asked, keeping his voice low.

Arthur shrugged, his jaw tightening. “Somethin’ like that.”

Kate’s voice drifted through the cracks again, the soft rise and fall of her melody filling the quiet tension between them:

"I'd bottle the feelin' you give me,And shelve that stuff for years to come.'Cause, baby, when your arms are around me,I'd swear that I'm holding the sun."

John adjusted his hat, stepping closer. “You look like you could use a drink.”

Arthur huffed a tired laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

But John wasn’t here to make small talk. “You find anything worthwhile from Rains Fall today?” he asked, his tone sharpening.

Arthur sighed, glancing at the warped floorboards. “Cornwall’s got it all locked down. We shouldn’t be meddlin’ in this, John. I don’t know what Dutch is thinkin’ anymore.”

John scoffed, his expression hardened. “He’s thinkin’ about his own damn survival, as always. If it’s any consolation, Kate’s intel on the trolley company checked out—there’s no money there. Absolutely nothing. Dutch is fumin’.”

“Good,” Arthur muttered. “One less suicide mission.” He straightened, his voice gaining an edge. “Maybe now Dutch’ll take her more seriously.”

John’s brow arched, his tone suddenly more pointed. “That really what you want, Arthur?”

Arthur frowned, his confusion evident. “What’re you gettin’ at?”

Pushing off the wall, John stepped closer, “it’s all a game to him.” Lowering his voice to a near whisper. “Dutch uses people like pawns. You were once his prized pony, and now you’re the retired work horse. He’s gonna use her, same as the rest of us. Her skills, her intel—he’ll put her on the front lines. And she won’t back down, not if she thinks it’ll help get us out of this mess.”

Arthur’s mouth tightened, a wave of unease crashing over him. Before he could respond, Kate’s lullaby came to an end:

"When dividin' up the universe,You could have mine."

The door creaked softly as Kate stepped out, her eyes warm but tired. She smiled at the two men, sensing the tension but choosing not to pry. “G’night,” she murmured, disappearing into the room she shared with Arthur.

John tipped his hat, his gaze heavy with meaning. “You sure you want her out there?”

The question lingered like smoke in the dim hallway. Arthur didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The thought of Kate in harm’s way made his stomach twist, a visceral fear that would tear him apart at the seams.

With a final nod, John headed to his own room, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts. For a long moment, Arthur stood in the silence, the weight of his brother’s words pressing down on him. Finally, he turned and slipped into his room.

In the darkness, Kate’s soft presence called to him like a lifeline. She was already lying down, her head resting on the pillow, but she shifted as he climbed in beside her. Without a word, Arthur wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her close. His face buried in her neck, and he exhaled deeply, the storm outside no match for the one inside him.

“Will ya sing that lullaby for me?” His voice was so quiet, she almost didn’t catch it over the wind.

Kate smiled softly, her hands roaming his back in slow, soothing circles. “Of course, my sweetness.”

Her voice rose again, carrying him into a moment of peace he didn’t deserve, but one he’d hold onto for as long as she’d let him.

AN: Alright, I know this chapter was a lot to take in—definitely dropped a few big reveals! I hope it wasn’t too overwhelming or gave anyone whiplash. I'm starting to transition the story into "phase 2," so things will be picking up pace from here. That means we’ll be skipping over some of the game missions to keep things moving and eventually work toward wrapping up the fic. The scope of this game is massive, and I’ve been going back and forth on which details and missions to include, all while trying to put my own spin on the story. That said, I hope this chapter has set the stage for some exciting new plot developments that you’ll enjoy!

I made a playlist too if anyone is interested! Spotify Playlist

As always, thank ya kindly for reading :)

[kodydrs]

Sunflower Juice - Sabo

a/n: title has nothing to do with the story. sabo just reminds me of Sunflowers. I am incredibly out of practice when it comes to writing smut, and the ending is lowkey shit bc i kept reading it in my ex’s voice 😭

ib: this prompt from Portgas.D•Xiao’s on on Chai. “sabo just finished drinking with his friend, after he drank some alcoholic water he started to get drunk, then he wanted to go to his room and he saw you in the hallway And he started coming closer to you and hug you from behind.

warnings : fxm, sabo x fem reader, mdni, drunk sex, slight oral (f. recieving), vaginal fingering, p in v, hickies, (a lot of) pet names, you dated ace b4 his d3ath, reader is still kinda grieving ace’s death, she’s a bipolar abt her emotions as i am (it’s not funny guys, i’m actually bipolar), no use of y/n, not proofread, i’m bad at tagging

You flinch at the sudden attack.

‘ahh!’

It takes you a minute to realise who has just latched themselves onto you.

‘oh Sabo. it’s just you.’

You’d known Sabo for a little while. Ever since Ace’s death, you’d travelled with Luffy and the Straw Hats, and you’d met Sabo along the way. You wouldn’t say you’re exactly the closest of friends, but you both respected each other. But you did you best to keep a healthy distance because damn did he remind you of Ace.

‘Yeah. It’s just me. What are you doing here?’ You're not supposed to be alone right now.’ You felt his grip tightens around your waist slightly as he looks down at you. ‘Are you okay? Do you need anything?’

You turn to face him, confusion obvious on your face. But upon breathing in, you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

‘Sabo. Are you drunk?’ It’s more of a rhetorical question. It’s clear from how thick his breath feels. He wobbles a little to really upkeep the act.

‘Mmmm. Yeah. Maybe just a little bit.’ He pauses. ‘But I’m drunk with you so it’s fine.’

You go to say something to him, but you stop, deeming it useless.

‘Let’s just get you back to your room.’

He grumbles, audibly in decline of your offer.

‘But I don’t wanna go back to my room. I wanna spend more time with you.’

You can feel his arms trying to pull you closer to him like you aren’t already pressed tightly to him. He seems to give up on his efforts by resting his head on your neck and you can again smell the alcohol, reminding you of his drunk state. You groan.

Your plan for the night had been to hang out with Namu & Robin, but Nami got swept away by the Straw Hats stupid chef and Robin got distracted by Chopper's constant tangents. This left you sitting alone at a table with nothing but your thoughts. Your thoughts about how lonely you’d become since joining the Straw Hats. Now all you wanted to do was get to bed and sleep.

‘Sabo. Can you please just go to your room? I’m not in the mood for socialising right now.’ He pouts, nuzzling against your skin.

‘Don’t leave me all alone out here, please.’ He grabs your hands gently and place them on your stomach, holding them there. With a final long sigh, you give up.

‘Fine.’ He lets out a happy chuckle and spins you around, kissing you deeply on the lips for a few seconds before pulling away.

‘Yay!!’ He shrieks. He leans forward and hugs you tight once more, squeezing you so hard you can barely breathe.

You stand frozen in time, stunned by his actions.

‘S-Sabo??!’ He looks down at you with a confused look.

‘Yes. What is it? Are you hurt? Did I do somethi-‘ You cut him off by smashing your lips together, grasping his face tightly. He responds back with equal force and passion. Before you know it, his hands are everywhere. They’re gripping your hair, holding you hips, pressed to your spine.

You pull away, gasping for air. Letting it set in, you touch your lips. ‘Holy fuck.’ You think. ‘I just kissed my boyfriends brother.’

He looks down at you, not processing what the situation they’re really in is.

‘Hey. Why’d you stop? What’s wrong?’ You should protest, but you’re honestly too pent up to care right now.

‘Ah fuck it.’ Without resistance, you grabbed him by the collar and dragged him down the hallway to his room. You locked the door behind you and pinned him to it, crashing you lips back against each others.

The way you're kissing him makes him forget everything else around them. All he wants right now is to make love to you.

‘Oh god.’ He moans softly while wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing himself harder against you. You hum at his hand placement, getting intoxicated on the taste of his lips. He’s been drinking sunflower juice. His abdomen tensed as you ran your fingers along the divots in his abs. His excitement is evident in the way his hips bucked against you and you fail to push backs grin, grinding against his pelvis.

‘I want you so badly.’ He whispers in your ear.

‘Then take me.’ He pulls back, smug face as he looks down at you.

‘Yeah?’

Your voice is breathy and sweet, filled with the sudden need to be touched you’ve so desperately missed.

‘…yeah.’ He smirks mischievously and leans forward, placing one hand behind your neck and pulling you close enough that your noses touch.

‘Tell me what you want baby.’ He growls lowly into your ear, not breaking eye contact even though he's drunk as hell. Your mouth gapes at how hot he sounds right now.

‘oh fuck’ You whisper. ‘I want you to touch me, Sabo.’

With a sly smile on his lips, he brings his hand down and runs it down your arm, stopping at your hand and interlocking your fingers with his. He then brings your joined hands up to his chest, where he kisses them both.

‘Any particular way?’

Your voice is sickeningly sweet, and your words drip like honey.

‘Like you want me.’

His eyes light up in hunger and he once again slides his hand down to your hip, feeling every curve of your body.

‘Like I want ya, huh?’ He leans in to you, gently pressing his lips against your neck. ‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’ He takes your wrists and wraps them around his neck before hoisting you up like you weight nothing so your thighs also wrap around him. You pepper his neck with kisses as he brings you over to his bed and lays you down, straddling your hips.

You gasp as you watch him strip off his shirt and coat, revealing the chiselled abdomen you’d been tracing earlier. He laughs at your reaction before leaning back down and reconnecting your lips. Your hands move to his hair, tugging at the base of his scalp. He doesn’t break the kiss as he lifts your shirt to reveal your perk breasts. Instead, he runs his tongue along your teeth and sucks on your lower lip, basking in the heat radiating from your bodies. It’s driving him crazy.

He kisses down your neck into the valley between your breasts, massaging them gently. Your hands continue to tug at his hair, soft whimpers going straight to his dick.

You groan as he continues his journey down your stomach to the waistband of your pants, where he stops and looks up at you for approval.

‘Please.’ He grin. You nod. ‘Alright then.’ He slowly pulls them down, revealing your soaked panties.

‘So pretty.’ He cooes, kissing dangerously close to your core. He shimmies you out of your pants and then pushes aside your panties, tracing teasing circles around your clit with this tongue. Your thighs instinctively try to close around his head, but he pins them apart, not letting them interrupt his meal.

‘Be a good girl, baby. Good girls get good things.’ You can feel yourself melt under his touch. You’re embarrassed from how easily your legs are shaking due to being so touch starved, but you can’t really focus on that right now.

