#chain link fence parts

[rueclfer]

shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki

when you sneak out to share a first at the river.

a/n: back on my touya b.s.

part two

"Jesus, what the fuck happened?"

By the time you approached Touya, you were gasping for air. There he was leaning up against the fence, tossing his flashlight up in the air while he patiently waited for your arrival while it looked like you just came from an animal attack.

You didn't answer him. You were bent over, clutching onto the chain link fence with one hand and the other on your scraped knee as you tried to catch your breath.

"Fuck." You hiss. "God damn."

You look up to see his shit eating grin, holding back his laughter.

"Fuck off." You huff. "My...neighbor's light...came on...so I booked it." You say in between gasps of air.

"And your knee?" He cocked an eyebrow at you clutching onto your ripped jeans and bloodied knee.

"What do ya think? I ate shit." You groan, finally standing up straight. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Like 10-15 minutes? I told you, you should've just asked your dad to sleep over. All this could've been avoided." He shines his flashlight to your knee, illuminating the caked blood leftover on your knee and pants.

"You forget that my dad isn't your biggest fan." You shoot him a sideways glance as you begin to shrug off your backpack, lightly fanning yourself.

"True, but, he's friends with my mom, and my mom likes you so that's an automatic in. Rei would've vouch for you."

"I guess." You mutter under your breath. "Next time we'll have her call my dad and ask for me, then."

Touya slips off his own backpack and tosses it over the tall barrier, letting it softly thump onto the patch of dirt and dead leaves, following it with your own bag.

He starts his climb first, effortlessly making his way to the top and jumping straight off from there, landing into a squat. You followed suit, but of course there he was standing close by behind you to make sure you have all of your bearings and not slip.

"You got it?" He holds out his arms, anticipating your fall.

"Duh."

Once your feet hits the ground, you slip your backpack back on after dusting the remnants of dirt off.

"You have your flashlight?" He asked. "Or do you need one? I have an extra."

You whip out your flashlight from your back pocket and shine it straight onto his face, causing him to wince and block it with his hand.

"Perfect." He groan. "After we get past this tree, it's all rocky and shit, okay? So watch your step because I'm not going to carry you back if you fuck up your other knee."

You silently flip him off. After he returns the gesture, he begins to lead you two deeper into the woods, letting your flashlights guide your way. You weren't really sure where you were heading, but this morning Touya told you that he "knew a spot," so of course here you are now, walking through a forest.

"Touya, look." You whisper, clutching onto the strap of his backpack to stop him and and point your flashlight at the base of a nearby tree, revealing a frog perching on an exposed root. "It looks like you."

"And you look like the piece of dog shit next to it."

At some point, when you were you felt you had possibly walked into the danger zone of the forest and were ready to tell him that you should head back, he turns around and stops you first.

It was sudden, almost causing you to fall back.

"What the fu-" You began, about to scold him for startling you. He grabs your shoulder and holds a finger to your mouth. You press your lips together, searching his face for a sign as to what your reaction should be. Should you be panicking? Is there an animal nearby?

"Shut up and listen." He whispers, cupping his ears.

From the distance, you hear a soft murmuring of continuous running water. You mouth slightly gaped open.

"No way." You mouth, slowly growing into a wide smile. "How much farther?"

"Should just be up ahead. Let's go." He motions for you to continue following him.

After a few more minutes of trekking, the trees open up to a shallow river lined by rocks and boulders. The water was almost still from where you were standing, but from afar, you could hear it rushing down against more rocks that stood in the middle of a stream.

"This is so fucking cool." You beam, turning to him to see him holding onto a tree to take off his shoes.

You two ended up choosing a boulder to perch on, letting your feet hang into the cool water. You close your eyes and take in the hot summer night and ambiance of frogs and the chirping of crickets.

"I actually stole this spot from Natsuo, surprisingly. The nerd took his girlfriend out here to ask her out."

You gasp "Natsuo? A girlfriend?"

"I know." He laughs, keeping his gaze forward. "My little brother has a girlfriend. Hasn't even introduced her to the family yet, that fucker."

"Damn before us too. We really do have no game." You laugh at yourselves.

"Pshh, says you." He waves you off. "At least I've had my first kiss."

You jaw drops and your head snap towards him.

"What? How come you never tell me these things?" You whine. "When was this?"

"Ah, it's embarrassing." He turns his head away to avoid your gaze, obviously regretting revealing that bit of information. In the darkness only illuminated by moonlight, it was hard to tell, but you just knew his ears were turning red. "It was when I was like 8."

"Oh." You deflate. "I mean, that barely counts" You roll your eyes.

"Still counts though."

"Tell me about it then. How was it?" You couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity. You were at the bright age of 17 with no experience with romance, let alone a kiss, and you were surprised to hear that your best friend since childhood was somehow one step ahead of you in this category without even trying.

He sits and thinks for a moment, lightly kicking his feet in the water. "Kinda gross. 8 year olds are inherently little grubby and unhygienic things, so imagine two of those pressing their mouths together."

"Figures." You sigh. "We're such losers."

"Who is we? Maybe you're a lovesick loser, but I'm perfectly fine." He flicks water at you, which you return with a handful of river water.

"You really haven't kissed anyone since?" You wiped your hand off on your pants.

"Nope." He popped.

"You're almost 18." You mutter. "Don't you think having a real first kiss is like, a mark of growing up? Maturity?"

"Mmm no I don't think so. That's just life, ya know? It just comes at you and I bet tons of people don't get their first kiss until well into adulthood." He shrugs. "Why do you want yours so bad?"

"Sometimes I feel so behind everyone else." You bring your feet up out of the water and hug your knees, using it as a head rest as you look over at Touya. "Everyone has an admirer, everyone has a romantic interest, everyone has kissed someone, except for me."

"You want your first kiss, then?" He mutters under his breath, looking away from you.

"Huh?" You scoot yourself closer to him, leaning into to his direction. "What did you say?"

"Do you... want your first kiss, then." He says a little bit braver this time, slightly meeting your eye from the side.

Your mouth gaped open and your hands suddenly go sweaty.

"From.. you?" Your eyes widen in surprise.

"I mean, yeah. If you want. Since you're so desperate for it" He starts playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie. "Only if you want to though." He quickly adds on.

"You're fucking with me. Do you want to? I know I'm bitching and moaning about it, but you don't have to do charity work, ya know?" You nervously laugh.

"It's not charity work." He quips back "We're best friends, so... I don't know, isn't it easier to do all that with someone you know and trust? If it makes you feel better, I guess this would be my first real kiss too."

You blow out a long breath of air. "Okay... I guess you're right. Best friends.. but, I don't know what I'm doing. Do you?"

"No, I don't." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "I just figure it's all improvising."

You turn to face him, motioning him to do the same. He takes his feet out of the water and criss cross them, scooting close enough to where your knees meet.

You flick on the flashlight and set it in your lap, letting it slightly illuminate his face. His face is bright red, but you wouldn't dare tell him. Not in this moment. Yours probably was too- you could feel the heat off of it.

"Can't we do this in the dark?" He whines, blocking the light with his hand. "It's embarrassing."

"How am I supposed to see what I'm doing?" You shoot back. "You want me to pretend like it's not you, or something?"

"No." He quietly mutters. "Your eyes are going to be closed anyways. How are you not even a bit embarrassed by this?" He rubs his pink stained cheeks.

"Because you're my best friend, and I love you, and this is all for the purpose of science." You pat his knee, comforting him all while your heart was racing and your hands were clamming up. "And this is your idea so if this blows up in our faces, it's your fault."

"Okay, fine whatever." He rolls his eyes. "For science."

"Put your hands behind your back." You instructed.

"The fuck? Why?"

"Because if you touch me, I'll panic." You pout. "Please."

"Every guy you kiss you're gonna ask them to sit on their hands?" He cocks an eyebrow at you.

"Shut up and do it, Touya, before I push you in this river."

He grumbles to himself for a second, but does as you say, interlocking his fingers behind his back.

You place both of your hands on his shoulders, leaning your faces in close. You look down at his lips, parted in anticipation. You could hear his slight heavy breathing layered over the running water in the background.

"Say stop whenever, okay? Okay. You ready?" You whisper. "Not nervous?"

He slowly nods his head, glancing down to your own lips, causing your stomach to flip. "Stop talking and just do it."

You weren't sure who leaned in first, but before you knew it, your lips were connected.

Soft. Warm. Slow. Running out of breath.

Your hands unclench his shoulders and move down to his knees, letting yourself comfortably relinquish control. Your body was on fire, and you were ready to jump up and hide after this, but you kept reminding yourself that this could be considered his first kiss too. You two were doing this together.

Suddenly, you feel his hands placed on top of your own, causing you to tense.

"Don't freak out." He breaks away for a moment to mutter against your lips, before continuing to let his hand climb up.

Right as his hand gets comfortable against the side of your neck, his phone resting in the pocket of his hoodie suddenly starts vibrating, causing you two to pull back, and snapping into realization of what you two had just done.

With wide eyes, you instantly flip off the flashlight and turn your head to avoid his gaze as you lightly pant to catch your breath.

"Fuck." He mutters, running a hand through his hair, looking at the caller-ID.

"Who is it?" You whisper-yell. "Who's calling you at this fucking hour?"

"Shut up, my mom's calling." He leans his head back and groans, rubbing his face in his hands. He hops off the boulder and began feeling around the ground for his shoes.

"Hello?" He slowly answers into the phone.

"Touya! Where are you?" You could hear Rei scold him loud enough even when she wasn't on speaker.

"Sorry, mom. I couldn't sleep so i'm just out and about." He press his phone against and cheek and shoulder as he begins putting his shoes back on, in which you follow suit.

"Is Y/N with you? Please tell me she is, because her dad called."

"FUCK!" You mouth silently to him. "Say no. He's gonna beat your ass. Say no." You whisper to him.

Touya looks at you for a moment, biting his lower lips while debating on what to say to his mom.

"Don't lie to me either. I will find out." She warns.

"Yeah she is, but we're fine." He sighs in defeat.

"Sorry." He mouths to you, reaching his hand up to ruffle your hair.

He starts to pace around, making it harder for you to hear her tucked into his ear.

"No we're just sitting."

"Yes sober....unfortunately." He lightly chuckles. "Okay, okay, sorry." he quickly follows up.

"By the river."

"Yup we have flashlights, pepper spray, and everything."

"She's fine."

"Yes I do know what time it is."

"Mom!" He exclaims, glancing your way with an embarrassed expression. "Yes! We are fully clothed. Stop it."

"We're going to head back right now."

He finally comes closer to you, making a choking motion to his own neck, causing you to giggle at his unfortunate and uncomfortable conversation with his mom.

"Touya." Rei sighs. "Bring her home safe okay? I'll talk to her dad, but we're going to have a chat about this later tomorrow."

"Can Y/N sleep over?" He shoots you a sly glance in which you return with a glare.

"Hello?"

"She hung up on me." He slides his phone into his pocket and shrugs. "Wasn't a no, though."

"Fucking idiot." You huff, gathering your things.

You two began your long trek back towards where you entered, walking side by side now. The air was thick around you two in tension and awkwardness as you waited for the other to bring it up or start a conversation to avoid it all together.

"Thoughts on your second, first kissed?" You break the silent wall and glance up at him.

"Mmmm definitely better than the first." He smirks down at you. "How was it for you? You feel okay?"

"Yeah." You mutter. "It was pretty good." You start "For the purpose of science, ya know."

"For the purpose of science." He repeats. "Any other experiments you wanna try while we're at it?"

"Touya!" You gasp and hit his arm. You pull the collar of your shirt over your nose to cover an incoming blush creeping up your neck.

"I'm kidding!" He laughs at your reaction. "Why are you so embarrassed all of the sudden now that we did it?"

"God you're annoying." You huff. "Why are you all of the sudden not? And flirting with me? Who even are you?"

"I'm just teasing." He nudges you playfully.

"Don't fall in love, now." You warn. "You wanna ruin this friendship so bad. In more ways than one." You mutter, returning the nudge.

"Yeah, whatever." He rolls his eyes, but landed his gaze back on you.

You continue the walk in silence, letting the back of your hands brush every now and then. You would blame the blush tattooed to your cheeks on the humid summer air, and avoid his gaze at all cost until he says something about it (he definitely will), and when you sneak back into his house, you'll go straight to his room where he'll bandage and clean up your knee and let you sleep in his bed while he'll sleep on the floor right beside you. He'll wait for your breathing to steady out into sleep and then he'll silently curse himself out and relive that moment with you at the river.

bonus scene:

the next day when the whole house is awake, fuyumi's sisterly senses slaps her silly.

she just KNOWS that some shit went down between you two. she's naturally so observant, so when she sees you two padding out into the living room for your morning tea with your hair messy, cheeks flushed with a shy smile on your lips, subtle glances at one another and his oversized shirt hanging on your shoulders, she just knew she has to ask one of you about your late night rendezvous.

it's not the first time she's seen you like this in the morning. you had been close to the family and her older brother's best friend for years now, but she instantly sniffed out a different aura emanating from you two.

"touya, can you help me grab something from the top of my closet?" fuyumi motions for touya to follow her to her bedroom.

"sure." he shrugs nonchalantly. "keep my tea warm." he shoots you a coy wink.

touya follows fuyumi into her room, a silence falls between then until the moment she clicks her door closed.

"before you ask, nothing happened." he rolled his eyes as if he was already anticipating her interrogation.

maybe her brother's instincts were much stronger than her's...

"liar!" fuyumi squeals. "it's all over your faces! mom was so pissed at you last night, where did you go?"

"we went by the river where nat asked out his lady." he shrugs.

"and then? i know something happened!" she presses on "tell me!"

"its nothing. just that.. we might have...kissed." he tries hiding the smile behind his arm. "crazy, right?"

she silently squeals some more, jumping and slapping her brother's arm in celebration.

she had known about her brother's crush for a while now, how could she not? they were only a couple of years apart, so it would be impossible to keep things a secret from one another.

"and what else? did you ask her out?" she looks up at him with stars in her eyes.

"one step at a time, little sis. stay tuned." he pats her head and goes back to join you and attend to his tea, which you of course, kept warm.

[gf2bellamy]

Hi i was wondering if you could write a fic where bau!reader is cheering spencer on at his baseball game?

softball — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a guy throwing sort of rude remarks at spence ( just like in the scene ) a/n: i rewatched the scene to write this and omg i forgot how silly it is i love them all so bad theyre literally family ( also i miss blake ) i had so much fun writing this i hope you like it !! <3 ( also i literally know nothing about softball so if anything is wrong i'm vv sorry </3 )

The warm afternoon sun bathed the softball field in golden light. You walked beside the bleachers, your sneakers crunching against the gravel path, with JJ at your side. Her son Henry skipped ahead, his tiny hand clutching hers, his excitement obvious as he pointed at the players warming up on the field.

Ahead, Spencer stood by the chain- link fence, deep in conversation with Derek, who was already dressed in his baseball uniform, adjusting his grip on his glove.

Spencer, in contrast, looked hesitant and nervous.

His eyes darted toward the field, where players were tossing balls and stretching, and you could see the uncertainty written all over his face.

“Hey!” JJ called, drawing their attention. 

Spencer turned, his brows furrowing slightly before his expression shifted into surprise. Practically the entire BAU team was gathered behind you—Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, Alex and even little Jack standing beside Henry. 

“What are you all doing here?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with disbelief. His eyes flickered over each of you.

You stepped forward, grinning up at him as you held out a black cap. “Came to support you, of course.” 

He turned it over in his hands, examining it, before slowly placing it on his head. The cap sat awkwardly over his curls at first, but he adjusted it carefully, pulling it down until it fit snugly.

“There,” you said, tilting your head as you studied him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now you look the part.”

Spencer huffed out a small, amused breath but didn’t argue. 

Ten minutes later, the game was in full swing. Derek was already at bat, sending the ball flying across the field with a powerful hit. The crowd erupted in cheers as he sprinted toward first base.

You clapped from your seat on the bleachers, sharing an excited glance with JJ. 

You watched as he stepped up to the plate, his movements hesitant as he selected a bat from the rack. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles whitening as he took his position. His stance was awkward, his feet too close together, and he shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Just before the pitcher threw the ball, Spencer turned his head, searching for something—someone. 

His eyes found you. 

You gave him an encouraging look, your lips curving into a soft, reassuring smile as you nodded.

Spencer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tightened his grip on the bat. He squared his shoulders as he turned back toward the pitcher.

The opposing player wound up and threw the ball.

Spencer swung—and missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling around the edge of the bleacher.

It was okay. He just needed to get a feel for it. 

The second pitch came. Spencer adjusted his grip, focused his gaze, and swung. 

Missed again. 

The sound of the bat slicing through empty air was met with a few sympathetic murmurs from the crowd.

You exhaled softly through your nose, feeling a twinge of nervousness for him. You could see the frustration creeping into his posture, the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw tightened.

Rossi, stood up from the bleachers as he clapped his hands together. “It’s all right, kid. You got this. Just keep your eye on the ball.” 

Spencer rolled his shoulders before repositioning himself. The third pitch came. He swung—and missed once more. 

A sharp whistle blew, signaling the end of his turn. Spencer sighed, pushing his hair back under the cap as he stepped away from the plate. 

Time passed, and the game continued. The team erupted in cheers when Derek hit a line drive into the outfield, sprinting around the bases with that signature confidence of his.

You clapped along with everyone else, letting out a light laugh when he slid into home base, grinning like he owned the field. 

Your attention drifted back to Spencer. He stood off to the side, a bat in his hand, tossing it lightly into the air as if trying to distract himself.

Except, instead of landing smoothly in his grip, it fumbled and hit the dirt with a dull thud.

You had to bite your cheek to suppress a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him further. He bent down quickly, picking it up like nothing had happened, his cheeks tinged with pink as he went back into position.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. There was something so endearing about Spencer Reid—genius, FBI profiler, and yet utterly out of his element on a softball field.

You stood up from the bleachers, brushing off your jeans as you made your way over to the chain-link fence that separated the stands from the field. Leaning against it, you called out to him, your voice light and teasing.

“Need a hand with that bat, or are you just practicing your juggling skills?”

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly as he realized you were watching him. He straightened, brushing a stray curl out of his face as he walked closer to the fence, the bat dangling loosely in his hand.

“I, uh, didn’t realize anyone was paying attention,” he admitted, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” you said with a grin, resting your arms on the top of the fence. “And I have to say, your juggling could use a little work. Maybe stick to profiling for now.”

He let out a small, self-conscious laugh, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I’m not exactly cut out for this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the field. “I mean, I can calculate the trajectory of a ball in my head, but actually hitting it? That’s a whole different story.”

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “Hey, you’re doing better than you think. It’s just a game, Spencer.”

He glanced over at Derek, who was currently showing off with a series of exaggerated practice swings, much to the amusement of the rest of the team. “Yeah, well, Morgan makes it look easy,” Spencer muttered.

“Derek’s had years of practice,” you pointed out. “You’re just starting. Cut yourself some slack.”

Spencer sighed, leaning against the fence on his side so that you were face to face, only the metal links separating you.

Your heart softened. “You don’t have to be good at everything, Spencer. It'’s okay to just have fun.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes searching yours as if trying to find some kind of reassurance. Finally, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fun, huh? I guess I can try that.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said, reaching through the fence to give his arm a playful nudge. “And hey, if nothing else, you’ve got the best cheering section here. We’re all rooting for you.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and for the first time since the game started, he looked genuinely relaxed. “Thanks,” he said, his voice warm. “That… means a lot.”

Just then, Derek’s voice boomed across the field. “Reid! You’re up again! Stop flirting and get over here!”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and he quickly straightened, adjusting his cap. “I, uh, should probably go,” he said, glancing back at you.

You laughed, waving him off. “Go on. Show them what you’ve got.”

Smiling you went back to your seat. When he stepped up to bat, he glanced over at you one more time, and you gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up, earning a small chuckle from him.

JJ, Penelope, and Alex all exchanged knowing glances. 

When Spencer turned his back to get into position, you caught them looking and furrowed your brows. “What?” 

JJ smirked, leaning in slightly. “Oh, nothing.” 

“Absolutely nothing at all,” Penelope added, eyes twinkling. 

Alex just shook her head, biting back a small, amused smile. 

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth blooming in your chest was undeniable. 

And when Spencer stepped up to bat once more, he stole one last glance at you before squaring his stance. His eyes lingered for just a moment, and you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

But then, from the opposing team’s dugout, someone called out, “This guy can’t hit.”

You frowned, your expression twisting in annoyance.

That was unnecessary.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who noticed. 

Derek, standing near home plate, lifted a hand and called for a time-out. He turned on his heel and strode toward Spencer, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned in to say something. 

You let out a small breath of relief. 

Rossi, seated just below you on the bleachers, leaned back slightly and smirked. “Shoot him another one of your good luck smiles. Maybe he won’t miss this time.” 

Your eyes narrowed, heat creeping up your neck. “Funny,” you muttered, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep yourself composed. 

Rossi chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, and the rest of the team exchanged knowing glances. 

Derek finally walked back to his position, and Spencer turned around once more—his eyes searching for you almost instinctively. You met his gaze, and despite the slight nervousness still lingering in his stance, you smiled at him, giving him an encouraging nod. 

