#clutches them all tightly. theyre all MINE now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I��m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler smut #30 fics in 30 days

368 notes · View notes

belit0 · 4 years ago

Note

Okay hear me out something really really and really dark with indra 🤭 Like you “cheating on him” ( Reader didn’t probally just some weirdo mailman arriving at theyre mountain home asking for stuff and the reader lets him and somehow they make it into the bedroom?? 😭) and indra comes in and it just becomes really dark

"something really really and really dark with Indra..."

My brain didn't need much more to create something completely bizarre and sickening.

TW: Non-con, kidnapping, blood, s3x with a dead man lmao.

The night was short, too short for your liking. You always get this feeling when Indra is absent when his presence is so far away he is not even perceptible in the scope of your reach.

If your man is with you, you know when the sun goes down the torture begins. Upon meeting him, you never expected such a handsome countenance could carry so much evil inside. And although he claims to want you, at this point you understand all he wants is absolute possession over you, he is not interested in pursuing your love or seeking your adoration.

But of course, whoever fell into the clutches of such a beast, and to make matters worse, voluntarily as you had done, had no way to escape. Who would dare to face the mighty Otsutsuki? He who would make people run in dismay at the mere sound of his name.

Trapped in the depths of an isolated forest, you had given up any hope of ever walking the earth freely years ago. There was no way to evade the surveillance of your partner, who was everywhere with the secrecy of a feline.

If you had the courage to try to run, to scream for help, what awaited on feeling his hands around your neck was even worse than death. He always got what he desired, and the only thing he had craved was you.

It took several frustrating attempts to free yourself that led you to be brutally clamored by him on the forest floor, while his grip left bruises on any part that had contact with your skin. The scene ended grotesquely, as he carried you back home as if nothing had happened. Your bloody form, with clothes torn off and a few bones, were broken by Indra's violence, lay fainting on his arms, time after time.

Eventually, you understood that there would be no point with such an approach when in your last try it all got too much and he decided to break both of your wrists to make you stop resisting. The recovery was long, and when you were back to normal, you decided to succumb to being used every night rather than savaged that way.

But now, as you sat looking out the window, you thought to yourself. Indra had left on a trip weeks ago, and as usual, it was unclear where he was heading. Escaping would be imprudent, for perhaps it was all a test, a made-up situation to see how you would react to such a prolonged absence.

Forgetting the matter, you got up to the kitchen when a loud noise on the outside caught your attention. Resuming your previous position, you watched as a man with long black hair fell to his knees a few feet from the door, dropping to the ground and barely holding himself up with his hands.

There it is, Indra's damned testing.

Rushing away from the window and leaning your back against the wall, you gasped for breath, trying to calm yourself. As sorry as you were for that human being, you knew that your partner would appear at any second and cruelly end his life. He was simply trying to make you take a false step, tempting your big heart and your ample generosity.

Minutes that felt like an eternity passed, as the pleas for help grew lighter and lighter and the volume diminished.

No one was attacking.

The man continued to kneel, trying to reach the house.

Unable to endure, you decided to betray your preemptive alarms and ran out of the house. This person was severely wounded, unable to move or walk on his own.

A sense of security assaulted you as you helped him in and laid him down on your bed, while you analyzed the wounds and the origin of the blood.

No one was attacking!

It was a tough job to put the man's battered body to rights, but after extensive treatment of his wounds, he was no longer in danger and regained his breath, still lying on Indra's pillow.

And with that, the man grabbed you by the nape of your neck and leaned you over him, causing the lips of the two of you to gently meet. It wasn't like Indra's touches, it wasn't possessive or unwanted, it was romantic, gentle, warm, and beautiful.

"You saved my life and I don't even know your name..."

"No need to exaggerate, gentleman. Had I left you there, you probably would have woken up after a good few minutes, I simply relieved the pain. As for my name... I regret to say that I cannot reveal it."

"A beautiful mystery... in that case, there's no need to know mine either."

The temperature rose, not taking long to exchange tongues, and avoiding to climb on top of him because of the state of his poor body, you lay down on your side of the bed, where Indra had taken you countless times.

Not wanting to let go, you simply let him handle the moment.

After a slight hesitation, he pulled away and looked into your eyes, asking permission to do it again. Licking your lips, it was you who initiated the action this time.

Hands danced everywhere, and clothes were lost with speed. He had you mount him, making it clear he could not exert himself too much due to lack of strength. Not wanting to argue against that logic, you sank on his erect length with a moan, while your eyes closed tightly.

You only opened them when you began to feel your orgasm approach, seeking eye contact for more pleasure. But you were disconcerted to see that his gaze was fixed on a corner of the room, to which your back was turned.

A pleased smile graced his features, not even paying attention to you.

"This way is fine, boss?"

Your blood froze in understanding.

Indra's test.

But what you didn't expect was for the man beneath you to suddenly become completely paralyzed, as a muffled THUD rang through the room and the hot liquid splashed your face and chest, as well as your arms.

Your eyes squeezed shut as a kunai was thrust into his forehead, killing him on the spot. A quick instinct assaulted your muscles as you tried to pull the slain man's limb out of you and run, getting away from your partner and trying to save yourself.

Now, this was the worst situation in the world.

There was no way you were going to pull through this.

But a huge, strong hand grabbed your hair as he noticed your intentions, pulling you down on the man's body and extracting the murder weapon with the other hand.

Tears began to stream down your cheeks as your hands closed over his wrist, futilely trying to make him let go of your hair.

"Unsightly..."

"Disgusting..."

"It only took you a second of my absence to jump on a bastard's cock. I knew you were an insufferable fucker from the way you cry and beg for my touches, but now I see it's your natural way of acting...you're just a whore, aren't you?"

It has been a long time since you realized how your rejections towards his actions were perceived and qualified as wanting, where Indra's reality was completely distorted.

"I...N-N-N..."

You can't get your tongue to move properly to outline his name, trying to defend yourself somehow. Ironic, for that heated muscle had danced shamelessly seconds ago across the man's lips lying beneath you.

"Shut your ungrateful mouth you rotten filthy bitch."

Your face is pressing against the man's neck, being held still by Indra. The blood dripping from the mortal wound on that person's forehead oozed down your features, mingling with your tears.

"Is this what you wanted? It takes a worm-like him to make you realize who you belong to? A damn misfortune that cute little cunt of yours has been desecrated in such a manner."

And as your breathing continued to heave and your body was convulsing in revulsion because the murdered man's limb continued inside you, you didn't notice Indra's weight on your back until it was too late.

"I allowed this hole to remain virgin waiting to be taken when my first son was inside you... The notion of fucking you along with my offspring was wonderful, but as you won't outlive this, I'll give myself the treat I've been depriving of."

You can feel the tip of his cock exert pressure on your ass, and even as a dead man lies beneath you both, filling your pussy, Indra has no trouble getting fully hard and forcing his way into you.

Holding your neck with both hands, his chest is pressed against your back as his waist slams viciously over your form, making you cry out in pain and getting halting pleas for mercy from your lips.

Everything is a nightmare.

Indra is a nightmare.

And even with the dark picture in that room, with your face smeared in The Otsutsuki's latest victim's blood, you hear his breathing pick up pace, grunts coming from deep in his throat as his dick mercilessly works your tight channel.

The man's length beneath your body lost its rigidity, uselessly stuffing you.