Your back arches as 2 fingers are inserted into your cunt, stretching you. And it takes everything to not cum right there and then.

‘You alright there, babygirl?’ Sabo laughs, hooking an arm around your thigh and nipping at the skin. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, breathing deeply.

‘I just haven’t had sex in a while.’

‘We’ll take it slow. I wanna make this last.’ Slowly, his fingers pump in and out, letting you ease around them while he continues to kiss and nibble on your thighs, leaving little pink and purple marks that you’ll find in the morning. After a few minutes, he adds a third digit, watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t hurting you in any way. Your heads tilted to the side and you make eye contact, the lustful gaze drawing you in. He smiles and kissed back up your body to your neck.

‘Are you ready for me? Or do you wanna wait a little longer?’ You wrap your arms back around his neck, pulling him down into a chaste kiss.

‘I’m ready.’ You whisper, pressing your foreheads together. ‘But please don’t be harsh.’

He nods and kisses you deep but slowly as he pulls his fingers from your cunt. You hear the rustle of clothes from him removing his pants and boxers before feeling his tip graze your entrance.

‘Do you want a countdown?’ He teases, grinning at his own joke. You smile, hitting his shoulder and murmuring a quiet “asshole”. He slowly pushes himself past your entrance to your warm insides, revealing in the intense heat.

‘Shit.’ He curses against your lips. ‘Damn, you feel amazing.’ You try to reply, but all that comes out is a moan. ‘Are you ok? Can I move?’

You hum, already leaving scratches on his back from blunt nails. He carefully starts to move, burying himself deeper with each thrust and it drives you insane. It isn’t long before you feel your stomach twist into knots.

‘S-Sabo… gonna cum.’ You whimper, nuzzling into his neck.

‘Already, baby? Can you hold on for a little so we can do it together?’ He gets a babble for a reply, mixed with a harsh kiss to his jaw. ‘Good girl. You’re taking me so well, baby.’ He brings one hand to your face, gently stroking your face. He touch is comforting, and you feel him pick up his pace so you get to finish as soon as you want.

‘Fuck.’ He mumbled under his breath. ‘Shit. Do you want me to pull out or no?’

‘I-I don’t mind. Whichever you prefer.’ You babble. He nods.

‘I’ll come inside then, if that’s ok with you.’

A hum seals you fate as you feel yourself tip over the edge, quickly followed by feeling your insides filled to the brim. Your back arches at a ridiculous angle, pressing your chests together. Sabo rails you through your orgasm until you're a choked-up, panting mess. Not that he’s any different. He pulls out with a grunt and flops next to you, taking a minute to collect his breath before he stands to grab something to clean you both up.

In the few minutes you’re left alone, you want to cry. The way his touch felt on you felt so familiar and so comfortable, and the knowledge it was all caused by a drunk haze made you wanna cry. Tears collected on your lower lashes as you did your best not to let them spill.

‘Hey.’ Sabo cooes, leaning down beside you while he cleans up your legs. ‘What’s wrong, hun? Why are you crying?’

You shake your head, covering your face.

‘I’m not. It’s nothing. It’s just-‘ You stop, looking away from his gaze. ‘I miss him like freaking crazy, Sabo.’

The blond smiles, putting aside his cleaning supplies and lying next to you.

‘Same. Everyday.’ For a moment, it feels as if this isn’t a drunk conversation, but instead 2 people bonding through grief. You roll so you’re facing him, forehead pressed against his chest. ‘But I do wanna be able to protect you like he did.’

One of his hands strokes your hair gently, carefully tugging out any tangles. You’ve stopped crying, just listening to the quiet thump of your heartbeats.

‘Sabo?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I wanna learn to love you, the same way I loved him.’

A soft hum comes from above you and you feel his lips press against your temple. His arms wrap around you gently, keeping you warm.

‘Ok.’

©kodydrs

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated

[demons-i-get]

We all know Dean raised Sam. This is something we agree on, right? We also all agree that Sam's first word was 'Dean' or some variation of it in an attempt to say 'Dean', yeah?

Please consider for me: Sam, a tiny, small child, a little baby, an adorable little bean. He calls Dean 'dede' the same way little kids still learning to talk call their parents 'mama' and 'dada'. As he gets a little older, 'dede' becomes 'De'.

In kindergarten when the other kids are talking about doing things with Mommy and Daddy, Sam talks about how De takes care of him because Dad is always really busy but it's okay because De is the best and plays all kinds of fun games with him. All the other kids are like, 'but what about your mommy?' and Sammy doesn't have a mommy, or even remember what having a mommy was like, and the other kids are just devastated by this because 'my mommy is the bestest' and 'mommies take care of you, so who takes care of you if you don't have a mommy?' and Sammy gets all belligerent in that five/six-year-old-way and insists that he doesn't need a mommy because he has a De and De takes the bestest care of him.

Even after they get older and Sam only calls his brother 'Dean', he'll still revert to calling him 'De' when he's really tired, hurt, sick, scared, or drugged up on painkillers lmao.

When he was in second grade, Sam fell off the monkey bars during recess, sprained his ankle, and scraped his knees up pretty bad. He wailed and cried and called for 'De' while the teachers and the school nurse tried to help him and they couldn't figure out who to call because John wasn't answering his phone when all of a sudden another, slightly older, child appeared out of fucking nowhere, swept a blubbering little Sammy into his arms, and calmed him right down. The teachers and nurses are confused as hell because one: where did this other child even come from, two: Sam wouldn't let anyone near him and would start screaming if someone tried to touch him but this kid shows up and just immediately scoops him up and gets him to stop wailing, and three: seriously where did this other child come from??? He looked too old to be another second grader or even a third or fourth grader who had wandered outside at all the commotion. Turned out, he was a sixth grader on his way to lunch when he heard the commotion and came running. Apparently, this was the 'De' that Sam kept yelling for.

EVEN AS ADULTS Sam still does this!!!!! When he's nervous, Sam will reach out and grab the back of Dean's shirt/jacket/whatever (like we see him do in 'What Is and What Should Never Be' even if that was a djinn-induced hallucination) and say real softly, "De," which prompts Dean to take over and do all the talking and make himself big and loud and impossible to ignore until they can get out of the situation. Once they're in the clear, Dean will always check in with a, "You okay, Sammy?" and lays a grounding hand on Sam's shoulder until he gets a reply.

However, (because I'm a sucker for angst) Sam calls him 'De' for the first time since Dean came to him for help finding John when Dean's dying after he got electrocuted fighting the rawhead (s1ep12 Faith); it breaks Dean's ailing heart because Sammy hasn't called him that in almost five years and now Dean has to leave his little brother behind and it's gonna absolutely devastate him. Most of the whole time Dean's sick, Sam calls him De, and even after Roy heals him, he's De for like, another week while Sam hovers over him, terrified something's going to happen and take his big brother away from him.

TL;DR: Sam used to call Dean 'dede' (like 'dada'), called him 'De' as he got a little older, and still calls him 'De' in times of emotional turmoil/distress throughout their adult lives.

I have more thoughts about Sam calling Dean 'De' that are more sad/angsty/etc. but I wanted to keep this post mostly fluffy and cute so I'll probably reblog this with more thoughts at some point!

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 27

Summary: Negan and Y/N finish up with their supply run before something happens that leads to an explosion of emotions between the two of them.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Evie, Nathan, Laura, Simon, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/136254793

Notes: I'm sorry. There are still a handful of chapters after this one. But yeah. Thank you to those that still read this.

“I can’t believe we found a stash of twinkies in that office,” Negan spoke with a mouthful of the sweet treat that he had shoved into his mouth before starting to carry the supplies they found in the bar together to the car. “These things literally taste exactly the same no matter when you have them.”

“I don’t think that’s a good thing,” Y/N suggested, putting what she had grabbed into the car while Negan struggled to carry what he had. Helping him out, she let out an amused sound at the sight of the cream that Negan had over his face. “It’s all over your face.”

“Funny, I could have said the same thing to you a few minutes ago,” Negan snorted, a groan releasing from his throat when she hit him in the center of the chest. “What?”

“You’re not funny,” she swept her thumb in over his bottom lip and Negan grabbed a tight hold of her wrist. Bringing her hand up, he took her finger between his lips to suck off the remainder of the twinkie that was there. “You’re going to be upset when you have a stomachache later from all the twinkies you ate.”

“See, this is where I could make a joke about my cum in your belly, but…” Negan joked when she shoved him away from her. An amused rumble of laughter fell from his throat when she rolled her eyes. “Hey, I appreciated you keeping it as close to our first time as possible. As much as I love filling your pussy with my cum, I still enjoy coming down your throat on occasion at times.”

“Enough,” she begged of him, her face turning red and her laughter faint. “I get it.”

“I don’t know what you’re embarrassed about. It’s not like anyone is here,” Negan responded, throwing his hands up in the air to point around the small town around them. “This place was abandoned a very long time ago.”

“One day you are going to talk like this in front of our children,” she suggested and Negan threw his hands up in the air.

“How many times did Evie almost walk in on the two of us having sex when we were younger?” Negan countered and she huffed out loudly. Stepping forward, he hooked his arms around her and she gave him a glare. “Oh come on. Sex is a perfectly natural thing between two people.”

“That’s really not something to be proud of with Evie,” she smirked, her head resting against the center of Negan’s chest when he pulled her closer to him. “Our kids have had to grow up so fast, we should still allow them the chance to be children for as long as possible.”

“Yes mama. Now let’s go see if we can find some toys,” Negan grumbled under his breath, pressing a long kiss at her temple before pulling back. Grabbing Lucille from the car, Negan returned and held his hand out to Y/N waiting for her to accept it. Giving her a cheesy smile had her smirking and shaking her head. Taking his hand, she felt his fingers curling tightly around hers before he led her in the direction of the store. Once they got there, he observed the store closely and sighed. Pushing open the doors, a disgusted breath fell from Negan’s throat at the smell. Waving his hand in the air after releasing her hand, he moved further in to hear the faint sounds of growling. Stopping Y/N from walking in, he motioned her to wait at the front by the doors. It wasn’t a big store. It was a split-level store and it wasn’t hard to move from one end to another. Approaching the back of the store, he noticed a door that led to the storage area and there was a window where you could look into the back room. Inside he could see a group of walkers. It wasn’t a surprise really. They had been lucky so far on this trip, it was only a matter of time before they found some. Moving quietly, Negan headed toward the door noticing that there was a lock on it. Tugging on it, he made sure that it was on there tightly so they would be safe. Part of him was glad it was locked because there looked to be a lot of them in there. Someone had to have gathered them up and got them in there somehow. A loud boom was heard behind him and Negan immediately spun on his heel raising Lucille up. Shaking his head, Negan saw Y/N giving an apologetic look behind him and she frowned. “You’re really good at listening.”