“There you go,” Rossi muttered under his breath, and you shot him a glare, though it held no real heat. 

You ignored him, keeping your eyes on Spencer as he adjusted his grip on the bat, exhaled, and squared his stance once more. 

The pitcher wound up. 

The ball came flying toward him. 

Spencer swung. 

And missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling slightly as you watched him adjust.

The second pitch came. 

Another miss. 

You swallowed hard. You could tell he was getting in his own head. 

And then, just as the pitcher lined up for the third throw, that same player from earlier muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, “This guy’s got nothing.” 

Your head snapped toward him, irritation bubbling up in your chest. Oh, shut up, you thought, resisting the urge to march over there yourself. You shot the player a glare, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

Then, the third pitch came. 

For a split second, time seemed to slow. 

Spencer swung— 

Crack! 

The unmistakable sound of the bat making solid contact echoed across the field. 

The ball shot into the air, soaring far past the infield. 

For a second, Spencer just stood there, wide-eyed, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. He blinked at the bat in his hands, then at the ball still sailing through the air, as if trying to process what had just happened.

He didn’t move an inch. 

“Spencer, run!” 

Everyone was shouting now—Derek, Rossi, JJ, Penelope,Alex even Hotch. But it was your voice that seemed to snap him out of it. His head jerked in your direction, and when he saw you standing, hands cupped around your mouth as you cheered, something seemed to click. 

He ran. 

Derek was smacking his hands against his knees. “C’mon, kid, move it!” 

Spencer rounded first, then second. The outfielders were still scrambling to recover, and the team’s cheers only grew louder. 

By the time he made it to third, you could see the determination set on his face. His cap had slipped slightly, his curls bouncing with every stride, and his cheeks were flushed from the effort.

“Go, Spencer!” you yelled, clapping wildly. 

The second the opposing team threw the ball toward home plate, Spencer took one final, desperate sprint— 

And then slid. 

It wasn’t the smoothest slide, and judging by the way he grimaced as he skidded across the dirt, it definitely wasn’t something he had ever practiced before. But when the referee threw his arms out and called, “Safe!” the entire BAU team erupted. 

Derek was the first to reach him, pulling Spencer to his feet and clapping him on the back so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of him. “That’s what I’m talking about, kid!” he shouted, his grin wide and proud.

JJ and Penelope were cheering loudly, their voices carrying across the field, while Rossi let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. Even Hotch, who was usually so stoic, was cheering.

But your eyes were on Spencer. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, but there was a look of pure triumph on his face.

His cap was crooked, his shirt was covered in dirt, and his hair was a complete mess, but he looked happier than you’d seen him in a long time.

When his eyes found yours, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. You grinned back at him, giving him a thumbs-up, and he shook his head, laughing softly as he adjusted his cap.

After a few moments, as the team’s cheers began to subside, Spencer finally managed to wiggle free from Derek’s grip, stepping away from the celebratory pit.

His teammates continued to pat him on the back, offering congratulations and words of encouragement, but Spencer’s attention was already drifting.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you.

When he finally spotted you, his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You walked up to him, your smile growing wider with every step.

Spencer was still slightly breathless, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline , but all he could focus on was you.

The noise of the cheering team, the occasional slap on his back from his teammates—it all faded into the background the moment your arms wrapped around his neck. 

His fingers instinctively tightened around your waist, his grip warm.

“You did great,” you said, your voice full of excitement, as you pulled back slightly, your smile so wide it felt like it could light up the entire field. 

Spencer’s lips parted slightly, his mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. You were so close.

He could see the way your cheeks were slightly flushed—whether from the excitement of the game or something else, he wasn’t sure. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, smiling brightly. “Yeah.” 

His heart stuttered at the confirmation, at the way you were looking at him like he had genuinely impressed you.

It wasn’t often that Spencer Reid felt cool, but right now, standing here with you, he kind of did. 

The way you were looking at him, your arms still loosely draped around his neck, made him feel like he’d just accomplished something extraordinary—even if it was just a lucky hit in a casual softball game.

“See, pretty boy? Told you you had it in you,” Derek called, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past, effectively snapping Spencer out of his daze. 

You giggled, finally stepping back, though Spencer hesitated before letting you go.

Garcia practically skipped over, phone in hand. “Oh, don’t mind me, just capturing all these adorable moments,” she teased, wiggling her fingers at her screen. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth creeping up your neck. “Garcia…” 

“What? This is gold,” she argued, waving her phone. “The genius hits a home run, and his biggest fan is the first one to congratulate him? I live for this.” 

Spencer, still trying to recover from all of this, rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning.

You reached up, gently adjusting his cap.

Your fingers brushed against his forehead, and for a moment, Spencer froze, his breath catching as he looked down at you.

“There,” you said softly, smoothing the brim of the cap. “Now you look like a proper MVP.”

Spencer’s lips parted, but no words came out. He just stared at you, his mind racing as he tried to process the way your touch made him feel.

Rossi, who had been watching from the bleachers with an amused smirk, leaned toward Hotch and muttered, “I give it two months.”

Hotch merely sighed, shaking his head. “They���ll be the last to realize it.”

[itneverendshere]

rewatching desperate house wives right now and would love to see a little something inspired by gabrielle and carlos?? maybe season 2 when he's in jail and she wants a conjugal visit. just thought it would be fun, love your work!!!

I'M THE GIRL YOU DIE FOR- r.c

pairing: canon!rafe x queenb!kook!reader

of course, you had to be here.

no one else was going to fight for rafe—certainly not that tired, old man, with his cheap suit and receding hairline.

god, you hated this place. the lighting was terrible, the walls a sad, dull beige that screamed "i give up," and the leather chairs were probably fake.

honestly, couldn’t these people at least pretend to have some standards? guess that’s what happens when you’re not the one cutting the checks.

now, instead of champagne and designer brunches, you were spending your afternoons in a hellhole like this. you stood near the chain-link fence, your sunglasses shielding you from the glaring sun.

in the distance, the inmates were out in the yard, working out, talking in groups, smoking—whatever it was they did to kill time.

who thought it was a good idea to have meetings out here? the yard was full of dirt, sweat, and who-knows-what, and the chain-link fence looked like something out of a low-budget crime show. you flicked a piece of lint off your skirt, more for effect than necessity.

maxwell finally showed up, his face blank, like he wasn’t impressed by the outfit you’d spent an hour putting together. whatever. you were here for rafe, not him.

“we need to talk,” you said, tightening the hold on your birkin like it weighed a thousand pounds. it was designer. it probably cost more than his car.

maxwell didn’t even flinch. “about?”

cheap suit, cheap attitude. honestly, if you weren’t so desperate, you’d be done with this idiot by now.

“about my fiancé.” you tilted your head, giving him your best ‘don’t play dumb with me’ look. “we need a conjugal visit. and i need you to make it happen.”

“a conjugal visit?” he said it slow, like you were asking for a miracle.

“yes.” you smiled tightly. “you know, those things where people in prison get to have a little privacy? i want you to get us one.” you rolled your eyes. god, this guy was infuriating. “isn’t that part of your job? to get what we need?”

maxwell raised an eyebrow. “a conjugal visit isn’t part of the deal. rafe’s charges are serious. i’m trying to get your fiancé out of jail, you want me to stop everything just so you can have a booty call?”

he was acting like you were asking for something outrageous.

as if it wasn’t completely reasonable for you to want to see rafe. really see him. after months. this was rafe cameron you were talking about. he had power. you had power. how could this crusty lawyer not understand that?

“i’m not asking, maxwell. i’m telling you. make it happen.”

“i said no.”

you scowled at him, “all we need is an hour. you can’t tell me no! you work for me, you will make it happen.”

he gave a fake sigh, the kind people did when they thought you were being dramatic.

“listen,” he sneered, leaning in slightly. “i’m not your servant. you don’t get to snap your fingers and expect things to just happen. newsflash—your boyfriend is in prison. not some hotel.”

oh, this smug asshole. you were about to really let him have it when a low voice interrupted from behind the fence.

“you got a problem, lady?”

you turned, eyes narrowing as you saw two inmates standing near the fence, both of them massive. tattoos snaked up their arms, and they looked rough. you’d seen them with rafe before.

maxwell glanced back at them, trying to act tough, “excuse me, but this is a private conversation.”

“private? you’re out here talking loud enough for the whole yard to hear. we heard what you said.” he tilted his head toward you, eyes narrowing on maxwell. “sounds like you’re disrespecting cameron’s girl.”

maxwell stammered, suddenly not so confident. “i—i’m just trying to explain that a conjugal visit is complicated. there are rules—”

“we don’t care.”

the second maxwell started running his mouth, you could already tell he had no idea who he was dealing with. he was still trying to act like he had the upper hand, like he was some big-shot lawyer who could push people around. you almost pitied him. almost. but honestly, he deserved what was coming.

“you’re not gonna get away with this,” he snapped, all bravado, puffing out his chest like that was going to make him any less pathetic. “you think you can intimidate me? i’ll have you all locked up for life if you so much as lay a finger on me.”

you rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses. what an idiot.

the bigger inmate—tank, you’d heard people call him—reached through the fence with a broomstick.

you hadn’t even noticed it before, but he must’ve grabbed it from somewhere nearby. he jabbed it into maxwell’s shoulder, not hard enough to really hurt him, but enough to make his point. maxwell jumped back like he’d been electrocuted.

“hey! what the—” he shouted, trying to step out of range, but tank just laughed and poked him again, this time aiming lower, jabbing him in the ribs.

“you don’t make the rules here, old man,” tank sneered, poking him once more, this time a little harder. “you’re gonna learn that the hard way if you don’t shut your mouth. apologize!”

maxwell’s face was turning red now, panic setting in as he tried to dodge the broomstick, but the other guy grabbed the handle, keeping it steady while tank prodded him over and over, relentless.

“i swear to god,” maxwell was screaming now, voice cracking. “i’ll have the guards throw you in solitary! you’ll never see daylight again, i’ll make sure you rot in here!”

the inmates just laughed, like his threats were some kind of joke. and honestly, they were. you watched, arms crossed, completely unbothered, as maxwell flailed, trying to keep his balance while other inmates jabbed other broomsticks at him, from every side, like he was nothing more than a punching bag.

“you hear that, boys?” tank said, grinning as he poked maxwell one more time. “he’s gonna get us locked up for life! like we’re not already in here.” the other inmate burst out laughing. a few more guys started drifting closer to the fence, watching with interest. “apologize!”

maxwell’s face was pure panic now. “stop it!” he screamed, backing up so far he was almost falling over. “i’m serious, i’ll call the warden, i’ll—this is all her fault, if she wasn’t such a goddamn horny b—”

you gasped, insulted, ready to read him to filth but the inmates beat you to it.

“do it,” the second guy sneered, his voice low and threatening. “see if we care. you think we don’t know how to make things happen? you’d be gone before you even got your phone call.”

a few of them started yelling, and jeering, like they were ready to jump in, too. maxwell’s eyes darted around, realizing that this was spiraling out of control.

“you idiots!” he screeched, his voice high-pitched and panicky. “you’ll start a riot! they’ll lock all of you down—no more yard, no more visits, nothing! you’re gonna screw yourselves over!”

but they didn’t care. the guys on the yard were getting riled up now, shouts echoing across the open space. some of them were banging on the fence, rattling it hard enough to make it shake.

“apologize to the lady!”

one of the other inmates reached through the fence, grabbing at his sleeve, yanking him forward. maxwell screamed, struggling to pull away, but the guy held on tight, his grip ironclad.

“come on, boys!” someone yelled from the yard, and suddenly it was like the floodgates had opened. more and more inmates rushed toward the fence, shouting, banging on the metal, some of them reaching through, trying to get a piece of the action, “apologize!”

you adjusted your sunglasses and turned to leave, your heels clicking against the pavement. you hope they kill him for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚

you were dressed to the nines, as usual, in a designer dress that probably cost more than what the guards made in a month. even in this drab setting, you looked like you belonged on a yacht, not here, in some depressing room meant for criminals and their girlfriends.

you strutted toward him, your lips glossed to perfection, knowing full well that the bratty smile curling your mouth would drive him insane.

it always did.

rafe was already sitting there, arms crossed, looking as exasperated as you’d ever seen him.

his jaw was clenched, and the muscles there twitched. he was not happy.

you smirked. of course, you weren’t expecting a warm welcome, but at least you got to see him.

“hi, baby,” you purred, batting your lashes as if you weren’t here to make his day harder. “missed me?”

he just stared at you for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to find some ounce of patience. then he let out this long, heavy sigh, rubbing his hand down his face before finally looking at you again.

“you—” he started, then stopped, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “you started a riot because you wanted a conjugal visit?”

you tilted your head innocently, like you didn’t understand why he was so worked up.

“almost,” you corrected, as if that made it any better. “it wasn’t like they actually did anything.” you waved your hand dismissively, the gloss on your lips catching the light as you smiled.

“you—” he stopped, biting the inside of his cheek again, trying to rein it in. he was always like this—prone to temper, to obsession. the need to control everything. especially you. “do you know how close it came to getting out of control? the guards were ready to lock the whole place down. for days. you think that would’ve been good for me, huh?”

you shrugged, not really fazed.

“he was being a dick to me, baby. what was i supposed to do? that lawyer was useless. i wasn’t just going to stand there and let him talk to me like that.”

his eyes dropped to your mouth, unable to resist.

“he was the best lawyer in the fucking county.”

“they clearly need new ones then.”

rafe groaned, trying to keep from losing it completely.

“he almost called me a bitch!”

“were you acting like one?”

“and so what if i was?” you leaned back, crossing your arms, the movement accentuating your designer dress. “he was the one acting like an asshole. he’s lucky i didn’t throw my drink at him. if i’d had one.”

he looked like he was about two seconds away from unleashing his deranged side, rubbing his hand over his face again, like that was going to somehow make all of this disappear.

“you don’t get it, do you? you can’t pull this shit in here, baby. it’s not the fucking outer banks. people don’t just let you get away with whatever you want because you look good and throw money around.”

you rolled your eyes, flipping your hair over your shoulder.

“yeah, well, maybe they should. you don’t see me lowering my standards just because you’re stuck in this dump, do you?” you gestured around the room, your nose wrinkling at the depressing, beige walls. “god, i mean, who chooses these colors? it’s like they want people to lose their minds in here.”

he scoffed, “that’s what you’re worried about? the color of the walls?”

you pouted, “what else was I supposed to do? sit and wait for him to do nothing? ’m not stupid.”

"you're lucky you're even allowed in here after that stunt.”

you gave him a sweet, almost patronizing smile, teeth digging into your lower lip. "aww, baby, are you worried about me?”

"stop," he snapped, "this shit isn’t funny. you think i want to spend the next month in solitary because you couldn't keep your mouth shut?"

you didn’t flinch. in fact, you smiled even wider, enjoying how worked up he was getting.

“don’t be so dramatic. it wasn’t like anything actually happened.”

"you're out there playing power games with people who don't care about you,” he tapped two fingers against his temple, brows slightly raised,“they won’t bow down because you’ve got money or a pretty face."

"maybe not, but they’ll listen if i push hard enough," you said coolly. "and guess what? they did."

he clenched his jaw again, running his hands through his growing hair in frustration. he looked like he was fighting every instinct not to explode.

"you really think you're helping me, don’t you?"

you crossed your legs slowly, adjusting your dress so the fabric draped perfectly. “would you rather have me fuck someone else? y’know… a free man?”

that got a reaction. his eyes flickered with something dangerous, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in close.

“you wouldn’t.” he whispered, the words laced with venom and amusement at the same time.

your smile turned wicked. “wouldn’t i?”

his fingers twitched on the table, the way they always did when he was seconds away from grabbing you.

“you’re really testing me right now,” he said slowly, his fingers drumming on the metal table between you. "you think ’m stuck in here, so you can play your little games? make me jealous?”

you held his gaze, unbothered, your lips curling into a defiant smile. "’m just reminding you that i have options. ones that aren’t sitting in a prison cell.”

he chuckled darkly, though there was nothing funny about the look in his eyes.

"options, huh?" his voice was edging on borderline strained. "and what makes you think i wouldn't kill any man who even looked at you?"

"you’d have to catch him first, wouldn’t you? and we both know you’re a little… tied up at the moment."

his hand shot out, gripping your lower cheecks with a force that sent you spiriling, remembering how he used to manhandle you anytime he got his hands on you, your faces were almost touching.

his eyes were wild. possession. obsession. the kind of dark love that made you both feel alive.

“you’re mine. no matter where i am, no matter who else you think you can have. you’re mine.”

“then get the stupid conjugal visit,” you hissed through your teeth, “’m horny.”

“’m not asking you. ’m telling you. you don’t have options sweetheart. you never did.”

you felt your pulse quicken.

god, he was insane, but that’s what made it so intoxicating.

he was right. no matter what you said or did, no matter how much you tried to push his buttons, it always came back to one thing: you belonged to him.

“i’ll get you your damn visit,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “but ’m not doing it because you demanded it. ’m doing it because you need to be reminded of something.” he leaned back, letting go of your face, his fingers printed into your cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours, “you’re mine. and i’ll make sure you remember that.”

you rubbed where his grip had been, the throbbing sensation making it clear that he hadn’t lost his touch—he never did.

you grinned as you leaned forward, closing the space between you two again, “i’ll be waiting, baby.”

rafe’s smirk widened, his eyes burning with that possessive glint you knew all too well. there was no escaping him, not that you really wanted to.

“enjoy your time behind bars,” you added, standing up slowly, your movements deliberate, making sure he had a full view of your ass as you walked toward the exit. “maybe i’ll find a way to keep myself busy until you get out.”

he didn’t answer, but you could feel his eyes burning into your back as you left the room.

you knew you were pushing him, playing with fire, but that’s how you both liked it. this was the game you played. you couldn’t wait for him to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

[oneforthemunny]

if i knew then |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|

prompt: a collection of flashbacks from before.

contains: angst. like idk how else to say it- ow ow ow angst. all flashbacks. teen pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy. shitty judgy people. insecurities. dream crushing. fighting. language. really just bittersweet angst. chaos. they're so not good and immature in these. also might be a part one to a two part series.

October 17th, 1985

“We’re gonna get caught, Eddie.” Your heart trilled, heavy and hard at a thundering pace, his hand holding yours so sweetly, guiding you through the small patch of forestry that led to the football stadium- you hoped he couldn’t feel how your palms were beginning to sweat. 

“Who’s gonna catch us?” Eddie turned, chin hooking over his shoulder to give you a teasing grin. He pushed back a limb, unbothered that the branches were undoubtedly scratching at his leather jacket. “No one’s gonna be out here unless they’re doin’ the same shit we are, sweetheart. Promise ya.” 

Your tummy flipped with an adrenaline rush of heat, squeezing his hand tighter, moving closer to him as the dirt path turned to broken concrete, the Hawkin’s High School football stadium vacant of light, but bleachers standing high in the moonlight. 

Eddie moved towards the back side of the chain link fence, to the corner, heavy boot sliding under the exposed chain metal, lifting it so it peeled upwards. “After you,” Eddie bowed playfully, nodding towards the small gap. 

Your lips twisted, heat pricking at your cheeks. “I should’ve worn pants, I guess.” You muttered, hands smoothing over the skirt you’d chosen instead, despite the chilly temperatures. You knew Eddie liked you in a skirt, eyes always lingering and flickering towards your exposed legs. Even before you were ‘official’, you’d always catch him looking during fourth period. 

“‘S alright,” Eddie shrugged, lips puckering and pulling into a smirk he tried to hide. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

“Eddie,” You hissed, a trilling squeal of excitement in your tone, looking over your shoulder as you shimmied through the small space, careful not to pick your sweater. 

Eddie grinned, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted, catching a peek as you crawled in. He followed you closely, expertly sliding in before the chain fencing snapped back into place. You wondered how many times he’d snuck in here before. Maybe he was the one who made the hole in the fence to begin with. If he’d brought any other girls with him before. 

Eddie’s hand found your back, sliding over to your hip, pulling you close into him. “See? No one’s here.” Eddie nodded, motioning towards the empty rows of bleachers, the vacant football field. “You can relax now, baby, told you no one would be here.” 

“Yeah?” You hummed, leaning into his chest, warm cotton brushing your skin. “Guess I should trust you. Seems like you’ve done this a few times before.” 

Eddie’s chest rumbled with a laugh, squeezing the fat of your hip. “Only a few.” 

“Yeah? With who?” You scoffed lightly, brows pinched when you looked up at him. 

Eddie’s brows raised in amusement, lips rolling and biting back a grin. “Really hot chick, ya know? Her name was Gareth.” Eddie snorted in laughter. “I’ve only been here one time, last year with Gareth. We spray painted Kimmy Frank’s number on the field, wrote ‘call for a good time’ under it after she stood Jeff up at homecoming.”

“That was you?” You gawked. 

“Yeah,” Eddie smirked proudly. “She deserved it. Asked him out and got him all excited, then laughed at him when he showed up. Said it was a dare and called him names. Really fucked him up, ya know? So we thought we’d embarrass her.” 

“It definitely worked.” You muttered, passing the twenty yard line that stood out from the others with a fresh coat of paint, from Eddie and Gareth’s handiwork. “Didn’t the Franks have to change numbers because so many people were calling?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted with a laugh. “I might’ve put it in the stall at The Hideout, too.” 

Your heart skipped, stomach dropping with the same prickling rush of fear and excitement it always did when you were with Eddie. The head reeling, mind numbing kind of rush that had you brainlessly going into any situation with him. 

“Here,” Eddie pulled you from your own thoughts, stopping at the center of the field. “This feels like a good spot.” 

“Eddie-” You looked around, towards the fence then the other side. You were so exposed, right in the middle of the field, for anyone to see. 

“-Baby, I told you, no one’s gonna come. Believe me.” Eddie hummed, shimmying off his jacket. “It’s not like this is Fort Knox or somethin’. It’s a public high school. No one’s giving a shit who’s here.” 

You bit at your lip, rolling it around as you tugged at your fingers, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. It had been growing and growing since you first decided to sneak out, after your parents had gone to bed, slipping through the window and running down the quiet street towards Eddie’s can parked on the corner. 

“C’mon,” Eddie muttered, cold hands catching your jaw, the metal of his rings meeting your own wind bitten cheeks, pulling you into him. “I’m not gonna let you get in trouble.” 

“I feel like you are the trouble.” You muttered, your body betraying your brain, letting yourself slip into his hold, hands pulling at his shirt. 

Eddie grinned, lips barely brushing before they captured yours, pulling you into him. Hands pulling at your clothes, your hips, sinking onto the cold grass. Eddie laid you back on his leather jacket, a gentleman, you mused. Shoving his pants and boxers around his thighs, he flipped your skirt up, lips still pulling at yours as he rutted into you. Your head spun, dizzy with excitement and pleasure, fists balling at the fabric of his shirt, hoping the sun would stay gone forever so the night would never end. 

July 28th, 1986

“Holy shit,” Eddie muttered, cradling the can of Similac. “Is there not a knock off version of this?” 

“No,” You hissed, rocking Jude close to your chest. 

You could feel the judging eyes of the couple beside you. Their baby in a stroller, cart full of diapers and groceries, the woman’s left hand adorning a rather large diamond, the man clean cut in a suit and tie. The polar opposite of you and Eddie, two scraggly looking teens with a two month old baby, and an empty cart. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just get some of Marsha’s milk?” Eddie asked, turning to look at you. “She said she’s overproducing anyways, and she’d give you some bottles since you’re not-” 

“-Eddie,” Your body burned with embarrassed heat, tensing as the others in the aisle turned, lips pursed in disapproval. “Just get the formula.” 

“Baby, this is two-fifty a can. Marsha said she’d give it for free. I don’t see why you wouldn’t just take that.” Eddie said, trying to rationalize with you. 

The older woman beside you scoffed, her nose sticking in the air in disapproval as she turned to the young girl beside her. “And that’s why you don’t have a baby before you're married. You don’t want to end up like these two.” Her eyes narrowed towards you and Eddie. “It’s unfair to the baby.” 

Your heart stopped, fell into your stomach, your breath leaving with it. You thought you’d be used to this- the dirty, judgy looks when you went to prom nearly nine months pregnant, or when you barely made it to graduation after you had Jude three days prior. Still, it felt like a suckerpunch to your sternum every time. You’d blame the consuming shame as the reason you barely left the house now. 

“Lady, mind your own fuckin’ business, alright?” Eddie snapped, a growl in his voice that left her jumping, hurriedly pushing the cart down the aisle. 

You didn’t dare look to the couple beside you, but you could feel their judgment burning through you. Jude had begun to fuss the moment you entered the store, picking up on your apprehension that left him unsettled, until he finally began to cry. 

“Shit,” Eddie muttered, looking down at the baby, his face beginning to scrunch with the warning of a wail. “Here, take him to the car and I’ll check out.” 

“No, I can check out.” You shook your head, overwhelmed with the interaction from before and now this. “We still need diapers.” 

“I can get diapers-” 

“-No.” You snapped, teeth baring in irritation. “You always get the wrong size. I can get them.” Your voice was harsh, stilling Eddie and you both with shock in the aisle. 

Jude’s whimpering cries were beginning to grow louder over the beating of your heart thundering in your ears. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking down at Jude, then back at Eddie. “I just… I need a second.” 

Eddie nodded slowly, pulling out his wallet and passing it to you. “I got him.” Eddie muttered, slowly taking Jude from your arms. “I’ll be in the van. Take your time, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your head before he left you. 

You felt nearly robotic, pushing down the aisles towards the diapers. The dirty looks were gone, they left with Eddie and Jude, but a suffocating feeling of guilt took its place. The woman’s words ringing in your ears, unfair to the baby. Maybe it was, your mind screamed, as you stood in line at the check out. Maybe it was unfair that you couldn’t afford the luxury swaddlers, or that you couldn’t even produce enough milk to feed Jude. Maybe your parents were right, you had made a mistake. 

“Do you have any coupons?” The teenage cashier dead panned, a bored look in her eyes as she pulled you from your thoughts. 

“Oh, yeah- yes, I do.” You muttered, flipping through Eddie’s wallet for the coupons you’d clipped out of the newspaper this week, handing them over with a shame you were unsure of. 

The cashier punched in the number, the register dinging as the total rolled over at the top. “Twelve- seventy-two.” She muttered. 

You pulled the ten dollar bill out, heart sinking as you flipped through the contents, the folds and flaps of Eddie’s leather wallet. Where was the five you put in here last night? You know you gave it to him- 

“Ma’am,” The cashier huffed. “It’s twelve-seventy-two.” 

“I-I know.” Your chest tightened, lungs constricting. “I-I know I had more. I-I’m sorry, I just- I know I put it in here-” 

“-Ma’am, if you don’t have enough-” 

“-No, I have enough.” You snapped, startling the cashier. “I just- I know I put it in here, just-  Are you sure you added the coupons?”

“Yes,” The cashier snapped. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest, ears ringing, hands trembling. “Lady, I’ve got a line. If you don’t have the money, I’m going to have to ask you to leave and you can come back when you have enough.” 

“I can’t-” You pressed your eyes shut, your voice shaking. “H-How much without the formula?” 

“Just the diapers?” The cashier huffed. “Eight dollars and seven cents.” 

“Fine. I-I’ll just get those.” You muttered, eyes cutting to the line behind you. 

“Just the diapers?” The cashier asked, brow lifting with annoyance. 

“Yes.” You muttered, hands shaking when you reached for the ten dollar bill, eyes pricking with tears.  

“That will be eight dollars and-” 

“-Add the formula back on.” A voice behind you said softly. 

You jumped, turning towards the woman behind you. “I’ll pay for them.” She said softly, giving you a gentle nod. 

“No, no, I-I couldn’t ask you-” 

“-You didn’t.” The woman shook her head, sliding the twenty dollar bill over to the cashier. “Everyone needs a little help every now and then, and I’m happy to help.” 

Your lip trembled, jaw clenching to keep in your tears. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, a barely there whisper that burned when it made its way out of your chest. 

“Don’t mention it.” The woman waved with a smile. “How old is your baby?” 

“T-Two months.” You croaked, sniffling back a wet sob. 

“A fun age.” She grinned. “Two months is great, but two years- ooh.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “That’s when they become little gremlins.” 

The cashier handed back the change, passing you the bagged formula and diapers. “Please, let me at least give you some money, an-and I can pay you back the rest by the end of the week, I swear.” You rambled, reaching for a pen off the counter, flipping your receipt over. “If you give me your name, an-and phone number, I’ll-” 

“-That’s not necessary, dear, I promise.” The woman shook her head at you lightly. “But if you don’t mind me asking, are you working?” 

Your chin ducked, spinning the pen around in your hands. “I-I waitress during the week at Benny’s. It’s been hard finding a job, because…” You looked down at the groceries, voice tightening in your throat. 

The woman nodded, reaching for the pen in your hands. “Well, if you’re interested in something else, I work at Vance Insurance and we’re looking for a receptionist.” She scribbled an address on the back of your receipt with her name- Sheila. “We just need someone young who knows how to work the phones, and can help us transfer calls, schedule appointments. Is that something you can do?” 

“I- Yes, I can do that.” You nodded furiously. 

“Wonderful.” Sheila grinned, passing the pen back to the cashier. “Stop in anytime this week and they’ll interview you. It’s a good starting place, good benefits- especially for a baby.” 

“Thank you,” Your eyes watered, brimming with tears that fell slowly down your cheeks. “I just- I can’t thank you enough, really, this is too kind-” 

“-Everyone needs help sometimes.” Sheila repeated gently. “I was you not too long ago, just needing some help. Like I said, I’m happy to help.” 

You nodded, clutching the receipt in your hands as you walked towards the sliding doors of the entrance. You held onto the receipt, buried it deep in your pocket until Monday morning. 

February 2nd, 1989

“Motherfucker,” Eddie hissed, ringed hand slapping down on the sticky table top. “A dollar?” 

“C’mon, ‘least it’s somethin’, right?” Darrel snickered from beside Eddie, bussing the booth next to him, emptied beer glasses splashing in the bin. “Could be nothin’ like that table before.” 

“Bunch of assholes,” Eddie grunted, shoving the dollar in his pocket. “Dude has a BMW and can’t tip more than a dollar?” 

“Those are the worst kinds, man.” Darrel shook his head. “Ones with the most are the stingiest.” 

“You’re tellin’ me.” Eddie scoffed, shoving the emptied bourbon glass in the bin. “That’s why I quit workin’ at Elroy’s.” 

“You quit at Elroy’s?” Darrel gaped. “When? I thought you just started that job, man, what happened?” 

“Psh, he’s a dick.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Had me doin’ all the dirty work, making nothing, while he’s making six figures and just sits there bitching at all of us nobodies.” Eddie shook his head. “I got sick of it. I’m not working for some asshole and making no money. Besides, it was cuttin’ into my time playing here.” 

Darrel nodded slowly, head shaking with a shrug. “Yeah, that’s… That’s tough, Ed.” He hummed. “What about the Mrs? She pissed at you for quitting another job.” 

“No,” Eddie snapped, far too quickly and too defensively for it to be true. Pissed was an understatement. You’d had a fight so big, so loud, the neighbors two trailers down had to come check on you. 

“This is the third job this year, Eddie!” You had roared, throwing your arms out. “How the fuck are we going to afford a house when you keep doing this shit?” 

“Will you relax? We’ll be fine, we’ve always been fine. I’ll find another-” 

“-We’ve always been fine because I have a job.” 

“Baby, when I make it big, you won’t have to work. I’ll take care of us- all of us, ok? I’m working on it. I’ve gotten a bunch of gigs in Indianapolis-” 

“-That don’t pay.” You sneered. “That you spend more money on gas to get to than you actually make-” 

“-You gotta spend a little money to make money, baby. That’s business!” Eddie huffed, throwing his hands up. It was the same fight, it always was. 

“Spend what money? My money?” You scoffed. “Taking money away from Jude so you can, what? Play pretend rockstar? Grow up, Eddie!” 

That had been three nights ago. You hadn’t talked to Eddie since then. He’d slept on the couch every night since the fight. 

“Look, I-I got another job lined up.” Eddie bristled, shaking his head, trying to drown out your cruel words still ringing in his head. “I’m playing for Oktoberfest at this bar in Indianapolis. There’s gonna be a shit ton of people there, and who knows? Could be a producer or someone there to sign us. The guy over there said they’re always coming in from Chicago, seeing what talent is around.” 

“Oh, it’s a gig?” Darrel looked at him, not nearly as excited as Eddie thought he would be. “Not a job.” 

“I mean, yeah, it’s both-” 

“-You’re gettin’ paid?” Darrel lifted a brow. 

“Yeah, it’s not- it’s not much. Like fifty bucks, but that’s not with tips, and they cover my tab for the night.” Eddie stuttered defensively. It sounded like a much better deal when the owner pitched it to him. 

Darrel nodded slowly, fingers tapping on the bin. “Well, good luck then.” He muttered, wiping down the table. “But, uh, if there’s not a producer or whatever, you know my cousin is still looking for help with his HVAC business. If you’re ever looking for anything.” 

Eddie’s chest burned with furious heat, scoffing as he pulled away, moving to the next table. Who the fuck does he think he is? Eddie fumed, jaw set tight, teeth grinding with fury. 

The rest of the night wasn’t better, despite the crowd. Eddie pocketed a solid thirty-seven dollars, and some change an asshole at the corner booth left. He cut it down thirty-six dollars before he made it home, stopping by the liquor store for a pack of Camels. 

Eddie was surprised the living room light was still on when he came in, quietly shutting the door in case you and Jude were asleep on the couch again. 

“Baby,” Eddie whispered, creeping into the room. He found you sitting, awake, on the couch, arms crossed over your chest, eyes red rimmed and glassy. 

“Oh, I thought you were asleep.” Eddie muttered, voice still hushed as he shook off his jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch. 

Your lips pursed, arms still tight across your chest. “Jude is with Wayne tonight.” You said, though your voice didn’t carry the usual purr it did when you’d told him that before. Tonight, it was filled with icy malice. 

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie grinned, leaning over the couch towards you, arms wrapping around your frame, face pressing into your neck. “Good. I’ve had the worst fuckin’ day, and I’ve missed you. Missed sleepin’ in the bed with you, baby.” His lips tugged at your ear lobe, teeth grazing your skin. 

“Stop, we’re not…” You huffed, pushing him off you gently, standing from the couch. “We need to talk, Eddie.” 

Eddie’s heart dropped, sinking deep in the pit of his stomach. “Talk? About what?” His shoulders slumped, gripping the back of the couch with an exhale of exhaustion. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it when I said that. I was just pissed, and… C’mon, you know I’d never really mean tha-” 

“-I’m pregnant.” Your words echoed through the small living room of the trailer, a silence settling around the two of you after that. 

Eddie’s mouth opened then closed, words strangled in his throat. “Pregnant?” Suddenly he was eighteen again, heart stilled in his chest, ears ringing with what he was sure was delusion. 

“What- I mean, how- No, I-I know how, I just…” Eddie swallowed around the thick lump in his throat, head spinning with the news. “That’s-That’s great.” 

Your choked sob startled him, left him flinching as your hand moved to your mouth, muffling your cries. “Hey, hey, what’s- Baby, don’t cry.” Eddie soothed, his voice calmer now than it was four years ago. 

Your wet cheeks pressed into his shirt, the overwhelming scent of stale cigarettes making you retch and gag. He should have known you were pregnant a week ago, when he’d slipped in the bed beside you after a night shift at The Hideout and you had gagged, shoved him out of the bed and told him to shower. “I can smell smoke in your hair, Ed. It’s giving me a headache.” 

He let you go, back away from him with a cry that turned into a gag that faded into a cough then back to a sob. “What’s wrong?” Eddie hesitated, his hands reaching out to you then back to his sides, unsure of what to do. “Why-Why are you crying? Are you not- I mean, hey, at least we’re married this time and… and adults.” 

He thought the little joke he made might calm you down, soothe you a little, not send you into another wave of sobs. Face crumbling, shoulders shaking with tears. “What- Why are you crying?” Eddie’s brows furrowed, reaching out for you. “Are you- Are you not happy?” 

“No,” You spat, sniffing back a wet cry. “I mean, yes but…” Your teary eyes met his, lip shaking with a cry you tried to swallow. “I-I don’t think it’s the ri-right time.” 

Eddie frowned. “Well, it’s a little late for that, sweetheart.” His hand rubbed over your arm soothingly. “What’s the matter, hm? What’s got you upset? This should be a good thing.” 

“Should be,” You spat with a wet sob. “Eddie, we barely make it as it is, and…and we’re never going to be able to afford two kids when you won’t stay at a job.” Your breath hitched, the harsh truth you’d kept in for months finally tumbling out, laying on him thickly in the room. 

Eddie’s lips pursed, tightened in a straight line. “I have a job.” 

“The Hideout is not a job.” You countered. “Not one that can support two kids, Eddie, be serious.” 

“I am being serious.” Eddie crossed his arms defensively. “And it’s not my main job, anyways, you know that.” You fought back an eye roll, the tears flooding your vision instead. 

“Baby, I know it doesn’t pay much right now, but all I need is one chance, ok? One time, just someone out there hearing me play, and-and then everything will change. We’ll be set for life. More than set.” Eddie gushed, reaching out to hold you. 

His eyes were wide, wild with the same excitement they were years ago, when he’d first told you his dream of being a rockstar. But that was before- before Jude, before you’d gotten married, before reality hit you in the face and knocked you on your feet. Before you’d become bitter with the harsh realization that dreams were for the lucky few, and that you weren’t. 

“I can’t…” You pressed a hand to your mouth, taking a deep breath you hoped would calm your nerves, settle your stomach. “Eddie, I- we don’t have time for one day. We have a family right now.” Your tear stained eyes met his. 

“I can’t afford to live off a dream that may happen.” Your lips pressed together, swallowing back a cry. 

Eddie’s face fell, and you could practically see his heart shattering. “What-What are you saying?” 

“That you need to grow up.” Your tone clipped, bitter and cold in the echo of the room. “You have a kid- two, now, an-and it’s not fair to them that they suffer because you want to chase down a dream that might happen.” 

Eddie’s heart sunk, burning with a soul crushing ache he hadn’t felt in years. “What? You think I can’t make it? That-That I’m not good enough?” 

Your eyes closed, taking in a deep, calming breath to steady yourself. “I never said that.” You looked at him. “Maybe if… if things would have been different, you could go out every night an-and play wherever and do whatever, but they’re not. We have Jude and another on the way, and…” 

There was a pause, neither one of you sure how to fill it, what to say. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, willing your tears down. “You have to choose, Eddie.” Your voice shook gently, uncertainty filling each syllable. “If you want to go and make it big, fine, but I am not going to keep bankrolling your trips. Either get a job and grow up and be a father, or go be a rockstar.” 

“That’s so fucked.” Eddie scoffed. “You know that? That is so fucked, and-and manipulative and- You know I love you and Jude, and I’d do anything-” 

“-Then go get a job.” You snapped. “Go get a job and grow up, Eddie. Grow up and be an adult. Stop quitting every five seconds because something is mildly uncomfortable. Do you think I’m happy all the time at my job? No, but I stay because I have to, for Jude and for you.” 

Eddie swallowed back the burn of tears that built in the back of his throat, embarrassment maybe anger spilling hot out of his chest. “It’s time to grow up, Eddie.” Your eyes couldn’t meet his as you walked towards the door. “The choice is yours.” 

Eddie’s fists balled when you shut the bedroom door, stalking towards the front door, slamming it so hard behind him the trailer shook. He fished for his keys, yanking the van door open. You heard the gravel flying, the squeal of the tires following when he tore out of the drive. You squeezed your eyes together, letting out a pathetic sob in the still and silent room. 

Hours later, long after you’d cried yourself to sleep, you felt the bed dip. You smelled the smoke before you felt him, sliding next to you under the sheets, Eddie’s hands finding your waist. 

“I called Darrel.” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the room, his voice hoarse with emotion. “His cousin said I could start Monday.” 

You turned, blinking with burning eyes, still raw from tears. “Really?” You croaked. 

Eddie swallowed before he nodded, and you pretended not to notice the way his lip shook. “You’re right. I…I need to grow up and be a man- be a better husband and father to Jude and the baby.” His voice was tight. 

Your words rang through Eddie’s head every day he got up, dragging himself out of bed and to work. What started as a motivating mantra, something he’d chant in his mind to get him through the tiresome shifts slowly became tainted, fading into a bitter, mocking reminder. Every time he’d pass by The Hideout, seeing the next gaggle of wannabe rockers on stage. Every time the radio would play a new band, someone his age who had gotten lucky, been at the right place at the right time and got discovered. He’d stew over it, fuming about how that could have been him. Resentment building that he tried to swallow down, the painful reminder of what could have been.

[hidtired]

Love Burns

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Some way somehow you crawled your way back from death. All to get back into the arms of one man. Daryl and the rest of the group were taking your death hard, your death was gruesome. So your disheveled arrival back to them was unfathomable… (Duel POVs)

6.1k words

Fall felt like winter. In a place made of concrete it was decided something needed to be done before winter truly came. The prison still needed a lot of work but with the new people of Woodbury things were getting done a lot faster. Only thing lacking was supplies. So a team was round up to go to a near hardware warehouse. Glenn, Maggie, Rick, Daryl, You, Carol, Sasha, Tyrese, and a few Ex Woodbury people headed out for as much as they all could carry. It was Hershel who suggested that this was dire because someone could get sick and that was supplies we just couldn’t spare. So… this wasn’t all for nothing. This run was the greater good for the prison. Even if it all went wrong by dusk. Even if it cost your life.

Almost all the cars had been full of things. It was decided to send a few of the new people back to empty their trucks and comeback. The chill was numbing everyone’s hands as they moved things back and forth. A fire was started inside the chain link fence. The U haul parked close to it to blocked the wind. Daryl had taken his bike, the psycho. But you had to admit the leather jacket he now wore looked good on him. You and Daryl, still no label but something was there. If the time spent cuddling him every chance you got inside the cellblock said anything. Always using the excuse you were cold, which wasn’t wrong. You’ve both kissed but that had happened only a few times. The only reason you had both gotten so close was the time spent after the farm fell.

It was decided in your mind after this run you would put all your card on the table. So while you were in the warehouse grabbing future farm tools Daryl walked past you making you turn and speak, “Hey, wanna share what little whiskey I have left when we get back.” Daryl turned a small smirk barely noticeably, he grunted before speaking, “Bring out booze? Must be a special occasion.” You glance away then back to him, gathering courage, “Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.” You smiled and walked past him with your head held high mimicking confidence. Little did you know you made the hair on the back of his neck stand and his heart beat just that much faster.

Finally dusk was fast approaching and everyone was gathered around the fire discussing before getting ready to leave. You sat staring into the fire half listening to the chatter of everyone. You had your arms around yourself trying to stop the wind. You were playing out things in your mind to say to Daryl. Trying to develop a way to get your feelings across. Strange how things escalate to life or death. Your peaceful gaze into the now hot coals was interrupted with sounds of gun shots drowned with screams and sounds of the dead marching. It was damn unlucky to have had two herds merge into each other at the warehouse. It was frantic but quick. You had been left to put of the fires. You had waited by the last smoldering one to beat the cold before all of you departed. When the gun fire and screams started you hadn’t thought to look behind you with all the action in front of you.

You heard a thunk before you felt something fall on top of you pulling you to the ground by your legs. You kicked and thrashed killing the walker that snuck up on you. However you noticed a wave of walkers now pulled down a part of the fence with their eyes dead set on you. A few slipping out of through holes in the fence. You unhooked your side arm from its place on your thigh. Pulling the knife you apparently stuck into the walker that jumped you. You look all around you trying to navigate options. But the situation that had originally got your attention also seemed to escalate with another wave of walkers come from every direction. That’s when your awareness made you freeze all together. A pain to your side close to your back. Lifting the layers of your cloths a mark of teeth bleed.

You had been bite.

Ice filled your veins, fear. Your grip tightened on your weapons. You stare as walkers closed the distance. Your name rung in your ears. Daryl scream for your attention, you slowly turned to him. He was a distance away behind a fence with others who seemed to escape the first wave they’d met. Even if you hadn’t been bite to may blocked your way to run into any means of safety. Daryl waved his hands trying beckon you to run to him. He looked like he was going to jump the already bending fence to get to you. Other faces you recognized to be the family you had found yelling in panic along with Daryl’s. You slowly pulled your shirt turning to them. Blood ran down dripping into your pants from the deathly injury. Others seeming to realize what had happened.

“NOOOOOOO!”

The pained yell Daryl had ripped out from himself being followed by the snapping fence falling to the pressure of the herd. Daryl still stood even with the danger coming to him, Rick clearly holding him back with Glenn running over to help drag him away. You smiled at Daryl some tears running down your face, probably the last Daryl will see it as his face disappeared from your sight. You turned around to the herd closer to you. A few walkers had gotten closer to you than you thought. This was your last stand. You fired gunshot after gunshot while managing to kill some with your knife. You tripped on one of the bodys you had put down. You fell expecting to quickly get back up and continue your count down to death bringing any dead bastard with you. But a flare of unexpected pain at your landing made a blood curdling scream vibrate into the air. You had landed into the fire pit. Hot coals with little flame burning you. Ambers exploding around you with your fall. Your open wound on your side sizzles adding more pain to the specific area. You instinctively jumped up away from the pit. Groaning while you forced yourself to stand vision blurred and legs wobbling.

It’s funny… to know you’re about to die. You could never imagine the things to go through your mind until it happens. Your past didn’t flash before your eyes. More thoughts of the future. How will people take your death? Maybe If this didn’t happen then how would you fit into there future. What if you had that drink with Daryl… That pushed you to now. Right now. You woke up. Groggy cold and numb. The smell of death strong. You weren’t sure if maybe you were a walker maybe it was all a dream.

The haze lifted with a spike of your adrenaline as your eyes focus. A walker close to your face with your knife jammed into its head. A gasp filled your lungs, you weren’t dead? You were lying on your stomach under the U haul nearly freezing. The body of walkers all around you seemed to be your insulation. You take in the scene around you, then you do the only logical thing, cry. A sob ripped from you, tears streaming down your now dirt covered face that was laying in the dirt. You were scared, in pain, and alone. It seemed like the only thing you could really do and have the mind to do. In the small gaps that walkers didn’t cover a slight glow came. You pushed through the body’s crawling between them until fresh air hit you. Dark gray clouds hung above you.

The night had passed while you were under the truck. You caught sight of the littered bodys around the area. It was quiet. Not a soul or other wise empty vessel around. You attempted to stand but fell when you became light headed and unbalanced. Another attempt had lead you slowly to your feet. You were covered in dirt. You could only think you were rolling around in it while keeping walkers away from you under the car. The longer you were awake the more you came back to yourself. A hand slowly moved to your forehead. You were cold but shouldn’t you have a fever by now? At the thought you moved some of the fabric from your bite only stopping when your cloths were singed to your body. Were the bite was now was left with a deep embedded scorch marks. Coals had seemed to burned you up to your shoulder and down to your hip on you left side.

The sight of it made you gag but you couldn’t feel a thing from it. The burns must have destroyed the nerves. If the infection of being bite wasn’t going to kill you the infection sure to come from this wound would. A flare of life filled you. A broken chuckle passed your lips filling the dead silence. You need Hershel badly and soon if you wanted a chance to live. A chance was better than what you had thought. You slowly turn around to the U hale in hopes you could drive it back but the tires were blown and a rainbow like liquid had formed a puddle. You probably shot at walkers while under there damaging the car. Like damaging the gas tank and somehow not exploding so you’ll take that win. No that meant you just had to walk several miles back to the prison. Suddenly you remembered you weren’t bond to the roads so maybe you were closer then you thought.

So you took off north into the woods, hopeful and better yet alive.

Daryl POV

Of course nothing ever goes smoothly and this damn run was no exception. It was so close, they were all packed and ready to go. A herd coming didn’t seem like a big deal just alerting them there was no time to dilly dally. So after killing a few and saving people who got surprised by it they stood behind a chain fences that wasn’t going to hold for long the more that pushed against it. Daryl’s eyes flickered to everyone behind the fence. Panic now felt when his eyes didn’t meet yours. He turned back around frantically until he say you standing facing what looked to be another herd. His eyes widened and your name was flying out of his mouth before he even knew he was doing it. You just stood there, not even in a defensive posture, just casually. Your head turned to meet his after hearing him.

Tears ran down your face but your face remained to looked shocked. Maybe you froze in panic so he gestured for you to come quickly but you didn’t move. Soon others joined in calling for you. But when you moved and lifted your shirt he felt like he was sinking. Blood dripped down your side and teeth were imprinted in your skin. His eyes flicked back up to yours to see you smiling at him. He was screaming and moving without a thought.

“NOOOOOOOO!”

A hand grabbed his shirt and then the fence in front of them fell. He still tried moving forward even then but other sets of hands now pulled him backwards. He grunted and gasped still looking at you as he was moved away. The smile on your face directed at him. The look in your eyes saying so many words that he didn’t have the time to decipher in the moment. He didn’t know the words coming from his mouth but he was yelling. For whoever holding him to let him help you in curses and cry’s. When he lost sight of you is when he faltered. More people seemed to be dragging him now. A gunshot went off making him jump in his skin along with the others around him. Sound now processing in his ears. Maggie sobbing along with muffled crying from others.

Everyone had assumed that gunshot was you giving yourself mercy. Then more came making him start dragging his heels again. You were fighting, you were bring some of the herd on them back to you. He was going to fight to get to you. But he froze along with the people clawing him backwards. You were screaming. No you were dying and they all were hearing it. It was guttural and sudden like you were surprised. He was yelling in tears now, “NOOO PLEASE-“ his words jumping starting people again to pull him away. Your pained cries fading when he was pulled into a car. Tyrese was the one locking him in place. Rick driving with Michonne in the passenger side leaning over like she was going to be sick.

Daryl was now desperate to grab air in his lungs as has he went limp in Tyrese grasp. His gasps filled with the now humming engine felt like he was spiraling. Sounds muffled and thoughts racing. ‘Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.’ The feeling from the words originally was like butterflies, now it was hornets. You always wiggled your away into his arms. Excuses of ‘it’s cold.’ or ‘But you’re always so warm.’ He knew for some reason you had taken interest in him. You had lit some dumb teenage feeling in him. Thoughts of you always crossing his mind throughout the day. Hopes of you trying to make your way into his space later in the day. The first time you fell asleep on him was when you crawled in his lap during watch and shivered endlessly while he held you. He continued to watch gaze flickering through trees while holding you and he knew deep down he was screwed.

The fear that kept him away and doubting had come true. He watched trees go by through the window in silence. Tyrese still holding him as he was lying across the seats. Like he would jump out the moving vehicle if given the chance. Even though he didn’t act on his feeling he had still loved you. He felt cold inside. The cold that would have drawn you to him. He will never hold you to him again. His hands trembled to his face and covered his eyes. Your screams echoing in his mind, your sad loving smile played into his mind. His palms dug into his eyes and he cried. His tears breaking seemed to trigger those around him. He heard Rick holding his breath as he sniffled. Michonne would occasionally suck in a gasp. Tyrese trembled with sighs and coughs trying to break the growing ball in his throat.

Eventually making it back to the prison Carl swung the gate open happily for two cars and Carol riding on Daryl’s bike. The unsuspecting grief hadn’t reached the prison but when they got out of the cars it was felt in waves. They were still seemed lost in thoughts, or lost in a moment. Carl looked on to his father who held is head down and hands on his hips. Maggie making her way to her father and cried silently when he hugged her with Glenn close by eyebrows furrowed in pain. When looking at Daryl it was clear to who they lost. He was stock still and pale, in shock. Hershel practically herded them into the cell block. Carol tried to come near him while walking there but he just shock his head and pushed past her.

They sat in silence sitting at the tables they had their breakfast just this morning. Daryl leaned on the wall keeping his distance. Rick was standing and looking on to everyone hunched in to themselves. Judith in his arms was probably the only reason Daryl didn’t go into a berserk rage. Though when Rick started retelling what had happened to the other that weren’t there he was gettin close to it. Nails digging into his palms and teeth clenched he still listened.

“Y/n’s gone… We were just about ready to go when a herd spooked us.” Rick sighed now looking to everyone’s face. “We had gotten behind a fence and Y/N was putting fires out…” Beth had clear tears now growing in her eyes as she listened. “We think a separate herd flanked us but we were so busy with the first to notice. She was across from us with a herd closing in from behind and in front of her. She could have possibly made it… if-“ he cleared is throat starting again. “If she didn’t lift her shirt showing us she was already doomed. I don’t know when or how, but she was bite.” Rick paused then chuckled wetly, “She had to go out being a badass, could hear it in my mind ‘Was it cool at least?’ Always theatrics with that one.” The thought bubbles in Daryl’s stomach, ‘she always said if she was ever going out it was in a blaze of glory, nothing “lame”.’ Daryl leaned forward off the wall moving to pass by everyone. Everyone had stilled at his movement but he just walked into the cell block.

He needed a minute, to cope, scream, cry, yell, he didn’t know but he felt like he was dying. He found his way up the stairs and pushing past the stupid Dino sheets you chose for your room. ‘They’re not ugly! We have a lot more in common with are extinct friends now. Though I would have preferred a meteor…’ He stared at everything that had been left where you had it. He stumbled to sit on the edge of your bed looking around. You had so many weird thing… you were so weird. A now deflated happy birthday ballon he remembered you yelling, ‘JACKPOT’ when you found it scavenging. Then his eyes locked onto a bottle of whiskey. It was not even half full but when he saw it tears started falling quietly. He picked it up and held it to his chest.

“Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.” That sentence would haunt him forever.

Your POV

You groaned like the dead as you made your way through the woods. Speaking of the dead they didn’t much notice you. That had made you spiral in the whole am I really a walker?! But then you remember you were covered in dirt and blood and walking like you had a few to many. You were starting to feel warm putting you into a cold sweat. It was hard to not think that maybe the bite was still going to kill you. You had burnt it with the rest of your back to hell. You probably look like you crawled out from hell. The thought made you dazily laugh out loud. Ok so maybe you were delirious. If that manic laugh that bubbled from you wasn’t any indication. You weren’t thinking straight. Only moving in the direction you think is to the prison? God you could go for some pasta right about now, Olive Garden salad and bread sticks… damn. Little mint at the end. You trip out of your thoughts slamming into the forest floor with a groan.

It had snapped you back into a clearer head space. Your vision swam a little but you started to push yourself back up. So turns out your near death thoughts weren’t as epic as you thought they were going to be, just bread sticks and mints. You sighed looking around trying to gain your bearings. You could hear some water to your right meaning you were indeed going the right way. Just 20 more minutes and you were back to the prison. You wonder if you could have had a dinner date with Daryl. I suppose you still could if you didn’t die. The poor man had tried running into a herd for you. You were getting more unbalanced as you walked leaning from tree to tree. Wood splitting and jamming into your hands, only adding to a list of injures. The worst part was you didn’t feel much of anything pain wise. The cold numbed you and your lack of cognitive ability was no better help.

The stream broke off flowing into the direction of the prison. You saw the bridge that held the water pump before the prison. You somehow managed to get back here. The prison was still quieter than normal. You could see closer to the gate a few people were clearing walkers, vision to bleary to know who. A thunk sounded coming into the middle of the inclosed clearing. Rick was cutting wood with Carl moving logs for him to cut. Slowly making your way to the fence you didn’t realize your throat was so scratchy, nothing but a huff of air coming out. That’s right, you had been screaming…. and crying. You lean into the fence hands intertwined with the cool dewy metal.

A walker was pushed against the fence to your right staring to Rick and Carl too. You slowly push down to the floor grabbing a stick. You pushed back up using the fence to walk closer to the walker. Taking a deep breath you kicked the back of the walkers legs making it fall to its knees. The walker grumbled in shock or protest but it was silence with the stick shoved in its eyes. The constant noise of the walker was acknowledged by the Grimes so when it abruptly stopped they looked over to where it was. You were leaning into the side of the fence as you heard feet approaching, “Who are- Holy shit!” You heard them running and the sound got farther from you. The heavy gate door grunted open and the running sound came back toward you. You tried moving along the fence, tripping yet again on the walker, this time only to your knees.

A shadow fell over you causing you to look up seeing Rick kneeling in front of you, hands moving to pull you up. Your adrenaline was dropping now that the task you set for yourself was complete. The fall made your head swim, voices now muffled as blood pulled into your head. You saw Rick talking but didn’t comprehend anything he said. He soon pointed at Carl and your eyes moved over to the boy. Walkers had made their way out of the woods at the commotion. You suddenly were being jostled now. Rick had put an arm to the back of your shoulders and his other arm to the back of your knees and lifted you into him. You were slightly over Rick’s shoulder as he quickly moved. Then you realized what Rick was yelling.

“HERSHEL! HERSHEL! HERSHEL!”

That was right, you wanted Hershel to help you… help you? What for again? Your mind clicked as you watched the door of the gate close behind you. Some faces now appeared as Rick continued to carry while trying not to dig his hands into your injury. You had been injured, right. Some looks you caught while over Rick shoulder was nothing you’ve seen direct at yourself. The group formed shuffling to the gate to get into the court yard. You recognized Maggie gasping and her saying, “Oh my god is she alive?! H-how?” You rumbled out a deep noise. “Cause I’m a badass.” You were becoming slack and your vision was blurring. You were trying to remain awake. Maybe for the face you so desperately wanted to see, and the other part of you was afraid you wouldn’t wake back up. But at last you involuntarily relaxed as you heard him, “Y/N!” His voice was pained and dry, but it sent a smile to your face before you went still as Rick continued moving you.

Daryl POV

He fell asleep in your bed. Selfishly taking in what little smell was left of your space. The whiskey bottle was held to his chest untouched. He kept waking up ever hour. He felt wrong like something was missing. His body knew that you weren’t with him and it made him restless. He would think about your screams feeling like he still heard them. He would play back random moments with you. He just couldn’t seem to move. Stuck laying down holding the bottle you both were going to share, stuck going in and out of consciousness. He was depressed he realized. It was the norm for his sadness to spark rage but he just felt defeated. With Merle he got angry, upset even. But he could still move. His world was still moving then but now he wasn’t sure how it kept spinning with you gone.

Everyone was already moving through the day doing tasks that needed to be completed. He heard the shuffles and whispers of his friends- his family. He would hear someone’s breath hitch while talking about you. He was left alone with Glenn being the one saying, “Leave the man alone.” With other things like, ‘when Lori died-‘ or, ‘if it had been Maggie I’d be the same.’ He would thank the man on another day. So here he is still, morning coming to pass, in your bed staring at the ceiling. He tried to not think about how you might be a walker wondering or even worse your body was still there. He would have to push himself up to that. But the silence around the prison seemed to have broke.

The heavy door that lead in from out doors slammed opened and a panicked Maggie nervously yelled for her father. “D-Daddy somethings wrong Rick’s yelling for you!” Daryl’s hearing perked up feeling the pit in his stomach drop further. Dread seeping into him, ‘Another bad thing was happening.’ He heard the clicking of Hershel’s crutch’s as he moved through the door that Maggie’s had burst through. Daryl squeezed his eyes shut before sucking in a breath in and huffing it out. He got up.

He got to his feet moving down the stairs buzzing with adrenaline. Not sure if he was going to have to protect people or kill someone. As Daryl pushed through the metal door to the court yard an icy wind blew through him. The hair on the back of his neck stood. He turned over to the commotion gathering by the gate to the yard. Scanning the area he didn’t see danger so he made his way over to the group. “Oh my god is she alive?! H-how?” Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed as he got closer over hearing people now.

“Cause I’m a badass.”

Although the voice was deep and scratchy he froze at the familiar voice. He only paused for a moment before he started running the rest of the way there, “Y/N!” His voice was slightly harsh with dis use and the ball of tension in his throat didn’t help much either. You were being held up in a weird way by Rick but you sluggish turned drooping slightly as you did. When your eyes met you smiled but it slowly fell as you went slack. Rick was moving again with the demands of Hershel yelling orders to Carol and Maggie to gather things. Daryl saw your cloths, burnt holes and black and red covered you. Your skin stuck sticking to fabric as deep char marks riddled your back and side. He was speechless as the group passed him but he still followed. Maybe he fell asleep again and was dreaming all this.

“I need disinfectant and a bucket of clean water!”

Rick had set you down on your stomach in an unused cell. Your arm dangled over edge swaying. He stood the watching in shock. People were scrambling around him. He didn’t realize he had gotten the bottle still in his hands before he looked down and walked over practically shoving it into the man’s arms. Daryl was wide eyed as he watched your still form, “Daryl I need you to cut off her clothes. Be careful of her shirt.” A hand clasped to his shoulder finally clicking everything into place. His hand had moved for his knife and he slowly cut down right side on a seam. He slowly plead the shirt from you. It would stick then tug and pull off of you making him cringe. Hershel started talking again as Daryl moved to pull down your jeans.

“You said she was bite?” Daryl let your pants fall to the floor as he looked back up to the side he had seen it. Your entire side was indented and black. Some black circles were higher up to your shoulders as your enter left side seemed to have taken most of the burns. He pointed to were he had last saw the bite. “It was here- shit she fell into the fire pit.” The screams he heard played back into his mind. The pain and surprise that had ripped from you. Hershel now with a cloth and water started cleaning the area removing the grim, “That means she might have stopped the spread of the infection with how deep these burns are.” Hershel paused looking over her body. He then put a hand to your forehead, “She’s warm but not feverish…” Hershel grabbed the bottle of whiskey again turning to Daryl and popping the lid of,

“Get out of here Daryl. Maggie! Carol! I need hands!”

He watched as the two girls push past him and before he was out of sight from you saw Hershel dump some of the alcohol onto the area. He stepped out turning to see worried and confused faces. They stared at him silently with the background noise of Hershel making demands of his helpers. Sasha almost whispered her question to him, "How is she still alive?" Everyone turned to her before looking at him expectantly as the wondered the same. Daryl looked like he was visibly thinking before he sighed, "I don't know. She fell in the fireplace is all I know." Rick looked to the floor nodding thinking back to when he first saw you and struggled to pick you up around what looked to be burns. Daryl spoke again almost hopefully, "Hershel thinks there's a chance she stop the infection from spreading with how deep the burns are."

Hopeful gasps filled the air. Carl was the next to speak almost as a demand, "Then we going to use all are medical supplies we've got if there is a chance." Rick whispered, "Carl..." but Beth jumped in. "W-we have it for reasons like these! I know she is technically bite but we have no clue if she stopped it, its worth splurging to see if this could save others!" Rick looked surprised at the outburst mouth opening about to speak before Glenn jumped in also pleading to him, "Well find more!" Other silently agreeing and nodding. Daryl looked between the group so determined about your life smirking at it even but, he knew what Rick was trying to say. Sure enough the man had chuckled shacking his head, "Why are you all looking at me for, I'm not the leader anymore. This is a matter for the council. But I think that decision has already been made." It had only started not to long ago with Rick being the stand in while everyone settled on who the council consisted of. Michonne clapped her hands together, "Right is has been settled then, what ever cost to keep her alive." It was a waiting game now.