You have no idea how much time elapsed in that assault, for your consciousness shut down a few times and you were forcibly awakened by his slapping.

Eventually, his seed mixes with the blood coming from your not-so-virgin opening. Beastly sounds are heard from behind you as your eyes close in defeat, tears continue to fall unchecked.

And suddenly the last sensation you experience in your life is that of such abuse.

Accompanied by the sharp cold metal teeth of the kunai that slits your throat and robs you of your last breath.

#otsutsuki indra x reader #indra otsutsuki #otsutsuki indra #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #indra x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #indra scenario #indra imagines

91 notes · View notes

koba-baboba · 3 years ago

Text

moony

a/n: hey look a new series because i got overhwhelmed by in the dark. this will be a self indulgent story so its ok if you dont like it. im trying a new writing style so let me know if its any good. this isnt really edited so read at your own risk. shout out to anyone who can figure out which part of this chapter i inserted after it was done.

chapter 1/? word count: 1628

warnings: none i think. a weeny bit of blood.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

towering trees and bright flowers are all i can see for miles, it was the most beautiful thing ever. mother held my hand, swinging it as we walked along the dimly lit dirt path. "happy birthday my love! how does it feel to be 6 hm?" mothers words are soft and full of love as she looks down at me fondly. "not much differnt, i think im taller maybe?" i screw my face up trying to think if i felt taller or not, i *felt* taller. mother laughed heartly as she looked around us. "youre almost past my hip now! youve definitely gotten taller." mother cooed still looking happily at me. i smiled, i *am* almost past her hip now! i swung her hand even more as we contiuned on our walk. "dad doesnt like to go on these walks does he?" i questioned, looking up at mother. "he doesnt like to get his fancy shoes dirty, Alexander has always been that way" she reasured me softly. the bush in front of us rustled, mother excitedly pulled me down to crouch so we didnt scare the critter moving towards us. i wiggled excitedly, hoping it would be a bunny. "stay still. maybe its a deer" mother whispers into my ear. the rustling get louder before a dirty tired looking man stumbles out. mother pulled me up harshly and hid me behind her. i tried to peek out at the man but she shoved me behind her again. i suddenly remebered what day it was, the full moon. i clutched to mothers shirt as she put a hand on my shoulder.

"can i help you sir? you look ill" mothers voice is shakey but firm. "now that you ask... i do need help"

im on my back on the floor, its uncomfortable and bumpy. my hands are wet and warm, it feels gross and sticky.i raise my hands to my face, theyre red? i turn my head to see if mother knows whats happening and... the man is on top of her, his teeth digging into her neck. shes screaming, crying, "m-mom?"

"mom?" i whisper but im not in that forest anymore, im on my bed in my room. i look around my room, at the posters and drawings on my wall that i made myself, at my trunk and bag near my door. it takes me a second to register the knocking at my door. "andi we need to go" a sandy haired man says softly as he pushes through my door. its just remus, im safe. i push myself up to sit on the edge of my bed and run my hand through my messy curls. "are you alright sweetheart?" remus- dad, asks me softly. "nightmare" i mumbled sleepily. he sighs and sits down next to me. he rubs circles against my back. "its always worse after the full moon, give yourself some patient love" dad said softly, he knew i wouldnt actually give myself time to bounce back. it was frustrating to admit i needed time to heal, i didnt like admitting i was differnt. dad sighed and kissed my forehead gently "get dressed, you can eat at the weasleys, molly will have plenty of food for you"

i pull my t-shirt and worn jeans on and try desperatley to make my hair less of a mess. i dragged my trunk downstairs towards dad who was waiting patiently at the door. "ready? molly will have some ointments for you when you get there."

"i double checked this time" i chuckle, more than once ive forgotten something important, my school supplies werent exactly cheap so that wasnt exaclty ideal. dad chuckled and looped his arm through mine and, with a loud pop, we landed at the burrow. my second home! i live here as often as i do at dads house. it was the most brilliant house ive ever been too.

the door flew open and two lanky twins came flying towards me. fred and george collided with me, hugging me tightly. i giggled squeezing them tightly. Remus put his hand on my shoulder “I’ll see you at the train station, be safe” and with a pop he was gone.

“He never comes inside” a sweet voice came from the doorway. A plump woman was looking fondly at the three teens. She opened her arms wide, beckoning me forward. i smiled and wrapped my arms around molly. “Hello dear” she cooed into my hair. Molly pulled back and looked me over, cupping my face and turned it side to side, examining the new cuts and bruises i donned. She hummed

“Ginny! Ron! Come here!” Molly shouted as she pulled me inside, the twins following.

“She’s going to coddle you” Fred whispered into my ear with a little chuckle. i rolled my eyes as i followed molly into the kitchen where Ron and Ginny had just rushed in.

“Andi!” Ginny bounded towards me wrapping her arms around me and hugged me like it had been years since the last time she had seen me. Ginny had always looked up to me like an older sister ever since she could speak. i hoisted Ginny up and into my arms spinning her around. god i loved the weasleys, every one of them, including percy.

“I’m a little offended you didn’t do that for us” George huffed feigning hurt.

“Yeah come on andi, I thought we were your favourite” Fred added, mimicking his twin.

“Now when did I say that boys” i teased as i plopped Ginny back on the floor. The twins rolled their eyes before throwing their arms over my shoulders. the twins did this to me so often, we were always joined at the hip in some way.

“I dunno I just have a sneaking suspicion that you like us” the boys said in unison. i snickered and gave Ron a happy “hello”

“Now now boys don’t be too rough on her” molly scolded shooing the twins off of me. i sighed, Molly always had a tendency to treat me like i was fragile. “Oh come on mum it’s not like we’re throwing her around” Fred whined. “We could if you wanted” George whispered. The trio had learned early on that the best way to annoy the younger groups was to mock flirt with each other. After awhile it became an inside joke that the three found hilarious. Much to everyone’s dismay.

“Come on andi let me clean you up” Molly’s words are sweet but insistent. i know better than to argue with molly over this stuff. Molly is a excellent healer and it would be stupid to deny her help. i looked over at the twins who are grinning ear to ear, they did warn me i suppose. i rolled my eyes once more before following molly to the living room. i sit down on the sofa the twins and i often crowd. It was far too small for three lanky teens. Molly began rustling in a little bag near a bookshelf. She was humming a song and shaking to a tune only she could hear. Ah ha! Molly exclaimed as she pulled out a little jar full of white paste.

“This will help it heal a little faster, it won’t keep it from scarring unfortunately” molly starts excitedly before mumbling off the last part. i knew this, magic was wonderful but it couldn’t prevent scarring in most situations. i had more scars than i cared to count. Molly cupped my face as she smeared the paste over my wounds, i winced slightly. no matter if it had numbing ingriedents or not, this part always hurt

“I know it hurts, just breathe” molly humed. “Do you have anymore?” Molly questions looking me over. “You know the answer to that question” i chuckled dryly as i stood pulling my shirt up with me. Revealing a bandage stretching across my stomach.

Molly sighed, she hated seeing her kids hurt, not that Andi was her kid but it certainly felt like it. Molly peeled the bandage off slowly trying desperately to keep it from hurting too much.

i shuddered biting back tears as i felt the bandage pull healed skin with it.