“I don’t like the idea of standing in the doorway,” she responded with a sigh when she moved over toward the window area to look inside. “I think you found the source of the smell.”

“Maybe some of it,” Negan lifted his head to look at the roof of the store. There was a hole in the ceiling and he noticed the water damage that was done to some of the areas. “I think it’s a mix of them and the wood rotting from water damage.”

A rattling sound made Y/N jump and Negan caught her when she almost stumbled over one of the shelves. It was the walkers taking notice of them being in the store, hitting at the door that was locked. There was a sense of worry in her eyes and Negan helped her stand up straight on her feet, “Don’t worry. They are locked tightly in there. I made sure.”

“Are you positive?” she spoke up and Negan gave her a nod. Wiggling his fingers at her, Negan grabbed her hand when she made her way around the store with him. Stopping, Negan lifted his head to stare up at the second level. Moving over toward the stairs, Negan let out an uncomfortable sound and shook his head. “What is it?”

“You can just see the water damage has done a number on this side of the building. Let’s focus on the stuff over here. I think I would break my ass if I even tried to climb those stairs,” Negan nodded over toward the other part of the store for them to go look at things, but she stopped him before they could. “What?”

Motioning him to wait, she headed toward the back of the store where there were multiple windows to look outside, “God, that’s beautiful.”

“I see something much more beautiful standing right beside me,” Negan flirted with an arrogant bob of his head. When he went to steal a kiss from her, she grabbed a firm hold of his jaw and forced him to look out the window. Through the fogged window Negan knew immediately what she was attracted to about the sight. Behind the store was a hill that overlooked the water. They were both always drawn to big bodies of water. Things were overgrown, but you could still see a nice sight of the water from the window. “Yes, that’s very, very beautiful. But I still think you are much prettier.”

“I’m not having sex with you in here with the walkers,” she informed him and he scoffed. “I’m serious.”

“I’m not asking for more sex. The beast needs his rest anyways. I need to get rehydrated when we get back to The Sanctuary,” Negan tugged at her hand having her follow him throughout the store. Picking up random things for their children, Negan realized that this store had more left in it likely because toys weren’t exactly that important during an apocalypse. A lot of the time, he saw Y/N gazing up at the second floor of the store, but Negan had stressed multiple times that he was uncomfortable. They agreed that the first floor was the safest both for them and for their children. At the store Negan realized he was going full on dad-mode wanting to pick up everything and anything that he thought Nathan and Evie would like. When he piled something else in his arms, it made Y/N snicker. “I think it’s important we get more interactive toys for Nathan. We need to get that boy talking more.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Y/N gazed over the pile of toys that were in Negan’s arms. “I think you think there is something wrong with him, but there isn’t. He’s just very quiet and he observes a lot of things.”

“Yeah, but Evie was talking so much more at his age,” Negan thought back on his daughter letting out a loud sigh. “I worry that maybe he’s not had a lot of time getting to be social or work on learning things. I just want him to be able to express himself better and learn.”

“Well, if it helps you thinking about things, we are going to be living on the farm together. That means you are going to have all the time in the world to work on things with him,” she reminded Negan, grabbing a hold of his arm when she almost tipped over. They probably drank way too much at the bar together, her more than him, but they were still managing. Leaning up, she pressed a loving kiss over Negan’s cheek and he leaned into it. “The difference between Evie and Nathan is that Evie was surrounded by so many people from the start. The two of us and Lucille were always playing with her. We never put her down. And we had your family to help us. Nathan has just really had me and Evie. I’ve done my best, but when we go to the farm, I’m sure with you helping he will start to open himself up further.”

“I hope so,” Negan confessed, biting down on his bottom lip. Adjusting the toys in his arms, he could see that Y/N was gazing over him and he snickered. “What?”

“Why don’t you go put that in the car?” she suggested, realizing that his arms were full and he was struggling. “I’ll just look for some more things for Evie. We have a lot of younger toys for Nathan, but she’s going to be needing some things for her.”

“I can do that, but I did grab some stuff for her,” Negan reminded her, dropping his head down knowing that they were in the mix of things somewhere. “Are you going to be okay alone?”

“I was alone for three years without you,” she countered with an amused expression over her face and Negan grunted. “I’m just saying. I managed those three years, I’ll be fine.”

“And you have the gun that I gave you?” Negan double checked with her. It led to her patting her side where she had the holster attached to her pants and he smiled. “Just be careful. I’ll be really quick.”

“Quick like a bunny,” she smacked his ass as he walked by leaving him to gasp and almost drop some of the items.

“Mama, you are drunk as hell,” Negan looked back at her over his shoulder seeing her smile. “I think you had too much of a good time at that bar.”

“I am not drunk. I’m perfectly fine,” she refused, throwing her hands up in the air to deflect the comment. “You want sex all the time and it’s fine, I smack your cute little ass and I’m drunk?”

“Uh huh,” Negan snorted, his nose wrinkling in amusement. “I’ll be back.”

Snickering to himself, Negan headed toward the front of the store. Nudging the door open with his side, he made his way over to the car and put all of the toys carefully away. If there was anything else in this town, he was going to have to send his Saviors back because the car was getting pretty full.

The sound of shuffling made Negan lift his head up and he half expected to see Y/N returning. When he saw nothing, he let out a grumble and closed the trunk. Looking around the area, everything seemed abandoned and he was starting to think it might have just been the wind knocking something about around him.

Making his way back to the store, Negan let out a tense sound when he realized that Y/N wasn’t where he had left her. Moving through the aisles, he felt his heart begin to race when he realized she wasn’t there, “Y/N! Where the fuck are you?”

“Daddy, calm down,” her voice beckoned him from above. Tipping his head back, Negan saw her looking over the side of the upper part of the split level. It had a lump growing in his throat realizing that she was amused with him getting upset. Her fingers were curled around the railing that was there and she threw her hand up to place her finger over her mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing up there?” Negan went to head over to the stairs, grumbling to himself when he stepped on the first one and heard it crumble beneath his feet. He managed to stop himself from falling, but he could feel his blood starting to boil. “Get back down here. You shouldn’t go anywhere I haven’t checked.”

“No one is up here Negan,” she assured him, leaning back to look both ways on the level she was on. “I was very careful making my way up here. I just saw that golden retriever stuffed animal over there and it reminded me of Darwin. After everything that Evie has been through, I thought I would just grab it for her. Maybe it would make her happy.”

“She has her Flounder at The Sanctuary,” Negan waved his fingers at her trying to beckon her to come back to him. With a huff, Negan managed to work his way up the steps and he could see that she was moving over toward the shelves that had the large stuffed animals on them. Once he reached the top, Negan’s foot went through one of the steps and he growled out. “Do you have a death wish? We both agreed that we weren’t going to come up here. I don’t know how you didn’t fall on your ass getting up these stairs. You could get really hurt. I told you the wood was rotted.”

“I just want our daughter happy. Flounder is her special stuffed animal with you,” she looked back at Negan who managed to pull himself up to his feet, his glare locking with her. “I want her to have something special from me.”

“She’s going to have Darwin’s collar when we get back to the farm,” Negan suggested moving a few steps further only to hear the sound of cracking beneath him. With big eyes, Negan looked beneath him to see that the floor was giving out. Before he could react, the sound of the wood splintering beneath his feet was heard. Trying to reach for anything, Negan failed horribly and felt the world sliding out from beneath him. Sinking through the floor that broke, Negan hit the first floor. With how hard he fell, it made a long gust of air fall from his lungs, but at the same time his luck just happened to be incredible. In the fall, he landed into a pile of bean bag chairs so while falling through the floor hurt, the actual landing wasn’t so bad. Groaning out, Negan dropped back his head from where he was into the bean bag chair beneath him. Through the hole that was in the floor, he could see that Y/N was looking down at him through it to make sure that he was okay. “If this isn’t a fucking sign to tell you to come back downstairs, I don’t know what is. As you can see, I’m fucking skinny and I just went right through the fucking floor.”

“I’m fine,” she declared, her hands resting on her knees when she let out a small laugh. “That was really dumb luck that you fell like that.”

“I still got cut,” Negan winced looking to his arm that had managed to get snagged underneath his jacket. There was blood at his wrist and he hissed out. Lucille had fallen beside him and he grabbed her. “This shit hurts Y/N. Just fucking come back down before you get hurt. If you weren’t drunk, I think you would have never made this stupid fucking decision to begin with. It’s dumb bravery.”

“I’m not drunk,” she bickered with him, standing up straight with her face scrunching up. “You’re the one that fell. Not me.”

The sounds of knocking grew louder, drawing Negan’s attention to the walkers that were locked up in the back room of the store. Brushing himself off, Negan groaned out at the tension he was feeling in his back when he stood. Moving back, he observed the area that the stuffed animal she was intent on getting was.

“Y/N, come on,” Negan tried to persuade her back down the stairs as he brushed the wood and the splinters from his body. “I’m not comfortable with this. The stuffed animal is over the back room where the walkers are. I’m not okay with this.”

“I’ll be quick,” she insisted drawing Negan to let out a tense breath when he watched from where he was standing. Walking around certain areas, Y/N stood before the shelf that she wanted. There was a struggle to grab the stuffed animal since she was a little too short. Stepping up on the bottom shelf, she managed to get up higher and grabbed the leg of the giant stuffed animal. “Evie is going to love this. Darwin used to always sleep with her at night. So it will be like having Darwin with her again. It looks just like him too.”

“Great. Wonderful. Grab the stuffed animal and let’s go,” Negan suggested, waving his hand about in attempt to get her moving. “I want to head home.”

“I’m coming,” she announced holding out the stuffed animal to show Negan that she managed to get it. “See, I’m not like you. I’m not about to fall through a floor because I put fifty extra pounds on my body with that leather jacket that you…”

The sound of cracking was heard and Negan felt his heart skip a beat. The shelf that Y/N had been holding onto snapped. Managing to grab another one just in time, Y/N’s face went pale when she nodded her head about.