Days pass with the prison fueled with a hope. The once depressive air had lifted once Hershel declared you stable and with no fever. It was determined until a day later with still no fever you were not infected. The only problem now way you had yet to wake up. The girls had cleaned you of all the caked on dirt from your skin and hair they best they could with you unconscious and your injury. Daryl with any of his free time was by your side. He even took to sleeping in the bunk above you. He changed your bandage most of the time. You were on the your third IV by the 5th day. Daryl had a chair pulled by your side as he fiddled with his crossbow and bolts, your steady breathing having a calming effect on him. The breathing pattern faltered for a second making him look up to you. He stared for a moment before you seemed to grunt in pain. The hair was rising on the back of his neck. Hazy eyes open and your cuffed hand attempted to move but was halted by it be attached to the metal bed frame in the wall.

Daryl felt his heart race as he watched you slowly and groggily start moving. He reached to stopping your hand from moving with his own. "Hey, stay down." You groaned pain probably hitting you finally making Daryl call for Hershal. The clicking of crutch’s came closer but he looked back down to you at your sudden silence. Your eyes met with his and in that moment you saw straight into his soul making him feel exposed. All his nerves seemed to stand on end with your quiet gaze. A small smile creeping it way on your face. Daryl leaned down moving some hair from your face as you remained on your stomach. When he was crouched closer to you he whispered, “Hey darlin’…” You huffed out air and a tear ran down your cheek. He was smiling down at you feeling the weight of deaths grip finally releasing you back to him.

Hershel broke the moment but he never stopped holding your hand as the older man fussed over you. Your voice was rough to say the least. He winched at your first attempt at using it. “iM aLivE…?” Daryl squeezed your hand and the ball in his throat suck to his chest as he let out a chuckle. You seemed just as surprised of the fact just like them. You hissed before flinching forcibly relaxing your muscles but you still spoke again, “tHe BiTe?” Hershel had moved injecting something in your IV bag, pain killers hopefully. Your eyes barely following the movement as Hershel spoke calmly with a smile, “You’ve been out for a few days. No fever. We are working on the burns because they are festering but blistering. You killed the infection.” Your eyes squeezed shut and you sniffled a little tears poured from your eyes in relief. Daryl couldn’t help for his eyes to blur a little to. A hand fell to his shoulder, Hershel. “Her blood pressure is still low so keep her lying down. Try and fed her something small for now until she is up right.”

With that he hobbled away probably going to spread the good news that you are up. His attention snapped back to you when he heard a faint whisper of his name, “daryl.” You had a dopey grin as you stare up at him making the knotted ball in his stomach loosen. You smile falter and a harsh sounding, “woOaH-“ your eyes blinking like your vision got blurry. He intertwined his fingers behind yours as he keyed open the cuffs. “goDdaMn…. HaRdcorE dRugS hEllo~” Daryl chuckled seeing you sag in relief. Your eyes moved to something behind him a long, “hEeeY…” your lips pouting. He turned around questioningly at what you were staring at. The bottle of now empty whiskey, aah. He turned back to you running his free hand into your hair, “Don’t look at me I didn’t drink it.” You stare at the bottle softly saying, “How wiLl I woe a DiXon nOw?”

Daryl sighs feeling that ever burning in his chest when it comes to you. “Don’t think you need to worry to much about that, think he is beyond woed.” You dawn a familiar smirk he knows means trouble. ‘Mmm’ vibrates from your chest, “Good… been really laying it on thick as of late. Hell crawled back from death for the guy.” Your voice seemed to not rattle in your hushed tone. You seemed to struggle to keep your eyes open and focus you spoke once more before closing your eyes and falling to drugs and exhaustion, “So much for not using the med supply like Hershel said…”

Love burns with either the loss of them or the fact they exist in the first place, but you would say the fireplace hurt a tad bit more than loving your gruff hunter.

Feedback welcome and requests open!

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

honey, are you comin’?

previous part: sweet talkin’ | from the hive: session 1

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which benny finds honey again. this time near a honeycomb, hopin’ for a taste on the road ;) (p.s.: if you were wonderin’, yes — the title of this was so inspired by måneskin)

warnings: not much of anything besides some minor talks of cruelty towards children, peeps being judgmental as hell, & smoking. they’re subtly flirting here basically. it’s cute! that’s really it. x

author’s note: oh my goodness! you have no idea how STUNNED i’ve been by all the love miss.honey!benny have been getting so far. fully was not expecting this. deadass wrote sweet talkin’ for fun. no thoughts, head empty type beat. just wanted to thank you honeys so so much. i can’t thank ya enough i fear! i literally still can’t wrap my head around this, but i love you all sm & can’t wait to share more with you! 🍯🐝🫶

word count: 2.7k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

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Another unbearable wave of heat managed to remain the very next day. Your students squirming against their metal chairs, antsy as ever for a reprieve. And so were you too. Thankfully, it just so happened to be your turn as fellow recess monitor with one or your fellow co-workers, Miss. Margie. Marge just so happened to be a newly breaded fresh faced teacher just like yourself. You enjoyed her company, more so than the older teachers who were rather cruel to the students. Especially when they did something wrong. Marge wasn’t cruel so to speak but she was a tough cookie, putting her foot down when needed. You two as a duo were rather perfect for the school grounds. You as the comfort go to when a knee was scraped, and Marge as the tough love go to when a particular student needed a stern talking to.

You worked well together, and it showed. Your relief was rather prominent when you stepped out the back door near the playground. An immediate swarm of giggles and chatter from small voices buzzed about, and you couldn’t help but smile as you adjusted your eyes to the sun, protected under your heart shaped sunnies. It didn’t take you long to find Marge who was already planted near the monkey bars with her arms crossed over her chest like a drill sergeant. Considering her father’s status as a war vet, by no means was it shocking to you or anyone else for that matter to see her in such a state.

“Hi Margie,” you greeted her once materialized next to her. “How’s it goin’?”

Margie's clear concentration dropped at the sound of your voice. “Oh no wonder,” she commented without looking at you. Her brows shot up in genuine intrigue.

Your honey coated lips parted in confusion instantly. “Huh?”

“Your three o’clock, Hun.” Margie tilted her head to the right subtly, directing you to her line of sight. A sight that made your heart curl into itself in a warm beat. Right behind those chain-linked fences that kept the kids contained was Uncle Benny. Yet, today his status as Uncle appeared to be rather amiss. Instead of Johnny’s car flanked near the curb, he was leaning against a neat Harley Davidson. The same one you saw him on that mornin’. You figured he was dropping off the girls or somethin’, but your curiosity got the better of you when you saw Mrs. Davis with them instead.

Now in the no parking zone, he stood out like the sorrest of thumbs. Practically a puzzle piece thrown into the wrong box. With no thoughts behind those pretty blue eyes of his besides you.

“That biker of yours stood up like a torpedo as soon as you walked out,” your co-worker added.

You took a moment to adjust your glasses, moving them to the tip of your nose to get a better look. Sure as shit, you weren’t having a heat stroke. It was really him. He was still here. Had he been out here since the mornin’ or left to come back? And if he was here for you like Margie said — why? You were certain he wasn’t much of a fan of you the day prior.

“He’s — He’s not my biker,” you mangled out, words twisting off your tongue as butterflies danced around your tummy.

Margie snorted. “I hate to break it to you, Hun. Lookin’ like he is now.” She paused a moment, shifting her footing as she spotted a youngin’ running roughly across the pavement, almost banging into another student. “Hey — watch where you’re goin’. Don’t push it Mikey!” She reprimanded before fixing herself upright and asking you, “What was all that about yesterday anyways?”

“What y’mean?” You questioned, not quite sure what she was going on about.

“You know — lettin’ the Davis girls go with ‘em. Caused a bit of an upheaval with the parents apparently. Heard all about it in the break room this mornin’. Doesn’t sound like Principal Rubs is real happy about it either.”

Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing. What business did the parents have putting their two cents in about somebody else’s family members? As for Principal Rubin, well, she was Principal Rubin after all. There wasn’t much to it there. The damn woman was a stickler with the sprinklers yesterday after all. Never a ball of fun as far as you were concerned.

“Why wouldn't I?” You challenged, becoming rather defensive.

“The guy pulled up like a maniac all greasy and shit. Almost gave everyone a heart attack,” Margie reasoned, her features churning in disgust.

You knew if he was some clean cut military guy in full uniform, she wouldn’t have made a comment at all, which kind-of pissed you off. Sure his clothes were lookin’ as if they hadn’t seen a washing machine in a cycle of days, but hey — what did that have to do with character? There were plenty of people who gave this outward canvas of perfectionism, far off from who they truly were deep down inside. You knew that, and you saw it every single day within the cruel clusters of your modern society. You saw it in the faces of your Ma and Pa when you didn’t fit the supposed mold they were trying to conform you to.

“So? He’s their Uncle, Marge,” you countered, defenses climbing high. “Did you ever think that maybe the man was runnin’ late? Worryin’ about the girls. That’s why he was speedin’.”

Margie sighed. “Not with that Vandals shit on his vest, but whatever you wanna believe, Hun.”

It went quiet between you two then. A clear indication that this conversation wasn’t gonna get the two of you anywhere.

“I should go talk to him,” you announced, snapping the awkward silence in half. There was no denying that you were now suddenly eager to find out what all this was about.

“Yuh should. If you don’t I will, and I doubt that will end well,” she joked, her eyes sparkling in amusement. Oh and she was right about that. Knowing Margie, you knew the idea of her approaching Benny would formulate a recipe for disaster.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the mental image of such a scene. But also — you were utterly glad for this newfound banter popped open from a bottle of tension. “Alright Colonel, I’ll be back,” you quipped, before heading across the playground.

You could feel his eyes burning across your form on your journey to the edge of the property, your tummy flipping again in a bit of nerves and excitement. A part of you felt somewhat disappointed when you found yourself coming to a halt — stuck behind the monstrous fence that separated you from him, while another was glad for some security. You weren’t quite sure what his motive was, but knew it couldn’t be anything bad. He was just sitting here, smoking and minding his own business. Well — minding you.

“The girls don’t get out of school for another few hours, y’know,” you said matter-of-factly, eyeing him through the grates of the fence that reminded you far too much of a honeycomb.

He didn’t say much of anything, just raised a brow as you as he took one last drag of his cigarette. You watched as he put it out against the pavement, amongst a garden of other buds with his boot. Your suspicions were coming into fusion then, the realization that he’d been planted here for as long as your delusions imagined.

What could he possibly want from an innocent elementary school teacher like you?

He reached for that packet of Marlboros in his vest pocket all over again, clearly on a chain smoking spree. “Y’want?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. Those lean fingers of his calloused to the bone holding out a fresh cigarette in your direction. A cigarette that he’d been saving for you just in case.

You looked around for a moment, not quite sure what to do. The coast seemed to be clear though. Margie looked busy with some of the kids. Had a cluster of ‘em around her with her finger wagging about in every which direction. With her eyes no longer trained on Benny and you, and your form more than halfway across the school yard, you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you were having a day and could really use a cigarette. “Sure.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Benny re-adjusted his stance, shoulders straight as he sauntered the sidewalk to meet you against the fence. His rough knuckles brushed across your polished ballet slipper fingers as he passed you the cigarette though the honeycomb, a sweetness shooting up your arm in an instance. You left it sticking out for a moment so he could light it up for you, and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your face. The casual interaction felt rather intimate in the moment, and you were more than happy when you got to take a step back on your first drag.

“Thanks,” you voiced your appreciation as he popped a fresh cig against his lips, now lighting up his own. You couldn’t help but notice that he had a sweet little freckle etched into his bottom lip. No wonder he had beautiful lips, you thought.

Surely, they’d be sweet to the kiss.

Jutting your hip out, you tapped your foot against the dry grass in impatience. “You stalkin’ me or somethin’?” You ripped off the bandage then, getting right into the real stuff. It was too hot out to sugarcoat anything any longer. Plus, the more you stood here the more Marg would get curious, and you’d be caught slacking on the job.

His lip curled up to the side naturally, just like it had yesterday when you introduced yourself to him. “Ain’t a stalker,” he confirmed, re-pocketing his lighter.

You found his candid response refreshing’. Naturally a honey rumblin’ laugh tumbled out of you “Good to ‘ear. My co-worker y’see ‘round over there?” Flicking the residue on the end of your cigarette out of the way, you pointed at her simultaneously. “She thinks ya are. Doesn’t appreciate the loitering.”

He shook his head then, long pretty eyelashes fanning his lower lids as he puckered his lips against the cig. His eyes squinted across the campus for only a second until his gaze landed right back on you. You in another denim overall number with a whole new canvas of embroidered fun. This time, knowing that you were gonna be out in the yard come afternoon, you opted on a classic jean overall. There was always the possibility of having to kneel on the grassy ground or near the sand pit, having to scoop up a youngin’ that refused to leave the playground. You learned your lesson rather quickly within your first few months of teaching. Tripping over yourself in such a situation left a tear in your favorite skirt. A skirt you still frowned about every time you found a certain piece in your closet that would make the perfect pair.

Funnily enough, if Benny knew of such a thing he would’ve made sure the same exact piece of clothing was at your doorstep and back in your closet before the thought crossed your sweet little mind.

But you didn’t know that. Not yet, that is.

And Benny — well Benny wasn’t payin’ as much attention as he would’ve liked to what you were sayin’, and he wasn’t quite interested in Margie anyways. His interests lied with you, and in his defense, the sight of you in your heart shaped sunnies wasn't helping the cause one bit. It was hard to take you seriously when you looked that stinkin’ cute. Made him wanna put you in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. And hell was he itching to just drive his bike right through the fuckin’ fence to break the barrier between you two. He was still beatin’ himself up for not taking your hand when you offered it to him yesterday. Hence why he was here, stakin’ you out. Hoping to fix his mistake.

Because the last thing he ever wanted to do was fuck this up with you.

Instead of enertainin’ your comment or makin’ a move to leave upon your far from subtle hints, far from linear to your own wishes, he changed the topic completely. “What time y’get outta ‘ere?”

You took a long drag of your cigarette, to calm your anxieties. The smoke circled ‘round your face for a moment before it traveled across the fence, reachin’ for Benny. Ironically, it was as if the smoke mirrored your desires of clinging onto the man in front of you. “‘round the same time as the girls, a little after,” you replied, curiosity adding, “what’s it to ya?”

“Wanna go for a ride?” He inquired casually. As if he was just stoppin’ by and hadn’t been sitting here for a good three quarters of the school day waitin’ for you.

The simple question spilling from those pretty lips of his made you melt in an instant. If it wasn’t for the obvious heat as a buffer to such a state, your mind would’ve found him as the culprit. “Where?”

“‘round.” He shrugged, not offering much of a plan. His casual demeanor remained concrete to his form.

An innocent smirk stretched across your face, blooming the apples of your cheeks and creasing the plane of your forehead. Now you were the one to flex amusement against a cylinder wedged between honey glossed lips. Now Benny was the one to be somewhat grateful for the honeycomb — if you will. Cause if the fence wasn’t there, he knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He’d have your honey gloss all over his lips, tasting your sweetness without a second thought. Without caring about Margie or the students on the playground. Without caring about anyone really, but you.

Always you.

Perhaps anyone else would be rather suspicious of a plan with really no plan at all. Sure Margie would need a bulleted itinerary on fresh stationary, color coated and attached to a clipboard respectfully. But you — no, you appreciated his carefree mentality. It was peaceful in comparison to the stressing atmosphere that surround you on a daily basis, dotting on the kiddos in your classes, worryin’ constantly about ‘em.

Two could play this game, you thought.

Just at the end of your cigarette, your pretty fingers reached between a ring in the honeycomb, motioning it back to him. “Would ya put this out f’me?” You asked sweetly, mascara coated lashes batting about behind those obvious heart eyes of yours. “Don’t want the kids to find it in the grass.”

“Mhm,” Benny hummed, finding your concern for this children too fuckin’ cute. How could he ever say no to a sweet thang like you? He just couldn’t.

Your fingers grazed his as he took it from you, a touch that you found yourself thanking your faith for allowing you to bask in again.

This time he not only put out his cigarette, but yours too in the garden of buds that would blossom into a metaphor. A metaphor that had you joining his crew. Becoming a part of the club, joining his family, and fulfilling your wifely duties of planting a seed or two more along the way. Growin’ Benny some baby honeys of your very own.

Your lack of a reply to his offer didn’t sway him by any means, only fueled his fire tenfold. Turning on his heel then, you couldn’t help but frown, thinkin’ your hesitance turned him impatient and over the prospect completely. Especially when you watched him mount his bike and rev the engine, ready to ride away without another word. But Benny — no he still had somethin’ to say, and he was gonna say it alright. “I’ll see ya out front after school, Honey.” He decided, “I’ll be waitin’.”

The sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue — as smooth as honey sliding down your throat in a soothing tea — was all you needed to make your decision.

With your fun little backpack — straps resting against your shoulders — absolutely decked out in pins and keychains alike, you’d spot him at dismissal, and he’d be waitin’. Waitin’ for you to come. Wonderin’ if you were comin’.

Askin’ himself ‘Honey, are you comin’?’

Of course you would. You always would with Benny, no matter what.

And when you mounted his bike, your body molding into his like you were made for him, and your hands wrapping around his waist, Benny’s mistake proved to be no more. Suddenly, everything felt right in the world.

Right because you were one step closer to being his honey.

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hi-ya, i hope you enjoyed part 2! there’s so much more to come. expect a from the hive 🎙️🐝 installment real soon :)

also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝

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[hoe4hotchner]

Friday night lights | [A.H]

Pairing: Country boy!Hotch x City girl!reader | WC: 1.7k | CW: Fluff, song fic, small town x big city, American football

A/N: Just an FYI I know nothing about american football at all and all terms used in this is a result of my google telling me technical terms and what they mean, so if they're used wrong I ask you to look the other way heheh

It wasn’t hard to spot you in the stands, even with the crowd packed shoulder-to-shoulder along the weathered bleachers of the local high school. Dressed in a sleek black coat and boots better suited for the city streets, you stood out like a sore thumb amongst the denim jeans, battered baseball caps, and Carhartt jackets. Yet, you didn’t seem to mind.

Hotch leaned against the chain-link fence near the field, arms folded across his chest, his work-worn boots crunching on the gravel beneath him. His lips twitched into a smile as his eyes caught yours, scanning the sea of faces until they landed on him. You gave him a little wave, your gloved fingers barely visible in the bright glare of the floodlights, and he nodded back, the warmth spreading from his chest outwards.

Aaron Hotchner had lived in this small town his entire life, and in a way, this field was a part of him. Every Friday night growing up, he’d sat in these stands, cheering until his voice was hoarse, dreaming of someday being the one to make the crowd roar. He had tried out for the team in high school but found that playing the sport was not as fun as watching a game. Hotch had instead become one of the best track and field runners of his time at the school.

Football wasn’t just a sport here — it was the community's pulse. It brought people together, week after week, under the lights and the rhythmic tones of the marching band.

This night was no different. The bleachers were full, blankets draped over laps, hot drinks in gloved hands. The air carried the unmistakable crispness of fall that you didn't get to experience much in the city. Every now and then, the cold bit through his jacket, but it was nothing compared to the energy of the crowd.

“C’mon, kid,” someone near him muttered, their eyes fixed on the second-string quarterback standing in the huddle.

Hotch followed their gaze. The young quarterback — barely more than a boy — looked tense as he wiped his hands nervously on his jersey. The starting QB had gone down in the second quarter, and now this kid, who rarely saw more than the sidelines, was being asked to carry the weight of the entire game.

With less than thirty seconds on the clock and the team down by four, the coach had called a Hail Mary. It was risky and desperate, but it was the only play they had.

Hotch could feel the tension ripple through the crowd, every eye locked on the field. The quarterback jogged to the line of scrimmage, calling out a snap count with a voice that barely carried over the noise of the stands. The ball snapped back to him, and he dropped into the pocket, his eyes scanning the field.

The roar of the crowd seemed to fade as time slowed. Hotch watched the boy wind up and let the ball fly, a perfect spiral cutting through the air. It sailed high, arching over the heads of defenders and receivers alike.

Everyone held their breath.

The ball came down in the end zone, right into the hands of a sprinting receiver.

For a moment, there was silence as you moved through the crowd, wanting to be by your boyfriend's side. Then, the stadium erupted. Cheers and screams filled the air as the team stormed the field. The receiver, clutching the ball tightly, was mobbed by his teammates. The young quarterback stood frozen, staring at the scoreboard before breaking into a grin so wide it was visible even from the stands.

Beside him, you let out a laugh of pure delight, clapping your hands as you turned to Hotch.

“That was incredible!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushed from the cold.

The young quarterback was hoisted onto the shoulders of his teammates, his grin even wider now as he waved to the cheering crowd. Hotch glanced at you, the sparkle in your eyes making his chest tighten.

This wasn’t your world. It wasn’t the bustling city streets you knew so well, with their late-night diners and endless streams of people. Truly a city that never slept. It wasn’t the place where you felt most at home. But here you were, bundled up in the bleachers of a football game, sharing in the joy of a kid you didn’t know throwing the pass of his life.

You were trying to understand this world — for him.

As the crowd began to disperse, Hotch pushed off the fence and turned to you.

“Well?” you asked, slipping your hands into the pockets of your coat. “How’d the kid do?”

