#how to cook ribs in the oven

[moteldogs]

I wasn’t built to be on my own. who is going to eat all this food I just cooked

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

For @v88sy

"Nothing beats a real 3 alarm fire, right Bobby?" Chimney joked as he and crew started to make their way out of the trucks.

They were covered in grime and soot after dealing with said 3 alarm fire at a shipping distributor. The fire took nearly 4 hours to put out, fortunately for the 118 they didn't lose anyone but a lot of workers were critically injured.

Despite the rough call, Bobby felt invigorated. It was only his fourth shift back as Captain but he felt like it was his first day ever as Captain. The same energy he felt decades before buzzed through his veins as he watched his team tiredly make their way to the showers.

"You guys did great." Bobby noted to his team, "Hit the showers and I'll whip something for us for a late lunch. We're off the roster for an hour."

Bobby was ready to hit the showers himself when he noticed a few folks were sniffing the air.

Bobby inhaled as well, face scrunching in confusion as he smelled something spicy but sweet.

"Unless we're all having a collective stroke, I smell barbecue." Eddie said excitedly, already running up the stairs to the loft, followed up by the others and Bobby.

Bobby half expected Athena to be up in the kitchen, but instead he saw a familiar 6' 2 frame standing over the oven.

"Tommy?" Buck was all smiles as he rushed over to his boyfriend, pulling in the man for a kiss and causing both men to laugh as the soot from Buck's face transfered over onto Tommy's face.

"What are you doing here, man?" Chimney asked, patting the other man on the back. Eddie pulled Tommy in for his own hug along with Hen.

Tommy shrugged, nudging his chin towards the multiple items on the stove top. "I heard about the massive fire you guys had to deal with. Figured I could come by and give Cap and Evan a break in cooking for you guys."

"Tommy, you didn't have to do all this." Bobby looked at the multiple dishes, "i know how busy the harbor team gets, you should be enjoying your time off."

Eddie had already opened the over and took a dramatic deep inhale. "And if in his time off he enjoys making us delicious barbecue, who's to say we shouldn't accept?" Eddie clapped his hands and rubbed them excitedly, "All this gonna be ready after we shower?"

Tommy laughed, catching how annoyed Buck was looking at Eddie. "Yeah, you guys go shower." He turned to Buck, "I got it from here."

Buck stepped closer, a playful smirk was all Chimney and Hen needed to see before declaring "No! No hooking up in the showers!' Chimney reminded the younger firefighter who only looked sheepishly over at fed up Bobby.

"We know that look Buck." Hen reminded him teasingly.

Buck let out a frustrated loud sigh as he pouted at Tommy. Tommy was all smiles though, he pulled Buck by his turnout coat and kissed him quickly.

"I'll be back." Buck promised as he followed the others down the stairs to the showers.

That only left Bobby.

"I didn't know you knew how to cook." Bobby mused as he watched Tommy start to pull out the larger serving dishes from the cabinets. Bobby was even more surprised that Tommy remembered where everything was still.

"Yeah," Tommy rummaged around the drawers for serving utensils, "Learned off and on over the years, picked up on cooking mostly during quarantine. I figured might be fun to learn new recipes during the lockdown so I got really into smokers and barbecue so..." he waved serving tongs over the trays of chicken and ribs. "Voilà, I guess." He laughed.

Bobby raised a brow, not at the food but at Tommy.

This definitely wasn't the same man who worked under Bobby years ago.

This Tommy was definitely more confident and self-actualized. There was an easiness to Tommy that wasn't there before.

Tommy caught him staring, "Foods gonna be ready in a minute Cap, go ahead and shower."

Before Bobby could respond Buck came running up the steps, freshly showered and in clean clothes.

It occurred to Bobby at that moment he had never seen either men smile that brightly before. Buck was looking damn near giggly as Tommy's eyes gave away on how gone Tommy was for Buck.

"Ready to help." Buck smiled bashfully as Tommy pulled on a still wet curl hanging over Buck's forehead.

"God, you're cute."

That was Bobby's cue to leave.

By the time Bobby came back the loft, the food was already dished out and the crew was already seated. Bobby figured the cheers was more so about the team being finally able to eat rather then Bobby finally sitting with them

Eddie was the first to go at the food. "Buck," Eddie's eyes were all stars as he grabbed at everything, already drooling. "You should know, if you and Tommy were to break up, he gets me in the divorce. Ankles be damned."

"Me too." Hen moaned as she started to eat. "Tommy, where the hell did you learn how to make this?"

As Tommy and the others started to talk about cooking, Bobby caught Chimney’s sad smile.

"You good Chim?"

Chimney nodded, looking wistful as he told Bpbby in a low voice. "I guess I just realized how stuck Tommy was back in the day." Chimney took a moment to stare at Tommy who was whispering something to Buck that had the other man turn bright red and laugh, the reaction had Tommy looking all too pleased.

"Gerrard used to bug him about bringing over his girlfriend over so she could cook for us. Tommy would make a bunch of excuses about why his girlfriend never showed to the station or to the bar after work."

Bobby nodded, understanding where Chimney was going with this.

After dinner Bobby insisted that Tommy let the others clean up, with Buck pushing his boyfriend to sit and relax with Bobby.

"You're good for him." Bobby told Tommy in a matter of fact voice.

Tommy looked taken back, Bobby caught the flicker of worry and something else that was too familiar for Bobby. That certain fear of not being enough.

"You honestly think so?" Tommy asked softly, his eyes following Buck around the kitchen.

Bobby didn't want to jump to conclusions or anything, but he knew love when he sees it.

"I know so." He patted the younger man on the back. "It's nice having you back here, Tommy."

Tommy's smiled bashfully towards the ground before looking up. "It's nice being back, honestly." He promised.

Bobby clapped him on his back, "Good."

[crushpunky]

a cameron family vacation: a night in

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

The trek back from the coffee shop was uneventful; Sarah and John B disappearing to do god knows what and y/n and Rafe to go on a sort of impromptu sightseeing tour which ultimately resulted in ditching her flimsy sandals a mile from the hotel and Rafe giving her a piggyback ride the last quarter mile. By the time they finally made it back, the sun was already beginning to dip below the treetops, bathing the city in a golden hue.

“Thank you, thank you!” Y/n sang as Rafe finally let her back down to her feet in the hotel room. Rafe straightened out with an exaggerated groan, clawing at his back in faux distress. Y/n hit him playfully before darting into the living room, tossing herself down on the couch with a groan. Rafe followed behind her, sitting down on the couch.

“Finally you guys are back!” Wheezie said from the chair opposite the couch. Y/n turned over at her voice, stretching her legs across Rafe’s lap as she looked at the youngest Cameron. She was still wearing her pajamas, her phone ditched as she also joined y/n on the couch.

“What did you do today?” Y/n asked, propping herself up, her legs still draped over Rafe’s lap, his fingers tracing slowly along the skin of her ankle.

“Nothing! Dad and Rose ditched me to go to some wine tasting class.” Wheezie groaned, sinking further into the couch. Y/n frowned, soothing a hand along Wheezie’s arm. Y/n always saw Wheezie as a little sister, absolutely loathing the way Ward and Rose treated the youngest Cameron.

“That was pretty shitty of them, Wheeze.” Rafe scoffed. Y/n whipped around to him, her expression stern at his language. Despite Wheezie being a teenager and most definitely hearing worse on a daily basis, she still saw her as the little sister she met so many years ago.

“Well… how about we go down to the market down the street and grab some stuff for dinner? We can cook a nice dinner just for the three of us, how’s that sound?” Y/n suggested, Wheezie nodding enthusiastically at the idea. Being the type of rich the Camerons were, it wasn’t too often they had a meal that wasn’t cooked by a private chef with the finest of ingredients. With a grin, y/n pushed her legs off Rafe's lap and grabbed her purse off the kitchen island. Wheezie got up quickly, taking a step to follow y/n before Rafe grabbed her arm with a groan.

“Help me up.” Rafe complained, as Wheezie rolled her eyes. She tugged at his arm, the boy not moving an inch, a shit eating grin on his face.

“You’re too big, old man.” Wheezie groaned, trying to pull Rafe up again. This time he got to his feet, stumbling dramatically into Wheezie who elbowed him in the ribs. Y/n giggled at the siblings.

“Ok, Wheeze, what’re you thinking?” Y/n asked as Wheezie slid her shoes on. Rafe followed, sliding on his sandals from before.

“I don’t know… what’s easy to make?” Wheezie shrugged.

“Spaghetti?” Y/n asked, quirking her brow.

“Sounds good.” Wheezie grinned, and the three of them made their way down to the market to gather their ingredients.

“Shit!” Rafe swore as he took the garlic bread out of the oven. The one item the responsibility of Rafe charred black, a few of them even smoking as he dropped them on the stovetop. Y/n fanned the bread with a kitchen towel, the two of them coughing at the smoke. The garlic bread was the last part of the meal, the spaghetti and salad already out and Wheezie putting the final touches on the table setting.

“Fuck.” Rafe ran a hand through his hair before resting his hands on his hips. Y/n found herself laughing at Rafe’s complete lack of cooking ability… even when it came to frozen garlic bread.

“Leave me alone.” Rafe grabbing at y/n’s sides. She tried to evade his grasp, squealing with laughter as he caught her and lifted her off the ground. She swatted at his arms, which only caused him to hold onto her tighter.

“The salad is— shit.” Wheezie said as she came into the kitchen, noticing the burnt bread and y/n and Rafe giggling.

“Hey! Language!” The door to the hotel room swung open to reveal Ward. Rafe promptly sat y/n back down on the ground, the smiles on both of their faces evaporating as Ward entered into the hotel followed closely by a very drunk Rose.

“What’s going on?” Ward asked, his eyes glancing over the elegant table setting and dirty kitchen before landing on Rafe.

“We made dinner.” Rafe said simply, y/n trying her best to avoid Ward’s stern gaze.

“We’re in Italy and you made fucking dinner?” Ward scoffed. Y/n’s eyes flicked over to Rafe, who clenched his jaw as he took a deep inhale.

“It was my idea, Mr Cameron. I thought it would be fun.” Y/n said quickly, her eyes finally meeting Ward’s. With a sigh, Ward ran a hand over his face.

“Ok, ok. Just clean it up when you’re done.” Ward muttered before guiding a stumbling Rose through the living room to their bedroom. Wheezie, Rafe, and y/n let out a unified sigh of relief before returning to the task at hand.

“Let’s eat. I’m fuckin starving.” Rafe said before making his way over to the kitchen table. Wheezie had done an exceptional job: the flowers Rafe had gotten y/n arranged in a vase, tapered candles lit, and silverware shining alongside bone colored plates. Rafe pulled a seat out, allowing y/n to sit in front of one of the arrangements before he himself took the seat next to her. Wheezie sat opposite them, grabbing them salad and starting the meal. The conversation was limited as each of them filled up their plates, their hunger more on their minds than social than any particular social etiquette.

“So what are you guys doing for the rest of the week?” Wheezie said, her mouth full of spaghetti. Y/n glanced over at Rafe, who was looking back at her mid bite.

“Well we’re planning on going to the beach on Friday with Sarah and John B but other than that we don’t really have anything planned—” y/n said.

“Actually we do have something planned the last night. Y/n and I.” Rafe said, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding y/n’s quirked brow.

“What?” Y/n whispered, trying to gauge Rafe’s reaction as he continued to focus on his dinner as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Told you this vacation was gonna be full of surprises.” Rafe shrugged, a small smirk as he took another bite of spaghetti.

“Um… ok…” Wheezie’s eyes darted between the two of them, spinning her spaghetti fork absentmindedly.

“So… what do you want to do after dinner?” Y/n cleared her throat.

“Movie?” Wheezie asked.

“Musical?” Y/n added, her lips turning into a smile, Wheezie quickly repeating.

“No–” Rafe started with a groan.

“This is Wheezie’s night, boy. Let her pick.” Y/n shook Rafe’s shoulder playfully, to which he rolled his eyes.

Once the dishes were finally done, which took about twice as long as necessary due to Rafe’s inability to not play in the soapy water, the three of them changed into pajamas and crammed into the living room. The beautiful blue island and sounds of ABBA filled the room, Wheezie and y/n singing along as Mamma Mia played on the TV. Rafe watched the two of them, his heart fluttering at the way y/n’s face glowed in the soft illumination of the TV.

“You’re dancing for this one.” Y/n smiled as “Lay All Your Love on Me” played through the speakers. Rafe cringed as y/n grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. She grabbed his other hand, swinging their hands together as she bounced along playfully. Despite his usual distaste of musicals or dancing, he couldn’t help but smile at y/n’s presence. Getting more into the music, Rafe spun y/n around with a chuckle before pulling her flush against his chest before dipping her dramatically. Y/n squealed before he straightened her back out, her giggles filling the air.

“Wait, wait, let me get my camera!” Wheezie said, scrambling over to the side table and grabbing her little polaroid camera. Rafe wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist as Wheezie held the camera up to her eyes. Rafe lowered his face down, his cheek pressed against y/n’s as the both of them smiled widely. With a flash, Wheezie took a picture, capturing the moment as Rafe’s eyes flicked over to y/n’s face. Wheezie put the camera down, grabbing the polaroid and shaking it out. Rafe and y/n peered over her shoulder, Rafe still holding firmly onto her waist as their faces slowly started to develop.

“Oh wow, Wheeze, this is such a good—” Y/n gasped, taking the picture from Wheezie with a wide smile.

“I’ll be keeping that.” Rafe said, taking the picture from y/n and pulling out his wallet. He flipped the wallet open, quickly tucking the picture alongside the growing collection of polaroids, photobooth strips, movie tickets, and whatever trinket he kept that reminded him of y/n.

“Only letting that go because of whatever surprise you have in store, boy. Better be good.” Y/n said, hitting her hip against Rafe lightly as she quirked her brow.

“I promise you’ll love it.” Rafe said, pressing a quick kiss to the side of y/n’s head before flopping back onto the couch. Y/n shook her head, grinning quickly, before turning back to Wheezie. The two of them continued their singing and dancing late into the night, but Rafe didn’t mind. He could probably watch y/n act like this, practically glowing with joy, for the rest of his life and die a happy man.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Darry's in the kitchen, makin' dinner again since Soda is banned from the stove for the foreseeable future. What compelled the kid to dump half a shaker of pepper into spaghetti, Darry will never know. But he doesn't mind, really. He's got one of their ma's old cookbooks on the counter and is piece mailin' together a casserole both Steve and Two-Bit had raved over last month.

Dallas sits at the table, arms folded and scowlin' hard. Darry had to chase him into the kitchen five separate times before he managed to set the table without driftin' back to the TV to watch a western. Darry's sure they've all seen it three times.

If I go back into that kitchen and those places still aren't set you're gonna be sittin' in there until I'm well 'n done cookin'. Dallas had immediately jumped back up and vanished through the door but Darry was followin' though. Maybe he was a tough hood everywhere else, but inside the Curtis home, he was just another one of Darry's rowdy kid brothers.

To his credit, he hadn't put up too much of a fuss so when he started leanin' to see the movie through the door Darry pretended he didn't notice. He only cleared his throat warningly when he started reachin' fallin' out of his chair levels of tilitin'. Every time Dallas would straighten back up and shoot Darry his meanest glare, proppin' his elbows on the table 'n pickin' at the peelin' paint.

At some point, Pony detangled himself from Soda on the couch and disappeared down the hall, returnin' with a notebook to sit across from Dallas. He glanced up at Darry before he plopped down 'n Darry nodded his approval. