#god when he wrote of feeling ashamed earlier that hurt too. & 'no matter what' & 'i will not turn away from the answer' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kimburgess-ruzek · 3 years ago

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shattered.

chapter three: all at once.

summary: burzek/upstead/whole unit. intelligence had been through the worst of the worst trying to get one of their own back alive. Each member has been to their own personal hell. Will everyone make it back, or will the cracks in Intelligence be big enough for the entire team to shatter?

chapter summary: a look into each member of intelligence’s mind after adam sent them home from med.

a/n: this is a pretty slow chapter again but i wrote almost double to this and decided to just split it up. next chapter should be up in a couple of days. i also like the stream of consciousness type writing here. next should have more dialogue and everyone together (finally!!)

word count: 3.1k

masterlist here!

read on ao3!

all at once.

darkness. there’s something about it that makes it both intimidating and peaceful. with darkness, comes the unknown, comes loneliness. but with it also comes quiet, peace. and that’s what consumed kim right now. all around her was darkness, quietness, loneliness. she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. all she could do was nothing. she felt scared, claustrophobic in the abyss of darkness. she wanted to scream, wanted to jump up and down and plead for help, but she couldn’t. something was pulling her down, further back into the darkness, and she just couldn’t move. She couldn’t even fight it, whatever it was. it was too overbearing, too powerful for kim. and all kim could do was panic and be pulled down further.

the warmth of inside the house began to thaw the icy, purplish hands of voight’s. even with gloves, the wind gushed and the snow seeped through the leather. it took all of hank’s power to get the blood pumping through his fingers in order to grip the steering wheel. nevertheless, he persisted. with his cold, stiff fingers, he turned the lock on his door, took off his boots, and trekked to the bathroom for the hottest shower he could dream of.

kevin laid in his bed, eyes open and mind racing. he tried to sleep and it never came. he even tried laying still with his eyes closed, but his mind wouldn’t let him. because every time he closed his eyes, the image of kim, near lifeless in that buick, resurfaced.

god why did it have to be kim?

kevin had spent his whole life witnessing and experience injustice. even little things like being followed by a worker inside a grocery store and being asked where he was going at night, when he was just walking home. little things like that. but as he got older, he quickly realized being a black man in chicago does not lend equality. being a black man in america does not lend equality. and that’s why he wanted to become a cop. because he saw all of the injustices happen in his hometown, and he wanted to create a difference. rewrite the narrative. and while his difference would be small, it would be huge in the eyes of a little boy watching someone that looked like him have his back.

and when the narrative finally started to shift, when people finally began to see the injustices happening, when they decided to not let it go unnoticed, kevin still had to face hardship. this time, though, it was from the people who he at one time thought were his family. the blue family. but when he decided to stand up for what he saw as just, for what america saw as just, those people turned on him. neglected him, sought after him, beat him, manipulated him. and kevin was broken. he was utterly broken. he was scared. no he was terrified. but the one thing that kevin could appreciate was that his team began to see what kevin saw. they saw their team member, their family, being beaten and harassed. and kevin liked that they had his back. he needed that, because he didn’t feel all alone. he felt appreciated, understood, and love. and even though not everyone on the team completely agreed with his beliefs, they all still had his back. even adam, who was a third generation cop, sided with him and not the other blues. and that meant everything to him.

then something in adam switched. and what it was, kevin didn’t know. but something changed, and adam began to change to his old ways. his old habits. and it was gradual. it was slow. it started with the little jabs that would result in an ‘i’m sorry bro, but i still have your back.’ and kevin would push it aside, thinking to himself that adam is trying, but it’s hard to change a philosophy in a short amount of time. but it kept getting worse, adam’s way with the new code of conduct. and with the accumulation of jabs, it eventually became a punch to kevin’s gut. maybe people can’t change their philosophy, no matter how hard they try.

but the straw that broke the camel’s back for adam was this. when kim went missing. kevin saw something he had never seen before, ever, in his eight years of working with him. he saw pure hatred. he saw pure vengeance. he knew adam still loved kim. hell, everyone knew adam still loved kim. but that doesn’t mean adam can do whatever he wanted to, whatever he thought he needed to, in order to get what he wanted. he put a gun to a man’s head. for all they knew, an innocent man’s head. and adam didn’t think twice about it. but just because kevin wanted to go about this by the book, that doesn’t mean that he didn’t love kim too. this was kim. did adam think he didn’t love kim? kim was kevin’s partner. she was his rock when he needed it. she helped raise jordan and vanessa. kevin loved kim. and her going missing was eating him up inside. when he heard that call over the radio, all kevin wanted to do was search every house, every building, until he found kim. but he knew he couldn’t. it would be too slow and too unreasonable. and kevin knew that wouldn’t find kim. and he also knew he couldn’t do that because of everything still happening today. he was still a black man in chicago, and if he went in shouting lies and threatening people with guns, then he would suffer worse consequences than adam did. so as much as kevin wanted to find kim, he couldn’t do it the way adam was doing it. and kevin wasn’t resentful. rather, he was hurt.

and when kevin found kim, all he wanted to do was cry. cry tears of joy because they found her but also tears of sorrow because of how badly she looked. and to be honest, kevin was too afraid to get up close to kim at first for the worst fear. so he checked the warehouse for roy or kent instead. and when jay announced kim was still alive, kevin’s adrenaline shot back up and his mind was laser focused on getting kim to med. when kevin finally got to see kim close up, he couldn’t stop the tears this time. to see his best friend, his sister, beaten, handcuffed, shot, and near lifeless in his arms. it was almost too much to bear. him and jay never spoke a word on the way to med, both too much in their thoughts. kevin, all he could feel was guilt. she shouldn’t have been alone. she shouldn’t have done the undercover pass. it shouldn’t have been her. and maybe adam was right. maybe kevin should’ve fought harder, because if he did, maybe kim wouldn’t have been this dire.

kevin was lost in his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. confused on who it was, he crawled out of bed and trudged his way to the door, mentally telling himself to put his foot in front of the other. when he got there he looked in the peep hole and saw someone he didn’t expect to be at his door.

trudy.

kevin opened the door to the cold chicago wind.

“trudy, what’re you doing here?”

trudy quickly responded through her shivers, “if you don’t let me in within the next five seconds i’ll make sure voight bumps you down to patrol for a week.”

with that, kevin opened the door wider and allowed trudy inside. even though he knew it was a fake threat and he appreciated trudy’s joke, he was too tired to laugh.

kevin closed the door and went to pour trudy a cup of warm coffee. trudy took off her coat and sat on kevin’s couch, blowing warm air to her hands to try and warm them up. after a minute kevin walked to the couch with a mug and handed it to trudy before sitting down and asking again, “trudy, this is a nice surprise, but what are you doing here? is everything alright?”

trudy took a generous sip of her coffee and replied, “well, i just wanted to check on you. you know, see how you were doing.”

kevin was caught off guard. “i appreciate that trudy, i do… i’m hanging in there. still trying to let my mind catch up to me, you know.”

trudy nodded and put a hand to kevin’s leg. “you know, i never got to thank you for being there for kim with jay. you are a strong man, kev. and i am truly thankful.” tears welled up in trudy’s eyes, making kevin’s water too.

“i appreciate that, trudy.”

trudy cleared her throat. “okay, so how are you really doing?”

kevin shrugged his shoulders. “i said i’m doing ok—“ before kevin could finish his sentence, trudy cut him off.

“no. for real, kev. i saw the interaction you and adam had earlier. how are you doing?”

kevin swallowed hard and but his tongue, trying to find the right response. he looked up at his sergeant’s eyes and told what he was really feeling inside.

“i feel alone. i don’t have anybody.”

kevin couldn’t stop the tears this time. and kevin didn’t care, letting them trickle down his face. he was ashamed of feeling this way after everything kim had gone through. he saw it as selfish and unthoughtful. but it was true. kevin did feel lonely. he felt like no one understood him, no one was with him.

this broke trudy’s heart. she witnessed the tension between kevin and adam, and she never saw them like that in her career of knowing them. and she knew they both had their sides, but right now she felt for kevin.

she patted him on the back and said, “look at me. kevin, look at me.”

it took a while for kevin to semi-compose himself and look back up at trudy’s eyes. trudy moved her hand up to kevin’s shoulder.

“you are not alone. you are not alone in this. you have me. you hear that? you have me.”

kevin just nodded, feeling overwhelmed. all he could do was mutter a “thank you” in between his tears. he gave in and leaned in towards trudy, who wrapped him in a hug and let him just feel his emotions.

“i’m not leaving here until you feel everything you need to feel, kev. i’m not leaving you.”

the darkness continued to surround kim. and as much as she wanted to fight, as much as she felt like she needed to fight, all she wanted to do was stop. to give in to the abyss and be pulled down deeper. she was tired of fighting all of the time. she was just tired. and the darkness was becoming oddly calming. just herself. no dangerous situation, no bad guys. nothing. nothing except her and the darkness.

just as kim was about to give in and let the darkness consume her, she felt something. she felt something on her hand. it was something outside of the darkness, outside of the abyss. it felt like another hand. like something, someone was helping to pull her out. kim was confused. she never felt that before now. and she was caught in her decision on what to do. does she ignore the help, ignore the hand and drown back into the abyss where it's quiet, dark and safe? or does she take the hand, take the big leap and see what happens? does she allow the help? caught in her back and forth of her decision she felt the hand again. this time more persistent. and this made kim make an impulse decision and reach out for the hand. she reached as far as she could, only allowing for her fingertips to graze the other person’s fingers. and when she did, she swore she saw the smallest glimmer of light. it was so small, kim could’ve swore she saw lies. but nevertheless, she saw something in the far, far distance. but at the same time, the darkness began to pull harder, dragging her back down. and soon, the hand, along with the light, disappeared, being too far out of kim’s grasp.

the hot water of the shower felt glorious to voight’s body. it was washing away the grime and dirt from his hands. and down the drain also went voight’s lingering thoughts on the last 48 hours.

jay actually got a few hours of good sleep. he woke up to the sounds of car horns and the sunlight shining through the half closed curtains. he looked down and saw hailey in his arms. hailey, her beautiful messy hair perfectly laid on her shoulders, her skin just peeking over the bedsheets, her snuggled into his bare chest. this is how it was supposed to be. no fear, no craziness. just normal, calm, peaceful bliss.

jay couldn’t help but smile at hailey, seeing how perfectly imperfect she looked. she looked as to finally be getting some shut eye, which jay was happy about. he knew something was off about her last night, but he can’t figure it out. and hailey won’t tell him which just raises the concern. and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the proposal. what made hailey want to do that? it is so unlike her character. jay could hardly wrap his mind around it. but nevertheless, he was glad to see hailey actually get some rest after everything she had been through the last few days. and while he wanted to know what went down when he was separated from her, his priority was making sure she felt safe and loved, and if that means just being there for her and letting her talk when she's ready, then he was okay with that.

jay began brushing through hailey’s hair, playing with it with his fingers. this stirred hailey awake. she moaned at the sun and turned over. her eyes ever so slowly opened, and jay smirked at her.

“hey beautiful.” jay said, propping his elbow on the bed, sitting up. he moved his hand from her hair to her back, pulling her to him, leaving zero empty space.

hailey blinked a few times, letting her brain wake up. she let out a groggy, “hi.”

jay let out a laugh. hailey asked, “what time is it?”

jay turned his head and glanced outside at the bright light. he reached down and picked his phone up from his pants pocket and saw the time.

“12:39.”

“hmmm…” hailey let out, snuggling further down on jay’s chest. she closed her eyes, “too early…”

jay grinned and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on hailey’s head. with that she woke up and pulled jay in for another kiss on the lips.

“mmmm, i’m not finished from last night.” she let out in between kisses. she pushed jay down and moved on top of him, gliding down his chest with gentle kisses. she giggled and pulled the sheets over top of them for round two.

jay didn’t oblige.

kim had felt something she knew it. she had felt that glimmer of help. of hope. she tried moving her arms to feel that bend again, but the darkness was constraining her, holding her arms back. it felt as if it was trying to suffocate her.

kim was tired. all she wanted to do was give up. to just let the darkness overtake her. she felt as if she didn’t have the fight left in her.

all of a sudden, kim thought she heard something. it sounded like faint voice. she couldn’t make anything out, but she heard something. someone. then kim stopped for a moment and thought. she thought really hard.

what would happen if she didn’t fight anymore?

sure, her parents would be sad. but if anything, they would just think to themselves, ‘i told you so, never should’ve became a cop.’ nicole would be devastated, but they haven’t spoken in a while, so she would probably learn to manage. same with zoe. the team would be sad. but would they? they would be down a member, but they could always find someone else. i mean she would miss them for sure. she would miss jay and voight and hailey. she would miss platt. she would miss kevin definitely. she would miss adam…

adam.

what would adam do if she stopped fighting? did adam still care about kim? after everything she said to him? after letting her impulses take over her heart? would he even miss her? after putting him with the burden of makayla.

makayla. oh god, makayla. makayla, who had just lost her entire family. who just lost a mother.

this made kim change her perspective. this set off a fight in kim. she couldn’t let her parents watch their child be buried. she couldn’t let the team go through hell to get her back only for her to give up. she couldn’t die before letting adam know how she actually feels. she couldn’t let makayla grow up without a mom. she wouldn’t let that happen.

so kim fought. she fought against the darkness. she didn’t give in. and all of a sudden, kim heard something. something faint. she heard someone’s voice. like someone was talking to her. this was the extra motivation she needed. kim fought harder, and she managed to get one arm out of the darkness’s grasp. she reached out as far as she could, waving her hand around to feel something. anything, that could help. she reached with her fingertips, and she felt something. she felt the hand again. she grasped on to that hand, and when she did, she saw that glimmer of light again. she pulled with that hand, focusing on the light. focusing on adam, and makayla, and her future. kim was exhausted but she kept pushing herself. she kept fighting. she then heard a sound. it was the voice again. she could’ve spent it sounded familiar.

adam?

kim managed to free her other arm and clutched on to the hand with both arms. she pulled and pulled and pulled. and as she did, the light became brighter. light began to overcome the darkness. the darkness began to fade back behind her, losing the fight. kim had tried to focus on the light but it became massively bright for her tired eyes. she had to eventually look away, though still focusing on keeping ahold of the hand.

the light kept getting brighter, gradually, then all at once.

#chicago pd #cpd shattered fanfiction #burzek #burzek fic #kim burgess #kim burgess fic #adam ruzek #kevin atwater #trudy platt #jay halstead #hailey upton #hank voight

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headinthe-fridge · 4 years ago

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My Grandfather’s Lawyer (pt. 4)

⁂ – Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader – ⁂

warning: nsfw, swearing

Summary: Your grandfather, Washijo Tanji, disowned your mother when she was pregnant with you and her hatred towards him was passed on to you. Now, your estranged grandfather wants you to leave your life in Tokyo and come live with him in his estate in the Miyagi Prefecture.

You took a day off and a 6-hour trip, intending to give him a piece of your mind before disappearing from their lives forever. You didn’t expect to see an ailing and fragile old man. Your day trip stretched into weeks and soon, you patched things up with your estranged family and warmed up to everyone -except to one: Ushijima Wakatoshi -your grandfather’s lawyer.

He thinks you have ulterior motives in reuniting with your grandfather.

You weren’t suppose to care what he thinks of you. His opinion didn’t matter.

But it did.

AN: OMG you guys are blowing up my notifs, sorry I couldn’t reply to each of you, I barely have time to linger in any socmed apps bc of work. BUT THANK YOU ALLL!! I Loooove you. I’m trying to make y/n as gender neutral as possible but not sure if i’m doing a good job. But yeah, heres part four! 💖💖

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"I hope you don't mind if I do most of the talking." Your grandfather started.

"There are so many things that I want to tell you but I don't know where or how to start. He couldn't hide the sadness in his voice. Of that, you were sure. "I have a feeling that no matter how hard I try, you will stick to what you know -to what your parents told you.

"Your hostility today proved that I was right about my hunch, so that leaves me no other choice but to tell you everything. And to start, I want to explain the exchange of letters your mother and I had."

"L-letters?" Your brows scrunched in confusion.

"You mean you don' know that... well, I should have known better." His shoulders dropped. I know everything that happened with your family because of the letters your mother sent me, although, at that time, I don't know the reason why she did that so I never bothered to read those.

"It was only later that I realized why," He paused then added lowly. "That was to spite me, of course. She wanted to show me that even if your family isn't rich, you're all very happy. That even without the luxuries, you are complete and you love each other."

The old man looked up at you, his eyes glistening in tears. "Do you know that that hit me terribly? I was happy for her but I cannot admit to myself that I envy her. I envied your family's happiness. It was as if you had nothing to worry about in this world.

"I can't believe that my youngest daughter, my dear Noriko who got everything she wanted without even lifting a finger, my Norik who grew up in a wealthy household, chose to live a simple and plain life with her husband and child." Your gaze was fixated on your grandfather so you didn't miss it when he gently wiped a lone tear that fell down his cheek. You were astounded. You thought you were imagining things.

"But... but why didn't you help us when we asked?"

"It was too late when I learned of your mother's sickness, it was too late when I read the letters. But even if I knew early on, it was clear that she didn't want any of it. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't because I never knew where it was that you live, only that it was in Tokyo. It seemed she used a different address when she sent me those letters."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I don't expect you to believe me now, my dear y/n. But please don't close your heart and mind. Please give me a chance."

"But why now?" Your voice faltered, mind racing. Everything that your parents told you doesn't add up to what the old man said. What is even the truth? Who lied? Was it your parents? But why would they do that? No, they wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain, y/n, but please understand that I'm just a father who loved his daughter greatly. I didn't approve of her relationship with your father because I thought he wouldn't be able to give the things she needed. When Noriko ran away with your father, I was devastated."

You shook your head fervently. "N-no, I don't believe you, you're just saying that because yo-"

Like I said earlier, I don't expect you to believe me." He cut you off then reached for a small brown box that rested on top of his bedside table. He offered it to you.

"I hope that the contents of this box would ease away at least some of your hatred for your grandfather."

You took it with trembling hands. "What's this?"

"You'll know once you open it but if you may, please do that when you're back in your room. And return that box to me, please, as soon as possible. What's inside of that box are more than just treasures."

Your grandfather's crest-fallen expression only heightened your confusion. "You may go now. Your old man is tired and in need of rest." -- With swollen, red eyes, you blinked the tears away to clear your vision. You tried to contain your sob as you placed the letters back inside the box. It was your mother's letters for your grandfather.

you briefly wondered why your mother even bothered to write these letters when half of them were full of hatred and anger for her father.

But at the same time, you couldn't blame her. Aside from loving your father so much, she also had her own principles and greatly values her dignity. Plus, the fact that your grandfather disowned her also terribly hurt your mother.

Your head spun. You somehow felt ashamed of yourself; how you acted earlier, and all the things you said to your grandfather.

But then again, none of that matters now. There was also nothing you could do to change what happened in the past so you decided to only bother yourself with the present, with what needs to be done now.

For a long period of time, you paced around the confines of your room but instead of coming up with a plan of action, it only made you tired. You let out a deep sigh before laying on the futon. The best thing you could think of right now is to sleep through it and silently hope for everything to be okay tomorrow. ---- You woke up the next morning with a heavy heart. What happened last night still vividly replayed in the forefront of your mind, as if it happened only seconds ago. You could still hear the deep longing and sadness in your grandfather's voice, the anger in your mother's letters, and your hostility towards him.

Now that you knew the truth, staying here would be too much.

Groggy and groaning, you willed yourself to get up from the futon and prepare to leave. You glanced at the wrinkled clothes that you wore yesterday, you were only gonna wear it during the trip so that will do.

You were all set when your eyes landed on the small brown box. You needed to return it to your grandfather, the letters are important to him.

The heaviness in your heart alleviates. Despite the harsh and hurtful words your mother wrote in those letters, your grandfather still kept them and considered it more than treasures. You picked it up from the chabudai. You're going to say goodbye as soon as you return it to him.

It would be better to go back to Tokyo. To go back to your previous life before you met your long lost family. Yes, it would be best to go back to Tokyo and forget everything that happened for the past 24 hours. Now may not be the time but you hoped that your relationship with your grandfather will take on a good turn.

Someday. But not now.

As soon as you stepped out of your room, dead silence welcomed you. You made your way to your grandfather's quarters but the creeping silence got to you. Did you wake up too early or do the people in this house just stay in bed too late?

You shrugged away the thought when you arrived in front of the old man's room. You were about to call out to him when someone grabbed your wrist.

"Good, you're awake. You're really the reason why I quickly came back. Let's go." Your grandfather's lawyer declared at pulled you to god knows where. "Huh? Wait, where are you taking me?" You tried to pull your wrist away from Ushijima's grip.

"I will bring you to your grandfather. He's in the hospital right now and kept calling for you, so whether you like it or not, you're coming with me."

You unconsciously let yourself get dragged along. The moment you heard that your grandfather is in the hospital, worry filled every fiber of your being.

You now fell in to step with him, his tall frame looming beside you. He still hasn't let go of your wrist. You looked up at him, his cold eyes met yours and you immediately looked down.

"What happened to him? And how is he?"

"If you really want to know then I suggest you ask him yourself." He said dryly.

His apathetic tone irked you a bit but you decided to keep your mouth shut. The ride to Sendai General Hospital was short and silent. His brooding and aloof demeanor didn't help in subduing your growing ire for him. But seriously what is his problem?

Part 5

Taglist: @thegrumpyhag @sushij1ma @valoryess @yakus-yakult @ly-nia @ushi-please @plutoglass @kokofirebangbomb @strawberryy-milkk @melanieacademy @defunkitatedmess @lunarknox @wtoshii @kyomihann

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu reader #haikyuu x you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x you #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushiwaka

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ladymostdeject · 5 years ago

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I Use My Outside Voice (Because I Have No Choice) Chapter 1

Hamilton hurried into his office, Thomas right behind him. He flung his briefcase back onto his desk, heedless of the laptop inside.

Hamilton didn’t even flinch at the noise, and he doubled back to close the door.

“Why does Washington always send you when he wants something from me? It’s like he thinks he can irritate me into submission.”

“Nobody sent me this time.”

Thomas rolled his eyes so hard his neck popped. “What do you want, Hamilton?”

“I need this bill passed. It’s stalled right now, and I need it passed.” He moved Thomas’ briefcase to get at the papers he’d left on the desk. He clutched them to his chest, face earnest.

“You’re talking about the bank bill?” he asked. Hamilton nodded and shifted on his feet nervously. “Why are you this wound up about it? It’s just a weird little regulatory bill. Those die in committee all the time.”

Hamilton puffed up his chest. “I wrote it.”

Thomas sighed so hard it almost hurt. “Of course you did.”

“It needs your support. If you support it, the other moderates will fall in line. Madison, Woodhall-”

“No.” Jefferson leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms.

“Okay, while that’s a compelling argument, I was really hoping for a little bit more back and forth. Is that all you really have to say?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “No, I will not support that bill.”

Hamilton huffed, “Why not?! It doesn’t violate any of the major Republican Party stances, it doesn’t threaten you or Virginia in any way, it’s reducing certain banking regulations. Look right here, where it says-” Hamilton thrust a couple of the pages towards Thomas, who took them and promptly dropped them in the garbage.

Hamilton squawked. The mean little thing in Thomas’ chest purred.

“I can’t support it. Word has come down from on high, we have to object to anything y’all want. Doesn’t matter what it is. You can’t come down here anymore looking for compromises from the moderates, the answer is going to be no.”

“And you’re okay with that are you? Total gridlock for the next two years ?” he cried. No actually. It made Thomas sick. “It’s not the way things are supposed to work! We’re supposed to be making the country better!”

He circled back around his desk to give himself a moment. “I don’t know what to tell-”

“I didn’t know you were a coward!”

Thomas thought his patience was at its end already, but apparently it could stretch even thinner. He clutched his desk to keep from leaping over it and throttling Hamilton. “Fine! Do you want to know what I think? Even if I could help you I wouldn’t. It’s a bad bill. It is way too long. It looks like you’re trying to hide something in all that circular language.”

“It is not circular! Or too long! It’s exactly as long as it needs to be! It’s thorough and precise!” He gestured wildly.

“It needs to be about fifty thousand words shorter.” Thomas was starting to get his second wind. He had forgotten how much fun it was to wind up the other man.

“Fifty-” he sputtered. “That’s half of it!”

“And another thing, it puts an outrageous demand on an already strained system.”

“No, it utilizes a system that’s already in place to-”

“Also, if you really want bipartisan support, you need to remove the clause about omegas.”

Hamilton looked thunderous before, but suddenly he looked downright deadly. “I will not,” he growled. “That clause removes a century old system of oppression.”

Thomas shrugged. “You wanted my opinion.”

“I want your vote.”

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “You can’t have it! Just wait until the next time you have a congressional majority. That’s apparently how it works now. My god, Hamilton, learn some tact! You stormed in here demanding my help, you’ve shouted at me, and you’ve argued with every one of my suggestions. You can’t just strong-arm everyone into doing whatever you want. You’ll never get elected if this is the most diplomatic you can be!”

Something he said struck Hamilton hard. He looked gutted, and sounded hollow when he said, “I’m never going to get elected. That’s why I need to pass this bill.”

Thomas grimaced. “Oh, for- I didn’t mean right now, obviously. I meant that in the future, you need a good lesson on how to talk to humans beings, not that-”

“No. I’m retiring,” he spat like it was the filthiest word he knew.

Thomas surprised himself by laughing. It was a deep, belly laugh. “Sure from the White House staff, but we all know you'll move on to something else. The House maybe? Hamilton, you and I both know you're never going to truly retire. You're going to die at age 97 on the Senate floor after thoroughly dressing down Congress.”

Hamilton collapsed into the chair by the desk like his strings had been cut. “No, I’ve got two years.” Thomas opened his mouth to refute such a blatant lie, but he plowed on, “I'll never be able to successfully win any election, because that requires people to like you. Nobody likes me. No. I am un-electable. If I’m going to make my mark, I’ve got to do it now, while I’ve still got Washington backing me. Even if all I can do is write a weird little bank bill.”

Thomas feels ice crawl down his back, and even though he's never even considered it before, he suddenly knows it’s true. There's a handful of omegas in congress, but every single one is cute. Wholesome. Quiet. Every single one has a wife or husband and a gaggle of children. Hamilton has none of those things. He has a loud mouth and huge opinions and an inability to keep those opinions to himself. Most damning of all in the court of public opinion, he has a list of ex-lovers as long as his arm. He's not the kind of omega people like to see on TV.

“Moreover, I have very few positive connections. There is no one else who would be willing to hire me after we’re done in the White House. I make enemies everywhere I go. I have what I have because Washington trusts me. Sees what I can do. I've worked for him for twenty years. And in the beginning, I even had to fight for him to give me my due. I've been clinging to his coattails. I may be able to get some bullshit job to pay the bills after our term ends but probably never in politics again and definitely never somewhere with as much influence as I have now. I have fought tooth and nail for every single thing I have, and I've reached the end. I've peaked, and there's nowhere else for me to go. No, when George retires, so do I.”

Thomas feels the world shift beneath his feet. He'd never even considered Hamilton's future. He's never given a thought to how his gender might affect his career. He just assumed he'd always be hanging around DC, stirring up trouble and bothering everyone within hearing range. And if he'd been a beta, or hell, an alpha, Jefferson was positive Hamilton would be a thorn in his side until his dying day. But omegas get married, they have children, and then they leave the workforce.

He racked his brain for an omega that's over 40 still working in DC. He comes up with that same tragically short list of senators and representatives he'd thought of earlier. He thinks about the secretaries and assistants and baristas he sees around town. Every single one is a cute young thing, flirty and sweet the second they catch on that he's an unbonded alpha. Where do all the omegas go?

Surely they're not all chained to their stoves. They run charities and volunteer at hospitals, but are never on the payroll. They hang demurely on the arms of the people he rubs elbows with. They are mothers, PTA members, and soccer team chauffeurs. His own mother had never worked a day in her life.

But what if she had wanted to? She was brilliant, always keeping his father on his toes with their lively dinner debates. Would she have been happier with a career? How is this never a question he'd asked her when she was alive? How is this not a question he'd asked himself?

He's suddenly ashamed that he's 45 years old, and he just learned something so new and so big. He doubts she could have just gone out and gotten a job, certainly not one worthy of her intellect. Not back then, but if what Hamilton is saying is true, then maybe not even now.

Things are supposed to be different. It’s illegal to fire an omega when they get married or pregnant. It's illegal to discriminate against them during the hiring or promotion process. And before this very moment Thomas had never once considered the omega population's lack of upward mobility might not be due to genetic temperament and lack of desire.

But Hamilton certainly doesn't seem inclined to find a mate and settle down. And it's not that Thomas forgets he's an omega, it's just that it’s a lot easier to lump him in with the betas and alphas he knows. He's irritatingly bursting with ambition and pride. And if Hamilton can't have the career he deserves, how many other omegas are trapped in lives they don't want? Not everyone has the strength of will to fly in the face of hundreds of years of social conditioning, middle fingers held high, verbal abuse cocked and loaded. Not everyone has the fortitude to claw their way to the top. He has been blind. Worse than that, he's been stupid. He stumbled over to his desk chair and collapsed much like Hamilton had.

What was that clause in the bill about omegas? Something about removing the forty-eight hour wait period on omega’s requesting large withdrawals from their bank accounts without an alpha or beta’s co-signature? And removing the bank’s ability to vet the purpose of the withdrawal and deny the withdrawal if they deem it irresponsible.

Everyone knows that omegas are bad with money, and poor at resisting temptation. That law is there for their protection. To keep them from-

The scent of distressed omega finally registers through his haze of thoughts, a citrus-y tang overpowering his usual sweetness. Because Hamilton is an omega. The omega White House Communications Director wrote a comprehensive bill about bank regulations. And while the man himself is very controversial (and exhausting), with his fighting and his Twitter tangents and mile long list of exes, he has the ear and the unwavering trust of the leader of the free world. If the goddamn White House Communications Director wants to withdraw a substantial sum of his own money, he has to ask the bank nicely.

“Jesus, Jefferson.” Hamilton was smirking. Why was he smirking, didn’t he know Thomas’ whole system of beliefs is a lie? “I didn’t realize the thought of me retiring would be so upsetting. Are you gonna miss me?” Read the rest of Chapter One Here

#jamilton #hamilton #hamilton the musical #a/b/o #fanfiction #lady writes #lady talks

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peculiar-sunshine · 5 years ago

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Forgetting How to Feel Part 2 (Sodapop Curtis x Reader)

Hi gang! So a while ago, I wrote a Soda fanfic, and I said that I would write a part 2 for it if anyone wanted. Well...no one asked for it. But fuck it, ya girl is still gonna do it anyway! Enjoy!

Link to Part 1 right here 💕

TRIGGER WARNING: strong language, alcohol use, and suicidal tendencies

Lying in bed that night, Sodapop craned his neck up to look at the clock on the bedside table, trying his best not to wake Ponyboy.

2:37 AM? He thought to himself, slumping back down on the pillow. Dammit. I can’t fucking sleep.

He couldn’t get the memory of breaking up with you earlier that day out of his head. He kept replaying the image of your eyes welling up with tears, the way the happiness in them seemed to fade away like the sun falling below the horizon. He could still feel the well-deserved sting of your hand slapping his cheek, and the pain that yanked at his heartstrings as he watched you race off down the street. He had hurt you something awful, he knew he did.

But the thing is, he didn’t exactly know why. He wasn’t sure why in the hell he said that he was still in love with Sandy. In fact, he didn’t even care at all about her anymore…right? Sure, he still thought about her every once in a while, about how her life was now and if she and the kid were getting along okay, but that didn’t mean he wanted her back. Did it? After all, she was the one who broke his heart. She was the lying little whore who spread her legs for some other man and then took off without saying goodbye, not him. So why did he still get such a lousy feeling when he thought of how she used to bury her face in his shoulder when she’d let out that adorable little laugh of hers?

As he pondered over this, he suddenly heard someone banging furiously on the front door.

Jesus, who the hell could that be at this time of night? He though, slowly getting up and walking to the living room.

He opened the door and in stumbled a noticeably drunk Two Bit, his car parked haphazardly in the driveway.

“S-Soda…” he slurred, “listen, man. I took Y/N to a party at Buck’s tonight…and, uh, she…she…”

“Well c’mon, spit it out, Two.” Soda said.

“Y/N went…missing.”

“WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN Y/N WENT MISSING?!”

A few seconds later, Darry and Ponyboy ran in to the living room, sleepy-eyed and confused.

“Who in the hell is doing all that hollering in here and waking us all up?” Darry questioned, grumbling like a bear fresh out of hibernation.

“I dunno…” Two said, turning back to Soda. “Y/N and I got some booze from the s-store, she was real hurt over you, man. And after we drank it all we decided…to go to Buck’s and see if Dally was there…but we stayed ‘cause there was a party going on…and I remember talking to a pretty little broad a-and seeing Y/N talking to some guy and having a few drinks…but the next thing I knew, I couldn’t find her. I didn’t…I didn’t know what to do, so I came here. Look, I-I’m real sorry.”

“Oh my god.” Soda said, horrified.

“Pony, go get dressed,” Darry instructed, “She could be in a lot of trouble. We’ve got to go out and find her, now.”

***

After driving to damn near every sleazy joint in Tulsa that was still open at this time of night, Sodapop was about ready to call off the search and go straight to the police. But he knew better than to get the cops involved, those bastards couldn’t give a shit less about greasers or their girls. He could just see it now: some pudgy, bald officer—probably the father of one of the Socs—conducting a feeble search of the neighborhood before scolding him and Two Bit—now passed out in the passenger’s seat—for being no good hoods and allowing Y/N to get lost. He would say that she probably deserved it, though. She ought to have more respect for herself because a good girl wouldn’t get herself into that kind of trouble, no sir, not at all.

By this time, he had driven clear out to the edge of town, to the giant bridge crossing over the Arkansas River. It was pitch black out and Soda could barely see beyond the headlights, but he could just barely make out a figure perched on top of the guardrails a short distance ahead. It was swaying back and forth, almost ready to fall off. As he got close enough to shine the headlights on it, his stomach gave a violent jump.

“Y/N, get down from there right now!” he screamed, leaping out of the car and running towards you.

Your brain was swimming around in your head as you chugged the last half of the bottle of cheap wine you were holding and chucked it into the river below. You heard a familiar far-away voice say your name, but all you could focus on was the rushing water, wanting desperately to drown in it for some reason.

“Y/N what the hell are you doing? Get down!” Soda grabbed you by the arm and pulled you down off the guardrail, causing you to tumble onto the concrete road.

“Hey, l-leave me alone, you asshole,” you slurred, struggling to get to your feet and standing back up on the guardrail. “I w-wanna jump off of here and fly! Fly far, far awaaaaay!”

You wobbled forward and your foot slipped, causing you to almost fall off the bridge. Luckily, Soda caught you by the waist just in time, which sent you into gales of laughter. He pulled you back over the guardrail and carried you back to the car, his heart pounding.

***

You woke up the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes through the blinds on the window. Your head throbbed like you had just been hit with a sledgehammer and your stomach felt sour. You didn’t recognize your surroundings at first, but once you realized that the chest you were cuddled up to belonged to a certain shirtless movie-star handsome greaser, you felt confused as hell.

The last thing you could remember from last night was going to Bucks with Two Bit with a broken heart and a purpose. So how the hell did you end up here, in your now ex-boyfriend’s bed? Did your stupid drunk ass walk here in the middle of the night to try and win him back? Oh god, did you sleep with him?

You fought the urge to throw up when Sodapop opened his eyes, giving you that adorable half-smile of his. “Morning, doll, how ya feeling?”

You wanted nothing more than to bolt out the door and run back home. You quickly sat up, but instantly regretted it as the room started to spin.

“Whoa, baby, take it easy.” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and gently pulling you back down. Your brain felt like it was about to burst out of your skull, so you sighed and gave in to him.

“Soda, did we have sex?” you finally asked.

“What?” he replied incredulously, “no, of course not. I would never do that to you, not while you’re drunk.”

“So…how did I end up here then?”

“Two Bit came here around like three in the morning, all drunk off his ass. He said y’all went to a party at Bucks and you went missing. We drove around looking for you and found you all the way out on that bridge by the river. You were about to jump off.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. You know, you scared the ever-living hell out of me, Y/N. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

“Oh you did, did you? Well guess what, you already did when you fucking dumped me for Sandy, you dick face. I meant it when I said I don’t ever wanna see you again. I’m out of here.”

You launched yourself out of the bed—despite the protests from your head and stomach—and made your way to the door. Sodapop did the same, but just as you reached for the doorknob, he threw his body in front of it.

“Y/N, wait.” he said, grabbing you by your shoulders.

“Let me go!” you demanded.

“Please just hear me out, baby.”

“I said let me go, and don’t call me ‘baby.’”

“I’m not letting you leave until you listen to what I have to say.”

“Oh my god, fine. But it better be good.”

You plopped back down on the bed and crossed your arms. Soda sat down next to you, and you scooted away, earning an anguished sigh from him.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t blame you for being upset. You have every right to be. I hurt you real bad, I know I did. And I’m so sorry. I was a complete jerk to your, and I can’t say sorry enough. But listen. Last night, when Two said you were gone, I…it’s like…my heart stopped beating. It felt like someone just tore my chest open and ripped it right out. Right away I started thinking, ‘oh my god, what if something bad happened to her? What if one of the Socs got her? What if she’s lying in a ditch somewhere or been kidnapped or something?’ I never felt more terrified in my life, not even when my parents died. But when I saw you standing on top of the guardrail about to jump off, I swear to god I felt my soul leave my body. That sounds corny as hell, but goddammit that’s what it felt like. It’s like I forgot how to breathe all of a sudden. And then I started thinking about if you actually jumped, if you actually…died.”

At this, he did something completely unexpected: he started to cry.

For as long as you had known him, you had never seen Sodapop Curtis shed a tear, not even when Sandy left him. He was too tuff to cry, or so you thought. But seeing him, with his head in his hands and sobs racking his body…it spoke volumes. You soon felt tears stinging your eyes also.

“I did a lot of thinking last night while you were laying her with me.” he finally said once he calmed down enough to speak again. “I don’t love Sandy anymore. I don’t even really know that I ever did. And it’s not her that I miss, it’s the memories of all the good times I had with her. But that doesn’t matter to me anymore, because after all that happened last night, Y/N, I realized I don’t ever wanna live in a world without you in it. I want you here with me, always. I’m begging you, please give me another chance. I…I love you.”

Tears were now pouring down your cheeks like Niagara Falls. “You love me?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do. And I’m ashamed that it took me this long to realize it.”

“Oh, Soda.” you flung yourself onto his lap and wrapped your arms tightly around him. You pressed your lips against his and he scooped you up in his arms, internally jumping for joy.

“Be my girl again?” he asked in between breaths.

“Of course.” you smiled.

After a very lengthy make-out session, Soda laid you down on the bed and cuddled up to you, stroking your hair until you both fell back asleep.

#The Outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #Sodapop Curtis #soda x reader #s. e. hinton #Ponyboy Curtis #darry curtis #two bit mathews #romance #this story is lowkey trash #but that's okay because I had fun writing it

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arthurflecksgirl · 5 years ago

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STOMPIN ON A DREAM *erotic Arthur Fleck short story *

Arthur Fleck and Reader

Involves: mental hospital, mental illness, sex

It was a quiet night in Arkham state hospital.

The only noise that was quietly floathing through the air was someone humming a song. Not loud, but still noticeable from the other side of the door. Doctor Finn didnt payed much attention to it. The patient with the case number 064823 did it since he came here 7 months ago. He always seemed to live in his own world. Most days it doesnt even seem to bother him that he is locked up in here. Thats how it seemed. But you knever know how it looks like on the inside of the patients heads. Especially when it came to Arthur Fleck.

He was very nice most of the time, not paying much attention to the other patients. Unless he wants to tell some jokes he just wrote down in his messy looking journal he carried with him everywhere he goes. Even to the bathroom. The doctors checked the diary daily, to make sure its fine for him to have it with him. All in all he was one of the most quiet patients, which doesnt mean that the doctors felt comfortable around him. He was still an unsolved mysterie to them. Even to himself. Always in his own world but still observing. Always daydreaming, talking to himself but still having the presence of someone who can change not only his but your own reality within a second. Some new doctor even left weeks ago because she was so drawn in by his presence, she was afraid to fall in love with him. Even though he never even talked to her or even noticed her. The intense look in his green eyes, the smirk on his face and the scar on his upper lip which made him look unpredictable and vulnerable at the same time was too much for her to handle. He was in his mid 30ies, his face slightly weathered but insanly attractive. You could hear him dancing through the hallways some nights, always playing a song in his head. His slim body moving graceful, light as a feather. Always an undefinable expression on his face. A very beautiful but somehow broken man with a traumatic childhood. And alone. Always alone.

Arthur was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling in his white room. White exept for the red , big, messy written letters at which he was staring at.

"I thought of quitting baby, but my heart just ain`t gonna buy it"

He was closing his eyes. The red letters were still there. Now with a black background.

"Quitting" stood out now. The letters started to vibrate in his head. He got nerveaus, so he tried to calm himself down by humming the words. "I thought of quitting baby..." his voice as soft as his hands. His lips shaking a bit while trying to concentrate "...but my heart just aint gonna buy it...." his hands checking his chest, if he still had a heartbeat "...and if I´d think it was worth one single try..." he felt his heart beating, so he must have been still alive. "I`d ride on a big bird and then i´d fly". He opened his eyes. The letters were still there on the ceiling. Bt they stopped moving. He wasnt sure if it was a good thing that his heart was still beating. So many times he wished for it to stop. Just to get rid of all the darkness around him. Of all the blood. Like the blood onthe ceiling which stared down at him. Judging him.

He tried to remember why he even came here. Why he spent the last months in this room. But nothing came to mind. He looked at his wrists and noticed some cigarette burns. Maybe he tried to hurt himself. Maybe thats why he got locked up. He checked his wrists for more. No scars. "Who knows" he whispered to himself as the door suddenly opened and Dr Finn came in.

"Good morning Mr. Fleck. Could you please starting to get ready? Today is your day, remember? You can go home."

Arthur kept staring at the ceiling "Maám?"

"Yes Mr. Fleck?"

"Why havent you cleaned the ceiling? The bloody letters made me nerveaus all night"

The young doctor with her long, black hair smiled "Thats no blood, Mr. Fleck. You took a lipstick and wrote it two days ago. We cleaned it so many times but you still keep writing it again"

"I see. Its...its my fave song, you know?"

"Mr. Fleck did you hear what I told you? You can now pack your stuff and go home. But no hurry, just take your time, okay?"

The door closed as Arthurs mind wandered again.

He closed his eyes.

"Hey Arthur, how is it going? Did you missed me?"

He saw you standing there on other side of the room.

"I think I did (YN) ... oh yes.. I did !"

"Good to hear, Arthur. I missed you, too. Its been so long."

He kept staring at the corner of the room. You were beautiful, smiling at him.

"I cant wait to touch you again, Artie. To kiss you"

Arthurs hand was still lying on his chest, now making its way down. He felt his ribs popping out. His skinny body looking starved. He wasnt eating like he should. All the meds stopped his appetite. His hands sliding over his hollow belly, further down and stopped between his legs.

He could hear your voice from across the room.

"Touch yourself for me, Arthur. I am watching you"

He nodded and grinned at you. Then focused on his own body again.

He was in his underwear only and stuck his left hand in it.

The letters on the wall now a lighter red. Lipstick. Obviously.

"You know this is my lipstick right there" he could hear you say.

"The same lipstick I kissed you with, remember?"

He softly started to play with his dick.

"I`m ...not sure (YN) "

He closed his eyes again. He thought it was the lipstick he owned by himself back from the days when he used to put clown make up on. He was a great party clown. With a huge painted on smile. But maybe that was just a story someone told him.

"Oh sure it is mine, Arthur. And I will kiss you again with it. Till you`re out of breath. I will smear the red all over your face"

"Yeah?" a smirk on the left side of his lips which lifted up his scar. Made him look even more attractive. His almost shoulder long, brown hair messy pressed against the pillow.

"Sure. And I wouldnt kiss you on your lips only."

Your voice echoed through his head.

"Where else?"

"Keep on touching youself, Arthur. Its my hand doing it."

"Its your hand (YN). Yeah I....I can feel it"

He softly squeezed and caressed the part between his slender legs, biting his lips.

He imagined you, lying on top of him, petting his sweaty curls. Calling him beautiful. It was your hand between his thighs as he felt waves of lust beginning to floath allthrough his body.

He now got rid of his underwear, his gentle hands around his dick which is getting harder as he imagines you rubbing yourself against his shaking body.

"Arthur, I can feel you all the way inside of me. Pull me closer. Please Arthur! Its could be never close enough!"

His hands up and down faster now.A silent moan coming from his thin lips.

He wanted to come closer. Entering your body, wearing you like a coat that keeps him warm in this cold, dark world.

He wanted to get closer to you, so he pushed himself into you. So gently but with an almost unbearable intensivity. Just like when he was dancing. His face expression somewhere between pain and bliss.

"Arthur. You`re everywhere"

So were you. Your voice was everywhere. It wasnt only whispering in his ear. It filled the room, echoed from the walls. Your voice was a vibration between his legs, telling him to love you till you can`t breathe anymore.

"Do you love me (YN) he whispered.

All he wanted was to be loved. To be touched. he was graving it all through his life.

All this lonelyness was laying heavy on him, like a straight jacket. Holding him back from dancing with the ones he loved.

"I love you more than anything." your voice came from the letters on the ceiling.

"You have so many different sides. And I love every single one of them"

He masturbated harder now, humming.

"I`ve been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate a poet"

Your moans echoing through his head.

"...a poet, a pawn and a king"

"No matter how many ups and downs you may have, Arthur. I will never leave your side. We are one! Can`t you feel it? We are one body, one mind"

""I`ve been up and down and over and out..."

His eyes twitching from excitement. He is breathing heavier now, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering like butterflies.

He can almost taste your tongue in his mouth. Feel your hands touching the sweaty curls in his neck.

His voice still whispering "I have waited so long for this".

He could feel the blood pulsing in his sensitive parts.

You were the girl of his dreams.

The one he thought about in his darkest hours.

All of his sexual fantasies he wrote in his journal were written about you.

His only light in a world of white walls and darkness.

He felt the weight of your body on his fragile pelvis.

Arthur pressed his head into the white pillows as he was about to cum.

He couldnt take it anymore.

"(YN) *moaning* Oh my god, this is just....fuck me. Please (YN). Love me!"

Red lettering blurring his vision.

He couldnt read what it says cuz the feeling of being able to cum this hard overwhelms him.

Black out.

Melodies.

So many melodies which don`t fit to each other.

So many colors blurring his mind.

Arthur presses his hands against his ears.

The sound won`t go away.

"(YN) ? "

No answer.

His hands are touching the sheets, so he could check if he was still lying in bed.

He was. Wet sheets.

His eyes wandered across the room.

He was alone.

Arthur touched his forehead to check if he had a fever dream.

He was unsure.

His greasy curls hanging in his tired eyes.

He felt a bit ashamed while he was putting his white underwear back on.

He crawled back under the sheets which he wished smelled like him but they didnt.

Another stare to the ceiling.

Red letters.

Lipstick. Blood maybe.

Someone was knocking at the door.

"Knock knock" he said as the door opened.

"Mr. Fleck, time to wake up. Maybe you will try to eat a bit more today?! You lost some weight again"

Arthur closed his eyes.

"You came earlier and told me I can go home now"

Dr. Finn picked up the diary from the floor.

Taking a close look through the new written pages.

"More song lyrics, huh Mr. Fleck? I am afraid you can`t go home. Its the first time I visited you today. Have you took your medication?"

"Mhhh hhmmm"

"Did you had some visions again, Mr Fleck?"

The melodies got more quitet now.

The walls looked bright and shiney.

Even the lettering on the ceiling was gone.

All cleaned up.

He put his finger upon his lips, looking in the doctors eyes. Humming. Silently. But you could still hear the words coming out of his mouth.

"..some people get their kicks, stompin on a dream"

Arthur smiled.

THE END

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthurfleck fanfiction #joker fanfiction #joeker #joker #shortstory #dc #writing #mental illness #arkham

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is-it-madness · 4 years ago

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My Glorious Purpose | Loki x OC Chapter 9

A/N: We’re on a roll now!! There miiiight be a few hints here or there about upcoming plot points 😏

Pairing: Loki x OC (Tera Digitalis)

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warnings: Does self-denigration count?

Chapter 9: Staffs and Knives

(Tera’s POV)

The next morning, I find a note from Nat, apparently there’s an emergency, the whole team is gone. I realize that meant it’s just Loki and I. Nat wrote they shouldn’t be gone for long, but she gives me clear instructions to stay away from Loki. I feel alone, but I don't want to find Loki, I’m still embarrassed from last night.

I decide to head down to the training room to continue practicing with my staff. I’m getting better at it, but not good enough to engage in combat. I grab my staff from the cabinet, scroll through my playlist before settling on Hall of Fame, and begin practicing. After about an hour, the staff twirls easily in my hands. I begin walking at a fast pace while practicing to improve my agility, focusing on more than one thing, incorporating jabs and blocks. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a dark figure standing, watching me. I stop my staff and take out my earbuds to see who it is.

Just my luck.

“Hey,” I say, panting slightly, to the god standing in the doorway.

“Mortal,” he says indifferently.

There’s a silence.

“What are you doing?”

“This?” I ask, gesturing to the staff.

Loki nods.

“It’s a new fighting technique I'm learning.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, his arms crossed.

“You’re learning to fight… with a stick?”

“You don’t always need weapons, you know.”

“Yes, but I don't see how a twig can induce pain.”

I laugh. “It’s called karate. It’s a form of self-defense. You aren’t supposed to use it against those who are weak. You can only use it on those trying to hurt you,” I explain. “And trust me, it can hurt a lot.”

He starts walking towards me. I notice he changed out of his battle armor he had arrived in. He’s now wearing a long sleeve dark green shirt, black joggers, and a pair of Nike’s.

“I doubt it could hurt at all,” he says, smirking.

“Of course you would think that,” I respond, rolling my eyes, turning away from him. I start twirling my staff again.

“And what do you mean by that, exactly.”

I turn back around to face him, still spinning.

“Oh please, you think that since you are a god, we can’t hurt you.”

He sticks his hand out, stopping my staff with his forearm. I’m spinning so fast that it smacks into his arm and bounces back the other way.

“Are you implying that you can hurt me with your precious stick?”

“N-no,” I slightly start to panic. I learned at a young age to never, ever anger a man.

“Well for one thing, I doubt you would even be able to land a blow, you Midgardians are terribly slow. And even if you did, I guarantee it would do no more than give me the sensation of a cool breeze on my person.”

“Are you challenging me?” I ask, becoming bolder.

“Are you willing to accept?”

Great. Not only did I try to avoid him by staying down here, but he interrupted my practice, and now he’s calling me slow and weak? I want to smack that smug look off his face.

There’s a look of confusion on his face, but it’s quickly followed by a smirk. He’s in my head again. Of course he is.

He takes several steps back, arms open.

“By all means, I would love to see you try.”

I smile. “I can’t.”

He frowns in response.

“I told you, this is self defense. I can’t strike you unless you hit me first.”

His frown remains and he turns away. “I thought perhaps we can parley. Well isn’t that a shame.”

At his last word, he spins back around quickly and throws a dagger at me. I duck, narrowly avoiding it.

I look at him in anger. He’s smiling. That idiot is smiling!

“What the hell was that?!”

With his smile still plastered on his face, he says, “I have made my move. Now it is your turn.”

I smile and start twirling my staff again.

He returns the smile and flicks his wrists, two more daggers sliding out from inside his sleeves.

I step towards him, my staff a blur.

I stab my staff at him, but he avoids it, rolling in my direction. He comes up on one knee and slashes at me. I stumble backwards, unprepared at his agility and unbelievable speed. He slices his knives upward, but I counter them, holding them back with my staff. We struggle in that position for several seconds, before he stands, forcing me down on my knees, our weapons still interlocked. I’m quickly getting tired, I know I can’t hold this position much longer. Loki knows this too, a smile forming on his lips.

“Care to surrender?”

In response, I fall on my back and kick his stomach. He grunts and falls to the floor. I hurriedly roll away before he can land on top of me. He gets to his feet, clutching his stomach.

“That was a dirty move Midgardian.”

“Almost as bad as you throwing a knife at me,” I tell him, smiling sweetly.

He slashes upwards at me, I hit his wrist with my staff, forcing him to drop a knife. I kick it away before he can pick it up. He grips his other knife, bringing it downward for a stab. I swipe my staff at him, but he evades.

We start circling each other.

“I must admit, you lasted longer than I would have expected.”

Laughing, I respond, “And I hit you when you said I wouldn’t be able to.”

“I suppose,” he says begrudgingly.

He abruptly runs to me, knife raised. I step-side and strike the back of his knee, with my staff, hard, just like Nat had shown me. He crumples to the floor, unmoving.

“Loki?”

I take a tentative step forward. He doesn’t say anything and remains completely still.

I drop my staff and run to him. I kneel by his side.

“Oh no. Loki? Are you okay? I’m so sorry. Oh God. I’m so sorry.”

I reach out to touch his arm, when suddenly I’m flipped on my back, my arms pinned to my sides, Loki on top of me.

He’s laughing. “Sentiment. You mortals are so easy to defeat when you worry about the well-being of your opponent.”

“That’s not fair!” I argue. “I thought you were hurt! You can’t blame me for checking if you were okay!”

Smirk still on his face, “No, I suppose not.”

He stays on top of me, his long hair falling over his shoulders. I suddenly realize how close we are and start blushing.

“What’s the matter?” he asks me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Nothing,” I say avoiding his eyes and before he starts reading my mind, I bring my knees to my chest and kick out, effectively throwing him off me.

He rolls sideways, groaning.

“That’s twice, Tera.”

I race out of the training room before Loki can see my emotions overwhelming me.

I run to my room, close the door, run through my closet, close the door and run into my bathroom, closing the door. I slide to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.

I’m so embarrassed and confused.

I’m still ashamed of what happened with my mission and yet I had decided to tell Loki, of all people. And to make matters worse, I hugged him! I don’t know what I was thinking last night. He said that it wasn’t my fault, but I know the truth. He’s probably disgusted by me, seeing me as a slut. Giving my body up to men. I definitely can't tell Loki I know what he thinks of me. I deserve this.

Sick with myself, I take a shower, letting the hot water pour over me, wishing it would just consume me. Every drop of water that falls off me rings with accusation.

Slut, slut, slut.

The only indication of my sobbing are the hiccups I try to hold back. I had done something wrong, I would have to pay, just like old times. Memories of my past resurface with my tears, flashbacks playing out before my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

I fall to the floor, my chest heaving with my sobs. I can’t breath. “Mom.”

I call for my mother, asking for her—begging for her. For her arms to hold me. But she’s gone.

Gone.

(Loki’s POV)

I groan, picking myself up off the ground. So close. I was so close to hearing her thoughts before she pulled that move on me, undoubtedly knowing what I was trying to do.

Clever girl.

I assume she had run off to shower after our little row. I’m rather surprised that she had been able to last that long against me. And she managed several hits. Impressive. For a Midgardian of course.

I head back to my chambers, still clutching my stomach. I collapse on the bed, wondering what Tera had thought that made her blush. Perhaps it is our proximity. Or the fact that I had lingered above her a second too long. I hadn’t done it on purpose. In fact, I would have gotten off her quicker if it hadn’t been for her eyes. I already knew they were a brilliant blue, I noticed that when I first saw her. What I did not know is that they are rimmed a dark sea green colour, and brown flecks in them. I’ve never seen anything like it. But there is something else behind those eyes. Pain, suffering, hurt. A great deal of hurt. I wonder what it is, but I do not want to pry. I know she is still humiliated by last night's events. That’s why she was in the training room for so long, before I came, forcing her to interact with me. I know the team had given me strict instructions to not go near her when they left, but since when do I pay heed to their rules?

I heard some of her thoughts earlier, and they pain me. She believes I think of her as a whore. But I don’t. The problem is I did not know how to tell her. I do not believe she would take kindly to me confessing that I invaded her privacy.

I stay in my room until dinner, when Thor and his friends return from whatever it is they were doing. Thor is trying to convince me to eat something called a-a Pop Tart? Yes, that is what it’s called, but I turn him down. Thor and his obsession with Earth. I notice Tera does not emerge from her room after our spat. She stays in her room the rest of the evening. I do not know why, but it bothers me. Something in the depths of my consciousness arose, whispering a thought to me. I immediately push it down. Down with the memories I force myself to stop thinking about, down with the rest of my feelings that I had buried long ago, buried deep in the ground along with two children.

Part 10

#loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki (marvel)#loki #loki fanfiction #marvel #MCU #My Glorious Purpose #tom hiddleston #loki x oc

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hysterialevi · 6 years ago

Text

When the Devil Cries pt. 6

Author’s note: The gang’s first robbery! Enjoy :)

From Eddie’s POV

SAINT DENIS, RYAN RESIDENCE

THAT NIGHT

“Don’t think too much about it,” Arthur’s gentle voice replayed in my mind. “Just aim, breathe in, and...”

A smile crept onto my face at the sweet memory whilst I sat at the piano, examining the gun he bought for me earlier.

Arthur was kind enough to gift me a beautiful Schofield revolver that had been decorated with a sleek rosewood varnish, brass frame, and blue-steel barrel. I also decided to purchase a carving of a buck on the grip, just to give it a personal touch, and hadn’t been able to stop staring at it since.

It truly was a gorgeous weapon, and it would always bring me pleasant thoughts of the day I got it...but even then, I hoped I’d never have to use it. Things were crazy enough for me in Saint Denis, what with all the chaos in my life. The last thing I wanted was to be forced to shoot someone.

But I supposed Arthur was right in the end: it never hurt to be armed.

“Oh God, Eddie...” I muttered to myself in embarrassment, thinking back to when Arthur taught me how to shoot a gun. “...You absolute moron.”

The man actually had to hold my arms in place because I was just that clueless.

He was so kind during the process, and showed no signs of impatience, but I didn’t even want to think about how much of an idiot Arthur must’ve thought I was.

I mean, it didn’t take much to see that he was insanely experienced with firearms. He handled guns better than an author handled a pen...and to see someone like me attempt to shoot one -- Arthur probably wanted to use me as the target.

Well, no. He probably didn’t.

Arthur was genuinely kind, unlike most of the other people I’d met. I could see it in his eyes, even though he spoke so lowly of himself.

He claimed he was a bad man, and yet he offered me help every time we ran into each other. I’d never seen him commit an immoral act, and he seemed to actually care about people, despite how much they might’ve annoyed him sometimes.

Deep down, he had a heart of gold. And I didn’t know what Arthur’s idea of “bad” was, but it certainly didn’t match mine.

Putting the revolver away, I returned to the piano and flipped through my notes, hoping to get in some last-minute practice. It wasn’t my first time performing in front of a large crowd, and I had been through this before, but I still found myself rather nervous about the show to come. After all, the entirety of the audience’s focus would be on me, and I just prayed I wouldn’t screw it up under the stress. I couldn’t afford to.

Relaxing my hands, I began to play the same melody I performed for Arthur the other day as my fingers danced across the keys, causing me to think back to the portrait the man had made of me.

Even though I had my suspicions Arthur was somewhat of an artist, I didn’t expect him to be that skilled. The portrait had a surprising amount of detail in it along with a rough but beautiful technique of shading, and it almost felt like I was staring at a mirror.

He even scribbled down a few words underneath the drawing with a type of handwriting I never thought I’d see from a man of his background, and wrote out the words I said to him when he came to my house.

Arthur truly was a marvel. The kind of man that only appeared once in a lifetime.

I just never thought it’d be during mine.

“...Ah, there you are.”

Jumping at the sudden voice, I instantly retreated my hands from the piano as if I were touching a hot stove, whipping around to see who had paid me a visit at this late hour.

A sense of anxiety began to inflate inside me upon seeing my guest’s face as I slowly dragged down the piano’s lid, clearing my throat in an awkward manner before greeting them.

“...Thatcher,” I said, averting my gaze from the man. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Evidently not,” Middleton replied, prowling into the room. “I wanted to discuss the matter we were talking about earlier, when your...friend interrupted us.”

I glanced out the window, peering into the night’s blackness.

“...Now? Isn’t it a bit late?”

Thatcher helped himself to a glass of wine before having a seat in the same chair Arthur used, his lifeless, smoke-colored eyes never leaving me.

“Well, I would’ve come earlier, but seeing as how you were out gallivanting all day, I didn’t exactly have the chance. Did you have fun with Mister Morgan? He certainly seems like...quite the riveting character.”

I hesitated to answer.

“...What do you want, Thatcher?”

Middleton took a sip, studying me for a moment with an astute glare before responding.

“...I want my money, Edward. The money that you said you’d repay ages ago. The money that I can easily get from Rose if you aren’t around anymore. Only...he won’t give it to me if he finds out you’re still alive.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “For someone who claims to be his own man, you certainly are loyal to that rat.”

I rested my elbows on my knees. “Look, I’m trying my best here, Thatcher. I said I’d pay you back and I will. But you keep asking for money when I have none to give. I just need some time. And patience. Fortunately for the both of us, the profit from tomorrow’s show should pay off the debt. And then our business will finally be concluded.”

Middleton lightly drummed his fingers against his wine glass, emitting a series of soft but sharp clinks.

“Good,” he said, his calm yet guttural voice rumbling in his throat. “Because I’m done waiting, Mister Ryan. If I don’t get my money soon, I might just have to finish the job, and bring Atticus Rose the blood he paid for.”

“I understand,” I reiterated. “Just...please. Give me some more time. I don’t have the money yet, but I will soon. All I need is a while longer. I beg you.”

I actually felt ashamed saying those words, and frowned upon myself for behaving in such a manner.

Good god, I hated begging like this. It made me feel so weak. So helpless. It was humiliating. And all for what? The empty promise of survival? For all I knew, Middleton could’ve been planning to kill me after collecting my debt anyways. He’d never have to tell anyone about our little deal, and he’d get double the reward from Atticus just for bringing my head.

I had lured myself into a trap like the fool I was, and as far as I could tell, there was no way out of it.

What the hell was I supposed to do next?

Considering my offer, Thatcher furrowed his brows in thought as he downed the rest of his wine, afterwards setting the glass down and silently heading for the door.

The man didn’t say anything, and the only thing that could be heard at the moment was the soft thud of his shoes hitting the floor, but I could still tell there were about a thousand different thoughts tangling inside his head.

I didn’t know why Thatcher was bothering to show me any mercy. He could’ve just put a bullet in my head here and now, and put an end to this...game. But for whatever reason, the assassin had decided to spare me in exchange for money, and pretend like I never even existed so long as he got the reward he was promised. It made me wonder if there were any ulterior motives behind his actions, and frankly, I was terrified to find out.

Middleton took one last look at me before showing himself out, pointing up a single finger.

“...One day,” he settled. “That’s it. One more day to live, or to pay. The outcome depends on you entirely, Eddie.”

I reluctantly agreed with the extension, silently cursing Thatcher for his endless cruelty. I wanted more than nothing to break out of the leash he had around my neck, but I knew I was powerless to do so. After all, I was no match for a man such as Middleton.

He had killed dozens of people in the past, and if I even attempted to fight back, I knew damn well that Thatcher would easily send me to an early grave.

Good lord...part of me kind of wished I had allowed Middleton to kill me back in England.

A defeated breath escaped me. “...Very well,” I replied. “One more day.”

Thatcher seemed pleased.

For now.

“Good. Otherwise, you know what happens. Until then, farewell, Mister Ryan. I’m glad we could come to an understanding. I just hope you can come through with it. ...For your sake.”

From Arthur’s POV

THE NEXT EVENING

SHADY BELLE

“Well, well, well!” Dutch exclaimed in an impressed tone, eyeing me up and down as he waved a cigar around. “Look at you, big man! You know, you don’t look half bad when you’re not covered in blood. Half of you is all I can see most of the time. Hah!”

I adjusted the ascot tie clinging around my neck, attempting to give myself some room to breathe as I squirmed in my suit.

A noose would’ve honestly been preferable at this point.

“Is this really necessary, Dutch?” I questioned, feeling like a pompous idiot.

“We want to grab as little attention as possible on this heist,” he reminded. “That means we have to fit in. Especially you and Mary-Beth. So yes, it is necessary.”

I shrugged. “...Fine. So, is the plan still the same?”

Dutch nodded. “Most of it, yes. The only thing I’ve decided to change is your role in this. Instead of pretending to be a couple out to see a show, you and Mary-Beth are gonna wear some masks that Charles and I snatched. The same masks that the actors will be wearing.”

I felt my heart stop. “The actors? Oh lord, Dutch. Please don’t tell me...”

He let out a guffaw. “Have no fear, son. You won’t be going on stage. I just need you and Mary-Beth to pretend like you’re a pair of actors who were...late to the show or something. Just keep the clerk distracted. Meanwhile, Bill will sneak into the ticket office from behind and...‘convince’ them to hand over every single dollar sittin’ in that register. When that’s done, the three of you will meet Charles outside. He’ll have a stagecoach ready to go once you’ve got the money, and then all of you will get the hell outta there.”

“And if somethin’ goes wrong?” I asked.

“Then we do whatever we must to escape. But the ideal outcome here is: no one dies, and we’re out of the theater before anyone even figures out what happened. If the law does somehow get alerted though, do not head straight back to camp, and split up. Understand?”

“Got it.”

Dutch patted me on the shoulder. “Then I wish you good luck. Oh, and put this on.”

Handing over one of the most flamboyant accessories I’ve ever seen, Dutch presented a porcelain mask decorated with bold jewels, paint, and feathers...as if to rub salt into my wounds.

I took the hideous thing into my hands, observing it with a face of fear as it stared back at me.

“If I had any good luck I wouldn’t be wearin’ this as a robbery mask.”

“Oh, just wait ‘till you see what Mary-Beth has to wear. You’ll be forgiving me later.”

I slipped the mask inside my overcoat. “The money will be forgiveness enough.”

He chuckled. “That it will. Well, be careful today, Arthur. And keep your wits about you. This job should be easy enough to pull off, but you know what they say. Expect the unexpected.”

I waved goodbye to Dutch, heading out to find Mary-Beth.

“That’s all I expect.”

ONE HOUR LATER

Squeezing myself into the stagecoach while Charles climbed up top, I found myself sharing a bit too much room with Bill as the both of us were forced to practically touch knees, barely able to fit in this box with wheels.

“And people say I'm grumpy.” I remarked, noticing the less than happy expression on Bill’s face.

“Shut up, Morgan.” He snapped back.

“Hey,” I replied with a chuckle, “at least you got the honors of wavin’ a gun around. Dutch wants me to keep mine holstered. All I get to do is stand there...and let the clerk gawk at me.”

Williamson rested a hand on his knee. “I’m surprised Dutch even let me take the money on this one. Usually, he always puts you in charge of emptying the register. Or the vault. Or pockets. Or whatever it is we’re stealin’ from.”

I leaned back in my seat, doing my best to get comfortable for the ride ahead.

“Well, Dutch did say the best way to pull off this mission is to fit in. And no offense, Bill, but...you kinda scare the shit outta people.”

Bill scoffed. “And you don’t?”

I let out a sigh. “Oh, I will once I put this mask on. Looks like someone skinned the devil.”

Williamson crossed his arms and stared out the tiny window. “At least you’ll have no issues fittin’ in, then.”

“Heh. That I won’t.”

Opening the stagecoach’s door, Mary-Beth joined the conversation as she plopped herself next to me, showing the most amount of excitement out of all of us. There was a certain spark in her eyes that made it look like she hadn’t stepped outside for ages, and she certainly seemed much more relaxed. Well, at least one of us was happy.

“Hello, fellas.” She greeted, tidying her gown.

“Hey there, Mary-Beth,” I responded. “You seem eager to get to work.”

“Oh, I am. This is the first big heist I’ve done in months. I’m just so glad Dutch chose me to come along with you boys. If I had stayed in camp for another minute, I might’ve lost my mind.”

Bill adjusted his suit. “You’ll lose it much faster out there.”

I smiled at Mary-Beth. “Well, I look forward to hearin’ your retelling of this one at the campfire.”

The young woman smirked. “It was just the three of us, sneakin’ our way under the moonlight’s dreamy gaze as we prepared to rob the grandest theater in all o’ Saint Denis...”

Bill grumbled. “...and we looked like fuckin’ idiots.”

We all chortled at that as the stagecoach began to move, prompting us to put our gear on.

“Alright,” I said with a soft laugh. “Enough of that. Get your masks on, people. The theater ain’t far from here.”

Mary-Beth followed my instructions and slipped hers on, causing my eyes to widen out of surprise.

“Jesus -- Dutch weren’t kiddin’ about your mask.”

She sighed dramatically. “I know, I know. First heist I get to go on in forever...and this is what I have to wear.”

I pulled my mask out of my coat, strapping the thing around my head.

“Perhaps I’ll forgive Dutch, after all. Anyway, good luck to both of you. Stay calm, and stay alert. No one has to die...and ideally, no one has to figure out what we’re doin’ before we’re gone. ‘Cause otherwise, I don’t feel like puttin’ on a second show for these folks.”

Mary-Beth gave me a firm nod. “We’re ready, Arthur.”

“...Then let’s do this.”

SAINT DENIS, THE RÂLEUR

Walking up to the theater once all the guests had already purchased their tickets, Mary-Beth and I approached the front doors together just as the show was starting to begin, giving us the perfect opportunity to slither in.

There were plenty of empty stagecoaches and horses waiting outside, and the closer we got, the more we could hear the muffled cheers of the audience enjoying the performance. Judging by the volume, there was going to be a hell lot of money just waitin’ for us to snatch. I only hoped that everything went according to plan.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Looks clear. Bill, find a way into the ticket booth. Quietly. Mary-Beth and I will distract the clerk in the meantime. Once you’re inside, we’ll grab the money from the register and meet Charles back here afterwards. Then, we get the hell outta this city before anyone even knows what happened. Got it?”

Bill pulled up his bandana. “Got it.”

I turned to Mary-Beth. “And you?”

She grinned. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good. Then let’s get to work.”

Breaking off from the group, Bill went on his own path while Mary-Beth and I hurriedly strolled towards the front doors, both our hearts pumping rapidly in our chests despite our calm exteriors.

It had been a long while since anything went right for the gang, and if I was being perfectly honest, I weren’t too confident about the this robbery either.

There were next to no cops around, even less witnesses...and the amount of money being promised to us almost sounded too good to be true. Part of me wanted to believe this was just a good score and that we were lucky enough to seize it, but my better judgement knew this wasn’t going to come without consequences.

Well, whatever storm was headin’ our way, I had faith that Dutch and the gang would be prepared for it. We survived Blackwater, we survived the mountains, and we sure as hell weren’t dying now. We had gone too far to go back.

Pushing the glass doors open, Mary-Beth and I casually sauntered in as the ticket clerk’s head perked upwards, greeting us with curious eyes.

“Ah, are you more of Abbington’s actors?” He asked, recognizing the masks. “Well, the show’s already started, but you should have enough time to slip in before anyone notices. Don’t wanna be late to a performance this big. Especially not with how many people are in the audience. Y’all have really planned something special tonight, haven’t you?”

I spotted Bill sneaking in from a side door as he stuck close to the walls, gradually inching his way to the booth.

I approached the clerk, keeping his attention away from everything but me.

“You have no idea,” I replied. “But actually, we’re lookin’ for a friend of ours. He’s another actor. Mighta seen him stumblin’ around here? He’s about this tall, always has a sour look on his face. A clumsy feller, but he knows what he’s doing. Just has a...a habit of being late, sometimes.”

The clerk shook his head. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen anyone like that, friend. Have you checked with Abbington? Or perhaps Miss Marjorie?”

I decided to drop the subject. “Nah, we already asked them, but no harm done. We’ll keep looking for him. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere--” I paused in the middle of my words and pointed in the distance, letting out a chuckle. “Ah, never mind...there he is.”

Following my gaze, the clerk froze when he suddenly heard the sound of a gun being cocked behind him, not daring to move a single muscle as Bill nearly nailed the barrel into his head.

“Don’t scream,” I immediately warned, keeping my voice low. “Don’t cry. Don’t even breathe. Just give us the money in that there register. Otherwise, Benjamin Lazarus ain’t gonna be the only one catchin’ a bullet tonight.”

Bill applied more pressure with his rifle. “Do what he says.” He demanded.

The clerk held up his hands in surrender, whimpering out of fear.

“O-Okay, okay! I’ll give you the money. J-Just, please...don’t hurt anyone.”

“Oh believe me,” I threatened as the man desperately opened the register, “we don’t wanna hurt nobody. But we sure as shit will. If you give us enough of a reason to.”

Fumbling through the register with trembling hands, the clerk hastily gathered all the money clips and handed them to Bill while the show carried on inside, entrancing the crowd as they clapped and cheered, completely oblivious to the fact that their money was being taken away.

“That’s it...” Bill urged him. “Keep the cash coming.”

Mary-Beth whistled out of amazement, staring at all the green now sitting in Williamson’s bag.

“Whoo, would you look at all that money? I guess you boys was right about this job.”

“Just don’t let your guard down,” I reminded. “We ain’t outta here yet.”

Tossing every coin he could find into Williamson’s bag, the clerk threw his hands up in the air once again when he was finished and stared at us with a horrified, bewildered expression.

“Is that all the money?” I questioned.

“...Y-Yes!” He answered. I didn’t believe him.

I decided to bluff. “Alright, well if that’s the case...I guess we’ll just finish you off and search the rest of the place ourselves.”

“What?!” The clerk yelped.

“It’s nothin’ personal...” I reassured. “Just don’t wanna leave behind any loose ends. I’m sure you understand.”

“W-Wait!” He exclaimed. “There’s no more money, but there are some very valuable props backstage. Made out of gold and silver, they are. Jewels, too. You could sell them for a fine price, I imagine.”

“That so?” I asked. “I’ll go check. See if he’s tellin’ the truth. Mister W, you stay and make sure our friend here behaves. Miss G, why don’t you go on and bring the money to where it belongs? I’ll meet up with you two later.”

“Sounds good.” Mary-Beth agreed as I began making my way backstage.

“Be careful back there,” Bill warned. “Never know what you could run into with these freaks.”

I chuckled mischievously, throwing a glance back at him.

“Which freaks we talkin’ about here?”

BACKSTAGE

Roaming quietly through the clutters of props, mannequins, and furniture stored in the back of the theater, I cautiously searched for the valuables the clerk spoke of as I did my best to avoid any of the staff who could’ve been wandering around.

Right now, it seemed like most of the people involved in the show were on the other side of the curtain, and so far, I hadn’t seen any other actors backstage. Still though, I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I could sneak around well enough, but I didn’t want to push our luck more than we already had.

Sifting through the multiple boxes and crates scattered around, I picked up a few things here and there that I thought we could sell to a fence, constantly checking behind me to ensure no one crept up while I wasn’t looking.

Even if I didn’t manage to take everything though, we had stolen more than enough money for one night. I knew Dutch said there’d be loads of cash for us to lift at the theater, but I had no idea just how many people were actually gonna be pourin’ through the doors today.

We must’ve collected a few hundred dollars. At least. And that was without all the stuff I found back here.

Maybe Dutch wasn’t quite as lost as I expected. Maybe the old man had been right all along, and I was the one changing. Not him.

I just wanted what was best for the gang. Sure, there was a lot of rotten people within our big, dysfunctional family...but we also had good people. Those who deserved a better life. A life that we were capable of giving to them. All we needed to make that happen...was one last score. And then, we were free.

“Don’t...move.”

Halting in my tracks, I came to a stop when I heard the unmistakable sound of someone pulling down the hammer of a gun, and a series of gentle, yet unwavering footsteps coming from behind me.

Shit.

“Throw your weapon away.” They ordered.

Careful not to provoke them, I steadily turned around to face the confronter as I left the props on the floor and complied, never taking my eyes off them.

“Listen, boy...” I said, slowly rotating my body. “I didn’t come here to shoot no one, but that don’t mean--”

Cutting off mid-sentence, I felt my skin turn to stone when I finally laid eyes upon the stranger’s face, suddenly regretting ever coming here in the first place.

Pointing a Schofield revolver directly at my head, Eddie stared me down with a frightened but unbreakable strength in his forest-colored eyes as he tried to calm his own breath, clearly terrified by the whole situation even if he didn’t show it.

Well...if there was a god above, he certainly had a unique sense of humor. I couldn’t believe it.

I was being held at gunpoint.

By my own student.

In a theater that I was trying to rob.

“Look,” Eddie said, his tone shaking slightly, “I don’t know who you are, but just...go. Leave everything you took behind, and don’t come back. Please. No one needs to get hurt.”

I took a few, subtle steps forward, trying to remain calm.

“Easy there, partner...” I murmured.

Eddie gulped out of anxiety and mindlessly clenched his jaw, unable to move due to the terror holding him down.

“I-I mean it,” he reiterated. “Leave.”

I continued to approach him despite his commands, whispering softly in an attempt to ease the boy’s nerves.

“...Now, I ain’t gonna hurt you...” I reassured. “I just came here for money. Not blood.”

The pianist fell silent at that, his arms quivering as he kept the gun aimed at me. I could tell he was scared, but not scared enough to pull the trigger. Eddie didn’t strike me as the type to shoot someone out of panic, and I certainly prayed that I was right.

“...That’s it...” I encouraged. “Nice and easy...”

Eddie stayed in place, his breath still somewhat quick, but not quite as fear-driven as before. It was working.

My lord, I could only imagine what I was doing to this poor kid. He weren’t gonna be able to sleep for the rest of the week, and I’d probably be in every single one of his nightmares from here on out.

Though, I couldn’t deny that Eddie certainly had a pair of stones on him. He had a bravery I’d not seen in very many other people, and I didn’t even want to think about how much hell he’d raise if he had the same gunslinging skills as Dutch.

Just as I was about to defuse the tension however, Bill himself suddenly snuck up behind Eddie and bashed him in the back of the head with his rifle, knocking the boy out cold before he even hit the floor.

I glared at the attacker, instantly rushing over to Eddie’s unconscious body as Bill grabbed the props.

“The hell, Williamson?!” I practically growled through gritted teeth.

“What?” He exclaimed, hauling the sack over his shoulder. “Dutch said no killing. He never mentioned anything about hittin’ people!”

I sighed in irritation. “That’s not the point-- oh for Christ’s sake, forget it. Let’s just get outta here. C’mon, Charles and Mary-Beth will be waitin’ outside.”

“Who’s ridin’ shotgun?” Bill asked, following me to the front of the theater.

“I will,” I answered. “You just worry about keeping that money safe. We got a lot sittin’ in those bags, and we ain’t losing ‘em now!”

Escaping with Williamson, the two of us ran like hell as I unholstered my own guns and kept an eye out for any lawmen that could’ve been lurking about, still feeling incredibly guilty over what happened with Eddie.

The boy was only trying to protect the money that he earned, and not only did I sweep it out from right under him, I also put him through what would probably be one of the most terrifying moments of his life.

Unlike everyone else I knew, Eddie had never killed a man before or lived the life of an outlaw. He had grown comfortable with the safety of a city’s walls, and to end up being stuck between two robbers like he did tonight...I was gonna have to make this up to him somehow.

But I’d worry about that later. Right now, my only concern was getting out of Saint Denis as fast as humanly possible. For the first time in a while, things actually went mostly according to plan, and we just stole a more-than-decent chunk of cash. Dutch was going to be pleased.

“There’s Charles,” I announced as we came through the entrance. “Quick! Get in, and let’s go!”

Climbing onto the stagecoach, Bill took the sacks of money and stuffed himself inside with Mary-Beth, the four of us taking off as soon as the door was closed.

Even though there were no lawmen chasing us at the moment, neither Charles nor I wanted to take any chances and urged the horses to gallop faster as we bolted through the city’s streets, almost floating above the cobblestone with our speed.

I had to admit: despite the encounter with Eddie, I was feelin’ good for once. It was about time a robbery went right...but I still couldn’t help wondering how this was going to affect the pianist’s life.

I mean, now that I thought about it, every time I talked with the man, he was always mentioning how much he needed more money. He mentioned it at the saloon. He mentioned it after we ran into Miss Powell...

I didn’t know if he was in some sort of trouble, or what was going on in his life, but...Eddie did sound a bit desperate.

Jesus, what had I gotten myself into? Even when something finally worked out for the gang, I still had my doubts about our victory.

Sure, we were a huge step closer to buying our freedom, but at what cost? The freedom of another?

To be honest...I didn’t know if it was worth it.

I mentally slapped myself across the face, snapping back to reality.

No, I couldn’t afford to think like that. Empathy got you killed out in these lands, and compassion betrayed you. My place was at Dutch and Hosea’s side, and that was where it’d always be. No matter what. And I’d just have to accept that.

I liked Eddie. I really did. Hell, maybe I even had the potential to love him...but not in this life. I had already pursued love enough times to know how it ended, and I couldn’t bear to put the boy through the same fate.

He was a kind soul, built to lift those around him.

As for me -- I was nothing but a ghost walkin’ among men.

And regardless of what I felt for Eddie...

...None of it was gonna change a damn thing.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #oc #fanfic #story

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musiciatee · 7 years ago

Note

The Mario Kart game Annie and Stiles aren't allowed to talk about

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) is this messy?? yes. was what i wrote literally so cliche?? yes. do i care very much?? nope. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Annie would have liked to say that she carried herself with a collected sort of grace.

But then she would’ve just been straight up lying.

A triumphant peal of laughter echoed throughout the living room as Stiles slumped into the couch and Annie jumped to her feet. “Haha! Suck it, Stilinski!” She grinned, spinning around and shoving the controller into his face.

He pushed her hand away and gave her a dirty look. “Y-you rigged this!” He accused, nearly hit her in the face as he mimicked her earlier action and pointed his own controller at her.

She snorted loudly, letting the hand holding the controller fall to her side while she placed the other on her jutted out hip, “It’s your game, how would I rig your game. You just suck.” She mocked. He totally didn’t need to know that that had been the very first game of Mario Kart that she had won and that she had done it completely by chance.

Stiles shook his head vehemently, glaring at her. “Uh- no, you did something!” He declared, clearly suspicious. “You got way too many shells for it to have been not rigged.”

Annie pursed her lips, her eyes flashing up to the ceiling like she truly was in deep thought. “Or- and bear with me here- you’re a loser.” She dropped her thoughtful facade immediately, a large grin stretching over her lips.

“And you’re a cheating jerk.” He countered. “C’mon we’re going again.” He scooted up to the edge of the couch, leaning his elbows against his knees as he began setting up the next game, pressing the buttons on his controller rather furiously.

Annie sat back down beside him, lifting her sock-clad feet and tucking them underneath her. “Shouldn’t we wait for Scott?” She asked, giving him a curious look.

He shot her a challenging grin, “Why? Afraid that you’ll lose in front of an audience?”

She scoffed, settling more comfortably into the cushions. “No, afraid Scott will be so ashamed to be friends with a loser like you that he breaks up with you. I don’t think my heart could take it.” She grinned.

Stiles snorted before shaking his head. “We aren’t dating.”

“Might as well be.” She shrugged, turning her gaze back to the TV. “So, I guess you just really want your ass beat again. A’ight, Stilinski, brace yourself.”

“Tough words coming from someone who asked me to get a glass down from the cabinet twenty minutes ago.”

Annie narrowed her eyes at him and untucked her legs, copying his gaming position with a set expression on her features.“That was low, Stilinski.”

“Not as low as you are to the ground, Emery.”

Before she could retort, he started the game and a swift silence overtook them, the only sounds filling the living room being the mocking, happy jingle coming from the game itself.

It had only been several seconds into the game before Annie’s leg began bouncing with anticipation. “You sure you don’t wanna just give up now? My main bitch Peach is coming for you.” She muttered, only half-joking. While he wasn’t looking at her, Stiles could still hear the smile in her voice.

He huffed before suddenly shooting his hand out to the side and grabbing the controller out of her hands, making her let out a yell of objection.

She shot to her feet, pointing at him with wide, outraged eyes. “How is that fair at all?”

“My controller, my game, my house, my rules.” He listed, momentarily looking up at her with blatant smugness in his eyes. Shifting his eyes back to the TV screen, he dropped his voice dramatically, like he was doing a bad imitation of batman, “Welcome to my kingdom, Emery.” He grinned, his eyes alert as he tried his best to navigate the game with one hand, his other hand stretched high up.

Annie launched herself forward, but he dodged out of the way, quickly hopping up on the couch and completely erasing any sort of chance that she’d be able to reach the controller. Mimicking him, she hopped up on the couch and pitifully began jumping up, the couch cushions creaking and groaning from their combined weight.

“You’re such an ass!” She bit out as she grabbed at his arm, only being able to brush past his elbow.

“I’m just adding a more challenging element to the game. How good can you really be if you can’t adapt? I’m helping you, Emery!”

“Yeah?” She struggled to get out, beginning to get breathless as she practically launched herself onto his back. “Reverse the roles, let’s see how you’d do.” She snapped back.

Despite the little druid climbing up his side, Stiles let out a half-maniacal laugh at her struggle, swaying dangerously as he tried to hold her up without actually physically holding her. “That’s dumb, you’d never be able to hold anything above my head.”

It was several moments of Annie hopelessly stretching up as much as she could, pulling and tugging at his arm before things went wrong. Before either of them knew it, Stiles lost his balance, causing the two of them to topple down violently to the ground.

Annie squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the pain that such a fall would undoubtedly bring. But, while the fall hurt, it was nowhere near how much she thought it would.

Hearing a low groan below her, she snapped her eyes open and, to her horror, found Stiles right under her, their limbs tangled together,

Well, that explained why she didn’t feel the brunt of the fall, the same couldn’t be said for the poor guy, though.

“Oh, my God.” She breathed. She moved her hands so that they landed on either side of his head, and she pushed herself up slightly. The action didn’t quite help matters, though. He tensed up at the feeling of her hips shifting against his as she tried to lift herself up, his hand flying off where it had landed on her lower back.

Stiles cleared his throat forcefully. “U-uh, I-um, Annie.” He did nothing to hide the way his voice cracked saying her name, but then again, there was nothing much he could do without making things worse for himself. “M-maybe don’t… do that.”

Annie looked at him with confused, furrowed brows before her eyes lit up in realization. Eyes widening with something that could only be described as panic, Annie sat up quickly, only shifting so that she ended up straddling him, wincing when he let out a sharp exhale, his hands hovering in the air above her thighs like they weren’t quite sure where to go. .

Stiles let out a loud cough, the tips of his ears burning red. “Th-that’s not… Annie. That’s not much better.”

Feeling her cheeks and the back of her neck heating up in embarrassment, she went to just move off him completely, but not before the sound of the front door opening and footsteps rapidly approaching them made the two of them look at each other in alarm.

“Sorry I’m late guys!” Scott’s apologetic voice reached them before either of them saw each other. “The line to get food was impossibly lon-Woah!” Scott stopped right in his tracks, eyes widening and mouth dropping at the sight in front of him. He turned around quickly, as though he were trying to preserve any sort of semblance of privacy that he could.

“Uh-sorry! Um… are we… are video games still happening?”

#shut up ang #THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!#this was traaaaaash #but like fun trash so i enjoyed this #asks!!!!#prompts #oc: annie emery #stiles stilinski

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neganisking · 7 years ago

Text

Surprise gift

A/N: okay so here it is. This has taken fucking months and I’m super proud of it. I really hope you like it. It was originally written for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash s writing challenge but I missed the deadline here it is anyway! Massive, Massive thank you to @noodlecupcakes for betaing this for me. All mistakes are my own. I will total fix the Taglist in the morning it’s 2am and I’m about to die.

Masterlist

Wordcount:13,000

Tags/ warnings: D/s , smut, guided masturbation, Sex Toys, Vaginal Penetration, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Panty Kink, sub space, sub Drop, Comfort Aftercare, pussy slapping, cum tasting, bodily fluid, Dom! Negan, Undernegotiated Kink, Consent, Seduction, orgasm control, edging,

—————-

You were just drifting off again trying to get another nap in before your night shift on guard duty when a knock at the door jars you back into reality.

Taking a second to stretch out your back, you rise up off of your bed and answer the door. You don’t need to open it to know who is waiting for you on the other side, the tell tale ‘shave and a haircut’ rhythm giving him away. Feeling more curious than worried you slide the deadbolt back and open the door to see the man himself leaning against the doorframe.

“Negan?”

With Lucile resting gently on his shoulder, he smiles, cocking his head to the side slightly looking rather amused before wetting his lips. “Hey there sleepy head.” Blinking yourself awake you run your fingers through your tangled hair, not quite sure if he was making fun of you or not. “I’m on nights this week - what’s wrong?”

Pinching his eyebrows together, Negan leans into the space between you both without any real heat to his voice. “Nothing’s wrong butternut – shit, why does something always have to be fucking wrong?”

“You don’t normally knock on my door.” You reason with him, stretching out a little as you scratch the back of your neck. You knew you were lucky to be in his good graces really. You never had to worry about his mood or him making some dramatic display at your expense but then again you never took advantage of it either. Keeping your head down and doing you job to the best of your ability had done you well and Negan seemed to appreciate it.

As he explains, you watch the way his eyes trail down your body and can’t help but feel a tremor of lust nip under your skin - not that you’ll ever let him know that. “True, true. But I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been busting those great big lady nuts of yours and I wanted to fucking get you something nice as a little reward.”

“Is that right?” Surprises were never really your thing if you were honest. Especially seeing as the new world was filled with surprises of the deadly variety. Still, the thought of a reward did catch your attention and you found yourself wondering what it could be to prompt Negan into making a personal visit.

With an easy shrug Negan brings Lucile down to rest against his boot in one fluid motion. “That’s all she fuckin’ wrote. Can I come in or are you gonna leave old Negan out in the fucking cold?”

Glancing behind the man to the draft free corridor outside you can’t help but snort a little at his dramatics. If you were honest though, you wouldn’t mind the company. Opening your door a little wider you step back to let the man inside. “Sure.”

Forever at ease, Negan strolls inside and makes himself at home. Pulling at his scarf he puts Lucile down on the set of drawers before setting the red fabric down next to it. He unzips his jacket as you shut the door, sliding the deadbolt to lock it once again.

It’s not the first time the man has ever been in your room but it still strikes you how much his presence fills the space. As much as you hate to admit it, there’s something easy and light about the way he is with you when you’re alone with him that you can’t help but look forward to.

Turning back to face him you catch him watching you with a soft smile on his face. In his hand he holds a long rectangular box, topped with a bow. You wonder for a moment why you didn’t see it earlier but you figure he must have hidden it inside his jacket. “Oh wow. Gift wrapped and everything. It’s not my birthday y'know.”

Huffing a laugh, Negan rolls his eyes before handing the present over to you. “Like those fucking matter anymore anyway. C'mon let’s open this sucker up.”

His excitement catching, you pull the bow out letting it fall to the floor and lift the lid off the gift box. Whatever you had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. With a strange jolt of embarrassment coursing through your body, you couldn’t help but laugh it off. “Oh my fucking god.”

Negan’s voice is measured trying to gauge your reaction. “I’m gonna assume that means you fucking like it.”

You had almost completely forgotten. On a supply run a few weeks ago the boys were giving you shit about never getting laid. Never mind the fact that the men, not to mention the women who were so inclined, were too chicken to go anywhere near you after Negan’s failed marriage proposal. Sometimes you think that you might as well have said yes because at least then you’d be getting some action but you enjoyed being a saviour too much to give it up to just be a wife.

Fighting through your embarrassment at the situation, you pick the sex toy up out of the box. It looks expensive, with fancy settings and soft silicone. “It’s hilarious. Y'know when I said I missed my vibrator it was mostly just to shut Travis up right?”

Negan watches you carefully, clearly enjoying himself. You suppose the heat coming from your face might have something to do with it. “Maybe. But don’t you fucking act like it wasn’t true either. I caught that look on your face. ‘Satisfied you more than any man ever could’ if I remember correctly. Not that I fucking agree mind you. I think you’ve just been fucking the wrong kind of dingleberry if you get what I mean.”

This was ridiculous. Negan had never been so forward with you before and you could feel yourself getting carried along in his wake. You weren’t a stranger to his crude language or the ideas of sex that were now in the forefront of your mind, but actually voicing it seemed to be on another level. Even when he had made advances in the past, you had always been able to shut it down but this time felt different somehow.

Hopefully keeping him oblivious to your inner conflict, you grin, giving off a confidence you weren’t so convinced of. “Orgasm every time and never fucking complains. What’s not to love? I didn’t think you were listening.”

The man shrugs, looking so comfortable getting under your skin it frustrates you. “How could I not? Hearing you talk about your old vibrator like that was hot as hell. That shit was prize material for several happy endings and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”

Against your own volition, his words make your stomach churn. You’d be lying to yourself if you had said he wasn’t having an effect on you. Unable to come up with a retort this time you simply shake your head. “You’re ridiculous sometimes y'know that?”

He chuckles, the deep sound making your skin prickle. “Absolutely doll face.”

There’s a lull in conversation which strikes you as odd but then you realise that it’s only because of how nervous you are. Trying to bring yourself out of your own head you furrow your brow and look at the toy in your hand instead. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually get me one.”

Negan snorts. “Since when did I do something just because someone fucking expected me to do it? Besides, you really didn’t really think I’d let your needs go unattended to did you? You sure as fuck ain’t getting any from anyone else around here – and before you say it I know you don’t want to fuck me, as much as it busts my balls to admit, but you know how bad I want you. I figured this was a nice little compromise.”

You take a minute to absorb his words. It was a lot to consider all at once. Of course he knew you weren’t getting laid. He didn’t even have to try, simply showing an interest in you made you off limits. Even Laura didn’t try to get close to you anymore. You realise he put it to you in a way that didn’t leave you feeling pressured into feeling or acting a certain way. He had realised how things were for you, he had listened and he had actually done something about it. It was really rather considerate of him.

Your quiet voice has a certain weight to it when you nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re most fucking welcome. Took the liberty of putting some batteries in there for ya too.” He adds, his face splitting into a wide cheeky grin as he waggles his eyebrows a little.

Despite the way he makes the corners of your mouth turn into an amused little grin, you can’t help but furrow your brow in concern. Batteries were expensive never mind how they were a precious resource in the new world. “Batteries? That’s kind of a waste - no?”

Like a switch had been flicked Negan’s whole demeanour changes. The faintest trace of his smile lingers on his lips but his darkened eyes tell a different tale. It was as though all the air has been sucked out of the room and you can’t help the dangerous thrill that courses through your body as he leans into the space between you both.

You knew you were safe. He had told you as much before now. It would take a fuck up of some serious magnitude for Negan to even consider hurting you. That being said he didn’t hesitate to put you in your place whenever you crossed a line with him. Every single time your body responded in the same way. You just hoped you hid it well enough.

In a low, measured voice Negan says three words that make your stomach churn in anticipation. “Who am I?”

“Negan.” You reply without hesitation, swallowing thickly. It’s more than easy to fall in line, the submission settling something inside your bones. For a moment you get a little lost staring into his tawny eyes. He looks almost proud of you and it does something to your insides that you were a little afraid to put a name to.

Seemingly content with your response he chuckles, wetting his lips and the spell breaks again, brightening the room once more. “That’s right sweet cheeks. So if I want to put batteries in your fucking dildo that’s what I’m going to do.”

With a roll off your eyes you shake your head a little, coming to your senses. It was never going to happen between you and him. You had turned Negan down for a reason. A good one at that. It wasn’t even him really, it was all the bullshit that came with him. The mind games, the stupid power trip, the glorified titles, backstabbing – you could do without it. Life was complicated enough.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, you’re the one that’s always preaching about conserving shit. Not to mention that you’re the one that says everything comes at a cost.”

Bringing his gloved hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose Negan pulled his face. “Using my own fuck – look. Can’t you just be fucking happy that I got you something?”

You can’t help but laugh. “I am happy. I’m just busting your balls relax.”

Negan snorts, raising his eyebrows in response. “Y'know – Speaking of my balls –“

“- oh smooth.”

He laughs at your interruption, looking pretty pleased with himself. “I fucking know right? Look I wanted to ask you something.”

You can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed. Of course there was a catch. Nothing was free – in this world or the last. “and there it is.”

“What?”

“The ulterior motive.”

Negan furrows his brow in confusion for a moment as though he was missing something before realisation dawns across his features. “Oh I am not gonna ask you ‘that’. Believe me. If we’re ever gonna get hitched then you’re the one who needs to fucking propose to me. I ain’t doing that shit again.”

Maybe you were wrong then. Against your better judgement, you had the sickening thought that all this was just a ploy to get your guard down so you would accept his marriage proposal. Trying to give him the benefit of the doubt you cautiously decide to ask. “Okay. So what?”

With baited breath he hesitates for a beat before his confident persona comes back to the forefront with a smirk. “Can I watch?”

His request confuses you, having nothing to do what you were thinking of. You frown slightly. “Can you watch what?”

Slowly Negan raises his eyebrows. You follow his pointed gaze down to the vibrator that was all but forgotten in your hand. Was he-? Did he really mean-?

“Negan!” Your face starts to burn as you put the toy back in the box and onto the dresser next to Lucile in rapid motion as though it was about to bite your hand off. This whole thing is beyond ridiculous.

Barking a laugh Negan holds his hands up as though to placate you, taking a step closer at the same time “Hey c'mon now. It’s just a fucking question. I’ve been daydreaming about this shit for the last two weeks. I even had a wet dream about it butternut. A wet fucking dream! It’s been a long fucking time since that’s happened darlin’.”

Your stomach dips at his confession. Unable to help yourself after being provided with such a vivid mental image you fight the urge to press your thighs together. If he was telling the truth, which he usually did, then you really did have an effect on him. And that? That was hot. You let yourself wonder for a beat what he must have looked like, waking up to a wet mess between his legs and you on his mind. Fuck.

You can’t. Grumbling inside, you pull yourself together and arrange your face into a more sarcastic expression. “Poor you.”

He doesn’t seem all that convinced this time. Smiling softly he leans back, a strange look in his eye like he knows something you don’t. Then he moves.

Carefully, as though not to startle you but with ease as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he takes a step closer and gently lets his hands rest on your waist. You’re too taken aback to react, frozen to the spot as his warm fingers gently stroking the skin under the hem of your shirt when you don’t tell him to stop. His touches burn, sending shivers down to your core. There’s no denying how it makes you feel now. At a loss of what to do with your hands you rest them against the lapels of his jacket gently.

His voice drops to a low whisper in your ear, his drawl making your skin pimple. “C'mon pumpkin. No one else has to fucking know. It can just be our little secret huh? You keep your job, no ‘weird wife shit’ as you so eloquently put it. Just us.”

You can literally feel your resolve start to crumble as you subconsciously lean your body into his touch. Its almost too much and yet it isn’t enough. But you’re not supposed to be letting this happen. Are you? Then again, you can’t remember a time when you felt this hot and bothered. It feels good. It’s all you can do to keep your breathing even as you try to gather yourself enough to formulate a response.

“Let me take care of you.”

His words draw you in. It’s tempting. So very tempting. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe you could play with him this one time and get this infatuation out of your system once and for all. He only said he wanted to watch – and that no one else had to know. Maybe it would work.

Frowning a little when you don’t reply, Negan moves back to give you some space. “Shit. You can say no darlin’. You know that.”

Impulsively, your fingers tighten against the leather. You didn’t want to say no anymore. Negan stops, looking down at you with a curious expression. Nerves getting the better of you, your voice is barely even a whisper in the quiet room. “Yeah.”

Negan pulls back a little to get a better look at you, his lips turning into a grin. “What was that honey? ”

Getting a hold of yourself you push on with some confidence. If you were going to do this you might as well commit to it. You were going to hell anyway. “Yeah. Okay. You can watch.”

Negan’s face lights up. Beaming, he squeezes your hips as he leans in a little. “Hot damn. Christmas has come fucking early this year yes indeed.”

As Negan tightens his hold on you, leaning into your space, you gently push against his chest. “Hold up. Ground rules.”

Applauding yourself for not getting carried away, you feel Negan’s warmth leave your skin and for a moment of insanity you almost reconsider your decision. He schools his expression into something more genuine and soft as he smiles.

“M’all ears sugar.”

With hopefully more confidence than you feel, you begin to negotiate your terms. You didn’t want to get carried away with this. “No touching. In fact, stay on that side of the room. You can sit in the chair if you want to.”

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what you were doing. You wanted something. Maybe even needed it. But you just weren’t ready to give in completely. The thought was too overwhelming for you. Besides he hadn’t asked to touch, just to watch.

“No touching.” Negan repeats your words as though trying them out in his mouth to see how it sounds.

“Nope.”

“At all?” He almost looks distraught which makes you scoff a laugh at him. He clearly wasn’t used too being told no.

You shake your head. “None.”

Furrowing his brow, Negan watches you carefully, trying to figure you out. “What about if you change your mind? Huh? What about if you start choking and dying? What if-?”

“Okay maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you feel a little overwhelmed.

This is why you always say no. It was so easy to get swept up in Negan’s wake. So easy to just give in and give him everything. But in the sanctuary you had a role to play and a job to do. You commanded respect in your own way and you wouldn’t ever dream of compromising that. Part of you wonders if you’re making a huge mistake.

Making a noise in the back of his throat, Negan reaches out to run his hand down your arm, the contact warming you once more, blurring the lines yet again. “Oh honey I’m just busting your fucking nuts. C'mon now.”

When you don’t reply, still trying to decipher your thoughts, he moves to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I’m not used to seeing you so nervous butternut.”

Ducking your head you huff a small laugh. You weren’t used to feeling so nervous either. You feel more like yourself when you gather your thoughts and look up at him once more. “Yeah, well - Your fault.”

Negan snorts, scrunching his nose at you which does nothing to stop the smile from spreading across your face. “So. No touching. Seriously though, what if you change your mind?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Cocking his head to the side with an arrogant smirk, he grunts playfully. “Oh I think it might happen.”

With a roll of your eyes you decide to humour him. It wasn’t going to happen anyway. “If I change my mind – which I won’t, then ignore me. I’m telling you right now not to touch me. And if I’m dying? Sure. If I’m dying you can help. But no funny business.”

“Scouts honour.” Negan replies, putting his hand over his heart.

You snort with laughter at his dramatics. “I highly doubt you were ever a boy scout”

Negan frowns although judging my the smirk lingering on his face there’s no real heat to it. “I am offended doll. You wound me.”

You both chuckle quietly and the intimacy of the moment warms your insides, drawing you in again. Negan speaks up eventually moving things along yet again.

“Is that all your fucking ground rules?”

Your mind turned up blank as you tried to think of other things you should mention. Surely there ought to be something else. “I guess so. Uh - no holding this over me later either.”

“Now I really am offended.” There was an edge to his voice that made you pause, was he really bothered?

“Anything you want to add?” Hopefully levelling things out you make the offer, anxiety beginning to prickle at your skin.

Negan seems pleased at that, flashing his teeth for good measure as he smiles. “Not a thing darlin’. I’ll take any little thing I can fucking get.”

“Uh huh.” You smirk at that, the idea reminding you just how much the ball was in your court with this. You didn’t need to be so nervous. Nothing was going to happen that you didn’t want. You were a saviour damnit and a strong woman and hell, if you were going to do this you were going to enjoy it. Consequences be damned. Its not like Negan would let anything bad happen to you anyway.

With a surge of new found confidence, you smile at the man. Inclining your head over to the chair at the foot of your bed.

“Take a seat.”

Your eyes follow Negan as he saunters over to the chair in question. He shrugs off his leather jacket off and for a moment, your focus lingers on his broad shoulders flexing under his thin grey shirt. Usually you wouldn’t allow yourself to ogle the man but you figure that turn about was fair play this time.

“Like what you see sugar?”

Realising you’ve been caught you smile, hoping to seem much more confident than you feel. Popping the button of your jeans you ease them open to reveal your underwear. They were simple and grey and it had been a long time since you had bothered to shave but you weren’t worried. Beggars couldn’t be choosers after all.

Your voice is light and casual. “Just admiring the view.“

Negan’s deep responding chuckle resonates through the room, vibrating your insides. “I can relate to that.”

Shedding the denim you step out of the jeans pooled around your feet. It’s only your legs - in the old world you wore less at the beach or in the pool – but baring your skin with someone else in the room now somehow makes you feel more vulnerable than having a knife to your throat or a gun to your head ever had. You watch Negan hungrily drink in the sight before him, like he was savouring it in case he never got the chance again.

He wouldn’t get the chance again of course, you reminded yourself. This wasn’t going to be anything more than – this. Letting him indulge a little, you turn your back on him to fetch the box from your dresser, lips twitching into a grin as you hear him swear under his breath.

You take your time, sauntering over to your bed trying to stifle the rush of nerves that takes you by surprise now that you’re actually about to do the thing. It occurs to you for a moment to stop, to change your mind and send Negan on his way. What’s more you know that Negan would respect your decision and would leave without so much as a cross word. But the thought of him leaving left an unsavoury taste in your mouth. You didn’t want him to leave.

But what now? Should you strip completely? Just take off your tank top instead and stay in your underwear maybe? Were you supposed to put on some kind of show for him? Would he even enjoy it?

Tossing the box onto the comforter you give Negan a searching look. He hasn’t moved since the last time, his eyes still locked onto your form. He looks comfortable, reminding you of his words a few moments ago. ‘I’ll take any little thing I can fucking get’ You were in control here.

You didn’t owe him anything. You got to call the shots and you were going to do this on your terms. If he didn’t like it then he didn’t have to stick around. As flippant as your thoughts were, you really did hope he stayed. The more you thought about it the more you wanted it.

Negan smiles fondly, making you feel warm inside. Returning the gesture you pick up the corner of the comforter and in one sweeping motion, you slide under the covers.

Negan squawks, the smile gone. “What? C'mon that isn’t fair.”

Snorting, your smile only grows wider. “Is too.”

He pouts, furrowing his brow he frowns clearly perplexed. He really must be so used to having everything handed to him on a plate. “I can’t see the goods.”

The nonchalant shrug comes much easier than you had thought it would as you ease your panties down your legs, thankful for the duvet to preserve some idea of modesty. You weren’t ready to be that exposed. “It’s cold in here. Besides. You should have been more specific.”

“Fucking figures.” He gripes, looking like a sullen school boy.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head with the smile still stretching lazily across your face. An idea pops into your mind and with a quick rustle under the covers you ball the grey fabric up and throw it across the room.

Negan, his reflexes sharp as ever, catches it deftly in his hand. His eyes widening slightly as his face lights up in surprise. His hand hovers in the air for a moment as he locks eyes on you again.

“I hope you don’t fucking expect to be getting these back darlin’.”

You chuckle, glad that you’ve managed to somewhat improve his mood. “Let me guess, they “belong to you’ now?”

“Damn straight.”

Negan takes a moment to examine the material, something that you were entirely unprepared for if the flare of heat around your cheeks was anything to go by. “Holy shit. Pumpkin, your pretty pussy has made quite the mess here. You’re nice and wet for me ain’t ya.” It wasn’t a question.

Oh.

You feel your own eyes widen, mouth going sack as you see exactly what he was referring to. Glancing away in embarrassment you take a moment. You knew you were aroused of course but just how wet you are catches you by surprise. While Negan is otherwise distracted you take your hand to venture for yourself and – Oh – definitely wet.

You look back up to Negan just in time to see him draw your wet panties up to his face and inhale. His eyes completely focused on you.

Oh.

Your stomach clenches in arousal as your chest heaves with the breath you had been holding moments before. This was really happening. You weren’t sure exactly when it escaped your attention but you’re suddenly all too aware that your particular agreement meant that you’d be in a certain state in front of Negan himself. Something about that made you feel especially vulnerable. Something about that made you feel excited.

He smiled, satisfaction oozing from his spot at the foot of your bed. You wanted this. He knew you wanted this. He wanted this. You were ready.

Propping yourself up against the headboard so that Negan would still see you over the tent your bent knees would make, you reached forward for the box. Removing the toy you dropped the box over the edge of your bed, now forgotten on the floor. Your fingers traced over the vibrator. The soft silicone was velvety to the touch, the bumps and ridges along the shaft drawing your curiosity. For a moment you imagined it filling you up inside and in an instant you craved to be full – it had definitely been too long.

Gently pressing the button on the end the vibrator sparked into life giving you a start. It tingled in your hand and you gave the sensation a short moment of consideration before pressing the button again. You cycled through the different speeds and pulses before fiddling with it to work out how to turn it off. You were quite impressed by it really.

A small huff of a laugh reminds you that you aren’t alone. Flicking your eyes back to Negan who has a soft smile on his face, you flush with a wash of embarrassment at having being so distracted. With a nervous smile you get comfy, leaning back against the headboard once again. Pressing the button onto the lowest setting, you pulled your hands under the covers and part your thighs.

A soft gasp escapes your mouth as you press the buzzing toy to your clit, your body clenching in a satisfactory swell of ‘finally’.

“There we go.” Negan hums in approval.

Ignoring him, you focused on the sensation as you slowly roll the head of the toy along your wet folds and around your clit. Fluttering your eyes closed, your head tips back of its own accord. God how you had missed this feeling. It had been so long that you’re sure this isn’t going to take very long at all. At least Negan would get to see your ‘o’ face. Hopefully that would satisfy him.

“Open your eyes and look at me.”

The interruption distracts you from the sensation you had been chasing and that blissful feeling now suddenly seems lightyears away. Sighing in annoyance you open your eyes to frown at the man at the foot of your bed.

“Negan- “

“You weren’t ‘specific’ about me talking doll so deal with it.” He counters before you have the chance to complain, leaving no room for argument.

You open your mouth to argue anyway before closing it again. He did have a point. Sliding the vibrator against your clit again you realise that you don’t mind the idea as much as you thought you would.

“You love the sound of your own voice too much.” You say instead, not one to roll over so easily.

Negan grins. “I think that deep down you like it too princess. Yeah you do.” He adds as your breath hitches at the nickname.

Another surge of arousal courses through you and your eyes shut of their own accord, head rolling backwards again exposing the lines of your neck to the room. A small hum escapes your lips.

“Open your fucking eyes sweetheart. You don’t get to pretend I’m not watching.”

The reminder is gentle but you know how much he hates repeating himself. There’s an unspoken challenge in there somewhere and you decide not to forget again, if nothing else to show him just how good you can be. You’re not sure exactly where the thought comes from but you think you might actually want to please him.

You pull your head down and meet his tawny eyes with steady determination. The heady rush reminding you that this is no innocent ordeal – he’s watching you masturbate. He literally brought you a dildo so he could watch you masturbate - And you said yes. Fuck.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Negan draws the words out in his gravely tone, that proud look taking over his features again. The praise makes you whimper before you can stop yourself – you definitely want to please him. It just feels right.

The vibrations pulse against your pussy in a way that your own hand could never manage. It pushes you harder, higher, deeper into bliss and despite your somewhat compromised position you feel yourself getting pulled in anyway. Slowly giving into the pleasure and allowing your guard to droop.

Negan groans in appreciation, eyes never leaving you for a second, watching your flushed face as you grind the toy against your wet cunt over and over, climbing higher and higher. “Yeah honey I bet that feels fan-fucking-tastic huh?”

Almost as in a trance, you keep your lidded gaze on Negan, eyes wandering over the scruff of his beard, the lines of his jaw and nose, his defined shoulders. Your chest heaves as you pant open mouthed from the sensations growing from your core and spreading through your body like electricity. It had never felt like this on your own. This was something else entirely, another level altogether and it made you want. It was all you could do to nod at him, your breath catching in your throat in pleasure making you whimper as though it was pulling on the last ounces of your self control.

“You’re fucking beautiful sweetheart. Blushing like that. Hot damn.” Your body was on fire. You had never thought you would see the day when you actually wanted Negan to keep talking but in this moment hanging on his every word felt like the best idea you’d ever had. You wanted him to tell you every little thing he could see, every embarrassing detail of your debauchery, everything that pleased him, made him feel good, anything so long as he kept talking.

God you wanted to cum.

“Say my name.”

You blinked, drawing your thoughts together enough to squint in confusion. “What?”

Negan leaned forward in the chair, his voice dropping to the low commanding tone that fuelled your deepest fantasies. “Say. My. Name.”

“Negan?” You offer, as though you could somehow get the answer wrong.

Negan hums. “Good girl. Again.”

“Negan.” But why did he-?

“Again.”

“Negan. Ohh.” The confusion gives way to the roll of pleasure sweeping through your body. You were saying his name. You were masturbating for him with his name on your lips. Almost completely exposed and even more vulnerable, without a sliver of doubt or hesitation - all because he asked. In fact you were pretty sure that if he asked you would do much more than this too.

The movement of the toy had become automatic some time ago and it barely registered in your mind that it took any kind of effort to move it, more focused on the intense pleasure it brought instead.

“Again.” Negan’s voice was insistent, commanding, every thing you craved.

“Negan.” You moan his name, the final shreds of the pretence you had concocted gone. This was it. Raw and full of want and need, you felt free.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl.” You preen at his praise. You want to be his good girl. You want him to be proud of you. You want him.

“Negan - fuck.” You whimper growing impossibly hot, the raw emotion inside making you need. What you needed you weren’t quite sure but you needed all the same.

Negan smiles widely, flashing his teeth looking so sincere it makes your heart swell. “I’m here beautiful. Right here.”

Your pussy clenches and aches for release, your whole body begins to tremble with the intensity of it all. The vibrations drive you closer to that edge, your mind going rogue and indulging in fantasies of Negan dragging his hard cock along your dripping cunt instead. It won’t be long now. “Feels good huh. You getting close?”

“Yeah so good.” Your body draws the words out in a low moan. This was it. Any moment now. You wondered if he would order you to cum rather than just letting it happen. You hoped he would. He always did in your fantasies, ordering things from you that exposed just how naughty you could be.

“You look so fucking pretty coming undone like this for me baby girl. Take it off your clit for me baby and fuck that sweet pussy. We got all the time in the world. No way in hell am I gonna rush this.”

As soon as the order leaves his lips you comply without hesitation taking the toy away. Your body lurches, aching desperately with need to get you to put the toy back, to force yourself over the edge against his wishes. You ached to cum, his words almost sending you over the edge alone but you struggled to control yourself.

Your body shudders visibly as you keen loudly with the effort and the arousal pulsing through your pussy. You wanted to cum so badly but the desire to please him and be a good girl wins out, the submission feeling like coming home. Groaning in the pleasurable frustration you cuss loudly. “Fuck.”

If Negan minded that you were taking a minute to compose yourself before continuing with his request he didn’t show it. In fact you had never seen him quite so happy. Not that false persona that always laughed and smiled but the actual smile of a man who didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. Of course he didn’t miss the way you reacted. “You like that don’t you butternut. I fucking knew you were kinky as shit.”

You chuckle, catching your breath as the smile spreads easily across your face. This was only the tip of the iceberg for you. But then you weren’t sure exactly how far this should go. If you were honest though you weren’t worried. Negan would take care of you.

“This ain’t nothin’ – oh” As you slide the dildo inside your soaking pussy you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. This. This was what you needed. To be full, to be fucked. The stretch feels perfect, almost as though it belongs inside you.

Negan continues, you didn’t think your face could grow any hotter, it was almost too much. “Oh princess have you been fucking holding out on me? All this time you’ve been into the freaky-deaky?”

You draw the dildo back out again relishing the drag. It’s perfect. Setting a slow and steady pace you start to fuck yourself for him, denying nothing. “Shit.”

Showing no mercy Negan shows no sign of stopping his teasing. “You like me telling you what to do honey? You like me telling you how to fuck your own pussy?”

The humiliation flushes your body with a new sense of shame. But instead of feeling guilty the praise it’s coupled with only draws you in deeper making you feel drunk on the sensation. “Oh- yeah.”

“’Yeah’ what princess?” He asks expectantly.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes sir.”

Negan croons. “That’s it butternut. Good girl.”

You were a good girl. His good girl. He was pleased with you. The thought made fucking your cunt feel even better. The previously imminent orgasm you had been on the edge of before now had receded but you didn’t mind at all given how right being so full felt. You needed it.

“Faster.”

You followed his orders to the letter. Fucking your cunt harder, faster, relishing in the way your pussy clenched tightly around the toy in it’s desperation. A steady mantra of moans began to pour from your mouth, accented by the occasional curse word as you began to float. You wanted, you needed, but something wasn’t right. It wasn’t enough.

Negan’s voice grounded you back to the moment, as though sensing your frustration. “How about you give those pretty titties some lovin’ hmm? I want you pinching and teasing those fucking nipples for me baby.”

His suggestion left you in a predicament. You were still half dressed in your tank top and bra with the comforter pooled around your waist. Should you pull your breasts out the opening of your top? Take it all off altogether? But then do you cover up with the comforter? Or rip the comforter away completely and expose everything to the man. The hardest part seemed to be coming to terms with the fact that you had to stop fucking your pussy long enough to organise yourself. You didn’t want to stop.

Pushing the toy inside one final time, you leave it there to pull off both your top and your bra in one sweeping motion. Your bare chest feels the chill of the room cooling you down slightly. For a quick second your bravery vanishes feeling nervous, almost scared. Was it okay to let him see? Would he like it? You couldn’t deny at this point that you wanted him to see but actually doing it was a lot for you.

His response was everything you could hope for. “Holy shit baby girl. You’re such a good girl for daddy, letting me look at ya. Beautiful.”

Daddy. Holy shit Negan was trying to kill you. He must be. Death by arousal really wasn’t a bad way to go in the grand scheme of things. You could make your peace with it. No regrets.

With one hand you began to grope your breast, rolling a nipple between your fingers, pinching hard as a jolt of electric arousal surged down to your clit. With the other you returned to the rumbling dildo in your needy pussy, fucking yourself again with new found fervour.

You keened, arching under your own ministrations. You could feel all rational thought begin to slowly slip away and you welcomed the mindless bliss that followed in its wake. You were his. In all honesty you have been his since he laid his claim on you months ago. You need him to take you once and for all.

“Please.” The needy, desperate whine was out of your mouth the second the thought entered your mind.

Negan answers in an instant, attentive and urgent. “Talk to me kitten, what do you want?”

It takes you a few tries to stammer the words out. Arousal and embarrassment making it difficult to string your words together. “I want – ugh fuck.”

Negan groans in pleasure the sound going straight to your core. “Shit making you blush is my new favourite thing. Slow the fuck down baby girl. You don’t get to fuck yourself like that if you’re not gonna fucking answer my question.”

“Fuck.” You repeat yourself, slowing to a torturous pace and you can’t help but cry out with the ache your body gives out in protest. His condescending tone makes you whimper softly and a more coherent part of you wonders how to ask him to do it again.

Negan coaxes you gently, making you feel precious. “C’mon butternut. Use your words.”

“I want you.” You eventually stammer.

Negan raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. “You want me?”

It takes a great deal of effort to swallow your pride and repeat yourself, the confirmation going against every rejection you gave him from the last few months. “Yeah – Yeah I want you Negan.”

Negan swells with pride, his toothy smile making it more than worth it. “Good girl kitten. Good girl. I’m right here with you and I ain’t fucking going anywhere.”

You were glad he wasn’t going anywhere but that wasn’t what you were getting at. “No I want – shit.” You flop your head back against the pillow in frustration, your pussy clenching around the toy. This was hard.

Negan huffs an amused laugh like he already knows. He probably does. Bastard. “Look at me darlin’. You’re gonna need to say the words if you want it.”

There was nothing else to it. You were just going to have to say it. Taking a deep breath you looked Negan in the eye and forced the words out of your mouth. “I want you to fuck me sir. Please.”

As he praised you with as much gusto as he could muster, the triumphant twinkle of his eyes made him look like the cat that got the cream. You supposed you were giving him almost everything he wanted on a silver platter, not that you cared anymore, you wanted it just as badly. “Good girl butternut. I’m proud of you. Go ahead and fuck that pretty pussy nice and hard again for me.”

You preen at his pride. But wait. That wasn’t what you wanted. “But-“

Negan cuts off your pleas with a shake of his head. “-we made a deal sweetheart. As much as I’d love to fuck your sweet cunt – and kitten believe me that’s all I want to do right now – it isn’t going to happen. Not until you can ask for it with a clear head.”

That’s right. You made a deal. It seems so long ago now but you were sure that if you had known it would feel like this you would have decided differently. You consider arguing your point but looking at Negan’s determined expression you realise there’s nothing you can do. He wasn’t going to fuck you.

Your head makes a loud thunk as you hit the back of it against the headboard with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed. Eyes on me princess I’m not done with you yet.”

When you look at him again, Negan waggles his eyebrows suggestively with a wide grin on his face. It’s so ridiculous it makes you giggle, salvaging the mood before it can turn sour.

He inclines his head expectantly and you pick up the pace again, pushing yourself faster and harder wanting to please him. It isn’t long before you feel yourself begin to float again, lost in pleasure.

Negan croons and you drink his voice in hanging onto his every word. “That’s it. Good girl. Does it feel good to have that pussy stretched open? Filling yourself up for me over and over?”

For him. He has such a filthy mouth and it spurs you on even more. You want more, need more. Covered in a sheen of sweat you manage to answer him through the low moans and whimpers. “Fuck Negan, yeah it’s so good.”

As though a damn has been broken Negan becomes relentless in his teasing. “I bet it is. It’s been a long time since anyone fucked you like you deserve huh? And now you finally fucking admit you want me. You want my cock taking care of you instead of that fucking rod don’t you baby girl?”

It was too much, too much in the best possible way. Overwhelmed, something breaks inside of you and you’re unable to hold anything back. With a raw moan you almost sob in need and frustration. “Shit. Yes please. Daddy please fuck me.”

Negan makes an aborted a tempt to touch your leg in reassurance thinking better of it to your dismay. You want him to touch you so badly. “I want to baby. I really fucking do.”

Time starts to slip away from you then. All you know is the panting and whimpering and moaning that fills the air. Steady eyes locked on your trembling form, strong and safe. Clenching and aching and needing and wanting and it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

“You ready to cum for me sweetheart?”

Cum. Yes that was what you needed. You had been so fixated on Negan and his commands and the pulsing pleasurable ache spawning from your cunt that you somehow hadn’t considered such a thing.

Nodding enthusiastically you chase the climax that you were now greedy for, only to realise it wasn’t going to happen like this. You loved being fucked, but you could never orgasm from it. Suddenly the pleasurable torture seemed endless and you couldn’t help the whimper of frustration you let out. You needed more and it wasn’t fair.

Not missing a thing Negan realises immediately. He lets out a groan of admiration, as though the information pleases him. “You can’t cum from just that can you? That’s good to know for next time honey.”

Next time. Fuck. The realisation that this wasn’t going to be a one time thing anymore smacks you in the face, mostly because you’re just so fucking glad that it won’t be. You want more. You want everything with this man.

“Negan.” You beg with the cadences of your voice desperate for his help, wanting so much more than just his voice to guide you.

Negan does touch you then. He gently soothes his palm along the arch of your foot and the effect is immediate. You melt into the mattress, the warmth of his skin on yours soothing your rapidly unravelling nerves. “I’m right here sweetheart. You’re being such a good girl. Haven’t even fucking tried to touch your clit without being told to, don’t think I didn’t notice. I fucking knew you’d be a pro at following orders.”

Of course you hadn’t. You were being good for him, you hadn’t even considered it. You knew Negan would help you and give you what you needed so you had went along for the ride. Now he had mentioned it though, it was all you could think about. “Can I? Please can I touch?”

Negan leans back in his chair with a playful smirk, the warmth of his hand slipping from your skin. “You like it rough darlin’?”

“Yeah.” You nod instantly, feeling a thrill of excitement tremor under your hot skin.

The pleasure is evident in his voice. “Shit you get better by the fucking minute. Slap your needy cunt for me princess. I wanna fucking hear it.”

Eager to please him and thankful in the anticipation of getting some stimulation on your clit you arrange yourself quickly. Pulling the dildo out just long enough to bring your hand down on your pussy the shock of the impact makes your body lurch, the sensation recoiling through your core as the resounding wet slap fills the air.

“Oh god.” It didn’t hurt. It felt amazing. Your pussy was hot and wet and tender with the amount of attention it had received and the slap was a welcome change in sensation making your cunt clench deliciously, spurring you closer to that final edge. Sliding the dildo back inside quickly you feel delirious with lust.

“Again.” Negan commands, his tone leaving no room for hesitation – not that you wanted to.

You strike your flesh harder this time, being able to gauge your tolerance better after the first one. The edge of pain makes you moan loudly, complimenting the sound of the slap. The friction on your clit brings your orgasm back to the front of your mind as you slide the dildo back inside. God you wanted to cum.

“Thank you sir. ”

Negan acknowledges your thanks with a thoughtful hum, nodding his head. “Maybe I’ll make you cum one day just by slapping your pretty cunt seeing as you like it so fucking much. You want another one?”

“Please.” Maybe if he let you, you could cum from slapping your cunt now. The thought of orgasming from something so devious renews that flush of shame, only serving to drive you deeper.

“Again.”

Your body jerks violently as the pain pleasure ricochets through your whole being. You could feel your impending orgasm growing, just out of your reach. It felt amazing and overwhelming, every nerve was alive and attentive to the arousal pulsing through your body.

You were desperate. “Negan please.”

Soothing and understanding, Negan cooed softly to you, appealing directly to that part of you that would do anything to please him. “I know princess. I know. One more thing baby and then we’ll see if you’ve earned it. You’re doing so well for me.”

You sobbed then, so strung out and so aroused that you weren’t sure how much more you could take. But then, you had given yourself completely to this man because you trusted him enough to take care of you. Being pushed towards the ends of what you could handle deepened that blissful submission inside your bones.

His voice is soft. “Take the dildo out and turn it off for me kitten.”

You followed his orders blindly, whining at the loss as your pussy ached and begged for more. Surely this was the exact opposite from what he should want from you.

Sensing your distress Negan comforts you gently. “Good girl. Breathe. C’mon I ain’t done with you. Don’t worry.”

You pull in some deep breaths. Of course he couldn’t just leave you like this. He had something in mind. Curiosity nipped at your thoughts, wondering in and amongst all the ache and raw emotion what he was planning.

“Show me the toy.”

“Fucking hell.” You cuss under your breath, somehow more embarrassed about this one thing than the fact that you’ve been masturbating and moaning for the man for goodness knows how long.

You pull the damp toy out from under the cover. Negan leans forward to inspect it making you wonder again what on earth he was up to. Maybe it was all the hormones addling your brain but you just couldn’t figure it out.

“Now ain’t that a sight. Its fucking soaked with your sweet pussy juice.”

A surge of arousal rolled through your body at his words, the embarrassment making you moan wantonly. You cover your face with your free hand, a ridiculous giggle escaping your mouth.

“No need to be embarrassed sweetheart it’s fucking beautiful. Take a good look.”

Taking a minute to compose yourself, you uncover your eyes and glance at the toy. You know how wet you are down there so it’s not much of a surprise to you just how wet the toy is, glistening slightly with the light coming from the window. What was Negan’s point again?

Looking from the toy to the man at the foot of your bed you furrow your brow in confusion, trying to work out what he wants you to do. He doesn’t leave you confused for long. Leaning forward with darkened eyes, a devilish smirk spreads across his face.

“Suck it.”

What? No. Nope. Nopidy nope. No. He wanted you to-? No. You couldn’t. Could you?

Negan reaches out to touch your ankle, coaxing you gently. “I just wanna see you taste yourself honey.”

For a long moment you just look at him. Mouth gaping open, eyes lightly furrowed in confusion you try to process the request through your foggy mind. Could you? Should you? If you’re honest it’s a little hard to think right now.

“Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. It’s okay baby. ”

You let your eyes flutter closed, taking in a long steady breath. Whatever happened, it would be okay. Negan would make sure it was okay. No matter if you did it or not, he would look after you. He wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t do it. Then a little voice in your mind wonders how happy he would be if you did do it.

It was secure in that knowledge that you embrace the long celebrated philosophy of ‘fuck it’ and bend forward to take the toy into your mouth.

Negan clapped his hands together. “Atta fucking girl! Shit you’re so fucking good.”

At first you struggle with how ridiculous it is that you’re sucking on a dildo in front of him but your mind helpfully supplies you with the remedy. It isn’t hard to jump to the fantasy of sucking Negan’s cock instead, slick from having just fucked you senseless. The tangy taste of your arousal only encourages you. At least you never professed to being innocent.

“Suck that fucker clean for me baby. God damnit honey.” He sounds proud of you and it makes you feel high. You bob your head as far down the shaft as you can, paying special attention to the head before licking the parts you couldn’t reach in the first place. Opening your eyes you find Negan slack jawed looking at you in awe.

“Good girl. Good girl. I am so motherfucking proud of you sweetheart.”

With an audible pop you take the toy out of your mouth and flop backwards against the headboard, panting. You must look such a state to him, you realise as you wipe a small trail of saliva from the corner of your mouth but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re too far gone.

Negan smiles, running a hand over his beard before licking his lips. “Look at you. You’re so fucking gone aren’t you. Beautiful. You want to cum for me baby?”

As you nod eagerly, still completely spaced out, Negan nods along with you. “Yeah you do. C’mon then I want you to use the vibe on your clit again.

Turning the toy back on, you pull your hand under the covers. You’re trembling, arms aching with the effort, shining with sweat but you’ll be damned if you’re going to give up now.

“Oh god.” The feeling is bliss. You rub the toy around your clit as the sensation builds higher and higher, the room soon being filled with your whimpers and soft moans. You’re far too hot and too tightly wound to function but somehow aware of how amazing it’ll be to finally tip over the edge.

Negan diverts your attention before you can get carried away. “Don’t you dare cum without my say so butternut. Talk to me – I wanna fucking hear you.”

While your initial thought is to whine and complain about having to wait any longer you bite your tongue at the idea of coming on Negan’s command. The thought of being so good and so obedient for him was too tantalising to resist so you did your best to hold back from the brink as every other force hurled you towards it.

Somehow you managed to find the words as they began to pour uncensored from your mouth. “Shit. I’m close – fucking – Negan please sir make me cum. Please let me cum. Oh god. I can’t. Fuck.”

Negan insisted, still giving you every ounce of his attention after all this time. “You can. Not yet princess don’t stop.”

His unwavering faith in you was admirable, but you couldn’t help but think he was failing to see the desperation of your situation. Moaning brokenly, you writhe on the bed with the effort of holding back. It was impossible. “Negan please. Please. I want you to see me cum for you. Shit. Please I can’t fucking hold it.“

Negan growled. “Cum for me right fucking now. Cum hard for daddy baby girl.”

Everything snapped. His words forcing you over the edge and into oblivion. Electricity coursed through your every nerve and your used cunt spasmed and pulsed making you shudder uncontrollably. You couldn’t control anything, not the trembling of your thighs nor the obscene noises coming from your mouth. This. This was bliss. If you could stay suspended in this moment forever you would do just about anything.

You’re barely able to register Negan talking you through your orgasm, with you every step of the way. “That’s it. You’re so fucking perfect. Fuckidy fucking fuck I want to fucking keep you. Please let me keep you.”

You had never had an orgasm so hard in your entire life, the intensity of it taking the breath from your lungs and left you floundering for some kind of stability.

“Deep breaths butternut.”

Body twitching through the aftershocks, you gulp in lungfuls of air. Feeling entirely too sensitive now you whimper, pulling the vibrator away and shutting it off quickly before dumping it on the bed somewhere. God you were exhausted. You tried to focus on your breathing as you flop your head back to look at the celling.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

Huffing, you let Negan’s words wash over you, soothing and calm. Your body feels so heavy you refuse to even consider moving. The ache is so far beyond amazing the smile that stretches across your face takes no effort at all.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out loud to the room, finally gaining control of your own mind once again.

You look down your bed to Negan who sits quietly, watching you with a serene smile on his face. As he registers you looking back at him, you wordlessly waggle your eyebrows in mock seduction making him snort a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Laughter comes easily, a small chuckle at first lending itself to the giggle fit that follows after. It’s silly you know, but it just feels so good. Everything feels so good. You laugh until your ribs ache, eyes closed feeling entirely boneless on the bed. You cool yourself down with a sigh, hoping this feeling would seep into your bones and never leave.

“How you feeling honey?”

Everything feels easy. You watch Negan watch you with an easy smile on your face, feeling at ease with the world for the first time in god only knows how long. Who knew orgasms had such magical qualities? You blink in acknowledgement nodding your head slowly. “Me? I’m still fucking shaking. That was, fuck that was amazing. Its never been that good. Fuck.”

Negan snickers at your dazed reply. “Fucking A.”

You realise then that a bottle of water and your pack of wet wipes had both appeared at the bottom of your comforter. Suddenly noticing how thirsty you were, you make an eager grab for the bottle before unscrewing the cap and chugging half it’s contents.

Knowing they hadn’t appeared on their own you make sure to tell Negan you appreciated it. It was really rather thoughtful of him. “Thank you.”

He nods in reply, altogether far too quiet from his usual loud persona but then you aren’t naive enough to assume what just happened didn’t have an effect on him too in some way. In the end you decide to just ask, too raw to dwell on it any other way.

“You okay?” Pulling out a couple of wipes you start to clean off your hands, moving onto your face once you are satisfied.

Negan blinks, leaning back in the chair as the smile spreads across his face, putting most of your worries to bed. “Fuck doll, I am fucking ecstatic. Wound tighter than a fucking pistol and about ready to cum in my very own fucking pants mind you, but shit. You were perfect darlin’.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down to his crotch without shame – given the view Negan had moments ago you doubt he minded. It seemed a shame that you got off and he still hadn’t. Despite your body being completely spent, you still manage to conjure up the fantasy of getting to watching Negan unravel in a similar manner. An aching pulse trembles through your insides at the thought. You were definitely into it.

Your voice is quiet and careful, nerves returning now you weren’t suffocated with need. “If you want, I can take care of it for you?”

Huffing a bittersweet laugh, Negan shakes his head. “Do not tempt me. A deal’s a deal sweet cheeks. Maybe next time if you feel so inclined.” He adds, leaving that option wide open again. Next time.

Right. That deal. So much for not changing your mind. You still want him to touch you now, not even in a sexual way but just so you can feel him. You know he won’t though, you managed to shoot yourself in the foot with that one. Really though you knew you were grateful to the man for listening to what you wanted and not giving into you after the fact. As much as you had wanted it in the moment, you knew you weren’t ready for that – yet.

Negan speaks up when you don’t reply, taking you out of your own thoughts. “So where the fuck did that all that kinky shit come from?”

“Speak for yourself.” You scoff, remembering vividly that it was hardly a one sided affair. “Back when the internet was a thing I knew a guy. He taught me a thing or two and I did a bit of exploring.”

Negan laughs, scrunching up his nose. “That shit beats Dora any day of the week.”

You hum in good humour. “What about you?”

He shrugs easily. “A lifetime of experience doll. I’ve been around the block a few times if you catch my drift.”

With a roll of your eyes you nod. “Ah of course. I should have known. I mean you do have – how many is it now? 5 wives?”

Negan snickers, unfazed by your teasing. “Abso-fucking-loutely. The kinky shit is my bread and butter, though I didn’t have you pegged for such a naughty little girl.”

His words still have an effect on you, your stomach dipping at his tone. Your face flares with the emotions you can’t quite get a handle on and Negan sees it straight away, giving you a knowing smirk.

“Want me to grab some clothes for ya?”

Realising you were still naked in bed, half under the covers you’re grateful for his offer. Your clothes are all sprawled out along the floor, not counting the panties that were most likely still in Negan’s possession. “Yeah actually that’d be great. Thank you.”

Negan eases to his feet, stretching out a little before sauntering over to your dresser. You have no reservations in ogling the man as he turns his back to you in order to rummage in the drawers, admiring the way the grey shirt hugs the defined lines of his back, showcasing his muscles. You giggle quietly to yourself, knowing full well that he has no idea where he’s supposed to be looking, that he’s just being a nosy son of a bitch but it’s not like you have anything to hide.

“Oh I like these.” Negan rumbles gleefully. Interest piqued, you watch as he holds out his find. You’re impressed. Negan had managed to find the one pair of lacy underwear to your name, turning to you with a cheeky grin.

“You can wear these kitten.” He decides, tossing them over to you.

Laughing, you catch the fabric and set it out in front of you. “You are so predictable.”

“Then why aren’t they on that sexy little ass yet then? Chop chop.”

Snorting, you wait until Negan turns back to find the rest of your clothes before slipping them on under the covers. There’s a certain thrill knowing that Negan hand picked your panties that satisfies something inside you. Not that you’re about to divulge that particular titbit of information.

“Shirt and pants honeybunch.” He turns again with the clothes in hand.

You hold out your hands to catch them with a smile. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t throw them. Drawing the fabric closer to his chest, Negan taunts you. “Ah ah ah. Come and get em.”

Your eyes widen. Really? He wanted you to walk virtually butt naked across the room to him, completely exposed while he was still fully dressed. It didn’t seem very fair. Still, you reasoned, he had already seen it all in your varying stages of debauchery. And your panties, despite their general lack of fabric, did give you that final barrier of modesty.

Spurred on by your post orgasmic confidence and general lack of fucks to give, you pull back the covers exposing your legs to the cool air of the room. Swinging them round to the side, you stand up and begin to slowly pad your way to the man who’s eyes rake over your body. You’re all too aware of how your stomach is exposed and how your breasts sway lightly, unhindered by fabric but the predatory gaze in his eye makes it all worth it.

Negan shakes his head as though he can’t believe what he sees. “Shit. Sweetheart you are delicious. I’m gonna bust a nut just looking at you. Fucking fuck. Quick put ‘em on before I change my mind and stop being such a fucking gentleman.” He adds, squeezing his eyes shut for a second and pushing the clothes out towards you.

You laugh at Negan, taking them out of his hands. It feels empowering to know you have such an effect on him and part of you considers taking advantage of the fact. You think better of it though, he had been so resolved to not push the boundaries you had set that it wouldn’t be fair for you to push him like that. Filing the information away for another time, you go back to your spot on the bed pulling on the jeans and tshirt as you go, still feeling a little weak-kneed and achy.

Quickly wrapping the vibrator in a couple of wet wipes, you stow it away in the drawer beside your bed, reminding yourself to wash it properly later. Smoothing out the comforter on the mattress you flop down on your belly with your head at the foot of your bed with a deep sigh of satisfaction. Negan, who had been watching you the entire time, takes the cue to sit back down on chair now much closer to you.

For a few long moments, you just sit together in a comfortable silence. Your body hums with satisfaction, like an itch had finally been scratched within yourself. Resting your head on your arms, you find yourself focusing on Negan’s hand where it rests on the arm of the chair. He has nice hands. You wonder if he was the kind of guy who liked to hold hands or not.

Today hadn’t gone how you expected at all.

“I didn’t really plan on going that far with you.” You muse out loud. It was true. In fact, up until today you had decidedly avoided this exact scenario. Even then you had been determined to be a lot more reserved than you end up being. Negan had a habit of getting under your skin in the best kind of way.

You knew you didn’t regret it though. How could you when you feel so peaceful inside?

Negan huffs, a sceptical look on his face. “I’m really not that bad y’know.”

Frowning, you try to think of a way to explain it. It really wasn’t his fault. At least not directly. In different circumstances you would have no reservations about the man at all. “No I know that. It’s not you. Not really you at all. Its all the bullshit that comes with you. The games the backstabbing the watching over your shoulder every second in case someone had a grudge.”

“You mean you don’t get all that shit already as a saviour?” Through the bravado he almost sounds a little hurt. It makes you want to reassure him or something. Whatever would fix it without compromising your position in the whole hierarchy of the sanctuary. That was what was really at stake here. It wouldn’t be such an issue if it didn’t directly impact your own safety.

“No I do. It’s just as a saviour I’m a number. No one gives a shit what I do so long as I stay in line. There’s safety in that.”

Negan falls silent at that, mulling your words over in his mind for a few long moments before finally talking. “Maybe we can work something out.”

“Yeah maybe.”

Breaking the silence that follows, Negan nudges your mattress with his knee with a wink. “I fucking knew you wanted me.”

“Shut up.” You mutter without any real heat to your voice. Negan barks a laugh at that and you can’t help but smile along.

Another lull in conversation has you thinking again about how close he is and how it would be so easy just to reach out and touch him. You think back to the way his fingers stroked along the skin at the bottom of your stomach and the craving to have his hands on you only intensifies.

With an audible sigh, Negan rubs his hands against his thighs. You look up again to see him glancing to the door and suddenly realise just how one sided the last few minutes have been. Oblivious to your inner thoughts, you worry that you’ve been a little off with him.

“Don’t feel you have to leave all of a sudden.” You try, feeling nervous of rejection after everything.

Negan pauses, giving you a searching look. “You want me to stay?”

You bob your head quietly for a few moments, before finding your voice. “Yeah. Yeah – I mean, unless you don’t –“

“-I’ll stay.” He stops you before you dig a hole for yourself, sounding steady and strong. It puts you at ease.

You look at his sincere expression and it warms your insides. Sighing softly you nod again. “Okay.”

Squinting at him a little you furrow your brow. Would he mind if you asked him? Would that count as being against the deal you made? The longer you debate it the more awkward you feels until you take a deep breath and open your mouth to just ask already.

Before closing it again. Fuck.

“What is it?” Negan asks, reading you like a book.

“What?”

“Whatever the fuck you have going round in that pretty head of yours. I can practically see the cogs turning.”

“Oh.” You start, scrunching up your nose in dismissal and shaking your head lightly. “It’s stupid.”

Negan frowns, looking disappointed. “C’mon butternut.”

You frown at yourself then. What were you doing? You are a strong badass woman. You know that. You know. You held your own amongst and army of men and against the dead. You were sexy. Desirable. Negan wanted you for fucks sake. Why didn’t you feel like that now?

Wetting your lips you swallow hard. What’s the worst he could say? Fuck it. “Can I just – Can I give you a hug?“

Negan blinks. Whatever he had been thinking of you don’t think he had been expecting that. That proud smile that you like a lot more than you should eases onto his face. “A hug? Sure kitten. Of course you can have a fucking hug. Get on over here.“

He pats his lap and to your slight embarrassment you eagerly scramble up and into his arms. Fuck. This was what you needed. Burying your face into the scruff of his neck, his arms wind around you. One hand cups the base of your neck grounding you while the other soothes along the small of your back under your shirt, pulling you close to him. You take in a long deep breath, surrounded by the smell of his aftershave and something uniquely Negan and you shudder lightly.

“I got you baby. It’s okay.”

You don’t even realise you’re crying at first. It isn’t a bad cry, or a sad one. It confuses you because for so long you’ve associated crying with something bad that you aren’t quite sure what’s wrong with you. You’re just so fucking relieved.

Negan presses a kiss to the top of your head, stroking along your skin over and over again as he rocks you gently. It feels good. “You’re one of the strongest fucking people I know darlin’.”

You scoff bitterly, shaking your head a little. “Not today.”

His fingers still and you instantly regret your choice in words for that reason alone. He sounds a little dumbfounded. “You really think this shit makes you weak?”

You don’t have a reply for him, freezing in place. Did you really think that? No. If you were honest you had come to terms with the whole kinky side of yourself a long time before walkers roamed the earth. But then again, you had just completely thrown your own reservations out of the window on account of pure lust. The jury was still out on if that was a good decision or not.

When you don’t reply Negan tuts, sighing as he runs a warm calloused hand down your arm soothingly. “Oh honey. Letting your fucking hair down once in a while, doing this shit, allowing yourself to be vulnerable - that doesn’t take anything away from who you are. You’re fucking badass and this just makes you stronger.”

You let his words warm you, taking them to heart. He was right of course and you knew that, but having his support however biased gave you that last bit of validation you needed to come to terms with it all. This was Negan after all. He wasn’t going to hurt you. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen. You enjoyed it and that was that. Easy.

Nodding along you take another long deep breath and sigh, slowly relaxing your muscles in his embrace. Tilting your head you press a tender kiss to the edge of his jaw. Maybe you were pushing it a little but you hoped he wouldn’t mind.

“Thank you.” You whisper softly.

You’re not sure exactly how long you stay like that. Negan alternates between rubbing your back, stroking your arm and scratching at your scalp, murmuring things into your ear about how beautiful you are and how proud he is of you. It’s so uncharacteristic of him but you drink his praise in anyway, slowly sinking further and further into his chest.

At some point Negan chuckles, rearranging you slightly in his lap. “Let’s get you tucked back into bed. Kitten needs a fucking nap after all the excitement don’t ya?”

Just as you’re about to force your muscles to move Negan takes you by surprise, scooping you up in a bridal lift and carrying you round to the side of your bed.

With his help you shuffle back under the comforter and he takes a seat on the edge of the bed by your side. He gently pushes your hair away from your face, stroking down your cheek gently with that look in his eye. You blink slowly at him, feeling completely and utterly exhausted in the every way. In the best way.

The last thing you register is Negan’s voice, sounding soft and quiet. “I won’t be here when you wake up doll but my door is always open for you. No matter what alright? Balls in your court darlin’.”

#negan smut #negan imagine #negan twd #negan thirst squad #mine

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inspiredstory · 7 years ago

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Dream Store - Chapter 2

Hi everyone.

Due to Jonghyun’s passing, I felt the need to rework my original intentions with this fanfiction since it is all about life after death. I didn’t write this to disrespect Jonghyun or his family or fellow bandmates, I wrote it to help us fans. To help us find some sort of comfort even if it’s just in a fanfiction. Please understand that the news received today has devastated not only me but also other members of various fandoms.

I want you to all love each other and protect each other. Love and protect Shinee. They need us. They’ve given us so much and now we need to show them that we can give back to them and be there when they need us the most.

Jonghyun, like the boys from SVT will be making appearances in my fic as I’ve given him an important role due to what has happened to him.

Please enjoy and please, message me if you need someone to talk to.

Read on Ao3: GO HERE for Chp. 2

Summary: [YN] runs into someone she feels that she knows but her memory is still hazy. The conversation they have… is bittersweet

(the things that are underlined are words I want my fellow grieving friends to really pay attention to.)

The guys all split up in an attempt at finding [YN] who had run off after hearing Woozi’s bitter words. She was dead along with everyone she had just met. Some headed in the direction of the Dream Store, thinking that maybe she had gone back, others headed into the alleyways but to no avail. She had hidden herself on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in the area.

The tears continuously poured down her face as she violently sobbed into her hands in complete disbelief. What about my friends, my family, my pets? What happens now? This isn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She mentally screamed at herself. Her face weakly looked up from her wet palms only to be met with the scene in front of her quickly changing. She suddenly was transported to a house where she sat on a nice white couch with one also facing in her direction. There was a small coffee table in the middle, distancing both couches from each other. A bright glow suddenly blinded her, making her shield her eyes. A soft voice called out,

“Did it work?”

That voice… it was foreign yet also familiar. [YN] slowly removed her hands from her face in order to take a look at who had asked the question. There was a man sitting in front of her wearing black pants and an orange sweater with three or four black & white stripes on it, his face was beautifully chiseled and if anything the sweater really helped define his body structure. He was, in two words, handsomely beautiful. His face was directed upwards as he stared at the ceiling of the big vacant house they were in.

“It worked…” he mumbled to himself.

His voice kept ringing some sort of alarm inside [YN]’s head as if it was reminding her of some sort of event or emotion, perhaps a memory. She stared at him, confused unknowingly still sniffing from her earlier sobs. One of her sniffles caught the man’s attention as his gaze fixated on hers.

“[YN]?” he questioned with wide eyes, standing up from the couch in disbelief, “There’s no way… what are you… how? How are you here?”

“You… know me?” she croaked out, her throat hurting from how violent her sobs came out completely ignoring his last statements about her.

“You don’t remember me?” he asked with a clear expression of pain on his face. “I could die all over again…” he dryly laughed.

“I’m sorry… I’ve just had a lot to assimilate today. You’re aware that you’re dead?”

“Of course I do. I planned it.”

“You did what?!” [YN] yelled out, hastily making her way over to him with tears rebuilding in her eyes. There was a newfound emotion in her heart something similar to nostalgia.

“I killed myself, [YN].” He responded with his voice just above a whisper. His head hung low as if he were ashamed of his decision.

“Jonghyun… why?” she cried out, the tears slipping down her cheeks once again. She was too caught up in her emotions to realize that she remembered his name. Her hands reached up to his low hanging head and brought it onto her shoulder where they both proceeded to cry. His hands strongly wrapped around her waist, gripping onto her shirt as if it was the only thing keeping him from standing.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep fighting. My past… my present… my future… it all became too much. Every lie I ever told every mask I ever had to put on just to make it through the day. I couldn’t do it anymore… I heard you were in the hospital and I lost it. You were the one person that held me together… even if you didn’t know it. I stayed strong because of you.” He looked up and smiled sadly at her, his hands softly tracing her face, “You didn’t even know me all that much, we didn’t even talk as much as we should’ve… I never got to tell you everything that I wanted to say to you while you were alive. Now, look at us…”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Jonghyun. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve protected you. I can’t even remember how I know you but my heart hurts so much knowing you’re not alive and living on. I feel something when I’m looking at you and I hate not knowing what that feeling is. I feel guilty Jonghyun, I feel so guilty… like I should’ve done more to let you know how much you meant to me. Fuck… please; tell me who you are to me. Are we… siblings? Lovers? I don’t know… please, tell me.”

“I can’t tell you that, [YN] but from what I can feel inside me is that you’ll find out soon enough. What I also know is that… I’m not going anywhere… at least not for a while. Apparently, I have to wait for my brothers and who knows how long that’ll take.” He smiled genuinely this time before pressing his lips to her forehead.

[YN] gasped as a brief memory flashed in her head.

“You… I know you. I mean… yeah ok we know that but, I mean… we’re friends… or we were… Oh my god. You kissed me that way when we were at a friend’s holiday party and we just so happened to be standing underneath the mistletoe he hung up.”

“You remember that?” he asked with his smile happily displayed on his face.

“Yes! I’m not sure why I barely remembered it but I remember. You had said something too… something along the lines of ‘so you won’t be bothered by him anymore’.”

“That’s exactly what I said that night… our friend, our mutual friend kept pestering you about not having someone to kiss under the mistletoe so I stepped up and gave you that kiss.” He let out a sigh, his eyes staring deep into hers. “There’s so much I wish I could say to you right now… so so much… but right now you have your own journey to go through.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Jonghyun… I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t even know how I got here. How will I find you again?”

“I’m always with you… in your heart and in your mind. As long as you keep me present in those places you’ll always be able to find me and I’ll always be able to feel that you care for me. You need to go do what you have to do… as do I. Even if we’re both stuck here, in this particular situation you need to know that I want you to move on and do whatever is meant to be. You have a lot to do before we can meet up again.”

“How do you know that? I haven’t been here long but surely longer than you.”

“Ah… someone came to me in a dream and told me. It’s hard to explain but I need you to trust me. We’ll meet again one day and when we do we’ll be ready to move towards whatever it is that’s meant for us.”

“Promise me you’ll wait for me here and that no matter where we are… you’ll be with me… in my heart.”

“I promise.”

“Jonghyun?”

“Yes?”

“You did well.”

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logs-blogs-reviews · 4 years ago

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The Black Parade - Short & Very, Very Sweet

Tracklist:

1. The End

2. Dead!

3. This is How I Disappear

4. The Sharpest Lives

5. Welcome to The Black Parade

6. I Don’t Love You

7. House of Wolves

8. Cancer

9. Mama

10. Sleep

12. Disenchanted

13. Famous Last Words

Okay, let’s try this out. Hmm, The End > Dead! is a classic duo, and shapes our narrative. “This is How I Disappear” is where the drums get to begin to boom, the guitars get mean and strict on their counts, and your head is banging like a motherfucker before you know it. I actually would say this song is in the top 4 for me off this album. A true highlight, but we’re still just getting started

“without you is how i disappear and live my life alone, forever.....

/So I can’t hurt you anymore....” The final harmonies from Gerard are just....... <3

The Sharpest Lives one of the most unique songs I’ve ever heard. I heard it at a young age, I think this album came out in 2006, so I was in middle school, only having access to the downloads I could find, and this song was available. So..... no matter WHEN and how often I listen to this album, I’ll be reminded of driving around in the car with my dad. That’s when I listened to it the most. And I like that sediment in which its held.

The poetry in this album is not to go unnoticed. My Chemical Romance has always has a knack for getting the lyrics perfect.

.....And there it is. That FUCKING NOTE. Yes, this is the heart of the album. This is worth the first 30 minutes. You know, while this song plays, I’ll say, I find it hard now days to visit this album in doses as such “single songs”. This is such a short enough album, it’s too hard not to admit you might have ten minutes under the hour to yourself, why not? It’s 50 minutes long (the original release)

I love that it’s short and sweet, and too the point. ......And then we hear, “Sometimes I get the feeling she’s watching over me”

The guitars in welcome to the black parade are BRUTAL. These songs are just so, unlike anything other band.

“I’m not ashamed, I’m going to show my scars”

The guitar in this song is unreal. These guys play very fast and I am inlove with it.

Track #6 is “I don’t Love You” which is a good come down from all of the energy the first act has punched at us. God, Gerard’s voice..... <3

While this song plays, let me just set the mood. I kind of had a shit workday and decided to just put this album on. I plan on listening to tons and tons of more music tonight, and maybe watching some more “VH1′s behind the music” I don’t know if a single person will ever read these posts. but I like this idea, and I like the idea of another fan discussing an album that, just resonates so deeply with them. The band created all of this - I did not, I had nothing to do with any of it. But, God damn, if we can’t relate to feeling scared, feeling hurt, and feeling empty and sad inside.

I Don’t Love you is still playing. and I am getting chills. <3

House of Wolves is a good change of beat. The drums in this one are my favorite treat of the entire song.

“Tell me I’m a bad man, kick me like a stray!!”

Dude, I totally forgot, that SLIDE GUITAR. This song has helped me out a lot in my life. This one has stuck out while in some of my deepest trips.

I am a total bitch for piano. And I have always loved this song because I enjoyed singing a lot when I was getting antiquated with this band back in my earlier years. And, I just made the lyrics in my head a LOT. As I grew older, I stoppepd singing outloud and I let the music play and I HEARD what they wrote down. This song reminds me of my uncle who is currently going to chemo and not feelign too great. I love him a lot. I want him to get better. I know he will.

On a different note, the lyric, “Know that I WILL NEVER MARRY!!” is performed with the most angelic sounding voice, in the world.

“The hardest part of this is leaving you.” Again, the poetry is the real star of this band.

Mama is always stuck in my head. I love this song. It’s simple and it’s a groove. So, I am a total bitch for it. lol :P

“stop asking! Me questions!!! I HATE TO SEE YOU CRY”

“You should have been - I could have been a better son”

Now, I can’t quite conduct a good wrap up for this album. Music is what we get out of it. I love it. It’s a good album after a rotten day of work. It’s a good break up album. I find music like this, it’s almost a little hard to put on when you’re just at home relaxing. When I was a kid, yes, I listened to this all the time without a second thought, but now these lyrics these stories and characters the songs share with us, I have to be in the mood for it. (nowadays at least) That’s not to say, I don’t enjoy it when I’m in a good mood, but it’s just hard to revisit music that has truly helped you shaped out your personality on some of your worst days. These musicians help so many people, I think that is so cool.

Sleep reminds me of a green day song, bang bang and I have no idea why. It’s a chill-ass song. Can’t really come up with much more for this one. Not necessarily one that sticks out for me. But I love the intro. Bang bang is more fast but idk they go together good on a playlist. After all of the hype the first 30 minutes gives you, this song is a necessary cool-down. “Just sleep....”

The guitar into for Disenchanted hasnt started yet but I know its coming <3

TEENAGERS!! What a great surprise!! I forgot this song was on here!!!

“THEY SAY ALL TEENAGERS SCARE!!!! THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME”

(blistering guitar solo) FUCK YES god, i never really had a love affair with this song either but idk, its working for me right now. I cant stop thinking of the music video lol will probably watch it later tonight!!

Shit I’m just remembering MCR was suppose to play in MA before C-19 ruined it. </3

Ahh, yes, “Well I was there, on the day.... They sold the cause for the queen””

I always loved this one. Maybe top 3 off the album.

Shit, I have to do my top 5 now.

5. The End

4. This is How I Disappear

3. Disenchanted

2. Mama/Cancer - both a tie for #2

1. Welcome to the Black Parade / Famous Last Words - Yes fuck you, its a TIE

God, I LOVE THIS BAND

Here’s another shot because, I had kind of a CRAP DAY AND I know all the station password ;P lol jk jk BUt I am getting more drunk by the minute, cheers.

Okay, I knew it was coming. I’m just gonna headbang the last 5 minutes, again, cheers.

Enjoy California sweetie.

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tumbalumps · 8 years ago

Text

Monsoon vs Bladewolf

Another pile of shit I wrote when I was high

Monsoon never could have predicted that such a mundane task like shopping would trigger such extraordinary events. It was early evening as the cyborg strolled around Lidls doing his weekly shop. His basket was almost full of his usual items - magnet polish, tooth whitener, hair straighteners, scrap metal, tarantulas and some oil to fry them in... There was only one more thing, perhaps the most important thing, that he needed to get. He turned into the alcohol aisle and spotted a lone flagon of white cider; the last one in the store. At the opposite end of the aisle was Bladewolf who had also been shopping for his essentials. His robot dog eyes were on the cider too. Sensing he may have competition, Monsoon decided to take no chances and dismembered himself to launch his speedy tornado move to get straight to the prize. Bladewolf launched into action and bound down the aisle with his artificial tongue flopped out. The pair collided inches away from their goal creating an explosion of spilled shopping items and Monsoon's body parts. "This cider's mine!" Monsoon declared pulling himself together and clasping a hand on the flagon. "Negative," Bladewolf responded in his monotonous robot voice as he wrapped his tail around the neck of the bottle. They exchanged deathly stares and did the only thing they knew how: fight. Monsoon pounced on him but Bladewolf was no easy prey. He tail whipped him in the face and flipped him off and soon they were rolling around the supermarket floor grappling for the cider like a pair of amateur wrestlers on Money in the Bank. During the struggle a strange feeling of Deju vu came over them and it dawned on them that they had met before. Ten years ago, in the early hours of a Saturday morning, they had just so happened to bump into each other whilst drunkenly staggering home from a club. Memories were vague but weird sexual activity had taken place in a phone box that never would have happened if they had been sober. Ashamed of themselves, they had gone their separate ways and repressed it as deeply as possible, never seeing each other again. Each wondered silently if the other was thinking the same and decided not to mention it, in the hope that they had forgotten. Meanwhile, the scuffle had attracted the attention of the security guards. Two stern looking cyborgs stood over them with their arms folded. "What's going on here then?" the first asked, raising an eyebrow. They yelled at the same time drowning each other out with their childish squabbling and resorting to hair and tail pulling. The security guards looked at each other and shook their heads. "If neither of you are willing to back down then you will have to share." "No way! I have won this!" "Negative. Failure of this mission would violate tonight's objective." The guard spoke firmly, "If you do not agree to share we'll have no choice but to ban you both from the store and report you to your bosses." It dawned on Monsoon that the consequences of this would be dire. Not only was this the only shop for miles but he did not want Armstrong to know he had been wrestling an AI dog on the floor for three litres of white cider. Regrettably there was no choice in the matter. They begrudgingly glared at each other and nodded.

Monsoon's apartment was bigger and the closest so they agreed to go there. Bladewolf planned to share a little with him then swipe it when his back was turned. Monsoon had no intention of sharing any at all (not with Bladewolf anyway). The first thing Bladewolf noticed about Monsoon's apartment was that it was one of a kind. His jaw dropped when he saw the living room. The carpet was invisible under a sea of what to the untrained eye looked like scrap metal. There were bits of tank, helicopter, car parts and set aside even some motorcycle parts. Some of them had the creepy purple Lorentz aura about them. The leather sofa was covered in them too leaving only a small space for a single person to sit down. Plant pots were dotted around in random places and numerous Richard Dawkins and Hendrik Lorentz pictures hung on the wall as if Monsoon worshipped them as gods. The last thing he spotted was propped up in the corner: that damn, godforsaken, unholy Wheel. He would stay as far away from that thing as possible. The so called living room appeared as nothing more than a magnetic scrap metal lab. Bladewolf concluded that it most definitely deviated from the social norms he was programmed with. Monsoon spied the stunned look on his face and explained, "It's simply the way things are; this way I know where everything is so it’s easier and more efficient. It's who I am see. All is as it should be." "We shall be needing some glasses. Do you think you could find some amongst all your weird shit?" Bladewolf shot back, realising that perhaps he had been learning too much of Raiden's vocabulary. Monsoon grunted and reluctantly fetched two half pint glasses. He would permit Bladewolf to that before he booted him out of his house and kept the cider. He also permitted him to sit on the only seat in the room, but only so he could creep him out by sitting on the ceiling. To his annoyance, Bladewolf did not seem phased by this, he was an AI afterall. An uncomfortable silence fell on the room, which Monsoon broke by disconnecting his hand and rifling through Bladewolf's shopping bag. "Let's see what you got, shall we," he grinned snidely at him. "Ooh a squeaky toy, a dog dish, Pedigree Chum... What's this? A leash, dog collar, a Brazillian edition pot noodle and WKD! Tell me: what would a dumb AI dog want with those?" "I see no reason to share my objectives with you," Bladewolf answered coldly. "Do as you please!" yelled Monsoon angrily as he necked his cider in one. "I've got my own objectives to attend to." Rattled, he threw the shopping bag down purposely spilling all the contents and scurried into the kitchen, which was also covered in various vehicle parts leaving only a small space on the worktop and cooker. There was something that bothered him about Bladewolf's shopping list. He put it down to nothing more than paranoia and began making preparations for dinner: fried tarantulas with crickets as a garnish - they were a delicacy in Cambodia. He only made the effort to cook on special occasions or when entertaining guests. All he had to do was get rid of Bladewolf before the said guest arrived. Bladewolf padded into the kitchen curious about what the unusual smell was. Tarantulas! What the hell! But that was not the only odd thing he noticed; "I calculate that the portion sizes are inadequate for just a singular meal. Are we expecting company or is this strange concoction for me?" "I see no reason to share my objectives with you!" Monsoon shot back sarcastically. Bladewolf scowled and headed back into the living room as the smell of fried spiders became overwhelming. He figured the extra meal probably wasn't for him and he dreaded to think what kind of people Monsoon mixed with. If they were anything like him then the situation would become even more awkward; one was bad enough. He may have had some weird tendancies, however he wasn't stupid and had taken all necessary precautions to guard the precious cider in keeping it right next to his fryer amongst bits of magnetic scrap. A distraction was needed. Heading back into the so-called living room, Bladewolf pondered over tactics. For reasons his giant intellect could not fathom, he got a weird kick out of antagonising the cyborg. He found him strangely intriguing: a worthy opponent. He was drawn to one of the plant pots, (which looked oddly out of place amongst all the mechanical equipment) to see what he was growing. There were some pretty pink flowers alongside some psychodelic looking mushrooms that were probably best avoided. Bladewolf smirked and pushed the pot off the ledge. Monsoon heard the smash and came dashing in, "What are you doing you stupid clumsy mutt?" Bladewolf replied with a hint of smugness, "Oh erm.. I apologise. I seem to have broken one of your Pol Pots." "What did you say?" Monsoon snarled. He was very sensitive about the traumatic childhood he had spent on the killing fields. "Plant pots." Monsoon gave him a death stare that was invisible from underneath his dome. A fake smile appeared to mask his plotting, "Oh, I must have misheard you. I suppose it’s OK I've got loads more." Bladewolf looked at him suspiciously. Why was he suddenly being nice? Monsoon's grin spread, "How about we try and be amicable towards each other seeing as we will be sharing this cider." "Your terms seem acceptable." "Good doggy. How about we play some fetch?" he said whipping out the stick he'd stolen from his shopping bag. Bladewolf's tail wagged furiously; he was a sucker for a game of fetch. The fact that Monsoon was willing to play it with him almost made up for how obnoxious he had been earlier in the supermarket. He happily followed him into the garden jumping up and down in excitement. Monsoon had a huge grin on his face that was difficult to read without seeing his eyes. Was he wide-eyed and full of joy or scowling sinisterly? Was he to be trusted? He tossed the stick far into the garden and it disappeared into a bush. Perfect; it was the ideal cover for him to perform his stealth attack... Bladewolf fell for it hook, line and sinker; he darted across the garden to the shrubs, only to find that the stick had been replaced by one of Monsoon's detached legs, which swiftly sprang into action and booted him in the face. Damn that crafty cyborg! He decided he had to up his game... Monsoon retreated back into his kitchen, chuckling maniacally to himself as Bladewolf lay whimpering and injured on his side. His fried tarantulas were almost cooked to perfection. The timing was perfect for his date were due to arrive very soon. Nevertheless a quick codec call to make sure he was on his way wouldn't hurt. 'Good evening my love. I trust you are on your way. I have prepared an exquisite meal for us. I am looking forward to seeing you.'

Meanwhile, in a nearby motel room, Jetstream Sam sat up in bed and wiped his brow after enjoying a steamy session with Raiden, who lay flat out exhausted next to him. He reached over to the bedside table and discreetly checked his codec. It had only been abandoned for a mere hour but already had several messages left on it. He sighed - it was hard being as popular as he was. It was even harder still to satisfy the tremendous sex drive he had... No singular cyborg, human or animal had managed to fulfill it, which is how he justified enjoying them all. "Who's calling you?" Raiden mustered up the last of his strength to ask. "Don't worry, nobody as good as you, pretty boy," Sam smiled, playfully running his fingers through his hair. It was true, Raiden held the largest place in his heart (still that didn't give him the right to be so possessive!) but there were things he craved that he just couldn't satisfy. That was where Monsoon and Bladewolf came into it... He had dates with both of them lined up. Monsoon harboured some of the kinkiest freakiest fetishes that not even the darkest XXX website catered for, while Bladewolf would be his loyal unquestioning servant and do anything he wanted just like the obedient dog he was... And the beauty of it was none of the three were likely to speak to one another so he could use the same puny excuse to get away and have each think he was their one and only. "You know I have VR training to go to," he smiled at Raiden. "I know," Raiden said glumly. "Same time tomorrow though?" "Of course. I'm missing you already." He kissed him and departed for Monsoon’s place, smiling to himself, “I’m just getting started!”

Bladewolf padded back into the house after escaping the rogue limb, his pride literally dented. Analysis of that damn Monsoon, who stood frying his tarantulas with that infuriating grin on his face, concluded that he really was a smug, creepy weirdo and it was just as well that he had that big thing on his head to contain his ego. But it was OK, he would have the last laugh. For now he would let him think that he had the upper hand while he planned his next move. In the living room, in pride of place above all the junk and hanging on the wall were Dystopia, Monsoon's precious Sais. It was where he hung them when he was at home and not ripping people to shreds on the battle field. If there was a way of getting to him, then this was certainly it. So... Monsoon wanted to play fetch? If he was going to get treated like a dog then surely the only thing to do would be to act like one! He tore them from their throne and pinned them down with his metal paws like a hungry predator going in for the kill. It was in a dog's nature to maul and chew things of value. A regular dog would go for things like furniture, slippers or newspaper but he was a cyborg dog with razor sharp metal teeth that could tear up much more. The Sais were infused with Lorentz, which made them a little tough, nevertheless he managed to leave some jagged teeth marks as he slobbered and savaged them as if they were a bone. Monsoon would be furious... On hearing the feral growling from the kitchen, the cyborg dashed in to see what destruction he was causing. It was to his complete and utter horror that his beloved Dystopia were being mauled by that vile mutt! "What the hell do you think you are doing? How dare you!" he bellowed. Bladewolf looked up a sweet look of satisfaction upon his face to see the enraged Cambodian launch himself at him. He should have expected a revenge attack! Yet again, they became embroiled in a whirlwind of metallic body parts grappling at each other on the floor, hair and tail pulling like children. Once again the feeling of deja-vu swept over them. The claws of Bladewolf scraped down his attacker’s face, slicing one of the few human parts he had left. Monsoon’s artificial heart thudded and his skin tingled. Obviously, he felt more pain to his actual flesh than his cyborg body would permit and the scratch gave a jolt to his senses and made him feel alive! A desire he could not understand nor control took hold of his senses and in the grip of its vice he pinned Bladewolf onto his back and ran his tongue along his snout. Bladewolf’s eyes widened with curiosity and the same unknown feeling took hold of him too…

Drawing ever closer was Jetstream Sam, after taking a quick shower to erase the smell of he and Raiden’s bodily fluids from their earlier encounter. He felt as fresh as a daisy but of course it wouldn’t last if past experiences with Monsoon were anything to go by. He was a kinky devil and such an attentive lover! His hair slick back in his usual ponytail he walked up Monsoon’s street with a cocky swagger in his step and a cheeky grin on his tanned face. What sort of fetish would he be indulging in today? He tapped the heavy front door but there was no response. Strange noises could be heard inside: rhythmic grunting and moans… Sam was intrigued so tried the handle. Monsoon usually left it unlocked when he was expecting him although he liked to knock just out of politeness. However the door was open. Nothing could have prepared Sam for what he was about to see.

There was Bladwolf being pinned to the ground by Monsoon who was holding him by the scruff with one hand while violently fisting him with the other. A twisted expression was upon Bladewolf’s face as he yelped and Sam was unsure as to whether or not he was enjoying himself or just in vast amounts of pain. There was no such doubt with Monsoon though; his sadistic grin was spread ear to ear. It was at least a minute before either of them noticed that they were being watched but Sam was more than happy to watch the show. “Ahem…” Sam said clearing his throat. The interruption startled them. Bladewolf was mortified – he had genuine feelings for Sam and did not want him to think of him as being disloyal. On the other hand, Monsoon could not have cared less because he had no interest in being in an exclusive relationship, or any kind of relationship for that matter other than a sexual one. “Sam… why are you here?” Bladewolf asked. “I could ask you the same question,” Sam said, intrigued. “This stupid mutt was helping me warm up for you,” Monsoon grinned. “He was just leaving.” “Well, let’s not be too hasty,” Sam said, the corner of his lips curling into his own cheeky grin... "Let's dance!"

#monsoon #bladewolf #jetstream sam #fanfiction #cider

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