The twins were watching from the doorway as molly tended to Andi. They knew what Andi looked like after full moons but they never got used to the gashes and bruises she dawned afterwards. Fred turned away, he felt sick to his stomach, he loved Andi, he wished he could take this from her. She didn’t deserve it.

Molly patched andi's stomach up once more and pulled her shirt down over it.

“Put this on your face twice a day and I’ll help you with your back until you go to school then then ask one of your friends to help” molly instructed waving her finger at me to enunciate her words.

“Yes ma’am” i mock soluted, i knew how much that annoyed her. i turned towards the door way and gave George a lopsided grin and peeked past him at Fred who was leaning against a counter.

“Want to show me what your letters talked about?” i said my tone dripping with mischief. The twins faces lit up as they grabbed my hands and dragged me up the stairs, giggling like kids the whole way to their room.

“What are you three planning??” Molly shouted up the stairs. She knew those three were troublemakers at heart. They had been since they met when they were 7. Remus needed help with Andi after a rough full moon and the rest is history. The three of them managed to turn rons teddy bear into a spider once.

#harry potter headcanon #harry potter fandom #harry potter stories #the weasly twins #the weasleys #harry potter #fan fiction #harry potter fanfiction #fypage

3 notes · View notes

magnoliasinbloom · 6 years ago

Text

The Midwife

AO3 :: Previously

The soreness was still there as I sat gingerly at the dresser, while one of Jared’s maids—Suzette—attempted to tame my hair into a semblance of matronly respectability. Jamie had nuzzled me awake, his mouth trailing kisses down my body and asking with pleading blue eyes for a repeat of the previous night.

“I ken once is enough to make it binding, but would ye mind verra much…”

I hadn’t minded.

Dressed in a cheery yellow dress, I thanked Suzette and made my way downstairs where Jamie was waiting for me. He had had to leave earlier to settle his affairs at the university and arrange for our passage out of France. His dazzling smile at the sight of me made me bashful, as he took my hand to help me down the last steps.

“Sassenach, ye look lovely.” His lips grazed my knuckles. “No longer my wee milkweed puff.” I recalled his words when he had tangled his fingers in my hair, the curls wild on the pillow. Desire kindled in my belly, and I remembered that Jamie was now mine to enjoy when I would. We would have that night, and every night after that.

“Suzette tried,” I said ruefully, touching the up-do carefully. “And it was kind of Jared to find me a dress more suitable for meeting your family.”

“I have something else for ye, Claire.” Still in his kilt, Jamie reached into his sporran and drew a small velvet sack. He tilted it and poured its contents into the palm of his hand. Bright pearls interspersed with gold roundels twined in his fingers. “These were my mam’s. I’ve had them since I left Lallybroch. They are meant for my wife, a bride gift.” He stepped behind me and laid the necklace around my neck, fastening it at the nape with a kiss. I touched the cool pearls, the significance of this gesture weighing on me like the ring on my hand. “Do ye like them?”

“They’re beautiful, Jamie. I shall treasure them always.” I turned my head, and caught his mouth. Jamie’s hands rested on the bodice of my dress, but with a sigh he pulled away, mindful of the time.

“Are ye ready then? We canna miss the tide.”

“We sail at noon. I can ask Mother Hildegarde for some seasickness remedies.” I was determined to continue my work as a healer, and Jamie fully supported this. We were going back to l’hôpital to gather my meager belongings; after that we would board a coach courtesy of Jared that would take us the port city of Le Havre. After that, we would be bound for England on another of Jared’s ships. Jamie dreaded this—he had admitted he suffered from crippling seasickness, but there was no other way across the channel.

We gripped hands tightly as we climbed the steps to the hospital entrance. He placed a kiss on my temple once inside, in the vaulted foyer; I could hear the hum and bustle of patients and healers down the stone hallway. We veered away from the main sick room and closer to Mother Hildegarde’s chamber. Jamie planned to thank the abbess and lay down our new plans, as well as leave a small donation to the convent for the keeping of l’hôpital.

Repeated knocks on her door were met with silence. I frowned. “Perhaps she is tending to a patient. Or at the convent. I shall pack my bag and ask one of the sisters where we can find Mère Hildegarde.”

“I will meet ye by the garden door, is that alright?”

“I won’t be long,” I promised. I watched the back of him briefly before turning to the passage leading to the novices’ cells. I stepped into my room, noting the bare plastered walls, the tiny bed, the dust motes floating in the shaft of sunlight from the window. I noticed everything for the last time, before I took my other old dress, a blanket, stockings, and small trinkets that had belonged to Maman from a small chest at the foot of the bed. I folded them inside the same burlap sack I had first brought them in, shutting the lid of the chest with a muted thump. With an air of finality, I bid farewell to the room and left.

Malva was waiting for me in the corridor.

I halted in my tracks, my heart beating hollowly in my chest. Fight or flight? I had no time to waste on the petite salope, and made up my mind to walk past her quickly and hope she did not try to stop me. Malva hadn’t uttered a word or attempted to get close to me. I held the sack in a white-knuckled grip, prepared to use it as a weapon if I had to. I met her eyes with as much steel as I could muster. I brushed against her shoulder when she spoke from behind me.

“I can smell him on you.”

Malva’s voice made my blood run cold. At the same time, white hot anger flared in the pit of my stomach. She had wilfully murdered a woman who had done no wrong—nothing but cross Malva’s path in her vendetta against me. I took a deep breath, turned to her, and slapped her with my left hand, forcefully. Her head rocked sideways, with a satisfying crack.

Malva faced me, hand to her cheek. My wedding ring had cut her, blood seeping slowly from the wound. Her grey eyes were pure hatred. She looked haggard and disheveled since the last time I had seen her. Her hands were dirty—something unacceptable in the Hôpital des Anges—and her apron stained.

My voice hissed across the silence in the narrow corridor. “Do not ever speak to me again. Good riddance, you murdering bitch.” I backed away, wary of turning my back on her after our confrontation. Malva could only stare, the palm of her hand dotted with blood. I hoped it left a scar. I hoped she would look at it every day and remember what she had done.

“Claire!” Sister Angelique’s voice rebounded from the stone ceiling. She turned the corner and found us, clutching her habit and out of breath. I noticed that Sister Angelique was not her usual impeccable self. Her wimple hung limply, covering half her head. Much like Malva, she had a worn-out expression on her face and had a handkerchief tied around her neck loosely. I recognized it as a face mask, a policy implemented by Mother Hildegarde years ago. The scent of vinegar permeated Sister Angelique, as she looked at me imploringly. “We need your help!”

* * *

“It’s smallpox.”

I found Jamie at the garden gate, stopping five steps shy of him. Sister Angelique had taken me to the main hospital sick room, filled with pallets of ill Parisians. After donning a face mask of my own, I had looked around me in horror. Many of them were sailors, but others civilians, a red rash covering what could be seen of their face and hands. Some were fevered, others vomiting into nearby clay basins. Sisters Minèrve and Celeste were also infected, lying side by side. And most frightening of all—Mother Hildegarde was among the sick, her broad and sweating form still beneath a woolen blanket.

“Smallpox?” Jamie’s brow furrowed as he tried to come closer. I jumped back and he stared at me in confusion. “What is it, mo nighean donn?”

“You—you shouldn’t touch me. I could be carrying the disease.” I swallowed hard. All round us, the garden lay dormant in hues of gray and brown, awaiting spring to bloom again.