“He just made himself a legend,” Hotch replied, his voice full of pride.

“Guess I picked a good night to come, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at you. “You did.”

You looped your arm through his, leaning into him for warmth as you walked toward the parking lot. The lights of the field still shone brightly behind you, illuminating the faint clouds of breath in the air.

“I think I get it now,” you said quietly after a moment.

“Get what?”

“This,” you replied, gesturing vaguely toward the field. “Why it matters so much to you. It’s not just a game, is it?”

Hotch shook his head, his lips quirking into a small smile. “It’s more than that. It’s… home.”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked to his truck in comfortable silence.

The barn door creaked as Hotch pushed it open, the late morning sun streaking in behind him. Dust particles danced in the golden light, settling on bales of hay stacked neatly along one side. He paused for a moment, surveying the scene, then walked in, his boots echoing softly against the wooden floor.

From your spot leaning against the fence outside, you watched him with admiration. His broad shoulders were framed perfectly by the sunlight streaming in through the open door. He moved with purpose, rolling up his sleeves as he reached for a tool hanging on the wall.

“This place belonged to my granddad,” he’d told you one evening not long after you visited the town for the first time. “He left it to me when he passed. Everyone thought I’d sell it, maybe head somewhere bigger… but I couldn’t let it go.”

At the time, you hadn’t fully understood why. The farm was a sprawling stretch of land with fences that always seemed to need mending and animals that required constant care. The house itself was small and worn, the kind of place you’d never dreamed of calling home back in the city. In fact, you would've turned your nose up at the mere offer to live in a place like this if you hadn't met him.

But as the months went by, you started to see it through his eyes. The cracked paint on the barn doors wasn’t just a sign of wear — it was a piece of history, a reminder of the generations that had worked the land before him. The wide fields, stretching endlessly under an open sky, were more than a view — they were a canvas for his hard work and dreams.

Hotch poured himself into the farm with a determination that left you breathless. From sunup to sundown, he worked tirelessly, baling hay, tending to the animals, fixing machinery, and planting crops. When the debts his granddad had left behind threatened to swallow him whole, he didn’t back down. Instead, he fought harder, learning as he went, year by year until he finally paid them off.

Now, the farm thrived under his care. The barn was bustling with life, the fields were fertile and green, and the small-town skeptics who once whispered doubts now spoke his name with respect.

The barn door creaked again as he stepped back out, wiping his hands on a rag. His dark hair was mussed, and there was a streak of dirt across his cheek, evidence of another morning spent knee-deep in hard work. When his eyes found yours, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“You’re staring,” he teased, leaning against the fence beside you.

“Can you blame me?” you shot back with a grin. “It’s not every day I see a man single-handedly outworking half the county.”

Hotch chuckled, the sound was low and warm, settling in your chest. “It’s not every day I’ve got someone like you cheering me on.”

You reached for his hand, slipping your fingers between his and giving it a gentle squeeze. His palm was calloused.

At first, moving here had been an adjustment. The slow pace of life, the way neighbors showed up unannounced with casseroles and unsolicited advice — it had been overwhelming. And yet, with Hotch by your side, it didn’t feel so foreign anymore.

“Are you sure you’re not getting tired of all this?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning your face.

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I think I’m starting to love it.”

The breeze picked up, carrying the scent of freshly cut hay and wildflowers. Around you, the quiet of the countryside filled the air — the soft clucking of hens in the coop, the distant whinny of a horse in the pasture, and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

“This place is a part of you,” you said after a moment. “And if I’m being honest, it’s becoming a part of me, too.”

Hotch turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with something that felt a lot like home. Because that’s what this was becoming — not just his history, but yours, too. Together, you were building something that went deeper than roots in the soil. It was in the way he smiled when he caught you watching him, in the evenings spent side by side on the porch, and in the shared dreams of a life that felt simple but full.

As the two of you stood there by the fence, hand in hand, the future stretched out before you — wide and open. Now you just had to convince him to let you adopt 100 dogs that you could run around and play with while he worked.

[littlelamy]

𝓈𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓉

author's note: 18+

you could hear the muffled thump of the bass from where you stood just outside the chain-link fence, the beat already thrumming in your chest. rafe stood next to you, arms crossed, his usual smirk barely hiding his apprehension.

“this is a terrible idea,” he muttered, watching as you eyed the fence like it was a challenge.

“terrible, but worth it,” you shot back, flashing him a grin.

he huffed, running a hand through his hair. “you know we’re gonna get caught, right?”

“not if we’re quick. come on, cameron, where’s your sense of adventure?”

his eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. you knew him too well—he was already in.

“fine,” he said, stepping closer. “but if we get arrested, i’m blaming you.”

“deal,” you replied, grabbing the fence and starting to climb.

you scaled the chain-link fence with ease, the metal cool under your fingers. when you reached the top, you glanced down at rafe, who was still on the ground, looking up at you with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“what’s the holdup?” you teased, swinging your leg over slight showing your panties.

“just enjoying the view,” he called back, his voice dripping with sarcasm mixed with lust.

he started to climb, his movements deliberate and steady. you waited on the other side, your heart pounding—not from fear, but from the thrill of doing something you weren’t supposed to.

when he landed beside you, you couldn’t resist a smug grin. “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

“yet,” he muttered, brushing dirt off his hands. “let’s just get this over with.”

you grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his before tugging him toward the music.

the concert venue buzzed with energy, the crowd a sea of movement under the flashing lights. the music was louder here, each beat vibrating through your body. rafe stayed close, his hand resting on the small of your back as you maneuvered through the throng of people.

“this is insane,” he said, his voice barely audible over the noise.

“it’s fun,” you corrected, spinning to face him. the lights painted his features in soft hues, and for a moment, you got lost in the way his blue eyes sparkled under the glow.

you started to sway to the music, letting the rhythm take over. “come on, cameron. live a little.”

“i don’t dance,” he said, his smirk returning.

“you do now.”

you grabbed his hands, pulling him closer. at first, he was stiff, his movements awkward, but as the music enveloped you both, he loosened up.

his hands settled on your hips, guiding you as you moved together. the beat slowed, the melody sultry and hypnotic, and the space between you disappeared.

you pressed your back against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. his fingers tightened on your hips, his breath brushing your neck as you swayed.

“you’re trouble,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

“and you love it,” you replied, tilting your head back to meet his gaze.

his lips brushed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

you turned in his arms, your bodies still moving in sync. the crowd seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you under the pulsing lights.

“rafe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

his eyes darkened, his gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes again. he cupped your face with one hand, the other sliding down to the small of your back as he pulled you closer.

when his lips met yours, it was electric. the kiss started slow, his mouth soft and deliberate against yours, but it quickly deepened. his tongue swept across your bottom lip, and you parted for him, your fingers tangling in his hair.

his grip on you tightened, his hand slipping lower to the curve of your waist. you arched into him, the heat between you building with each passing second.

“you’re insane,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire.

“and you’re still here with me,” you shot back, your smile teasing.

he laughed, the sound vibrating through your chest. “yeah, i guess i am.”

you leaned up to kiss him again, your body pressing against his as the music swelled around you.

rafe’s hands roamed your body as the music seemed to slow around you. every beat vibrated through your chest, but it was nothing compared to the way his touch ignited your skin. his lips left yours, trailing down your jaw to the curve of your neck, where he bit gently, earning a sharp inhale from you.

“you’re dangerous,” he muttered against your skin, his voice dark and teasing. his fingers dug slightly into your hips as he pressed you closer, your bodies completely aligned.

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes daring him to continue. “so are you,” you replied, the breathlessness in your voice betraying how much you wanted him.

the crowd danced around you, but it felt like you and rafe were in your own little world. your hips moved against his, the friction making your knees weak. you felt him grow harder against you, and it sent a thrill up your spine.

“you’re driving me fucking crazy,” rafe groaned, his grip tightening as his lips found yours again. this time, the kiss was hungrier, all teeth and tongues and desperation.

he broke away for a moment, his forehead pressed to yours. “you know where this is going, right?”

you smirked, threading your fingers through his hair. “only if you can keep up.”

his laugh was low and wicked. “oh, i can keep up.”

rafe’s hand closed around yours as he guided you through the sea of people, his determination palpable. you didn’t even question where he was taking you; you trusted him implicitly, and the thrill of sneaking off heightened your anticipation.

he pulled you into the shadowed corner of a merchandise tent, the music still pounding in the background but muffled enough to make you feel isolated.

“no one’s watching,” rafe murmured, his hands already on your waist. “just you and me.”

you barely had time to respond before his lips were on yours again, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your skirt.

his touch was firm and unapologetic, his fingers tracing the line of your thigh. your breath hitched as he cupped you through your panties, his grin against your mouth pure arrogance.

“you’re soaked,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

“rafe—”

“don’t ‘rafe’ me,” he interrupted, his thumb brushing over the sensitive spot that had you trembling. “you’ve been teasing me all day. now, it’s my turn.”

he pushed your panties aside, his fingers sliding against your slick heat. you gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he worked you expertly, his touch alternating between gentle and demanding.

“you’re such a brat,” he growled, his other hand gripping your jaw to make you look at him. “you know that?”

“and you’re obsessed with me,” you shot back, your voice shaky but defiant.

“damn right i am,” he admitted, his grin smug.

he pressed you against the tent’s support pole, his body caging you in. his fingers moved faster, his other hand slipping down to hold your hip in place.

“you’re gonna cum for me,” he said, his tone low and commanding. “right here, right now.”

“rafe—”

“do it,” he ordered, his thumb circling your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. “let them hear you.”

the world around you blurred as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. when you finally shattered, your cry was muffled against his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as you rode out the wave of pleasure.

he kissed you deeply, swallowing the last of your whimpers. “good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride.

before you could catch your breath, rafe was on his knees, his hands pushing your skirt higher. “we’re not done yet,” he said, his smirk devilish.

his lips brushed the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. when his mouth finally found your puffy, wet folds—you nearly collapsed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you with a precision that left no room for coherent thought.

“rafe,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his blue eyes dark with desire. “you taste like trouble baby,” he said, his grin wicked.

“mhm, and you like it,” you managed to reply, your legs trembling as he dragged you toward another climax.

when he stood, his lips glistening and his expression smug, you decided to turn the tables. you pushed him against the pole, your hands slipping under his shirt to feel the hard lines of his body.

“my turn,” you said, your voice full of intent.

his eyes widened slightly, but his grin didn’t falter. “go ahead, princess. show me what you’ve got.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[madraynesims]

Wallpaper Converted From: Animal Crossing: New Horizons for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3

Today we celebrate the 4th anniversary of Animal Crossing: New Horizons! Oh, and my 4th anniversary of being on tumblr! This set includes over 300 wallpapers for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3. I will most likely do a Sims 4 version in the future, as that game would require me to create 2 more textures per wallpaper, because it has 3 wall heights, so I'll need more time to make them. In the meantime, SimderTalia has converted some wallpapers to The Sims 4 already, so you could grab those! I will list some of them below. Please let me know if you run into any issues.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons collection file for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3 can be found on my collection files page: Found Here

Disclaimer: The swatch above is just a small showcase of what's included, there is a total of 386 walls. Some walls aren't included because I simply didn't have the texture, or I need more time to recreate it. This conversion only contains still images, some of these are supposed to be animated in Animal Crossing: New Horizons. I would like to release animated versions of them for The Sims 2 in the future.

Downloads:

Animal Crossing: New Horizons Wallpaper For The Sims 2 - SFS For The Sims 3 - SFS For The Sims 4 - N/A Alt Download - Patreon Credits: Most textures extracted by nimaid. A few extracted by @yarn-enquiries. Converted by me Enjoy my work? Consider becoming a Patreon or buying me a coffee!

Wallpaper from Animal Crossing: New Horizons Information: Prices and categories vary based on my best judgement. Texture size: 256x512 Wallpapers NOT included in this set; Brick Garden Wall, Chain-Link Fence, Dungeon Wall, Falling-Snow Wall, Ice Wall, Laboratory Wall, Mermaid Wall, Palace Wall, Rope-Net Wall, Sci-Fi Wall, Server-Room Wall, The Roost and Able Sisters SimderTalia's wallpapers for The Sims 4; Part 1, Part 2, Dreamy Set (includes 5 sets of walls), Kisses Wall, Aurora Wall, Snowflake Wall, Ice Wall, Iceberg Wall and Falling-Snow Wall (no brick/window), Antique Brick Wall and Rose Walls, Able Sisters Wall, Mossy-Garden Wall, Spooky Wall, Sky Wall, Future-Tech Wall and Sci-Fi Wall (stars only), Underwater Wall, Mermaid Wall (background only) and Ocean-Horizon Wall (no clouds), Forest Wall and Mush Wall

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine: Part Two

find part one here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.2k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, smut and more smut. unprotected p in v sex, oral m receiving, some almost getting caught tropes (kinda) and just jax having his way with you

[authors note]: so I wasn’t planning on making this a two part series but here we are! this is basically just pure smut but I owed it to you guys after that cliffhanger. thank you again to THAT anon for the fantasy that inspired this second part! it was too good not to write.

Your hands dug into the front of his leather cutte, weaving your fingers in between the cotton of his shirt. The only sound was the roaring of the bike beneath you, and the wind as it thrashed your hair into chaos against your helmet. You weren’t sure where you were going, but at this point you didn’t care. You squeezed your arms as they wrapped snug around him, tightening as he sped faster into the unknown.

Chibs followed just behind. They had been on their way to a Mayan warehouse earlier that night, before Jax decided to make a detour when he saw your car parked at the bar. When it was clear they had to go, you had begged Jax to bring you along. To your surprise, you had somehow convinced him. His dick was clouding his judgement, but you were both desperate to find an end to what you had started in the backseat of your car.

They parked the bikes in the back of a desolate warehouse, alongside a large empty truck. The building was fenced in with metal chain links and surrounded by broken security lights. From what you could see through the darkness, it was completely deserted.

Jax approached Chib as he rocked the kickstand on his bike as you waited patiently alongside his.

“Bobby and Juice on their way to the Clubhouse?”

Chib’s placed his helmet on the bike, “aye. Everything according to plan.”

“Alright, let’s get this done.”

Chibs placed his hand on Jax’s chest, “ye sure about bringing her? Could be here awhile pal.”

He knew he was right, bringing you with them wasn’t the smartest decision Jax had made tonight. He lit a cigarette between his lips as he walked back to you, “Just a straight forward drop off, Chibs. Stash the shit and get in the truck.”

Jax pulled you into him by the waist as you fumbled to undo the clasp of your helmet. His mouth pressed firmly against you, kissing you intently as his hands held your face to his. He watched you for a brief moment under him, your eyes staring up at him as he held your lip between his teeth. He broke only to smile widely down at you as he spoke, “c’mon, I got an idea.”

“We’ll be inside.” he called out, collecting a black satchel from the back of his bike. Chibs didn’t respond, only chuckling to himself as he watched Jax lead you away. “Kids.”

He pulled you through the warehouse by hand, obviously familiar with the surroundings. The building was dimly lit by a single light that shined from the entrance, just enough that you could see your feet beneath you as you walked.

You didn’t ask questions, just followed as he weaved his way through a thick maze of tall empty shelving units. He gripped your hand tighter as he pulled you into a small room cordoned off in the back of the building, housing the now derelict security unit and remnants of old office supplies.

There was a large display window that overlooked the majority of the warehouse, which would’ve been used to watch the ongoings of the building when it was up and running.

“Wait here.”

You obeyed his order, sitting on an old computer console that towered from the floor. It was just large enough that you could sit with your legs bent alongside it, straddling it beneath you.

The distant light was too far to aid in your sight as you attempted to watch him through the display window. Jax disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing from the opposite end of the building.

It felt like he was gone for eternity as you sat in silence, waiting for his return.

Suddenly an external door into the office opened, making you jump, and Jax re-entered, this time empty handed as the satchel he carried in with him was gone. He locked the door behind him. He moved toward you, now standing with his waistline parallel to your face. He was looking out into the warehouse from the side of the display window. “Just gotta wait for the pick up and then we’re out of here.”

“How long will we be? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Shouldn’t be long. Then I’m taking you home. We got unfinished buisness of our own, darlin’.”

Jax laid his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face upward to look at him. His thumb stroked your skin gently, as he peered down at you with hungry, desperate eyes.

“How ‘bout you just swallow my cock now to pass the time.”

You chuckled at his adavance, raising your eyebrows at the suggestion. “Here? What if someone comes in?”

Jax lowered himself down, forcing your head to turn on its side, as his lips pressed to your ear. He spoke slowly, unravelling you with every word. “Let them watch. I don’t give a shit. Your instructions earlier were very clear darlin’, you told me to take what’s mine. I’m going to take you, here and now. I’m going to have you where I want you, when I want you. You are mine to take, however the fuck I want.”

You nodded as he turned your face to his, your eyelids batting against your cheeks that were smushed beneath his hands. His thumb found entry between your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth wide for him. He smiled contently at how quickly you obeyed his silent demand. You held your tongue out, and he grasped at your jaw in response, turning your head side to side as he observed every inch of your face. “You are so fucking perfect. So fucking mine.”

You had never wanted him more than you did in this moment. You were prepared to beg and plead on your knees for his cock, you would do anything for it, and he knew it.

“Fill my mouth, Jax. Please.”

He leaned down to you as he unclamped the buckle to his belt, smirking against your lips as he placed them on yours.

He released his long length against your face, and you immediately took it into your hands. His head fell back as you stroked him intently, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips. You planted small, wet kisses against his shaft, as your hands caressed his erection. Once you’d kissed every inch, you took him into your mouth, forcing him in deeper as you pulled him in you by his unbuttoned jeans.

He groaned at the sensation of your wet tongue, circling his length before you choked at the fullness of him inside your mouth. There was nothing quite like gagging on Jax’s cock.

“Look at me when you take me”, he demanded. Your eyes trailed up to him as you swallowed his cock, drool dripping from your chin and down your neck. Moans escaped his gritted teeth and his hands entangled in your hair, collecting the strands into a ponytail behind your head. He tugged at the root to push you in closer, as he used your mouth over and over again.

“Get on the floor.”

You knew better than to question the order. You did exactly what he said, laying against the cold concrete floor that laid beneath you. He stroked his length as he stood above you, instructing you on every move to make.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.”

Once you were half naked on the floor, Jax lowered himself into you. His cock pressed against your waist, as he pulled down your jeans and panties.

“Spread your legs wide for me.”

Jax didn’t wait any longer. He encapsulated himself into your mound, opening your wet folds as he thrusted into you. A gasp escaped your throat as he entered, relief filtering through every inch of your core.

“Oh you’re still fucking soaked for me, babe.”

You couldn’t help but whine at the immediate pressure building between your thighs, desperately trying to hush your voice. It was near impossible to keep from screaming as the heat from your groin was burning to be released. You’d waited for what felt like forever since Jax had you in the same position in the backseat of your car, and the anticipation of being relieved was a feeling you revelled in. He grabbed your throat with his hand as you laid beneath him, your ass crushing repeatedly into the cold tile as he pounded into you.

“Remember what I told you earlier? While my face was covered in this perfect pussy?”

You couldn’t respond, let alone think of anything that happened earlier tonight. You groaned out as the length of his cock engulfed your insides, and hearing him talk this way was sending you over the edge. How the hell were you supposed to think?

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Can’t remember?”

“I can’t think straight- like t-this, Jax,” you admitted. You were staring into his eyes as he pounded into you, fighting the need for yours to roll in the back of your head.

“Let me help you.”

He sat you upright, his dick still embedded in your mound, as he lifted your legs, bending them against him. He pulled at your ass, bringing himself even further inside, the feeling of fullness overwhelming you. Your back was now arched against him, giving him full access to your clit.

“Fuck- not helping-“, you cried.

His hands travelled from your ass to your cunt, circling his fingers over the swollen nub, while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Jax- oh my go-“

He smiled as he watched you lose yourself in your climax, succumbing to his cock. His head fell back in pure bliss as he felt your orgasm squeezing him.

“I told you, you’re mine.” His cock pushed further into you as his hand tightening around your neck, the skin turning a shade of red at the force.

Your head nodded violently, “I’m yours-“ you somehow managed to muster out, your voice cracking under the pressure of your orgasm and his hand around your throat.

Just as Jax was going to unravel with you, you were interrupted by the sound of the main entrance door opening, followed by footsteps. “Did you hear that?”, you whispered.

Jax leant backward enough for him to peer over the display window. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness to realise who the intruders were. It was Bobby and Juice.

“Is it Chibs? Do we need to go?”

Jax looked back down at you, sprawled half naked against the floor and completely, totally his. Seeing you this way, he couldn’t of cared who entered the warehouse, he was going to finish claiming you no matter who watched. He gleamed at the sight of your flushed pink cheeks and hair utterly strung awry, all the result of his doing. “Oh no, darlin’. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His cock found your entrance again, sliding into your dripping mound as he bit back a groan. “You feel so fucking good- taking me so well-“

You tried desperately to suppress your scream, failing as a squeal slipped through your lips.

Jax quickly placed his hand over your mouth, and you were thankful for the aid in silencing your whimpers. He roamed over your body and face, watching as pleas left your eyes, begging in desperation for another release. His lips pulled into a devilish smirk as he lowered himself completely into you, forcing his cock to push even deeper into your mound.

You groaned into his hand, his hips finding a way to submerge even further into your core. Jax was enjoying every moment of this, watching as your composure expired around his cock, while he never wavered, just holding himself there within you.

“You gotta be quiet for me now, darlin’,” he murmured slowly into your ear. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded at his request, struggling to move from the weight of his body pressing against you. His hand tightened around your mouth as tears began to stream from your eyes, overwhelmed by the urge to stay silent against the extreme fullness you were enduring.

The footsteps grew closer, as Jax pushed deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You could hear Bobby lowly calling out, “Jax, where you at?”

He ignored his calls, focused entirely on you beneath him. Nothing else mattered to him but the way you felt wrapped around his cock.

He was relentless, repeatedly finding a new depth with each thrust into you. His hand stayed out against your mouth, and you bit at the skin to suppress the groans that couldn’t be muffled. He quickened his pace, and your fingers squeezed at the leather of his cutte as you found your final climax. Jax hunched his back, bringing his face to yours as he found his release with you, filling your aching cunt with his seed.

When he recovered from his end, he began to trail plentiful kisses from your chest, and up your neck. He paused at your jawline as he pressed a tight smile against your skin, nibbling at the flesh.

“You’re only mine.”

find my masterlist here

[revelboo]

I forgot, have you ever written Sunstorm? Might be a cool one to try! Reader finds him in a nuclear power plant (gotta get that yummy enriched uranium) (that’s a joke but it would be funny)

I keep thinking about it now. You always give me the hardest characters, first Metroplex, now this irradiated, raving lunatic. 🤣 I’m just going to BS a way for reader to survive him instead of insta-death from radiation poisoning.

Love Me Dead

Sunstorm x Reader

• What was that? Slowing down in the road, you turn your spotlight onto the fence lining the road. Or the lack of. Something had taken out a huge swath of it. A drunk driver running off the road? Pulling over, you park and walk through the ruined chain link fence, playing your flashlight over the damage. Why did it have to be here? Aiming higher, you think you can see one of the cooling towers through the trees. Know the place was decommissioned and that the lingering radiation is negligible, but you still don’t like it.

• Swinging the flashlight beam to play over the trees, you catch a glimpse of yellow deeper in. A pulse of fitful light. “You okay?” Calling out, your voice is swallowed by the night. Too hurt to answer? Moving closer, your breath hitches as you keep moving toward that faint glow. Watching it pulse and dance. You have no idea what it is, but it’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Swearing softly as you get close enough to realize it’s not a wrecked car you’re seeing, though your brain can’t make sense of it either. A mangled mess. Skin crawling as your light reveals a giant face.

• Drifting in and out of restless recharge, he’s not sure what’s real and what’s only in his processor. Only that he can’t fail now. This is only a new trial, a test to ensure his worthiness as the hand of Primus. Betrayed and only barely escaping his allies and not without damage. All because they can’t believe his truth. Think he’s insane. Is something there approaching him? Or just another phantom?

• Mangled glass and metal and that dancing light. Hearing that hum deep in your bones as you reach out. The rational part of your brain jangling alarm bells, warning you that anything that pretty is probably dangerous. To stop. That you don’t even know what it is. It’s like you’re possessed, body moving on its own. And that dancing will o’ the wisp arcs to meet your fingertips and you go rigid realizing you just made a horrible mistake.

• Jolting to awareness as that shock of connection slams through him, he hisses through his denta. Feels his spark snaring and tangling with you, that euphoric high making him shudder on a groan. Trying to understand what you are as he wraps himself more firmly around your fragile light. Thoughts and emotions not his own spilling into him, a life he’d never lived his to experience. A gift given to him, a reward for not losing faith, for not faltering in his belief. And then your panic and fear slices into him so visceral it hurts as he delves deeper into you. Claiming what was offered freely.

• Can’t break that connection as something spills like poison into you. Feeling seen and judged as he engulfs you until you’re drowning in him. Feeling that madness become a tide threatening to pull you under. Feeling him. Sunstorm. A name to go with that face floating through your mind, those thoughts that aren’t yours. And you can’t escape, as he digs in deeper, refusing to let you go. Whispering that you made an offering. Giving him something you hadn’t meant to. Hadn’t realized you could give as you grieve that loss and he wraps tighter around you, his thoughts whispering in yours, brushing against you in shivers of chaos and conviction that this is right. Meant to be.

Next

[vexwerewolf]

Showrooms of LANCER Manufacturers

IPS-N

IPS-N showrooms are what you'd get if you slammed a truck dealership, a hardware store, a camping gear shop and a sports bar together in the Bass Pro Shops Pyramid. We're talking row upon row of shelves stocked with the most precision-engineered engine parts you can print on one side of the floor, and on the other, durable, hard-wearing survival gear. Camping stoves you can run off of your mech's coldcore, sleeping bags that'll survive a HEX charge, automatic camo cloth, the works.

Right down the middle, you've got the mech floor. They've got the Tortuga. They've got the Blackbeard. They've got the Drake. They've got the Lancaster and the Kidd. They've got the Vlad (they put a chain-link fence covered in DO NOT TOUCH signs around that one after the infamous CFO's 10-year-old Incident). They've even got the Raleigh, kinda tucked away a little bit behind the water feature, but it's there!

Everything on the shop floor is ruggedized to the point that you could take a mech's fist to it without leaving a dent - and they sometimes do that to demonstrate the engineering quality. There's a giant screen hanging from the ceiling displaying constant advertising for the mechs and IPS-N in general, usually striding purposefully through idyllic Diasporan wilderness or doing hard, honest work like starship loading or construction. There's a mixtape of the most famous bro-country hits playing 24/7.

Smith-Shimano Corpro

In a word: bespoke. Everything in this place is custom. Each and every desk is individually built according to the height of the salesperson who sits behind it, and manages to be a unique art piece without disrupting the overarching aesthetic of the showroom. Whenever there's a change of staff on the sales floor, they rearrange every single desk so that they're still in ascending order.

All of the salespeople are inhumanly pretty, by the way. This atelier has its own fully-staffed makeup and wardrobe team. You're part of a work of art when you work for SSC. Everything and everyone gleams. Even the most chic visitors might feel underdressed in the midst of all this splendour.

The mechs aren't just there to be sold, they're there to be part of the experience. You might see a Monarch holding up the ceiling like the titan Atlas himself. A Mourning Cloak might be posed provocatively like a nude statue. That Swallowtail - is it in a slightly different position every time you see it, or is that just its camouflage decals? How does it always manage to be just inside your line of sight, even when you're looking somewhere else?

They have a catwalk, like you'd see at a fashion show, but it's sized for mechs. If they really think you might make a purchase, they'll queue up the entire performance for you, and you'll get to see a Viceroy strut.

The mix tape for this showroom is a seamless mixture of complex jazz, psychedelic ambient and classical piano music. It's sophisticated and mysterious.

Harrison Armory

Imagine if America could be a showroom. Harrison Armory mech outlets are part dealership, part museum. Every mech is in its own diorama, depicting some heroic event in the Armory's glorious history. A phalanx of Sherman Mk. Is holds the line against some Diasporan slaver-tyrant's army. A Saladin fends off Karrakin hordes during the Interest War. The Genghis Mk. II? Oh, that diorama isn't open right now, it had to be closed for *coughcoughcough* and *coughcoughcough* but let's move on shall we heh heh

Everyone who works here has been in the Colonial Legion at some point, and knows every specification of the mechs they sell off by heart without even looking at their slate. If possible, the Armory tries to employ people who have actual combat experience with the mechs they're selling; people who can speak to the efficacy of their technology first-hand. It's one of the many programs which the Armory has open for retired veterans; it's easy work for decent pay, good benefits and it looks great on your Social.

The music here is a constant loop of patriotic Armory anthems. If you've ever heard the music from Starship Troopers, or the Outbreak of War from Star Ocean, you'll know what I'm talking about.

HORUS

Being a decentralized omninet collective with no official branding or even consistent manufacturing standards, it should come as no surprise that HORUS has no showrooms.

ERR:CONNECTION_INTERRUPT

CartesianWhisper: P55555t CartesianWhisper: Ignore that 5hithead CartesianWhisper: They don't have any idea what they're talking about CartesianWhisper: You want a mech, kid? CartesianWhisper: And I'm not talking the tra5h the Purv5 try to 5ell you CartesianWhisper: Or that overpriced garbage 55C want5 you to mortgage your genetic5 for CartesianWhisper: Or the macho trucker bull5hit IP5-N i5 trying to hawk CartesianWhisper: I'm talking about the REAL DEAL CartesianWhisper: The PROPER 5TUFF CartesianWhisper: Log on to rgx0582.node-7.c4l.omni CartesianWhisper: I'll 5how you what true power mean5 >:]

[fandomnerd9602]

Taken

Wolf!Natasha x Reader

Based on idea by @supercorpdanbeau

Your wolf hybrid girlfriend clutched your favorite sweater in her claws just waiting for you to come back from your reconnaissance mission. It was just supposed to be a simple observe and report.

She needed you to come back to her. Her eyes scanned the horizon on the hill overlooking the targeted Red Room facility, just hoping that she’d see you coming back to her.

“Natasha,” Yelena came running up to her sister, “they got (Y/N)”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. The hair on her wolf ears and tail raised. “Which way?” Natasha asked, determined and yet scared at the same time.

Yelena reaches into her knapsack and pulls out two AK-47s, handing one to her sister, “we’re gonna get your detka back”

Natasha looked at your favorite sweater. She held it close to her nose and inhaled the deeply seated scent that was your musk. The redheaded wolf girl then raised her head and locked onto you.

You were being held captive in the deepest part of the Red Room facility. Tied to a chair with zip ties.

Dreykov, the mastermind behind the Red Room and all of its activities against hybrids slammed his fist across your face.

“You know who I am, yes?” He asked in a thick Russian accent.

“A guy who might need of a shower?” You retort, earning you another slam of his fist. “Sorry I misspoke, you definitely need a shower, dude.”

He raised his fist to slam it into your nose but he was interrupted by the sound of alarms going off.

“What is that?” He asked as his guards went to investigate.

“An alarm, dumbass,” you look at him coldly, “and right now I got the best backup coming to get me. Just pray she’s in a good mood”

She was not.

The thing about wolf hybrids is that as they get angrier, they tend to actually become more wolflike. So for Natasha, she looked like a full on redheaded werewolf.

Natasha ran on all fours, her nails sharpening and growing into full on claws. She jumped up the chain link fence the entire red room facility in a single leap

“Contact!” A guard shouted only for his shouts to be cut short by Natasha’s claws. Several guards tried shooting at her but she leapt, scurried, and dodged every bullet. Natasha made quick work of them all.

Yelena came in behind Natasha and could only be witness to the carnage.

Natasha charged angrily through the hallways, running on the walls, slashing throats, anything to get to you. She didn’t care all the matter to her was you. 

Two guards tried charging at Natasha. She gutted both and threw them through windows with ease.

Dreykov was pretty scared as the sounds of gunfire and screams echoed down the hall

“Untie me” you say, “and I just might get her to spare you”

Then came the wolf howl. She was close. Dreykov tried to pull out his revolver but it was stuck in its holster.

The door sprung open and Natasha threw a knife, impaling Dreykov’s hand into a nearby wall.

She looked around the room, Natasha was on pure animal instinct now. She saw you and your bruised face.

Her clawed feet echoed as she stomped towards the sniveling man that had been her tormentor all those years ago.

“I made you! I made the weapon you are today!” He tried to say as if that would somehow spare his life.

Natasha drove her claws right into his stomach, “no more” she growled.

And with a simple swipe to the side, Dreykov collapsed to the ground dead.

The werewolf before you marched over to you. In truth some small part of you feared this form of hers. It was pure animal. But you knew your girl.

“Hi honey wolf” you offered her a small smile.

The giant wolf knelt before you and sliced the zip tie restraints. She began nuzzling you, little sad whines escaping her muzzle.

“Oh baby” you pulled the werewolf close, kissing her muzzle and stroking her back affectionately, “it’s okay. I’m safe. You saved me”

Your werewolf slowly transformed back into her standard wolf-human girl form. Natasha began crying, she wrapped her arms around you.

“I thought I lost you” she said through her tears, grabbing your face and kissing you over and over, like you were her very reason to breathe.

I hold her close, rubbing reassuring circles into her back. “You didn’t lose me, baby. I’m safe. And that’s because of you”

The two of you nuzzle as Yelena runs into the room on all fours.

“Remind me to never piss you off” yelena retorts as she glances over the disemboweled remains of Dreykov.

Your honey wolf would go thru hell and back to find you. As you would do the same.

You, Natasha and Yelena made your way back to the sanctuary. For the next few weeks, Natasha did not let you out of her sight. She kept you cuddled with her on her cozy little couch in her wolf den. She almost lost you once, your wolf girl was going to ensure it never happened again.

The three of you would rescue many hybrids over the years and legends would be told someday of the wolf girl and her human mate whose love was strong enough to take down the Red Room and all its hatred.

You and Natasha had a love that strong.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @ma1egamer @julieromanoff @iiconicsfan25 @iamnicodemus @revanshand @russianredassassin @deafeningsharkslimeempath @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @texaswolf23

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the compound part one

words: 2k

warnings: alien apocalypse au!, violence, reader gets injured, hunger/starvation, mentions of death

part one / part two

you take a deep breath as your eyes focus on the pile of supplies. you know it's bait. you know it's purposely set up near the border of the compound to entice thieves, that someone elses eyes are likely on it right now.

but you have no choice. your stomach growls. you can see canned food. it's been so long since you had something from before. you've resorted to killing wild animals and gathering as much edible berries and plants as you can find, but even those are hard to come by. everything is hard to come by.

you look at the fence separating you. it's chain link, easy enough to climb. there's barbed wire placed on the top, fashioned together with zip ties, but plenty of space for you to fit between.

your eyes adjust as darkness falls, glad your hiding spot is shielding you from most of the wind. now that winter is rolling through the north carolina woods, you need to come up with a new plan. whether it's moving south or finding others to survive with that you trust enough to not kill you for using their resources or leaving you behind as alien bait.

a cloud passes over the moon, sending the world into even further darkness. you don't allow yourself time to second guess, shooting forward as fast as your legs can carry you, praying that your speed makes up for the sound as you scurry over the fence.

you groan when in your haste you cut your leg on the barbed wire, but you have no time to stop and see if the gash is deep.

you make it to the stack of supplies seemingly without notice, but the second your hands touch the box of canned food, a floodlight illuminates the yard of the compound.

“shit.” you allow yourself to mutter a curse word, picking up the small box and tucking it under your arm as you head towards the fence, knowing the other side means safety. 

“stop!” someone shouts from behind as you begin to climb, moving slower now that you have less mobility of one arm.

you let out a scream when someone grabs your leg, you try to kick them away, but then your other foot is grabbed, being pulled down by compound men. you struggle the best you can, even dropping your precious cans of much needed food in hope it hits one of them, but your hands can only hang on for so long before you succumb to their pulling, falling backwards with a thump, head hitting the ground and darkness enveloping you.

--

your head pounds as you try to blink your eyes open before realizing that they're covered by a blindfold. 

what a shitty way to go out, you think to yourself. blindfolded and gagged by compound men. at the end of the world, you don't meet your end in an aliens bite but rather from other humans.

it makes you question if along with the apocalypse people lost their humanity, or if they're just finally able to show their true colors without the expectations of society.

you slowly become more aware of your body. your hands are restricted behind your back to some kind of chair. your fingers reach out to touch the rope and then the chair, sighing when it's cold and smooth. wood you could possibly break, but you have no chance with metal.

your feet aren't restricted. you try to feel around for anything, but the floor around you seems clear.

you consider tipping your chair over, but you have a feeling that would only result in more pain for you.

“you awake?” the question is asked. it's a male voice, of course. it's widely known the compound is almost completely male. only a few rare women have ever been seen behind the fence. you're not sure what their recruitment process is, but you've heard whispers that they bring impressive people in. people that try to steal from them and get caught or defend their stash when the compound men leave on their raids.

you thrash in your seat since you're not able to respond. no use delaying the inevitable. if they're going to kill you, you don't want to wait around for it to happen.

“good.” the voice says, and then all of a sudden the blindfold is tugged off your eyes. it takes you a second to adjust before you can properly look around the room, realizing you're up on a stage, auditorium seats in front of you with a few men in them, all heavily armed.

you realize quickly that the military base the compound men took over must have had some sort of stage for speeches, and that you're now center spotlight.

“she did pretty good.” one of the men in the auditorium hums from the seats as the one who took of your blindfold exits down the stairs to join them. “got to the fence. most people don't even get that far.”

you try to tune out their words, eyes sweeping from some sort of escape, or help. you've learned not to rely on human help after the aliens came, but you might not have any choice.

“yeah, but she got caught.” one man huffs out.

“shit, billy, shut up. we need more women around here.” a new man says, his eyes feeling predatory as he looks over your body, making you press your thighs tightly together. you manage to look to the side to realize there's an armed man on either side of the stage, tucked slightly into the wings, but their dark eyes on you.

��we shouldn't even be arguing.” the man who untied your blindfold says. “wait for him.”

him. the infamous leader of the compound. you've never seen him or even heard his name, but he has a reputation from the bit of gossip you've managed to pick up. cruel. not bloodthirsty or barbaric like some of the men under him, but unflinching in his standards. refusing to give out any sort of help or aid even if a mother is on her knees begging at the fence.

you've heard from some that he doesn't care, you've heard from others that it's because his men come first.

you also know every time the compound men leave on a raid, they're looking for more than just food. someone. someone that the leader lost. presumed dead, just like most of the people after the aliens came, but that doesn't stop him from looking.

your heart breaks for him despite his cruelty. you wonder if it's a son. a daughter. a sister, mother or wife.

you refuse to let your mind turn to the ones you lost. you weren't close with your parents when it happened, but your friends… your boyfriend. you shake your head, willing the thoughts to leave. no use getting emotional right at the end.

you hear footsteps, the men scattered around the first few rows moving to situate themselves, sitting a little straighter, making sure their makeshift uniforms are done properly.

the doors at the back of the auditorium open. you wait for the figure to step out of the darkness, the emerge from the shadow from the mezzanine above.

“untie her. now.” the voice rings out, so familiar it hurts as the men from the wings move quickly to undo your gag. you feel the sudden coolness of a blade against your wrist, but it slashes away at the rope.

the man is moving quicker now, your eyes widening when you realize who he is.

“rafe!” you scream, shooting up from the chair. tears are already streaming down your cheeks as you run, sprint as fast as you can across the stage, rafe also breaking into a run as you take the stairs so fast you're worried you'll fall.

“y/n!” rafe yells out as you reach each other. you're lifted into the air behind him, sobs racking your body as you press your face into his neck, legs wrapping around his hips.

“you're alive!” you can hear the disbelief in rafes voice. 

“i-i thought you were dead rafe.” you whimper into his neck, pressing kisses to his skin between the words. “i came to tanneyhill after they arrived and it was-” you can't finish your sentence. partly because the pain of having to describe what happened to tanneyhill, the home you spent so much time at. but mostly you don't finish because rafe sets you down, moving your head out from his neck to press his lips against yours.

you sigh with relief before kissing back, hands fisting in his uniform, just now realizing how bulky his clothing is, various weapons hanging from them.

“i-i love you so much.” you tell rafe, pressing your fingers against his cheeks, the plains of them still as smooth as you remember. you look into his eyes. it's the same rafe, your rafe, but at the same time he's different. clearly hardened by the apocalypse, aged quicker from the stress.

“i love you.” rafe kisses you again. “i never stopped looking for you.”

you. you're the one. not a son or a sister, but the person the compound men were looking for.

“i-i didn't know you were here.” you wish you saw rafe out on a raid, but just like everyone else in the north carolina woods, you scatter when the compound men leave their base, almost as much of a threat as the aliens are.

“otherwise you wouldn't have stole from me, huh?” rafe smirks, making you giggle. he clearly hasn't lost his sense of humor.

he pulls you close to his chest as he looks to his men. “dismissed. i will be in my chambers. no disturbances unless it's an emergency.”

the men instantly scatter. rafe waits until they all leave before turning to look at you, hands skirting down your body to your wrists. he sighs deeply when he sees the marks from the rope, red and bleeding in some places.

“let me get you cleaned up.” rafe says, and you just nod. it feels surreal to finally be back with him, your boyfriend who you could have sworn was dead. you didn't stay long in the outer banks, not with the limited resources of an island, but you looked every day for rafe to see if he somehow survived the aliens before you fled into the woods.

you feel like your eyes are still glazed over as rafe leads you out of the auditorium, promising you a full tour of the compound later as he moves swiftly down the halls, two men walking in front of him and two men behind him.

you should have known rafe would get himself into some sort of leadership position even after the apocalypse. he might not be the most well versed in combat or shooting, but he can lead and throw commands around like he was born for it.

“this is my- our chambers.” rafe pushes the door open, the four men remaining outside as rafe leads you in. it's surprisingly comfortable inside, suddenly feeling like you're in a home rather than a military base.

“i-i think i may have died when i fell off the fence. there's no way this is real.” you genuinely have to run your hands along your arms, pinching yourself to make sure you aren't dreaming.