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m coming down right now,” she announced going to move her foot only for a cracking sound to echo throughout the store. The shelves she was balancing her weight on splintered beneath her weight. Falling backwards, Y/N tried to reach for the other shelves that were before her, but they managed to snap off the wall when she grabbed them.

“Y/N!” Negan yelled out hearing the same crashing sound he did earlier when he fell through the floor. A loud thud echoed and through the window that looked into the back room, Negan saw that she had hit the cement floor hard. From the sound she made when she hit the floor, Negan didn’t know if she was unconscious or incredibly hurt, but he knew that she was locked in there with the walkers. Scrambling forward Negan could tell that her fall had started to attract the walkers. “Y/N!”

She wasn’t answering. Hell, she wasn’t moving. Punching out the window, Negan didn’t care if he got cut. He was doing everything to try to pull his body through that small window, but he realized that no matter how hard he tried he wasn’t going to make it through. Cussing out, he felt his panic start to flare up with the walkers starting to make their way over to her. Roaring out, Negan grabbed his gun and aimed at the walkers shooting over and over again. Unloading his gun, Negan managed to kill only a few of them.

“Fuck!” Negan ran around toward the door that was locked. Trying to pull at the lock, Negan let out a groan of frustration when he heard shuffling in the back room. “Y/N!”

“Negan!” she called out to him and he heard gun shots starting to go off. Over and over again, Negan slammed his shoulder into the door trying to break it down. With each hit he could feel the wood from the door giving away. Starting to kick at the door had the wood splintering until he was able to kick a big enough hole for him to fit through. Once he made it in the room, Negan used Lucille on the remainder of the walkers that were in his way. Stumbling through them, Negan’s attention was brought to a door that led outside that had been forced open. Blood was all over the floor, but he knew that a lot of it was from the walkers that were fresher. Y/N had killed quite a few on her own.

“Y/N!” Negan screamed out once he got outside finding a few of the walkers with gunshot wounds to their heads laying face first in the grass. There was no sight of Y/N and he felt his heart start to hammer inside of his chest. Panic began to eat away at him as he called out to her again with no response. In the distance he heard movement and saw a walker that looked like it had its legs shot out. Moving up to it, Negan brought the bat down over its head hearing the squashing sound that came with it. “Y/N!”

Looking ahead of him, Negan saw at the top of the hill it looked like Y/N was sitting on the edge of it. Scrambling up, Negan felt like the world was spinning around him.

“Fuck Y/N! You scared the shit outta me,” Negan announced when he saw her sitting on the hill that overlooked the water. The stuffed animal that she had gone for was sitting at her left side and her arm was wrapped around it. Her gun was in her right hand with her just staring out at the water. “Why the fuck didn’t you respond? I was scared shitless that something fucking happened to you.”

Once again, she didn’t say a thing and Negan cleared his throat. Instead, she just lowered her head and Negan gazed her over. Noticing that there was blood on her right hand, Negan lowered down and tipped his head to the side. Setting the gun down beside her, Y/N grabbed the stuffed animal in her arms and squeezed it in closer to her. Seeing her hug the stuffed animal like that confused him. Once she set it aside, Negan looked to her hand realizing that the blood was likely from her killing the walkers.

“I told you that you shouldn’t have fucking gone for that stuffed animal,” Negan lowered down beside her, his body moving in next to hers so he could join her sitting near the area that overlooked the water below. “That had to knock the fucking wind out of you. You hit the ground hard.”

Sighing loudly, Y/N tipped her head back with her eyes slamming shut. There was a cut at her temple and Negan reached out to swipe his finger over it, “You probably have a concussion with that fall. And some fucking splinters. We should get you back to The Sanctuary to get you looked at.”

Gradually Y/N’s eyes open and she unhurriedly turned her head to stare out at him. The way she was looking at him made him feel uncomfortable. Reaching out, he placed his hand in over hers and gave it a firm squeeze.

“Y/N?” Negan repeated her name, his eyes narrowing in uncertainty with his eyebrows bouncing up. “What’s going on?”

“Just be quiet. For a minute,” she begged of him looking toward the water again. Eyeing her over, Negan didn’t know how to respond as she took time to stare out at the nature before her.

“What are you doing?” Negan questioned, his thick eyebrows furrowing as he tried to determine what was going on. “You shouldn’t have taken off like you did. You’re lucky something worse didn’t happen to you. I told you that going up there was stupid,” Negan continued to lecture her and it seemed to just fall upon deaf ears. “Y/N?”

“I was just thinking about things,” she disclosed, turning her head back to look at him. This time it made a breath catch in his throat when he saw that she had tears in her eyes.

“About what?” Negan stammered, shrugging his shoulders. Instead of waiting here, they should have been moving, but she was insistent upon sitting there. “Is your leg hurt? Do you need me to carry you back? Is it your back?”

“I can still walk Negan,” she frowned, reaching up with her clean hand to wipe at her face with the back of her hand. “I was thinking about my life again. The what ifs.”

“Why are you doing that again?” Negan scoffed, his chest tightening when she brought up the very same thing she had done in the bar. “I thought we had talked about that in the bar. Why think about that shit when there is nothing you can do to change things? We should really talk about this when we get back to The Sanctuary because the sun is going to start setting soon and…”

“I was wondering what life would have been like if I would have just said thank you instead of inviting you back into the bar,” she spoke louder than him, causing his words to come to an immediate halt. It made his jaw flex and the vein at the side of his neck bulge. A broken breath fell from her throat when she tipped her head side to side and looked back at the water again. “Would my life have been better if I would have never brought you into it? What if I would have just thanked you and sent you on your way?”

“Why the fuck are you thinking like that?” Negan choked out, stumbling through his words when anxiety flooded his veins. That was a really weird thing to hear her say after they had just gotten married and they had their previous talk. “I think no matter what, the two of us would have gotten together. I think we were soul mates. Destiny would have brought us together no matter what.”

“Would we? Because I was planning on leaving this fucking place,” she snapped at Negan, her fingers curling into fists in her lap. “I hate it here so much. It was nothing but painful memories and loneliness. Maybe if I would have just thanked you and we parted ways, I could have finished school and gone to London. Things could have probably been so much better there. I could have made it to the top of the business like I planned on. I could have had an incredible apartment in the city. Fuck, I had money, but if I would have taken that path I could have been insanely rich. That’s what I had been being built up for. I could have been an incredibly powerful woman. I probably could have had enough fucking money to live in that apartment forever with all the resources I could have.”

“I don’t understand,” Negan responded, his fingers hooking with hers again to give them a tight squeeze. “Why are you talking like that? I thought all you ever wanted was to be married to me. We’re finally married. We have two beautiful children…”

“We do,” she agreed with Negan, nodding slowly when she let out a shuddering breath. There was a single tear sliding down her face when she looked to him again. “I should have never forced you to marry me. I know it was something you never truly wanted.”

“That’s fucking silly. Of course I wanted to be married to you,” Negan leaned forward to press a loving kiss against the side of her face. “That’s why we’re married Y/N. It’s what we’ve wanted this whole time.”

“We both know you have always preferred Lucille,” she let out a tremoring breath showing that the sadness had flooded her features again. “I know that given the chance, you would switch Lucille with me in an instant. If you could hit a button, you would have picked for me to die and Lucille be in my place.”

“I wouldn’t,” Negan denied with her tugging her hand out of his and he let out a frustrated sound. “I always loved both you and Lucille.”

“But you loved Lucille more,” she reminded him with an overwhelmed breath. Outstretching her arm, she reached for the stuffed animal she had grabbed for Evie. Taking a final look at it, she held it out to Negan who tipped his head to the side. He didn’t know what to do with her giving him the stuffed animal. “Take it Negan.”

Accepting the stuffed animal, he set it beside him and reached out to pinch at the bridge of his nose, “I think we need to go home Y/N. Let’s get this stupid dog back into the car and at The Sanctuary we can talk about whatever the hell you want. We can go over the same things we have talked about so many times before if it makes you feel better,” Negan reached for her hand to try to get her to move, but she refused. “Listen, okay? I know I’ve upset you. But whatever I did in the past, it doesn’t matter anymore because right now we have two children waiting for us back at The Sanctuary. Yes, I loved Lucille, but I always loved you Y/N. I did. I do. And you mean everything to me. I’m giving up this life for you because I love you. We’re going to start over.”

Silence. Nothing was said. Except he heard her start to cry.

“We can talk about whatever you want when we get back Y/N,” Negan tried to offer a weak smile, his voice softening. “We just have to get back home to our babies before the sun falls. Come on.”

Reaching his left hand out, his fingers hooked with hers and he felt them squeezing tightly to his. Going to urge her to get up, Negan felt her tense when he tried to get her to stand up with him, “What are you doing?”

“I’m not going anywhere Negan,” she informed him, letting out a shuddering breath with him tipping his head to the side. Standing up, Negan tried to pull her to him but she remained still with her fingers hooked firmly around his.

“Come on,” Negan shook his head watching her tearful eyes connect with his. Reaching up with her free hand, she tugged at her shirt to reveal the wound that was over her shoulder near her neck. A frightened gasp fell from Negan’s throat when he released her hand, stumbling back. “Y/N…”

“My luck was bound to stop at some point,” she announced with a broken tone as Negan lowered down to his knees. His eyes were tearing over as she shook her head and let out a nervous laugh. “I should have just listened to you and left the damn stuffed animal. But I wanted to make Evie happy. I wanted her to have something special from me.”

Refusing to believe that she was actually bitten, Negan crawled forward toward her. Hooking his fingers into her shirt, he pulled the material down to observe the wound. Looking closely, he tried to make out the shape of it and he felt his throat tensing up. Shaking his head, his breathing became uneven when he traced his finger over the wound, “It doesn’t look like a bite. It looks like it could have happened in the fall. You didn’t get bit…”

“Negan,” she spoke quietly, her eyes full of remorse. “Come on.”

“No, no. It’s not a fucking bite,” Negan snapped at her, trying to get a better look at it, but she pushed him away from her with a grunt. Pushing the sleeve up on his jacket, Negan showed her the wound that he got from falling through the floor. “Look at my arm from falling through the floor. You fell back, shoulders first. It could be a wound that you got from the broken wood Y/N. You don’t know if that’s a fucking bite.”