“Not touch ye? Lass, we are bound for Scotland in mere hours!” Jamie said pleadingly, his hand outstretched, trying to bridge the gap between us. I clutched my hands inside my cloak tighter, the smell of vinegar steadying and familiar.

“I can’t Jamie. I… we can’t go to Scotland yet. I could make you sick, or the ship’s crew… we cannot risk it.”

Jamie was quiet, considering. “Ye say ‘yet’,” he responded finally, a resigned expression on his face. “When could we go?”

“I’ll need seven days. Then, if I am not ill, we can depart.”

“Seven days? Ye mean to stay, love?”

“Jamie, I am needed here. Mother Hildegarde is also ill.” Tears slipped unheeded, knowing what I must do. “Give me a week, so I can help the sisters. Go to Jared, and wait for me. You may already be infected, but if you are not, in one week we shall go to Scotland as planned. We cannot wait and also risk your uncle Dougal’s wrath.”

“I canna imagine Jared will be well pleased either,” he said with a brief smile. “He has already risked much by helping us.”

“’Tis the sailors who brought the illness here,” I replied with a shiver. “The same sailors Jared recommended come here to be healed spread the smallpox. We did not see what it was.” His look of horror helped steel my resolve. “It is my duty to help, Jamie. Please understand.”

He took a deep breath, resigned. “We can wait seven days. I understand this is who ye are, mo chridhe, and I would not for the world tell ye to be otherwise. But can I not stay here and help ye? Another pair of hands would be useful.”

I shook my head. “I would not risk your health, Jamie, or your life.”

“Ye risk yers, why not mine?”

“I need to know you are waiting for me, and that will be enough to get me through.” I was weeping openly now, fear coursing through me. This could go badly for me, but I had to put my faith in God and Maman’s memory and believe that we would prevail, and we would go to Scotland together.

“Malva, she’s a wicked woman, a murderer—”

“Do not worry. I will steer clear of her, and try to never be alone with her. I will be safe.” I drew a shaky breath. “And… you must promise not to come back to l’hôpital. It is dangerous, you could fall ill. Promise me, Jamie.”

Jamie reached me in three strides, despite me trying to push him away. He held me tightly to him, and I surrendered, gripping the back of his coat as though my life depended on it. “I promise lass, if it means this much to ye,” he whispered. This is what it felt like, to be torn between duty and love, and my heart ached, with the knowledge that I might not see him again.

“Ye will be safe. Ye have my name and my family, my clan, and if necessary, the protection of my body as well.” He kissed my hair, whispering words of comfort. “I will wait, Sorcha.” Light—Claire. “I love ye, dinna forget it.”

I set him firmly away from me. Jamie’s face was white and strained, what I was imagined a mirror image of my own. His eyes filled with yearning. With a final kiss to my hand—the one that wore his ring—he let me go. I made my way out of the garden, walking slightly hunched as though I were in great pain, as someone who knows she must keep moving, but feels her life and soul ebbing slowly away. I dared not turn around.

I prayed for the strength to let him go, if only for a little while, and not fall on my knees and beg him to stay or take me with him. Let me be brave enough, I prayed. Let me love him enough to see him away safe while I committed to my responsibility as a healer.

“Go wi’ God,” Jamie murmured behind me.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #jamie and claire #the midwife xv #dinna hate me

154 notes · View notes

darkly-dreaming-imagines · 7 years ago

Text

The Forgotten Wife (Negan X Reader)

Prompt fill request from an Anon:

I have a small idea about Negan’s less than favorite wife finds out she’s expecting and she think Negan will hurt her if found out so she opts out of being a wife and Negan is fine with it and doesn’t give it a second thought and let’s her work for points again and she seems to disappear-but he finds out the truth when Simon makes a comment about how much the former wife’s kid looks like him maybe when theyre eating in the cafeteria?

Note: This is another one of those pairings I may write more for if you guys want and left it open ended to do so. So please if you want more hit up my ask box and let me know or comment on it and I will totally consider adding this to my regularly updated fics because this story may just have some legs yet. I really enjoyed filling this prompt. Though the title is similar this does not take place in the same AU as my ongoing story “The Chosen Wife” you can just say I am shit at coming up with titles. This relationship could develop into one hell of a slow burn, which I have never written before… It is so far from the usual Negan relationship dynamic I write and is fun to write as well. Hope you enjoy!

also if you get where the little boy’s name comes from drop me a comment!

It was funny how quickly everyone seemed to forget your name and who you once were when you just became another worker. It was a blissful ambiguity that you had come to enjoy in the last two and half years since you stopped being Negan’s wife. You were no Amber or Frankie, you were just one of the rare women who actually thought you could get Negan to love you by marrying him. In the life before you had a type, the rough around the edges type of guy. The ones with bad tempers and foul moods. In your mind you thought you could fix them, that your love would save them from themselves. Negan was no different in your mind but he was. Your exs didn’t have a half dozen other wives to chose from and he barely seemed to remember your name back then.

He would come into your room, have his way with you however he so wished and then just leave. He never had a kind word, glance or touch for you. He did his “duty” and that was all. When you discovered about six months into your “marriage” with Negan that you were pregnant nothing but sheer panic filled your body. There were a thousand worse case scenarios running through your head in the days after you had your first suspicions. It was not long before you came to the only safe option, you would ask Negan to work for points again and hide in plain sight.

Negan didn’t care in the slightest when you left. Or the dozens of times he walked past you in the gardens while you were working while pregnant. Or even when he walked past you and his son in your arms in the hall every day. He had forgotten about you and that was the best thing you thought that could have ever happened.

It was almost two full years after the birth of your son before there was even the slightest sign that anyone suspected anything, and it wasn’t even Negan. Everyday while you ate your dinner with your son, Deacon, in your lap Simon watched your little boy intently. Simon was nice enough to you over the years, one of the few who remembered that you were once the less than cherished bride of their fearless leader.

Your attention was peaked particularly on this day as you noticed Negan perched over Simon’s shoulder. Your gaze was fixed on Simon’s lips as you tried desperately to make out what he was uttering to your former husband but he had tilted his head just enough so you couldn’t make out what he was saying. That same sense of panic that you experienced during the early days of your pregnancy came back in a tidal wave of fear and panic. “Come on bubs..” You mutter to your son as you take a napkin and wipe the food from his face and set him down on the bench before standing up.

As you leaned down to pick Deacon up, his small arms draping over your neck, you noticed Negan’s gaze lock on you as he leaned in whispered something to Simon before turning away and disappearing down the hall. Your pulse raced as you lifted your son up and tried to hurry away. Simon quickly moved to block your path as you went to exit the dinning hall. “Well (y/n), how are things going for you sweetheart?” Simon asked with a coy smile as he blocked the doorway with his arm.

You shrugged nervously sifting Deacon’s weight on your hip. “Fine, thank you Simon for asking…” You say quickly trying to muster all the energy you had within you to mask the feeling of panic growing in the pit of your stomach.

Simon gave a little nod and leaned into to look at Deacon who was gazing wide eyed at the strange man with his large hazel eyes, Negan’s eyes, you mind screamed in panic. As Simon leaned back he smirked. “That’s a very handsome little man you have there…”

“That’s very kind of you to say, thank you…” Your voice was hiding less and less of your real emotions with each passing moment and Simon could see it, everyone could. He moved his arm from it’s position blocking the door to around your shoulder. You knew in your soul that this meant nothing good for you or Deacon.

Simon loomed over your shoulder as he leaned in and whispered, “I’m not the only who noticed your boy…” Simon’s voice was low, dark and sent a shiver down your spine. “Negan wants to see you… and the boy… in his private rooms.” Your heart felt like it was going to burst forth from your chest it was pounding so hard. Your grip on your son’s small frame tightened.

“Okay..” You choke out and Simon gives a dark chuckle as he ushers you and Deacon down a path that you hadn’t walked in years. Though it had been years since you were summoned to Negan’s private rooms, you still had the route etched forever in your mind.

With each silent step you thought of a new horror that Negan was going to subject you too upon realizing that you had hidden his only child, his first born son, under his nose for two full years. Deacon did look remarkably like his father, it was still a shock to you that no one had noticed it before. As you stood outside the large doors you leaned in and kissed your son on his cheek. “Just stay with mama, don’t let go of my hand…” You say calmly as you set Deacon down on the grey cement floor on his uneasy feet. His small hand clutching yours tightly and Simon pushed the door open.

Negan sat on the large black couch, Lucille leaning up against the arm of the sofa, his arm draped along the back. He wasn’t looking at your face as your walked in. His eyes were locked on the face of his son. “Thank you Simon… you may go…” Negan’s voice was calm, eerily calm, as he gave his orders. Once the doors closed Negan stood up and took a few steps forward.

Deacon looked up at Negan, his grip on your hand tightens as he tries to hide behind you as Negan finally stands just little more than a foot or two from where you stood. He leans forward and almost instantly you feel the way you felt back when you wore that black dress. “(y/n)… it’s been what… a little over two years since you made the choice to work like a fucking peasant…” Your eyes instantly focus on Deacon’s hand in yours as Negan continues, not waiting for you to answer. “Your boy… he is what… two…just about.” You nod nervously as Negan leans in, his hand grips your face forcing you to meet his gaze. “Now fucking tell me this…” He said in a very dark tone. “Is he mine… or where you a cheating whore…” His grip on your face tightened as he waited for your answer.

Deacon let go of your hand and went over to Negan, balling his tiny hands into fists and started pounding them on Negan’s leg. “NO!” the little boy yelled with all his might obviously upset at your treatment, before you even had a chance to answer. Negan’s hand slipped away from your face as you lunged down and scooped your son into your arms before stumbling back. Falling to the floor with a loud thud.

“Don’t hurt him… he didn’t ask to be born…” You say as you wrap your body around your son instinctively to protect your child. “He is yours… okay. Just don’t hurt him…” You sob, gazing up at Negan who had his hands balled into fists at his side. His face twisted into a snarl as he processed the information that you had just confirmed for him. He took a step forward in anger but stopped when Deacon let out small yelp of fear as the little boy hid in your arms.

Negan looked down at you for a moment still visibly upset and for the first time you noticed a few tears welling up in the corner of his eyes as he contemplated his next move. He kept looking down at Deacon, who was now clutching your arm and peering up at Negan with so much fear in his eyes it broke your heart. “I’m not gonna fucking hurt my boy…” Negan said softly, his voice shaking a little as he leaned down and offered you his hand to help you up. “I promise…” You take his hand nervously, Deacon scooted off and pushed himself as Negan helped you back to your feet. It was the first real kindness he had shown you.

Negan stared at you, his dark eyes ripping a path straight to your soul as he quietly said, “He is my son… you hid him from me…” His voice shook with some level of pain as he glanced down at Deacon who was clutching hand. “I don’t even know his name…” He seemed genuinely pained by this.

“Deacon..” You mumbled softly before leaning down and kissing your son’s mess of shaggy dark hair. “Bubba…” You said softly cupping his cheek. “This is your Daddy...” Deacon glanced up at Negan wide eyed and slightly confused.

Negan leaned down to look his son in the eye. He reached out to take his hand but Deacon pulled away. “Hey now little man…” Negan started. “I know I was mean to Mama…” Glancing up at your for a moment before turning back to your son. “I’m sorry that I scared you… but I won’t ever do that again…” Deacon looked up at you, unsure of what to do. You gave him a little nod reassuring him that it was ok.

Slowly Deacon’s hand slipped away from yours as he took an uneasy step forward towards his father. Negan stretched out his arms and picked the toddler up. He beamed at Deacon as he held his son in his arms for the first time. “You are a handsome little devil…” Negan playfully tickled Deacon’s belly which caused the little boy to let out a sweet chorus of laughter that calmed your nerves for the moment. Negan gazed at his son before looking over in your direction.

He let out a small chuckle, “We tried for years to have kids…” He confided to you in a moment of honesty. “The doctors told my wife it just wasn’t gonna be in the cards for us.” He leaned in and kissed the side of Deacon’s head as Deacon wrapped his arm around Negan’s neck. A tender smile crossed his lips as he continued. “I always wanted this…”

You were genuinely taken aback by his candor and tone as he held your son in his arms relishing in the moment and the little boys surprising show of affection. “I’m sorry Negan… You seemed like you hated me.” You confess softly returning his honesty with some of your own. “I was scared you wouldn’t want my child…” Your voice shakes as your confess your fears and watched as Negan’s face grew solemn with guilt.

He opened his mouth to speak but stopped, reaching out he placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into hug. You hand slipped around Deacon’s back as you rested your head against Negan’s chest. “I’m fucking sorry… I had no clue you felt like that. I never hated you. I barely fucking knew you (y/n).” He gave a small shrug as you pulled back still fairly uncomfortable with his touch.

“You didn’t try to know me either…” You muttered softly take as step back, you hand lingering for a moment on Deacon’s back. Biting your bottom lip as you felt a sense of guilt for your part in this sorted tale. “Never the less..” You start taking a long deep breath. “I shouldn’t have kept the baby from you.”

Negan gave you a quite nod before turning his attention back to the child you shared. “Well, I guess I have some time to make up for don’t I?” He asked Deacon with a little smirk.

The toddler shrugged as Negan bounced him in his arms. Deacon looked fairly confused by the whole situation as you would expect given the events that transpired but there was part of you, finally seeing Negan holding your son. That joyful look in his eyes as he spoke to your little boy in the most tender and caring tone. He was like this different man with Deacon as they sat down together on the couch. Negan motioned for you to join them but you shook your head, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Spend some time with him…” You say with kind smile as you turn towards the door. “I have to get back to work any how,”

Negan stood up from the couch, “(y/n), no you fucking do not…” He said emphatically causing you to turn around and just laugh at him.

“I am not going to marry you again Negan… once in that stable is more than enough for me.” You snap back quickly forgetting that Deacon was in ear shot. Negan took a few more steps closer to you, nearly closing the gap between your bodies.

“I never asked you to…” He placed a hand on your shoulder and you glanced down at it, unsure still of his intentions. “Let me take care of you and Deacon… I don’t want the mother of my child slaving away for points, my son dressed in fucking rags… I know it’s not your fault… let me fucking make things better for him, for you.” As he finished her squeezed your shoulder and you gazed up at him. Why couldn’t you have been like this back then? Why couldn’t you have showed me just a tiny sign that you would have been happy? You ask yourself as you slowly nod your head. Negan smiles softly and gestures back towards the couch and you reluctantly agree to join him.

As you settled down on the other side of Deacon you tried not to smile as Negan started to talk to the little boy about baseball, explaining the game to your eager son who sat perched up n her knees at his father’s side nodding his head as Negan spoke. It warmed your heart to see them sharing such a quite, normal moment. It was cut short by a loud knock on the door. “Fuck..” Negan cursed. “I told them to leave me alone...” He patted Deacon on the cheek as he stood up. “Come on, son…” He said with a little smirk as Deacon hopped down and toddled after his father who picked up Lucille as he stood before the door.

“Come on, this shit better be important…” Negan groaned before glancing down at Deacon who was gazing, wide eyed up at his father. As the doors slowly swung open you stood up and watched as a frantic Gavin and a very angry looking Simon walked through the door. Negan reached down with his free hand held Deacon’s hand as the two men tried to calm themselves.

“We haven’t heard from the Satellite station all morning, not since lights out last night in fact…” Gavin started. Negan glanced down at Deacon who was starting to look frightens as Gavin started to go into more detail about some recent events.

“Do you not see my fucking kid standing right here you dumb shit…” Negan chided Gavin before glancing over at you. “Mama…” He said beckoning you over to him. Leaning down you scooped up Deacon before Negan leaned in. “Go down and get him some better clothes… get yourself some too…” You looked puzzled up at him not quite knowing where he was going. Before you had a chance to speak, Negan just put his hand up and continued, “(y/n) just do it… I have to deal with this now but I will get Simon to come get you once we get this shit sorted.”

“Alright Negan…” You say softly and he gives you a little smile and nod of thanks. “What if they give me shit about points?” You asked softly.

“Tell them take that up with me and give you what you want…” Negan said firmly and you gave a quick nod before walking towards the door.

As you walked past Simon with Deacon in your arms he leaned in and softly said. “Your welcome…” with a small, dark chuckle as you walked past.

Things were about to change, for the better perhaps but something deep within your soul screamed a lot of things for you and your son were about to get a lot worse.

#negan/reader #negan/ofc #negan/you #negan #negan fanfiction #negan imagine #prompt fill #twd imagine #negan x reader #negan x you #negan fanfic #negan fan fiction #negan fan fic

431 notes · View notes

raccoonsinqueen-taxes · 8 years ago

Text

Six Skeletons, One Maid (Now With Twice As Much Daily Fiber) <Chapter 2>

“g’morning.”

You jumped at the voice, turning quickly. You knew that some of your masters could teleport, and you assumed that Mr. Crimson could, as well, but you certainly weren’t prepared for the frequency at which he used this ability. He was leaning lazily against the wall, the small bony wings peeking out from behind his back and dull gold and brown fleece he wore and the usual drowsily sharp grin fixed on his skull. “Good morning, Mr. Crimson.”

He tilted his head. “‘s fine if you just call me crimson. just no numbers at the end.”

You nodded. You had forgotten. “Sorry, Crimson.”

“eh. just wonderin’ how monsters’re doing back home.” He shrugged. “also, i have somethin to ask you. any wide open places ‘round here that wouldn’t mind a bit of landscaping?”

You paused, thinking. “Well, there is the field out back. It was a garden, once, but none of my masters have either interest or skill in gardening. You should most likely ask Master Sans before doing anything, though.”

He winked. “thanks, kid. stop by later for a show?” You turned around, the sound of his bare feet on the floor abruptly ending as he shortcutted off, presumably to ask Master Sans.

“SABLE AND CRIMSON ARE GOING TO SPAR LATER TODAY!”

You turned around at Master Papyrus’ excited exclamation to Masters Blue and Orange. Master Blue looked equally excited, Master Orange less so.

“i dont see whats such a big deal about it, theyre just going to toss around a few attacks.” your honey-loving master shrugged.

“BROTHER, IT’S NOT JUST THROWING AROUND A FEW ATTACKS! IT’S PRACTICALLY CHOREOGRAPHED, THEY’RE SO GOOD!” Blue cried, then, in an afterthought, “NOT THAT THEY COULD TOP THE SANSATIONAL BLUE, OF COURSE!”

“So that’s what Crimson planned, he asked me about an open place and invited me to come look at it later,” you said, thoughtfully. You noticed how Master Orange’s expression became tense.

“GREAT! YOU CAN COME WITH US!” Master Papyrus and Master Blue were practically bouncing up and down at you.

You looked down the laundry basket in your hands. “I’m not sure, I have a lot of work to do…” Although, you had hardly, if at all, ever seen any of your masters ever throw any magical attacks around, and from the way your two most excitable masters were fired up about it, Crimson and Mr. Sable must be very good.

Master Orange nodded quickly. “she does.”

Master Blue pouted, “WE INSIST. YOU CAN GET IT DONE LATER!”

Master Papyrus nodded, giving you pappy-dog eyes. You sighed in mock defeat, and in exasperation at the pun most likely induced by an excess of pun-lovers. “Alright. I’ll come later.”

Masters Papyrus and Blue looked like you had just given them a pound of monster candy. Master Orange looked like you had just thrown out his entire stash of honey.

Mr. Sable and Crimson were standing at opposite ends of the wide grassy field in the back of your masters’ mansion, and you, along with all of your masters, were standing on the sidelines. Masters Papyrus and Blue had had to drag Sans, Black, and Red. You didn’t know why Master Orange was there.

“READY IN THREE?” yelled Mr. Sable to his brother. Crimson replied with a nod, summoning three bones to hover in front of him. The bones fire up into the air, dissipating with a faint sparkle of magic about twenty feet up. As the last bone disappeared, Mr. Sable leapt forward, a wave of jaggedly sharp femurs bursting up from the earth. When the attacks and skeleton reached where Crimson was standing, he simply was not there. You looked around, and there he was, just behind his brother, wings flared and clawed hand swiping at the other’s exposed neck. You almost gasped in fear, even though you knew he wouldn’t really kill his brother, and Mr. Sable turned around, blocking the shorter skeleton’s blow with his radius and ulna and twisting the force against him. The shorter skeleton found himself heading straight for the ground, but he rolled, and pushed himself off of the ground, his arm outstretched at Mr. Sable, and a flurry of long bones, crackling with red energy, flew at him and he met them with a barrage of his own, plain and gleaming white. And then Crimson was at the other side of the makeshift battleground, crouching, and Mr. Sable was still there, tall and proud in the scuffed dirt, and his gleaming slit eyelights fixed on the smaller whose right eye was bright white and whose left was more apparent than ever, and a wall of bones grew up behind the taller, interlocking ribs and femurs and humeri and bones you didn’t know the name of, in an ivory twist like an impenetrable bramble. And an army of skulls, long and draconine, with hinged lower jaws, and sharp jagged horns on the back, came up behind Crimson, and a whine filled the air as light was sucked into their half-opened maws, and then the bones rumbled and hissed as they flew at Mr. Sable’s opponent, and the whine crescendoed into a scream and the day darkened and the jaws opened wide, like a hundred white snakes ready to swallow the world whole, and white beams pierced the air, meeting the bramble-bone-wall. You shut your eyes tightly, sure it had gone wrong, and at silence you opened them, and sunlight shone through dust and Mr. Sable and Crimson were still standing, and grinning, and Crimson wasn’t there anymore and he was leaping at the sky and Mr. Sable was crouching, all deadly grace, and bone clashed with bone in midair and Crimson’s wings were flared and sickly red lightnings were flickering across his bones and his lashing tail and he his eye was shedding a comet-tail of red magic. Your eyes flicked away from the two fighters, at the huge disembodied talons that had formed around Mr. Sable, flickering with bright red. Your eyes flicked to Crimson, who was smirking, his hand held up, clawlike. The behemothic talons around Mr. Sable closed in tighter, and tighter, clenching as Crimson clenched his upheld hand, and then he leapt up them like a huge stair or vertical hopping rocks in a stream, but deadlier, all feral grace and oiled lightning. And he leapt at his brother, and the hands were gone, and Crimson was helping him up, offering his hand. Mr. Sable looked Crimson straight in the eyelights from the ground, poker-faced, and he accepted the hand, and you almost burst out laughing at the sound of the whoopie cushion.

“good spar, bro?”

“GOOD SPAR.”

Master Sans poked your arm, and you suddenly realized that you had began clutching at his hand sometime during the brothers’ alleged spar. You let go quickly, feeling embarrassed. Looking back at Crimson and Mr. Sable, you saw that they were walking over. The moment they arrived at where the group of you were standing, they were swarmed by Masters Blue and Papyrus.

“WOWIE, THAT WAS AWESOME!”

“CAN YOU SHOW US HOW TO DO THE HANDS?”

“AND THAT WALL OF BONES! SO COOL!”

“PAH, I COULD HAVE DONE IT IN MY SLEEP.” You looked at Master Black, his arms crossed as his skull in what looked to be a scowl.

Mr. Sable walked over to him, sauntering like a big cat, but with more bravado. Wow, where were these poetic synonyms coming from? “WHAT, EDGE? NOT JEALOUS, ARE YOU? AFTER ALL, THE SECOND-IN-COMMAND OF THE ROYAL GUARD COULD NEVER BE BESTED BY A SCIENCE EXPERIMENT, RIGHT?” Mr. Sable said condescendingly, leaning on Master Black, “OR WOULD YOU LIKE TO BACK YOUR EMPTY WORDS WITH A SHOW OF STRENGTH? I’M SURE IT CAN’T BE TOO HARD, SEEING HOW SURE OF YOUR OWN ABILITIES YOU ARE.” Master Black seemed about to rise for the bait, until Crimson stepped in, pretending to stumble backwards into Mr. Sable. Which was slightly awkward, since Crimson was barely taller than half of Mr. Sable’s height. “BROTHER, WHY?” the taller skeleton exclaimed, turning his eyelights skyward. You noticed he didn’t try to push the shorter skeleton off of him, in fact he stopped leaning on Master Black to pick his brother up by the scruff of his fleece.

“im like a bike, im two tired, i think id just fall asleep in the middle of your allegedly epic battle with edgypants here, and youd hate it if your favorite bro missed even a second of you trouncing someones coccyx. please wait for me.” Here, Crimson flung an over-dramatic hand over his face. Mr. Sable sighed.

“BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FAVORITE OLDER BROTHER.”

“and with all the extreme competition, im very glad that i have been granted that very esteemed spot, coolest bro of mine.”

“CRIMSON, YOU RAISED ME. I HARDLY REMEMBER WING.”

“STOP YOUR BANTER, I WILL FIGHT YOU TOMORROW,” Master Black huffed, tired of being ignore.

“cool.”

“I HOPE YOU CAN BLACK UP YOUR WORDS, EDGE,” smirked Mr. Sable with a chuckle as the other stomped off in the direction of the mansion, Master Red trailing nervously behind him. Crimson gave his brother a thumbs up.

“Umm, that was very… intense,” you said to Master Orange. “Are their spars usually that death-y?” He opened his mouth to respond but someone beat him to the punch.

“sometimes, but other times they’re pretty funny,” Crimson poked his head in.

“YES. I HAVE THE PICTURES FROM WHEN WE TAG-TEAMED.” Mr. Sable put in. “I CAN SHOW YOU, IF YOU WANT, (Y/N), THEY’RE ON MY PHONE.”

You nodded eagerly, curious who they would tag-team with. The tall skeleton set Crimson down (who proceeded to peer over your shoulder), and pulled out his phone. He leaned down, showing a picture of a yellow, dinosaur-like monster sitting on the shoulders of a tall, bright-red-haired ultramarine-skinned fishy monster, and then the next photo, a broadly-grinning Crimson piggybacking on an equally-happy purple fire monster in rectangular glasses, who looked a lot like a different-colored Grillby. “THAT’S DR. ALPHYS WITH HER GIRLFRIEND UNDYNE, IN THE FIRST PICTURE.”

“and me with the ol’ b-f in the second,” added Crimson.

“wait what?” said Master Orange, looking over quickly, “you have a boyfriend?”

Had he been jealous? Wow, these skeletons have a problem.

Crimson looked puzzled, then he smirked. “yeah, i have a boyfriend. really hot guy, makes a mean burg ‘n’ fries. name’s grillby. bro’s in a relationship with almsal, his sociopathic brother.” At your and Master Orange’s puzzled looks at Mr. Sable, Crimson added, “other brother. sable just got out of one, wing’s with almsal.”

“Wing?” you asked, “That doesn’t seem like a normal skeleton name.”

Crimson laughed. “his full name, well, theres a reason he doesnt use it much. professionally he likes to go by-” He broke off, glaring at Master Orange, who had been desperately signaling for him to shut up. “what, dont want your pretty little maid to know the esteemed name of-”

“shut up,” said Master Orange abruptly.

Crimson huffed. “his last names the same as the collective of green and yellow.”

What was it again? Your masters had only mentioned it once, but they had made such a big deal when you commented on the strangeness of the name. Faster? Gastly? Oh, Gaster.

“ASHTRAY, WHY DON’T YOU WANT (Y/N) TO KNOW OUR FAMILY’S LAST NAME?” asked Mr. Sable, flatly using a fairly insulting (but strangely fitting, in your opinion) nickname and putting his phone away.

Suddenly, Crimson cut in. “you have a nice ‘ghost’, ashtray.” When Master Orange turned around, Crimson wasn’t there anymore. Mr. Sable sighed, turning to walk back inside. Wait, what did the ghost have anything to do with this? And why did it sound like he’d put the word ghost in quotations? And… thinking back, Mr. Sable had referred to himself as a science experiment? What was with that?

Also Crimson had a Grillby as a boyfriend. And a brother other than Sable. That was new.

You decided to head inside, to catch up on the duties you knew at least one of your masters would berate you for not completing.

(Umm, yeah, I tried submitting this once before but I don’t think you got it, anyway, yeah. Sorry for the badly written action scene, and the fact that it seems like two different people wrote this. I think I’m sorta imitating the writing style of 6S1M, but then for the action scene it was more my own. Also Wing (a.k.a Dr. Wing Dings Gaster, The Royal Scientist and designer and builder of the Core) is Crimson and Sable’s brother, same age as Crimson. And he’s going out with Grillby’s adopted brother, a smoke elemental named Almsal. ALL UNNECESSARY INFORMATION. But, I don’t care. *dumps it on your head* And next chapter Sable will be a gentleman and help with dinner. He can actually cook something non-lethal. I believe it will be lasagna. For two reasons, being that I like lasagna, and he’s kinda an offshoot of Fellpap. And I like to think that he can make more than one kind of noodlething. or anything. wait thats three things WHO CARES. *shuts up before the exposition gets any more long*)

Goshawk-Gyrefalcon

This is blessed <3<3<3 I didn’t get it before, so thanks! Excited for the next chapter!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

#goshawk gyrefalcon #6s1m #submission

7 notes · View notes

kampasaur-blog · 7 years ago

Text

MY CITY IS BEING DESTROYED BY CHILDREN

So im picking up my son from monroe elementary after his bus ride home from camp. Bus arrives. I get out of the car and immediately i notice nearly all of the children, some with large bright red marks on both of their cheeks, sobbing so inconsolably that they could not breathe. Some were runnin away from the bus frantically lookin for their parents and some were already clutching their parents tightly and bawling, burying their lil tear soaked faces into their parents stomachs. they kept saying "please i dont ever wanna go back there, i dont wanna do this again, dont make me do this anymore, i was so scared, i didnt know what to do" let me tell you....these babies had the most traumatized faces ive personally ever seen on a kid and it just broke me. At this point i am very confused, concerned, and alarmed. my instincts kick in to try and help a little so i try to comfort some of em. im askin other parents what happened, but they understandably couldnt pay me attention as im sure their minds were probably as lost in all of this as mine. I keep aimlessly sayin wtf is going on and why is everybody crying like this. I start askin some of them if theyre hurt or if there was an accident but they couldnt even speak cuz they were too hysterical. Im trying to calm some of them down a bit like "hey its ok baby dont cry ur ok ur safe." still friggin looking around for adults who arent too absorbed in this mess to ask them wtf is happening. at the same time im searchin for my own kid in the crowd tellin ppl "hey, i cant find my son! is there another bus coming?!" A little girl said no this is the only one. So now im REALLY WORRIED. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY CHILD?! I run into a kid nate knows. him and a little girl are shouting, to what seems like essentially nobody in particular, about having the police called on them by the driver and that they coulda been tossed in juvi. (Honestly they should have been tossed in juvi! this particular kid brought a knife to camp and steals shit constantly from the kids at school especially my son) Grabbed his shoulder and said "calm yourself down and look at me! why?! what happened?! was there a fight? were u involved? Was nathan involved? Where is he??" The boy, (still shouting for some damn reason even tho he is right in front of me), says no nathan wasnt involved. He doesnt know where he is. (Turned out he knew where he was but lied cuz just minutes prior he threatened to beat him up and tried punching him, the little fucker, but staff grabbed his arm midswing) Then he tells me that almost the entire bus was gettin into fight after fight and there were kids punching, slapping, verbally abusing other kids, a lot of whom did nothing to warrant the abuse and continued being abused repeatedly for almost the ENTIRE 3 FUCKING HOUR RIDE, by much older kids whom they were afraid to defend themselves against. I was like "omg this is terrible. where in the hell is my son!" Some guy finally says "they are keepin some kids with staff up by the front of the bus" so i literally gotta force my way thru people who's kids were still hanging off of them in fear. now im crying, other parents are crying, some are screamin at the children who beat up their kids and the children who beat up their kids were screamin at them..... FINALLY.... I find nate. He had been slapped in the face by a 12 yr old girl but he was alright. they had made prior note of his behavioral disorder and quickly got him away from the situation while on the bus and sat him by camp staff. thank goodness. Im asking him, "are u ok?! did anyone hit u?!" before he can answer, suddenly i see an enraged mother almost attack an older girl who hit her kid in the head. The girl is shouting at the jefferson staff member who stepped in AND the mother. She yells out that she hit her in the head, at first, then 2 seconds later she says she didnt, and shouts "yea yea lady! bye bye! fuck off! shut up!!! i didnt hit her!! quit runnin ur damn mouth!! Shut your mouth!!". My. Jaw. Dropped. I saw her gramma or whoever she was doing absolutely nothing about this little shits behavior, actually trying to get the staff to stop speaking to her and leave her alone, and thats when i just plain SNAPPED. When i say snapped folks i mean i damn near deadass rowdy roddy pipered this child. It took every muscle i had to stop that train from derailing. I was pissed. Told her shes an awful disrespectful little shit and will go no where in life with that bullshit. She was like "thank u! Thanks bye! BYE!" Thats when i probably should have split. But i didnt. Conveniently forgot how to adult for a minute there. My bad! She was a repugnant little fart sniffing booger eater who felt a lil too validated from decking a much smaller kid in the head and just, just....fuck THAT... Then i word barfed. "good riddance to bad rubbish youre an awful AWFUL child and should be ashamed of yourself. Shame on you!" i looked at her gramma and shouted "good luck with your apparent lack of being able to deal with that mess of a child! Shes terrible! You have failed!" then basically i walked away tellin her shame on her for sucking. ****************************** A 16 yr old was shot n killed recently. A pastor was shot and killed recently. We got all ages of unsupervised kids vandalizing everything in site. Kids shootin off guns in parkin lots, stealin vehicles n crashin into buildings. breakin into cars 4 valuables or just breakin the windows cuz they feel like it. We got kids having knife fights n runnin round with gd knives, tellin other kids theyre gonna cut em or kill their siblings if they dont hand over cell phones money bikes hover boards u name it. Kids breakin into ppls homes. Kids stealing n vandalizing walmart 2-3 times a day. Kids stealin carts bringing em here and pushing each other around into ppls cars n then they run away. They beat on my son at school n bully him all the time stealin his things verbally abusing him. He got beat up by teenagers just playin with his toys in the backyard! Theres just hoards of em. Never supervised or disciplined. Not once have i seen the parents of any of the kids causing problems in my apt complex regardless of whether theyre 6 or 16. sumtimes theyre out there in the parkin lots screwin around til 2 am. They plain as day are simply not being parented and have no guidance. Sum of these piece of crap parents just dont wanna have the responsibility of raising their own kids period. Sum of em run away n their parents dont see em for days weeks months but never report em missing cuz they dont care. Theyre out there sleepin in abandoned sheds houses alleys parks n gotta steal their food. 12 yr olds smokin pot and having sex in ppls yards. Even when they mess up n end up at the police station n the police either cant even find their parents or they do n theyre told "i aint dealin with it find something to do with em urself" juvenile hall is FULL. There is no where to put them. And they just run away from annie whittenmeyer n nobody does anything. Im dead tired and fed up. I hate living here and im stuck. We dont feel safe anywhere. My kids cant have friends cuz u cant trust the kids nor their parents. Nate had a lil 9 yr old buddy next door and he would come to play n his mom would just leave n lock the door without saying shit to anyone not even him. He'd go home n come back like "nobody is over there" so i had no choice but to keep him with me even if i had shit to do or it was 10 pm n we wanted to go to bed. We have GOT to spread the word about this shit and try n get sum awareness. This is a crisis we are having in the qc. Im sick of the ever escalating crime here. I dont encourage ANYONE to move here. And i absolutely hate that i gotta raise my kids around this. Create a discussion about it. Get involved. if ur readin this n u kno ur kids causing mayhem but still u do nothin dont do right or make excuses then u better recognize UR JUST AS MUCH OF A PROBLEM. if u arent gonna give enuff of a shit about ur own offsprings lives 2 check n change urself then get u n ur kid the hell out of my city n away from me n mine!!

0 notes