“it's real, baby.” rafe sighs with relief as he strips off the weapons, placing them at the table near the door before stripping off his fatigues until he's just in a plain white tshirt and shorts, looking just like the boy you knew before the end came.

as he steps closer, arms wrapping around you and allowing you to relax into his hold, reality comes rushing to you. you try to keep your cries quiet, but in no time sobs are racking your body, rafe lowering you both to the ground as you cry, loud sobs, even interlaced with screams from all the horrors you saw surviving without him. you let it all go, finally safe enough to.

rafe doesn't say anything, just holds you until your cries lessen and you pass out, exhaustion pulling you to sleep.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @https-luvvia @aerangi @folklorsweet

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 1

Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader

Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention... to you!?

~1.1k words

Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).

My Masterlist

Author’s note: Eeeee! I’ve been watching a lot of school life/romance anime these days and here we are lol. Wonwoo is so first love-coded I couldn’t help myself! And I needed something to distract myself from the pain and sorrow of Jeonghan enlisting. This is just part 1, but we’ll see how long this goes! hahaha. Thank you for reading!!! LMK if you want to be on the taglist 😊

Taglist: @yeoberryx @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @iIIucere @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

Despite the lingering winter chill, the time had come for the baseball team to start their pre-season training.

You didn’t know this because you were particularly fond of baseball. You (and everyone else in school) knew this because every morning a crowd of girls could be seen clinging to the chain-link fence surrounding the baseball fields.

There was only one reason why they gathered out there so early and in the freezing cold: Jeon Wonwoo.

Jeon Wonwoo was the star of the baseball team in the spring, the star of the track team in the summer, the star of the soccer team in the fall, and the star of the basketball team in the winter.

And everyone... everyone was in love with him.

Or, at least, that’s what it seemed like to you.

Spring came so fast, you thought as you shuffled your way to homeroom. You always got to class early since you didn’t really have friends to meet up with beforehand, and you didn’t play any sports. Your whole life existed within the path from your bedroom to school, only ever deviating to your parttime job at your uncle’s convenience store on the weekends, or occasionally to the library to study.

You glanced out the window to see the crowd of your classmates (not to mention girls from the grade below you and the grade above you) watching the baseball team’s practice game. You were impressed that they got up so early just to watch a practice.

Jeon Wonwoo was in your class, and you had technically spoken with him exactly one time. But still, you didn’t think you could say you’d ever had a ‘conversation’ with him.

Earlier in the year, you had been tasked with collecting everyone’s homework. He had been chatting with the guys seated behind him.

“Um,” you’d squeaked, barely audible, “... Excuse me?”

He had turned to you, looking directly at you through those dark, feline eyes. You could tell right away that they were the eyes of someone with effortless magnetism. Even you felt your face get flushed when they were trained on you.

“Uh, your homework—” was all you could muster, unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” he said, turning to rummage in his bag, “sorry about that—thank you!” he smiled as he handed you his assignment.

He seems nice, you’d thought.

And that was the extent of your interaction with Jeon Wonwoo. Months had passed now, and his seat was on the opposite side of the room from you.

And even though you wouldn’t like to admit it, the moment had stuck with you...

The smile on his face, the way it... sparkled?

You chalked it up to being the moment you really understood why so many people in school were obsessed with him. He was more than just handsome and a top athlete; he was actually really nice. Or appears nice... you’d remind yourself that you didn’t really know Jeon Wonwoo. You didn’t feel like you could say with certainty what kind of person he was.

He wasn’t the most outgoing guy in your grade, but he attracted a lot of attention. You’d never seen him exchange harsh words with anyone. You couldn’t imagine handling that kind of spotlight. You saw girls talk to him and flirt with him all the time—giving him gifts, following him to the cafeteria, passing him notes in class... he was always super nice to anyone who wanted to talk to him, but apparently he’d never reciprocated anyone in the school’s feelings. Sometimes you wondered whether he already had a girlfriend or not.

Someone like him is probably dating a model, you assumed.

Class was about to start, and people came pouring in one by one. You continued to stare out the window, until you felt a tug on your school blazer.

“Hi, Y/N!!” it was your classmate, Chaeryong. She sat in front of you. You weren’t really friends, but she was nice. You were kind of surprised that she approached you.

“I’m sorry to ask, but do you think I could look at your homework from last night?”

“Oh,” you said, coming back down to earth, “Sure.” You pulled your notes out and handed them to her.

“Thank you!!” she said, “I owe you!!”

She took her seat in front of you and started copying down your homework. You knew that it wasn’t right, but you also didn’t care that much if other students copied you. It wasn’t like you’d get in trouble or anything. Even the teachers tended to overlook you. A blessing and a curse at times.

“Your handwriting is so neat, Y/N!” Chaeryong said. Then, the girl who sat next to her asked to see your notes... and another boy from the row in front of her... until eventually, it seemed like the entire class was copying your homework.

“Uh,” you started to interject as yet another classmate asked to see your work, but right then, Jeon Wonwoo and Choi Hansol from the baseball team came in, both of them emitting a post-practice glow and completely disrupting the vibe.

“Ah, Wonwoo! You were going crazy at just a practice, I’m so impressed!” the guy currently clutching your notes turned and said to Wonwoo. You’d gotten out of your seat by now, and were about to reach for your work...

“Oh that was nothing,” Wonwoo said with a casually cocky grin, “what’s that?” He pointed at your homework with his chin.

“Oh, this is Y/N’s homework,” the guy said, “she’s letting me copy.”

“Um,” you said, starting to panic. I never said that!

“What?” Wonwoo said, his tone incredulous. “Do your own homework! Y/N, you don’t have to let this clown copy your work.” His tone was much sweeter when he spoke to you, making your stomach turn inexplicably.

“Aww, Wonwoo! Don’t be like that!” the guy whined.

“Do your own homework next time!” And he snatched the notes from this guy’s hand.

“Here you go,” he said softly as he handed you the notes.

“Th-thanks,” you said, feeling completely flustered. You all but ran back to your seat. Maybe he is really nice, you thought.

“Man, bad timing,” another girl giggled, “we already got to copy Y/N’s notes.”

“Wait, how many people are just copying Y/N?” Wonwoo asked, but the room didn’t answer—instead shuffling off to their respective seats, continuing their own pre-class banter. Wonwoo looked across the room at you while you tried to crawl inside your own skin out of embarrassment. He almost went over to you... but he saw the look on your face and decided against it.

[preservationofnormalcy]

[My name is Meghan Hendricks, and I’m about to do something stupid.]

[I’ve scheduled my work to be sent to my superior in the federal government’s oversight committee unless I stop it in one week. A dead woman’s hand. It’ll be somewhat fruitless - I’ve begun to suspect that my work will be restricted, censored, and buried like most other things the Office does.

A lot of the people I talk to are exculpatory of the Office, even if they say they have questions or concerns. I think most of them mean it. I don’t think it’s brainwashing. I think in such a tighly knit community as the supernatural world people feel a more genuine sense of belonging than they might otherwise. A werewolf helping werewolves is going to understandably try and defend the hand that deals the help, even if they’ve bit it in the past. But one thing I’ve learned as I’ve been peeling up rocks and seeing what scurries away is that something isn’t right. Something is hiding in plain sight.

Most people don’t know about it. They can feel the shape of it, the outline the absence of something makes. Some people, however, do know. At least a little. I’ve seen them avoid questions, look away, end interviews. I can see it in their eyes. They know enough to not want to know more.

All of that brings me here, to the backwoods of upstate New York. I’m dressed in all black, wearing a mask and gloves. My clothing smells of peppermint, and in my bag is a bottle of peppermint oil. It stung my eyes and, before I got the dilution right, burned my skin. I look in my car’s rear view mirror and it hits me that I look ridiculous. I don’t know for sure why the factory foreman Barry warned me about the peppermint, but I had a theory. 

For the last few minutes I’d seen the shape rising into the air, the metal tower with red lights up its length. That was where I needed to be. The highway was thankfully bare, at this time of night. As was the turn-off onto an unmarked gravel road, only distinguishable by the Office’s symbol on a plastic sign, held up on a thin metal spike. I’d learned by now that the broader public couldn’t see the Office logos and signage until they’d been exposed to the extranormal, something the Office calls “memetic masking.” I was, in their terminology, memetically inoculated, and it was that fact that ironically helped me find the path. The gravel road went into the forest, but I pulled over past the road’s entry, into the small area of grass down past the turnoff. I pulled a tarp from my car and threw it over the vehicle, once again feeling ludicrous…and frankly, a little scared. 

The hike was about twenty minutes, mostly uphill on a gentle incline, the numbers station being built on a hill. I’d done worse, but not in a while. I could see pretty well in the light of the full moon, a fact that made me a little more nervous. I walked along the edge of the gravel road, in the dark - hiking onto a government facility, my nerves went wild. Every shift of leaves meant an agent clad in camo, every whip of wind causing a noise that made me think of the things I’d seen since I began this assignment. Not this assignment, I had to remind myself. This wasn’t part of it. Not really.

I saw the fence in the distance first - an eight foot chain link fence that stretched as far as I could see in either direction. Past the fence, I could see dark buildings, giant spools of wire, and above it all the metal tower of the station. I hadn’t exactly planned for this, even though I knew it was more than likely. The handheld cutters in my back pocket were ready, but something in me didn’t want to cut the links, even if I fully intended to pass the fence. Getting in some other way could be a blunder, accidental. Cutting the chain meant intent.]

C] 1 15 12 24 2 12 12 21 16 26 1 15 12 22 21 19 6 26 2 25 3 16 3 22 25

[The voice almost made me vomit. I spun and saw a man. Disheveled, haggard, an unkempt beard and long hair. Older, in his 50’s, but being dirty and ragged made him look even older. He didn’t even look at me, mumbling numbers so fast I could only understand them later once I slowed them down in my recording. After his string of digits he stood there, looking at the fence, then back to me. In the moon’s light I saw his dirty, torn jumpsuit, the logo for the Office on the man’s arm and chest, along with an embroidered nametag - Cecil.]

M] Wh- who are you? What are you doing here? 

C] 4 12 25 16 23 23 12 11 22 2 1 1 15 12 23 8 25 1 22 13 2 26 1 15 8 1 18 21 22 4 26 16 1 26 9 25 22 18 12 21

[His stare was distant, vacant. It was a shock when his hand moved suddenly, pointing upward to the moon. It took me a second to realize what he was saying, and when I did, it confirmed my suspicions.]

M] Here? Now? 

C] 1 15 12 6 19 19 23 2 21 16 26 15 15 16 20 13 22 25 19 16 3 16 21 14 1 15 25 22 2 14 15 16 1

[With that, he turned and walked away. He looked back once, pausing as if making sure I was following - which, despite my better judgment, I did. I attempted to ask him some more questions, trying to understand who he was or why he was here, but he didn’t respond. Not even with his numbers. 

After a moment of walking by the fence, we walked away from it, down the hill. A steep path, rocky and unstable, that he navigated with ease. It was only after climbing down past a tree and a rocky face that I noticed “Cecil” backtracking up a few steps. A huge drainage pipe jutted out from the hillside, hidden from above by rocks and plants. A piece of wood in the pipe was the only flimsy protection, and without hesitation Cecil pulled it aside and bent over to climb inside. Here I was, in the middle of the woods, about to climb into a dirty tunnel to a strange old man’s bunker. 

I could hear a match catch fire just as I stepped down onto a concrete floor and stood up past the metal pipe. The space was small, a concrete box that ended in a pile of rubble. It must have been the entrance to an underground section of the complex at one point, but now was only a covered shelter. A camp stove, a bed, an orderly pile of refuse. He was living hard out here, but he was living. Cecil put the match into an old oil lantern and held it up to one wall. ]

C] 13 16 21 16 1 12 2 21 16 3 12 25 26 12 13 16 21 16 1 12 1 22 22 19 26 4 12 19 22 22 18 12 11 9 12 6 22 21 11

[All over the concrete wall, pasted or taped, were papers. Mainly old documents from the Office, with the Office logo watermarked on their corners. Many of them featured heavy black redaction bars. Some were torn, upside down. Cut in patterns, circled with heavy marker lines. I’d seen things like this in movies, of course. The stereotypical red string and thumbtacks on corkboard. This was different, however. When I looked over the collage I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a man trying to figure things out. He’d already figured it out, in his own way, and this was some kind of…archive. Memorial. A reminder. I looked at him, and he looked down to the floor. In shame? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. I scanned the wall again, trying to find some order.  

‘Numbers Station 23 Decommissioned By Order Of Reality Compliance Council.’ ‘Bulletin From Director Walker On Directive 61722.’ ‘Los Angeles–’ the last one was torn off.]

C] 26 15 12 16 26 14 22 21 12 13 22 25 12 3 12 25 26 15 12 11 16 11 21 22 1 11 16 12

M] What is all this? Who ARE you?

C] 1 15 12 23 25 16 21 10 16 23 8 19 16 1 6 4 16 19 19 8 3 12 21 14 12 15 12 25

M] Listen, I – I don’t want numbers. Can you speak?

C] 15 16 26 13 2 1 2 25 12 16 26 2 21 18 21 22 4 8 9 19 12 8 21 11 1 15 2 26 16 21 13 16 21 16 1 12

M] You used to work for the Office…at the numbers station? This numbers station? Is that why you can only –

C] 4 12 18 16 19 19 12 11 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 1 22 26 1 22 23 15 16 20

[I must admit to some frustration. I scan the wall again. None of it made sense. Clearly it did to Cecil, otherwise he wouldn’t have saved all of this. Was the numbers station related to…what happened to my brother? Phrases leap out at me: ‘reality compliance’, ‘the equation’, ‘project dammerung.’ That last one was…all over. There were scraps, shreds with the phrase, but all of it redacted.]

M] What is this? Project Dammerung? 

C] 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 4 12 8 23 22 21 13 22 25 1 15 12 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 13 12 8 25

M] I don’t…I don’t have time for this. You know why I’m here. Are you going to help me, or not?

[Cecil was silent for once, looking around hesitantly, and finally back to the floor. I give him a moment to respond, and when he remains silent, I take in a breath.]

M] Right. Thank you, Mister…Cecil. I’ll…

[He raises his hand, almost as if he wanted to grab my arm, but was too timid. Raising the lantern to a section of the wall, he gestured to a particular document, from Office Security, or O-Sec. A photo of a serious-looking Asian-American man, Corporal Han. Most of the document was blacked out. Was this a warning? I take in the wall one last time, and drop my bag so I can reach for my camera. A polaroid - no digital trail, no getting the photos developed. With a click I snapped a photo of the wall. 

A noise distracted me. I turned, and Cecil was going through my bag.]

M] Uhh…sir? Cecil? 

[He stopped, looking up at me in almost surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was even there. ]

C] 1 15 12 12 20 16 26 26 8 25 6 26 14 25 8 21 11 11 8 2 14 15 1 12 25 4 16 19 19 1 8 18 12 15 16 26 23 19 8 10 12

[He slid the bag back over to me. I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to get out of there. I put the camera back in, quickly checking that nothing was missing, and backed up towards the pipe.]

M] I know you showed me this for a reason. I’ll figure out how it all adds up, I promise. 

[I enter the pipe again, leaving the old man holding his lantern.]

M] Thank you.

[When I turn away, he looks to his wall one more time. 

I emerge alone into the moonlight, attempting the climb back up the hill. Though I had more scraps of information, I was back at square one, or so I thought. When I reached the top and made it back to the fence, I saw a section of the chain link that had broken, detached from the pole nearby and bent away, covered in a bush that only kept it half hidden. This must be where Cecil still entered the facility. 

The gap in the fence opened up into what seemed to be a storage yard, the place I’d seen past the fence earlier. Piles of tarp-covered metal or wood beams, spools of wire as tall as I was. In the moonlight, I could see poles dotting the yard, cables stretched between them, each one bearing a floodlight. Though everything had been organized and put away securely, I got the feeling no one official had been here in a long time. Leaves covered most surfaces, and cobwebs shone in the dim light along the roof of a nearby shed. 

Again, it struck me that I didn’t know what I was doing. Any information or leads would be in the building past the storage yard, and surely that had better security? Cameras, keycard locks - what was I even doing here? Walking through the yard, almost lost in thought - the tower of the station rose into the night sky in the distance, red lights along its length. They almost looked like eyes along the body of some thin creature, frozen against the stars. 

And then, lights near the station building. I stood still for a moment, uncomprehending until a pair of floodlights on poles a short distance away snapped on, then the next set. The lights were turning on this way, towards me. I had seconds to react, and I did what I’d practiced. In my bag’s side pocket was a plastic bag, containing a gross mess of wet cotton balls, soaked in diluted peppermint oil. Despite my panic, I threw them in all directions, slinging a handful of them in a wide arc, and then hid before the lights were on in my section of the yard. I could hear the electric buzz of the floodlights snapping on just as I ducked behind a row of wire spools, trying to stop my racing heart.

As I debated my options - running, waiting out the lights…maybe they were on a timer? I heard footsteps approaching, crunching on the leaves and pine needles that had accumulated over the unattended years.  When they got closer, I tried to peek through the center of one of the spools I was hiding behind. I saw his uniform first, O-Sec, Office Security. A large man, built like a weightlifter - could see the black shine of a gun in his right hand and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the man from Cecil’s mural, Corporal Han. Was he the officer assigned to this site? I should have known the Office would still have security even on decommissioned stations like this.]

H] I know you’re here. 

[He stopped in a large open area, looking around at the stacks of materials around him, the sheds and tarps - all hiding places.]

H] Normally, I might blame teenagers. Kids getting a kick out of trespassing on Office property. We had one group a few months ago, teenagers. Two humans, a fae and a vampire. They all forgot their vamp friend couldn’t enter without permission. Fun night.

[He paused, letting the silence fall again. I could see him look around, eyes scanning the yard and narrowing. He sniffed the air in a way that seemed…odd.]

H] But judging by the smell…I think you know what you’re doing. You came in with an idea of what was going on. Either you’re a professional, or someone told you…

[He carefully walked, passing behind a small shed and out of my view. I panicked that I lost track of him for a moment, but then there was a sickening sound. Like flesh stripping and bones crunching, and Han’s voice hissing. Then a sound that echoed through the yard, the sound of a hand - no, a claw, grabbing onto the edge of the shed’s corrugated metal wall, digging in and tearing the metal. A shape followed it. A long maw of shining teeth, white fur. A raised canine lip in a familiar but terrifying gesture of anger and aggression, a low rumble as the muzzle raised, and smelled the air. Then, a whine, another growl, sneezing and huffing as the muzzle retreated behind the shed again, out of my view. Another crunch, a growl, and Han staggered past the shed. Haggard, sweating, panting softly, looking incensed.]

H] And if someone told you, I’m going to have a nice, long…conversation with them. 

[He tried to collect himself, catch his breath, run a hand through his hair. He pulled a bandana from a pocket of his uniform, pulling it over his mouth and nose.]

H] You have one minute. One minute until I call backup. You can hide from me, but can you run from a dozen of us? Most of them won’t have my…shortcomings. 

[My heart was pounding. My head was swimming. My fingers were going numb. I couldn’t claim innocence, not when they found out who I was. Could I make a break for it? All of the ways out seemed to be past him, and if he was what he seemed to be, it would be a short chase. It would end up better for me if I surrendered now, but what happens after that? I’d never work again…or worse.]

H] Cecil?

[Han’s voice was confused, concerned. I snapped around to watch through a gap in the spools as Cecil approached, holding a bottle. The bottle of peppermint oil. He must have taken it earlier when he was looking through my bag.]

C] 1 15 12 18 21 16 14 15 1 9 12 8 25 26 1 15 12 14 2 16 19 1 15 12 16 26 25 16 14 15 1

H] Cecil, what did I tell you about–

[Han took in a breath through the cloth, and exhaled, clearly frustrated. His voice was sharp, low, but his face softened, and there was a soft click as he put his gun away.]

H] Why the peppermint, man? You know what that does to my nose. Were you just trying to sneak around without me knowing? 

[Cecil looked at the bottle, then dropped it.]

C] 26 22 20 12 26 1 16 19 19 13 12 12 19 23 15 8 21 1 22 20 23 8 16 21

H] Are you taking your medicine? Probably not. Let’s….let’s get you back home. Not that bunker, home. 

[Cecil seemed to hesitate, but Han put a hand on his upper arm.]

H] You know you can’t be here. Come on. If you come with me to the station I’ll ask someone to bring you dinner when they come pick you up. Okay?

C] 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 4 8 26 13 22 2 21 11 4 8 21 1 16 21 14

[The older man lowered his head, but followed Han as the guard turned and walked back towards the station - but not before looking around, deciding on the row of spools I was hiding behind, and nodding, jerking his head towards the direction of the gap in the fence.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Once Han and Cecil were out of sight, I ran to the exit. I don’t remember much of the next several minutes - running a roundabout way through the forest, coming to the edge, following that until I found my car. I didn’t allow myself time to decompress. I slammed the keys into the ignition and pulled out onto the highway. 

The tears came just as it started to rain, and I drove until it became difficult to continue. I had gained nothing from this. Nothing but a panic attack and a long-lasting nightmare, a recurring dream with claws, spools of wire, and the scent of peppermint. ]