“Negan, stop it!” she demanded noticing that the color completely drained from his face. “We both know I’m not going back to The Sanctuary. You and I both know that’s a bite. They took a good chunk out of me, but it’s a bite.”

“No. We’ll take you back. I’ll have the doctor look you over. There is something that he has to be able to do even if it is a bite,” Negan reasoned with her trying to reach out to grab her arm, but she refused to move when he let out a pained noise. “You need to get up Y/N. The quicker we get you there, the better it is. We’ll get you seen and…”

“Negan! I’m not going!” she yelled at him hearing a whimper falling from his throat. “I’m not going to allow you to take me back there and turn. I’m not going to put Evie and Nathan’s lives on the line just because the two of us can’t come to fucking terms with what is going on here.”

“This can’t be happening,” Negan dropped back on his knees, his whole body shaking. Y/N lowered her head and he dragged his hands down over the front of his face. “This isn’t fair. We just got married. Everything was going right. That’s not…it’s not fucking fair.”

“Life isn’t fair Negan,” she half laughed, a disappointed breath falling from her throat. “No one understands that more than me.”

“No. No, please,” Negan refused to let this go on when he tried to get her to look at him. “Come on. We’ll go back to The Sanctuary. Put someone on the door just in case, but I know you will realize that this was just something that happened with the fall. You can’t just give up and accept that this is how it is going to be.”

A saddened exhale fell from his throat when Y/N reached for the gun that she had set aside and he placed his hand over hers to keep her from bringing the gun up, “I don’t remember the exact timeline of infection rate. But if I remember correctly, a bite on the shoulder is anywhere from two to six hours. It’s also incredibly close to my neck, so I imagine it’s going to be even less than that.”

“Even if you are infected, your children deserve to say goodbye,” Negan stressed, getting her to set the gun down for now and she let out a tremoring whimper. “Please get up. Let’s go home. Evie and Nathan will want to see you.”

“Negan, there is a chance if I go back to The Sanctuary with you, I’ll turn,” she explained through her tears leaving Negan with an incredible ache at the center of his chest. “I can turn on the drive back and I could bite you. If that happens, there is a chance that our children lose both of their parents and they are left with strangers who are not capable of taking care of them because they don’t love them. Maybe I make it back to The Sanctuary, I do get to say goodbye, but what if I turn when I hug them? What if I bite one of our children? I can’t live with the idea of that Negan. I can’t.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” Negan was devastated and at a complete loss. “I’ll sit here with you. We can wait out the two hours together. I’ll stay for the six. We can do that. I’ll stay with you.”

“I want you to go back to The Sanctuary,” she stressed to Negan, her voice raspy from her crying. Immediately Negan shook his head and she let out a frustrated sound. “Goddamn it Negan, just listen to me.”

“No, I won’t leave you here alone,” Negan insisted with an angered breath. “I can’t do that.”

“Can you really stand to see me turn into one of them?” she questioned, her words hard to get out through her crying. “Do you really want to sit here and watch me turn into one of them like you did Lucille? It still destroys you to this day Negan what you had to see with Lucille. I don’t…I don’t want that to be the last thing you think of when you are with me. I want you to picture me smiling.”

“I’m not going to abandon you like I did last time,” Negan asserted himself, his arms throwing down at his sides in defeat.

“If you love me Negan,” she began and he immediately cut her off by throwing his hands up in the air.

“I do love you which is why I’m saying this,” he fought with her hearing her cries continue when he threw his hand back toward the car. “I’m not giving up on you Y/N. I abandoned you when you needed me the most. We’re going to start our life together. That’s what we said. At the end of this week, we’re going to the farm and…”

“You have to let go of that Negan,” she shook her head, her hand placing in over the center of her chest. “I want you to go to that farm. Take Nathan and Evie. Be their father like you were always meant to be. Still go to the farm and show those kids the love they were meant to have. With you. I just…I won’t be part of that dream anymore.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” Negan shook his head, biting down on his lip trying not to have an absolute meltdown right now. “It was all of us.”

“Promise me you will take the children to the farm,” she begged of him and Negan immediately shook his head. “Goddamn it Negan, I’m fucking dying. Just do this last thing for me. It’s my dying fucking wish so stop being so fucking stubborn. If you don’t want to let me down, you take your son and your daughter to that farm. You get away from The Sanctuary because that is no place for them to be raised. You be their dad. You take care of them. You raise them right and you make them happy. I’m begging you. Please.”

Sobs were falling from Negan, his head burying in his hands when he just completely started to break down before her, “Please Negan. I need to know that you will do this for me. Promise me.”

“I can’t,” Negan whimpered with her tugging at his wrist to try to get him to look at her, but his body was rocking back and forth. When she managed to get one of his hands away from his face, his face was red and tear stained. “Please just get up.”

“If you ever really loved me Negan, I want you to promise me that you will take care of those kids and give them the life that they deserve,” she stressed to Negan, wiping at her own face to try to swipe her tears away. “Please.”

“I…” Negan felt her grabbing a firm hold of his arms to get him to look at her. “I promise.”

“Good, now you need to get up and you need to go to them,” she instructed him with a nod of her head looking to the gun that she had set down. Staring down at it, she let out a tremoring breath and shook her head. “I really don’t want to become one of those things.”

“Just let me sit here with you,” Negan pled of her, cupping her face in his hands while she cried. Negan was shaking and she reached her hand up to place it over his.

“I don’t think I have it in me to kill myself,” she informed him with a nervous breath looking down at the gun. After a minute, she raised her head and it took her breath away. She’d never seen Negan cry like this before. “And I doubt you have it in you to kill me.”

“Stop, just stop,” Negan begged going to reach for the gun, but she pulled it back away from him. “You’re not going to kill yourself. You can’t do that.”

“I don’t feel good Negan,” she informed him looking to her shoulder to see that the blood was seeping into her shirt. “I don’t want to turn into one of those things. I could hurt someone. I could hurt a child. I could hurt you and I love you.”

Looking toward the water again, Y/N placed the gun up to her temple and Negan held his hands out, “Please. Please don’t do that. Don’t…”

“It’s a beautiful view Negan. At least it would be something good to go out to,” she reasoned with him hearing his cries continue. “You’re not going to leave and you need a reason to. I also don’t want to be one of those monsters either. I can’t let myself turn.”

A stressed sound fell from Y/N’s throat when her finger hovered over the trigger. Desperately Negan thought of the first thing that popped into his head before yelling it out, “I think about you every time I get a headache!”

Confusion flooded Y/N’s features when she lowered the gun and looked to Negan, “Whenever I had a headache, I would always think about you. You would always take me in your arms and you would rub at my temples. It would either put me to sleep or relieve the tension because every fucking time you did it the headache would go away. And then I would wake up in your arms and know that the person that I loved was taking care of me. When I was with Lucille, I refused to take pain medicine for it when I’d have a headache because I wanted to torture myself for the things I did to you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she half laughed her head shaking when Negan threw his hands up in the air. At least it drew the gun away from her head as he continued to speak to her. “Why did you tell me that?”

“Because we were talking about things that made us happy. That always made me happy,” Negan explained, his voice breaking the further he continued to recall their past together. “One of my fondest memories that makes me happy every single time is when you and I took Evie to the aquarium together. With us just sitting on the bench with one another with her running back and forth. God, with those adorable little fucking feet. You laid your head on my shoulder and that was when life felt like it should have. I loved Lucille. I loved Lucille so fucking much, but when I think back on my life and the times where I felt like everything was as it should be…it was always when I was with you and Evie. When our daughter was just cuddled up between the two of us.”

“I know what you’re doing,” she pointed out, her words coming out sad with her bottom lip trembling as Negan continued to ramble.

“You want more confessions? I wish I never covered up the compass,” Negan pointed to his arm where he knew the tattoo that he had covered up in the past was. “The day I got it covered, I went outside and I cried all night long. I was so angry at myself for covering it up, but the only reason I covered it up was because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I thought I would stop loving you so fucking much if I just covered the thing, but it didn’t work. It shattered my heart into a million fucking pieces.”

Outstretching his hand, Negan placed his hand in over hers hearing her faint cries falling from her throat, “And if I could relive one single moment in my life over and over again, it would be the day that you told me you were pregnant with Evie. Fuck, I can picture it perfectly in my head right now. What you were dressed in, the way that you looked…”

Grabbing the gun from Y/N’s hand, Negan slid in closer to her feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt flooding his body. This was his fault that she got hurt. If he wouldn’t have turned the damn car around they would have never been in this fucking position to begin with.

“It’s the last thing I’d want to picture if I knew that my life was coming to an end,” Negan allowed her to fall into his arms while he held onto her. “What would yours be?”

“The day Evie was born,” she wasted no time in answering, her head resting against the center of his chest hearing his heartbeat hammering beneath her head. “The moment that they placed her in my arms and she smiled at me…”

“Close your eyes,” Negan whimpered, adjusting his positioning as he grabbed a better hold of the gun. Using his free hand, he tipped her head back and brought her lips to his. The taste of their tears lingered over their lips when Negan parted from her. Placing the gun below her chin Negan heard her let out a long exhale. “I want you to picture that. Okay?”

“Okay,” her eyes slammed shut tightly with Negan’s breathing growing louder.

“I love you,” Negan felt her hand lifting up to press over his wrist in almost a supportive fashion. Hovering his finger over the trigger, Negan felt his body tremoring. Loud sobs were falling from his throat with his arm tensing up. With a roar, Negan pulled his arm back with the sound of the gun shot echoing around them. Dropping forward, Negan buried his head into the ground with his cries stronger than they were before. Hitting at the ground over and over again, Negan cussed out to himself only to feel the warmth of Y/N’s arms hugging him tightly. “I can’t fucking do it. I can’t. I’m so sorry. I’m…”

“It’s okay,” she hushed him doing her best to calm him down while he cried in her arms. Nuzzling her nose in against the back of his neck, she pressed a faint kiss there and kept him in her arms until he calmed down. “Look at me.”

“I can’t do this Y/N. I can’t watch you sit here and kill yourself. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I can’t watch you do this,” Negan’s face was on fire with his head aching. His crying was hard when she brushed her fingers through his damp hair.

“You don’t have to. I won’t make you,” she hushed him with a kiss that lingered over his lips before he pulled away with a whimper. Leaning back, she reached for the wedding ring that Negan had given her and it made him let out a shuddering breath. “Give this to Evie, okay? I’d give her the bracelet, but I think I need it. I need you and her with me during this.”

“Please,” Negan begged, shaking his head refusing to believe this was how things were going to end. Y/N’s fingers were tracing over the bracelet that Negan had given her on her birthday all those years ago that had his initials and Evie’s on it. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can. And you will. Those children love you and you’re going to do a great job with them,” she sounded weaker with her eyes staring out into his. “I have the absolute most faith in you Negan. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Curling Negan’s fingers around the ring, she pushed the stuffed animal close to Negan and pointed back toward the car, “I need you to take those back to The Sanctuary. I want you to tell Evie that I love her. I will always love her. That she was the best thing in this life that I ever did and I never regretted a moment I spent with her. No matter how much the two of us fought.”

“You should be the one telling her this,” Negan reasoned with her and she let out a hurt breath. “Y/N?”

“When Nathan is old enough to understand, I want you to tell him he was my little miracle baby. The one that made it through with all the obstacles trying to stop him from coming into this world,” she hooked her fingers with Negan’s squeezing them tightly. “Don’t let either of them forget that I loved them. Okay?” Negan didn’t respond. His cries just grew louder and she let out a frustrated whine. “Negan? I need to hear you say okay.”

“Okay,” Negan tremored, his eyes aching from how hard he had been crying.

“And I want you to know, regardless of the what ifs,” she whispered pressing faint kisses over Negan’s face. “As stupid as I am, I wouldn’t change bringing you into my life. The moment you stepped into my life, you had a hold of my heart Negan. I have loved you from the first moment I met you and I will love you until my very last breath. As much as things hurt, nothing ever felt as good as it did when I truly, genuinely felt loved by you. I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Negan whispered against her lips when he kissed her again. “It’s not fair. It should be me. I would do anything for us to switch positions. This shouldn’t be you.”

“But we can’t change that now,” she stroked her thumb in over his bottom lip, the sadness of her eyes locking with his. “If there is such a thing as the afterlife, I’m pretty sure Lucille is going to be there waiting for me. And she’s going to take care of me. So you don’t have to worry, okay?”

“Fuck,” Negan’s heart broke hearing that while Y/N continued to speak.

“And we’re going to watch over you and the kids. I promise,” she stroked her hands down over the sides of Negan’s face hearing his cries growing louder. “I’ll let her know how much you loved her. How much you miss her and how sorry you are.”

Lowering his head, Negan could tell that she was putting on a brave face when she gave him a firm nod with her trying to comfort him, “I’m going to need you to get up. Grab that stuffed animal and Lucille. I need you to get in the car and I need you to drive to The Sanctuary. Once you leave, don’t turn back Negan. Don’t come back here. Do you understand?”

“This is wrong,” Negan breathlessly stammered with his words broken by his cries.

“But you have to be strong for me and the children,” she instructed him with one final kiss, urging him to get up. “I’m just going to sit here and wait for the sunset. Okay?”

Stumbling to his feet, Negan did what she asked of him grabbing Lucille and the stuffed animal she had grabbed for Evie, “Let her know that it was from me. Tell her the stuffed animal is named Darwin and that if she keeps that with her both Darwin and I will be with her forever. Can you do that for me?”

Nodding his head, Negan was having an incredibly hard time going the other way. Once he finally turned away from her to head back toward the car, he heard her calling out to him, “I love you Negan.”

“I love you too,” Negan whispered with a lump developing in his throat. “More than you will ever fucking know. I’ve always loved you.”

With that, Negan headed back toward the car like she asked of him. Starting to put away the things, Negan closed the trunk of the car and lowered his upper half over it counting to himself. Considering his options, he knew that he didn’t want to leave her there.

“Fuck this,” Negan started to move back toward the trees only for the sound of a gunshot to boom throughout the air. Falling to his knees, Negan felt his heart pounding in his chest now realizing why she told him to never come back. Everything went numb with his sobs growing louder at the thought of what just happened. Screaming out, Negan curled up and covered his head with his arms.

Who knows how long he stayed there until he finally pulled himself back up to his feet. Stumbling over toward the car, Negan dropped down into the driver’s seat and looked to the ring that was still between his fingers. Reaching for the necklace that he wore that had his and Lucille’s wedding ring on it, Negan added the ring to it before placing it back around his neck. Looking to his ring finger, Negan saw that his hands were shaking and he kept his eyes locked on the wedding band he had gotten for himself. With another roar, Negan started hitting the wheel of the car over and over again. Honk after honk filled the air until he finally gathered himself and started the car up just like he had promised Y/N he would do.

It felt like he was dead on the inside when he made his way back to The Sanctuary. When he did pull up, he drove into one of the loading docks and when he got out he could see that Simon was with Laura waiting for him.

“Where’s the wife?” Simon questioned, stepping forward to place his hand over Negan’s shoulder to draw his attention. Shoving firmly into Simon had him stumbling back and hitting the ground hard. Moving to the car, Negan pulled out Lucille and started his way back. “Listen, I don’t know…”

The sound of things shattering was heard when Negan started beating into the items that were lined up in the loading dock. Screaming through his anger and his pain, Negan was destroying everything in his sight leaving nothing but mayhem behind him.

“Boss man,” Simon tried to get up to move toward him, but Laura stopped him with a firm shake of her head and her hand pressed into Simon’s chest.

“He needs this,” she suggested with them standing there until finally Negan threw Lucille aside, the bat shattering a window in the car when he dropped down onto his knees. Another roar of a scream fell from his lips when Laura cautiously moved over to lower down beside Negan who started sobbing. Wrapping her arms around Negan it sounded like he was hyperventilating while he was breaking down. “It’s okay.”

“She’s gone,” Negan dropped onto his side, his face red and tear stained while his body rocked. “She’s gone. She’s gone.”

There was really no comforting Negan, but Laura was doing her best to help with him having an absolute break down before her. They had to let it run its course and it was a while before Negan stopped crying along with talking to himself. His back was pressed against the wall with his arms resting on his legs. Beside him Negan had thrown up with how hard he had been crying, but he looked severely broken.

“Negan,” Laura approached him with the large stuffed animal that she had gotten out of the car in her arms. “What do you want me to do with this.”

Staring up at Laura, Negan didn’t say a thing as he stood from the ground and grabbed the toy. Keeping the stuffed animal loosely hooked under his arm, Negan walked off into The Sanctuary. There were people staring at him from either hearing about his break down or learning through others about it, but no one dared to speak to him or fuck with him right now.

Making it up the steps, Negan walked to the room that he knew the children would be in. Stopping at the door, he closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. Pushing the door open, Negan stared out at the bed seeing that Evie was playing with Nathan and the nanny. Once Evie noticed that it was Negan that was there, she immediately got up from the bed and ran over to wrap her arms around him. Instead of hugging her back, Negan’s body was tense and he was just standing there.

“Daddy,” Nathan smiled clapping his hands together when he saw Negan.

“I’m gonna need you to take Nathan to my room and stay there with him, okay?” Negan asked of the woman he had watching his children. Evie’s arms were still locked around his waist with her head tipped back staring up at him confused.

“What’s this?” Evie asked when the woman made her way around Negan and into the hallway with Nathan who seemed like he wanted to be grabbed by Negan, but Negan didn’t take him. Realizing that she was looking to the stuffed dog, Negan lifted it up and held it toward her. Accepting the stuffed animal, Evie gave him a strange look. “Dad?”

“It’s for you,” Negan responded, dropping the dog down and moving into the room further. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Negan’s fingers dug into the comforter as he wrapped them around the edge of the bed. “Your mother got it for you. She thought it looked like Darwin and said his name was Darwin.”

“Why do you look like that?” she asked squeezing the stuffed dog in closer to her as she walked before Negan on the bed. Negan’s eyes were swollen and she could pick up on the fact that he was crying. “Why didn’t mom just give him to me herself?”

“Because she’s gone,” Negan responded noticing the half smile that pressed in over Evie’s features. It wasn’t a smile of happiness. No it was an uncomfortable smile where she didn’t get what he was saying.  

“What do you mean gone?” Evie repeated what he said, her arm squeezing tighter around the stuffed animal. Reaching out, she tried to hook her fingers around Negan’s, but he didn’t return the gesture. “Daddy? Where is mommy?”

“Gone,” Negan stressed, his jaw locking up when the color started to drain from Evie’s young features. “She’s not coming back Evie.”

“What do you mean she’s not coming back?” she dropped her hand at her side noticing that Negan was almost emotionless as he sat before her. “What did you do to her? Where is she?”

“I left her,” Negan explained with a broken breath, his eyes slowly locking with hers when they started to burn over again. “I left her because she’s not…,” Negan went to speak up, his words getting caught up when he felt the warmth of his tears sliding down his face again. “Your mother is gone Evie and she’s not coming back.”

“Do you mean dead?” she dropped the stuffed animal that Negan had handed her hearing Negan’s cries starting to fill the air. “This isn’t funny dad. It’s not a good joke. I know you’ve wanted me to be better to her, but this isn’t funny.”

“I’m sorry Evie,” Negan apologized, his bottom lip trembling when he could see that her face was turning red. “Your mom got bit.”

“No, no. That wouldn’t happen,” Evie insisted with a shake of her head, her eyes starting to tear over with Negan sitting before her. “Mom has never gotten bit. Mom knows better than to be put in a position where she could get bit.”

“It was an accident,” Negan’s voice was broken and sounded completely different while he tried to explain what happened to his daughter in the best way that he could. “She got you that stuffed animal and she wanted me to tell you that his name was Darwin. That if you have it with you, you will always have her and Darwin watching over you. She wanted me to tell you that she loved you. That you were the best thing that ever happened to her. She wanted you to know that she never regretted a moment that she spent with you and that she would always love you.”

“Stop,” she ordered of Negan in a demanding tone through her cries now finding a hard time believing what he was telling her. “Mom wouldn’t make you do that, she would do it herself. Where is she? Dad! Where is she?”

Dropping his head into his hands, Negan continued to cry hearing Evie’s breathing growing rapid. A grunt fell from his throat when Evie hit him in the shoulder and he lifted his head to stare out at his daughter, “Answer me! Where is she?”

“She asked me to leave her,” Negan was honest, his words stammering when he watched Evie start to sob. “So I did. Where she was bit…there was no coming back from it. She was scared if I brought her here that she would turn and hurt you. That she would hurt Nathan.”

“So you didn’t see her die,” she suggested with Negan biting down into his bottom lip while she shoved at him to try to get him to answer her. “You didn’t see her dead! That means she could still be alive. You have to go after her. You have to get her!”

“She’s gone Evie,” Negan insisted between cries feeling Evie hit him in the chest and he let her. “She’s not here anymore. I know she’s not here.”

“Why did you leave her?” Evie yelled at Negan while hitting him repeatedly. This was what he honestly deserved. Hell, he fucking deserved worse. “You have to go back! You have to get her. You can’t just leave her there.”

“It was her last wish Evie,” Negan reasoned with her finally having her collapse into his arms after he wrapped her up in them. The warmth of her tears stained at his shirt while she sobbed in his arms. “She wanted me to go and not look back.”

“You can’t just let her rot out there,” Evie begged of Negan, pulling her head back while she stared up at him with her hazel eyes. “You have to go back out there and…”

“I promised her,” Negan stressed and she immediately shook her head, hitting at Negan’s chest again.

“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t go back there and bring her home,” Evie snapped at Negan behind tears herself, her voice breaking with how hard she was yelling at him. “Go get her!”

Lowering his head, Negan felt her hitting him over and over again until he wrapped her up in his arms again, burying his head against the side of her neck. Between both of their cries, Negan could feel her shaking in his arms, “She can’t be gone. I never said I was sorry. I didn’t…”

“She wasn’t upset with you baby,” Negan whispered, stroking his fingers through Evie’s hair in attempt to calm her. “She loved you so much, that’s why she got the dog for you. She just wanted you happy. That’s all she ever wanted.”

“Please daddy,” she begged of him behind tears. “You have to go back. You have to find her. She can’t be gone.”

Holding Evie in his arms for a few more minutes, Negan thought about Y/N and Lucille. He walked away from both of them. He couldn’t put them down. Now was his chance to finally give one of the women that he loved a grave. A place for his children to find her. Evie was right. He couldn’t leave her body out there to rot away.

Getting up, Negan instructed Laura to stay with Evie and grabbed another car. Instead of telling anyone, he just got in that car and drove after grabbing a flashlight. Faster than he should have since it was dark. By the time he returned to the town, he had Lucille in one hand and the flashlight in the other. Every part of him dreaded making it up that hill as he approached it, afraid of what he would find.

When he finally made it to the top, he let out a shuddering breath when all he saw was the gun that she had sitting on top of the hill. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill herself. Driving back here, Negan was almost certain that he was going to find her body after he thought she had killed herself. That’s why he left. She knew that he wouldn’t be able to see her dead so that’s probably why she made it seem like she shot herself. Gazing around the area, Negan felt his heart hammering inside of his chest.

“Y/N?” Negan screamed out her name knowing that it was long past the four hour mark at this point. There was no way she would have made it. That meant one thing. She had turned and wandered off. And he was going to have to do everything in his power to find her so he could bring her home and give her the proper grave that she rightfully deserved.

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Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @felicity291 @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @neganswoman @ravenrose18 @xojdmasf

[pinkaditty]

Cater Diamond Thoughts

hey hey part 2 of my insatiable brainrot. been sitting in my drafts for like. weeks. it's Cater's turn. he's gyaruo (and im gyaru if u didn't know!) so i've been obsessed with him for like. months now.

summary: a small collection of thoughts about Cater Diamond that has no chance of curing my permanent unending gyaruo brainrot. help me please. content warning: suggestive content, implied sexual encounters, creepy (ish?) behavior, gn!mc, proofread once or twice at best. a/n: Cater's turn raaaaaah! this isn't exactly nsfw but all the same I'd really prefer it if MINORS DIDN'T INTERACT! thanks! also a reminder that I WILL NOT WRITE NSFW FOR TWST CHARACTERS CANONICALLY UNDER 18. thank you very much for respecting my boundaries! and i promise part 3 of the pervert obey me thing is in the works! <3

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI IM SO SRS.

thank you! enjoy the read!

Cater Diamond who is aloof.

He finds himself not caring at first, especially when you decide to spend all your time with other people when he could’ve been the perfect upperclassman. He finds himself not caring when he watches you get swept away by the hotter, older upperclassmen. He finds himself not caring when you can’t come by Heartslabyul as often anymore.

And then, very quickly, he starts caring. He doesn’t know why or how, but you somehow managed to become an object of his desires when he tries very hard to not let that happen with anyone, ever, at all. Sure he’s liked people, but he has never been spurred to act on it. So he doesn’t know why he goes out of his way to speak to you, to do things with you. Why does he invite you to go for tea and take cute pics? Why does he text you out of the blue just to share a silly thought or idea? Why does he jump for joy whenever he’s invited over to Ramshackle Dorm? And why do you go along with it every time?

He's mystified at how you've managed to break his aloof structure in so little time. But he's not going to let you get away with it. Now that you've caught his attention, he's going to ensure that he catches yours. 

Cater Diamond who is secretive.

He's the kind of person to keep things casual on his end, regardless of how committed the other party may be. He wants to know everyone's deepest secrets and desires, but prefers to keep his under multiple layers of locks and keys. Most of his relationships were almost always one sided, mostly because he could never keep himself tied down. He didn't like to be owned, but he liked to be desired.

After growing up in a house with two older sisters, he hadn't had much privacy, and hadn't had much secrecy either. But once he was exposed to different worlds, he made it a point to keep himself a secret. Talking about home was stressful, and working through the stress surrounding it was even worse, so he always kept his emotions a secret. His sunny disposition and eager attitude was more than enough to catch interested stares, so he kept it up. He was a bit of a tease, but people liked that. The problems came when people grew close to him and expected him to open up in return. That is usually when things would end or grow stagnant. The terrifying ordeal of being known and owned was too much for him. No commitment, no permanence, no promises. Just silly temporary flings, hookups, and infatuation. He was never tempted for more. 

And yet, with you, he finds it hard to not want to be yours. He craves your attention and will do anything to receive and retain it. It is especially satisfying when he manages to draw you away from others and instead towards him. It gains him more than a few displeased glares, but who cares? The only person whose attention he cares about anymore is you. 

Cater Diamond who is clever.

It may not seem like it, but he's got more than a few tricks up his sleeve. 

He will first ask you for your schedule, under the premise of wanting to spend more time together. When he has it, he memorizes it until he knows it off the top of his head. He keeps a close eye on your social media to track your favorite places, and asks you to go there with him, saying he wants to try something new. He plans out random encounters, few and far between enough to make them seem coincidental. He doesn't follow you, but he does show up. And because of that, he begins to stick out in your mind. 

He'll fish for your attention every chance he can get. He'll post the most random, silly things just to get you to like it. He'll click his pen a few too many times in class just to get you to glance over at him and watch him click it repeatedly. He'll fake a stumble if he's walking in front of you just to get your help. He'll put up his hair differently in flight class just so he can catch your questioning stare. He'll do all these things just to feel your eyes on him, so that he can feel like you've noticed him. And if he's brave enough, when he catches your gaze, he'll smirk knowingly, his eyes creasing up at the edges and say "You're staring," as though that wasn't exactly what he wanted. 

He can't bring himself to confess first, so he'll bait you into doing it, by planting the idea in your head in perhaps not-so-subtle ways. He'll mention the incoming Valentine's Day and how badly he wishes for a confession, or he'll bring up the topic of crushes often as though he's dying to know who you've got your eye on - all the while knowing it's him. When you finally crack and cave, admitting your feelings for him, his heart soars. Of course he accepts your feelings, and while the fear of commitment eats at him just slightly, it's muffled by his fulfilled want to be yours.

Maybe you fell first, but he definitely fell harder.

Cater Diamond who is prideful.

He's never been proud to be tied down, ever. But it's with you and he's learning to enjoy it. All he does is talk all of Heartslabyul's ears off (and anyone else who will listen) about how wonderful you are, or how beautiful you are, or how he adores every little thing about you. And while he does indeed love you, there is something satisfying about the palpable jealousy that hangs in the air when he mentions staying the night at Ramshackle Dorm or going out on cute little photogenic dates with you. His eyes glimmer with pride every time someone sucks their teeth or rolls their eyes or lowly growls. He doesn't even remotely feel threatened. 

He tries not to flaunt you too much, for fear of being overly zealous, but he offers his arm to you every time you walk together. He kisses your forehead sometimes when he sends you off to class. He takes as many pictures as he likes of you in your cutest outfits. And he always makes a show of it if you sit near him at lunch. He can't help it. He's just so proud. The question is, is he proud to be yours or proud to have you?

Cater Diamond who is capable.

It doesn't take long for you to bed each other; romance wasn't the only thing blossoming between you two. Cater very quickly proves himself to be far more than adept at such activities, but recognizes that there is love in this too, this time.

In the past, he always did it how his partner liked it to keep them interested, ensuring both parties were happy, but only to his own benefit. He never said "I love you" or anything as flimsy and daunting as that. It was always whispered moans and whines from him and his partner, various curses, vulgar descriptions, and a cry to signify release. Nothing more, nothing less. If such committed words were uttered, he'd stop seeing them. He always made it clear that that's never what he wanted to hear. He only wanted to hear how good they were feeling, how close they were, or what they wanted him to do or what they wanted to do to him. It was always just to get off or satiate a burning attraction, never to demonstrate love. 

Like the past, he wants to make you, his partner, feel good, but unlike the past, it is a demonstration of love. He will do everything in his power to ensure that you know that he loves you through every technique he knows. He thinks of you first and him second. Whatever you want done is done, however you want it, whenever you want it, all to show that he loves you. He doesn't care. As long as it satisfies you, anything's worth it. And he does satisfy you. Every time. 

He never gets tired of hearing his name moaned out on your tongue, and he never gets tired of the taste of yours, sweet as honey, lingering on his lips like a whisper.

Cater Diamond who is devoted.

He's been tied down, slowly but surely. Whether you planned it or not, you've simply got him wrapped around your finger. Of course he knows this, but can't bring himself to want to tear away. He is safe and comfortable with you, and all the things you've shown him. He quickly finds that, instead of being proud to have you, he's proud to be yours. He's proud to be loved in the way he's learned to love. Whatever residual fear he has of commitment, or loss of control, is all dissolved when he looks at you, your hand curled around his, your eyes watching him.

He takes pictures of you all the time to remind himself that he's yours, and he curls into your chest at night to remind himself that he's yours, and he bathes in the jealous stares of his peers to remind himself that he's yours.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Cater Diamond who is in love with you. 

------------------------

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Cater Diamond my beloved?!?!?? anyways. thanks you guys for reading. genuinely I hope you all appreciate Cater Diamond as much as I do, especially after reading this! take care, and stay tuned for the other adult characters!

[cliqueyourheels]

Smoke Break prt 1

Fandom: Stardew Valley

-> Sebastian x Sam

-> Tooth rotting fluff | sfw | Hurt/Comfort

a/n - This fic is turning out way longer than I thought it would be! So if i break tumblr word count this will be prt 1 (816 words)

Preview: Sebastian finds out Sam is leaving town and Sam grapples with wanting to tell him how he feels and not wanting to break a promise and a friendship

Gravel crunched under his boots, still stuck in the cracks and crevasses from walking through town, despite the cold stinging his cheeks and the snow starting to coat the ground, it actually felt kinda nice. Reaching the rundown community center his eyes flicked to a window, “What the fuck?” For just a second the dim moonlight may have tricked him into thinking that there was something staring at him from the window. He rolled his eyes and continued the winding path up to Sebastian’s house, it wasn’t unusual to get the Wanna come smoke? Text so late, but they hadn’t exactly been talking since Sam found out Abigail had a crush on Sebastian. But despite every bone in his body warning him not to, and Abby’s warning that pursuing Sebastian would result in .. less than wanted consequences, he was still staring at the door of Sebastian’s house at 11pm. 

“Hey, I’m over here.” Sebastian’s whisper shout came from three feet away at the lake. His legs dangled in the water, smoke puffing from his open mouth. “You think I’m smoking in the basement? I’d rather freeze to death.” He turned his head back to the lake, legs swishing in the still water making small pools flush out into the darkened waters. Sam sighed, rolling his eyes as he closed the distance between him and Sebastian, snow crunching under his weight with each step. Once he was standing next to him, Sebastian seemed smaller. Less intense than during the day – well the little daytime that he saw – Sam took off his winter boots setting his socks inside them and joined Sebastian in the chilling winter waters. “We haven’t talked in a while..” Sebastian let out his puff and handed the rolled paper to Sam who shrugged and took it gently. He avoided Sebastian’s keen eyes trying not to poke the emotions laying in his now tight chest as he took a drag and handed the paper back to Sebastian. He released, smoke blowing over his submerged legs.

“Yeah.. I guess it has been a … while.” Sam chuckled, he knew exactly how long it had been. He’d been counting the days until he didn’t feel like he was betraying Abigail by talking to his best friend. His bandmate. His … “I guess I got busy?” It was a lame excuse for having avoided Sebastian on the last four holidays. Days they would have usually spent smoking or practicing or sitting. Legs in the lake, talking. Sam rubbed at his neck, picking at loose strands of hair that hadn’t been blasted by hair spray. “Man it’s cold out here” he mumbled.

“I’d say you got busy but Vincent was telling Penny all about how you’d been locked in your room.. Or bothering your mom about leaving town..” Sebastian trailed off leaning forward to force Sam to meet his gaze. His brow furrowed as Sam leaned back, turning his head to the sky. “When were you going to tell me you were leaving town?” Sebastian’s face and tone was full of hurt and guilt, the kind that only comes when you lose something you love. Sam’s face contorted, a sad and neutral expression washing and retreating like the tides of the ocean. They sat, silence lingering as their legs swept water away and towards like boats on a dock. Rocking slowly with the comings and goings. Abigail’s words lingered in Sam’s head over and over, If you tell him how you feel. I’m telling your mom about the two of you. His mom wasn’t quite homophobic but the idea that his dad would somehow find out crushed a part of him. As if his loving Sebastian was something to be ashamed of. “Why do I have to find out third hand that my best friend is going to be gone before the next egg festival?” Sebastian couldn’t contain his hurt anymore. The once hardened and nonchalant facade gone, replaced with the expression of a child who doesn’t understand what’s going on.

“I..” Sam looked into the black-blue of the lake, “I was going to send you a letter-” Sebastian inhaled sharply, a tear fell from his eye, trailing down and falling into the lake. “Seb..” Sam raised his hand to wipe the tears off of his best friend’s face, “I just,” but he was lost for words. Everything had lost meaning. All the words he had prepared were gone. “I’m sorry.” was all he could manage, just above a whisper, almost as quiet as the snow falling on their jackets and on Sebastian’s eye lashes.

“A letter isn’t good enough.” Sebastian sniffled, wiping his face with his gloved hand. The paper forgotten and burned out in the snow beside them as Sebastian stood. His legs cascading water across the snow as he trekked back to his front door and left Sam out in the cold, alone with his thoughts.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Could you make a Quaritch Avatar 2 story by tickling his son Spider Socorro, please?

Hello! I think you asked me this question twice but I like the idea for my fic Visted on the Son where Spider is 7 so I wrote a small scene for the next chapter.

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the voice of their mother called out to them, “children. Come have the mid day meal.” Their argument was instantly forgotten as Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo’ak all rushed to their family bungalow. Spider hung back, watching his friends go. He caught sight of Neytiri waiting outside her home’s entrance for her kids. Neteyam happily hugged his mother before going inside, his siblings following after him. A familiar feeling of longing bubbled up inside Spider as he watched his friends with their mother. It intensified as Neytiri softly smiled at them, pure love in her eyes. When his friends were out of his sight, Neytiri’s gaze fell on him for just a moment, turning as cold and hard as stone as she looked down her nose at him. “Away with you demon’s son.” Her words weren’t overly hostile. More like she was shooing a pet. Spider hung his head, dying inside as he turned away.

Then just off in the distance he heard, “Spider! Where are y’a son? I’ve got lunch ready so come eat.” The boy froze as his father came into view. Sempu noticed him without seeing the danger just behind his son. He smiled when he spotted Spider, drawing closer. “There y’a are. Come on tiger, let's eat.” He held his hand out for Spider to take. The boy remained frozen as he felt more then saw Neytiri crouching defensively in front of her home. Sempu looked up, finally noticing the woman as she bared her teeth and hissed at him. Sempu shot her a ruthless smirk. “Well hello to you too Mrs. Sully.”

“Leave my home at once demon,” Neytiri said with deadly calm, “and take your spawn with you!” Spider could see his friends' scared faces, pecking out from behind their mother, only adding to his humiliation.

Sempu held his hands up in surrender, “alright don’t get your tail in a twist, we’re going.” He grabbed Spider by the arm dragging him away. The boy watched his friends disappear from sight, their gazes never leaving him.A storm of emotions brewed within Spider. It was so overwhelming that it rendered him numb, incapable of doing anything but quietly trail after his father. The urge to cry pricked at his eyes, that dreaded feeling soon sinking down until it was nothing. Once the Sully’s bungalow was far from his sights, Spider took a deep watery breath before ripping his arm free of his father’s hold. Sempu turned to him, clearly confused. “Come on now son. Let’s get movin’ before lunch gets cold….”

“No!” Spider stomped his foot to punctuate his refusal. “I don’t want to! I’m not hungry.”

Sempu raised an eyebrow, his hands on his hips. He took a second to think before crouching down to Spider’s level. The boy stayed defiant even as his father reached out to tuck his hair behind his ears, eyes soft with an understanding. “Y’a look mighty tired. That why you’re all grumpy.”

His gentle tone made Spider’s anger flare once again, “I’m not grumpy!”

To his surprise Sempu chuckled. “Oh yes you are. Come here sunshine…” he was swept up into his father’s arms where he immediately started flailing for release. Sempu was unfazed, clutching him tightly “…..we’ll get some food in y’a and put y’a down for a nap. You’ll feel right as rain after that.”

“Put me down!” Spider pushed against Sempu’s chest with all his strength. His father didn’t even seem bothered. “Put me down!” Furious, Spider lifted his mask just enough to bite Sempu’s arm.

“Hey!” Sempu’s hand came up to fit Spider’s mask back over his face. Then to the boy’s shock he was lifted up into the air, held at arm's length over his father’s head. “That wasn’t very nice. Good boy’s don’t bite.”

Spider flailed helplessly in the air. “Put me down!”

Sempu shook his head, “not without an apology first.”

“No!”

“Come on now, say it.”

“No!”

“Say, daddy I'm sorry for biting you.”

“But I’m not!”

Sempu remained stoic. “Well then enjoy air jail.”

“No!” Spider kicked and beat the air with his fist but the motion made him more scared than anything. Sempu had a firm grip on the sides of his torso but still, he felt the weight of gravity pulling him towards a nasty fall if he caused his father to drop him. “Sempu…”

“You’re okay I’ve got y’a,” he said gently. “Just say it….”

Spider flailed in the air a moment longer before he felt himself giving in. Even when Spider had been mean his father had still spoken to him without a shred of anger in his voice. It made Spider feel more terrible than he already did. “Daddy….”

“Yes…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are y’a sorry son?”

“Because I bit you.”

“And why do you need to apologize for that?”

“Because it wasn’t nice?”

Sempu lowered him, cradling Spider against his chest. The boy couldn’t bring himself to fight anymore, slumping into the hold. “That’s right. It wasn’t very nice. But thank you for saying sorry. I forgive y’a.” Spider didn’t say a word as he was carried off. Sempu ran his fingers through Spider’s hair in an attempt to comfort him. It did help the boy to feel a little less awful inside but it didn’t stop him from looking perfectly miserable. “Oh come on now tiger. You're okay. I’m not mad at you.” Spider didn’t respond. “Oh don’t be like that. Let’s turn that frown upside down,” Sempu tickled him under his chin. Spider spasmed, giggling uncontrollably. “Does that feel funny?” His son’s shriek of laughter was the only answer he needed as he moved his hands to Spider’s even more sensitive sides. He grinned from ear to ear seeing his son smile after being so upset.

“Stop,” Spider gasped out through his laughs, another high pitched shriek ripping from his lungs.

“What was that? Don’t stop?” Sempu went for the soles of Spider’s little feet. The boy yelped, giggling as he tried to kick. It turned into a game of Spider trying to keep his feet away while Sempu tried to catch them.

When they reached the cook fire Spider was red faced from laughing so hard. The recoms all grinned at the happy boy.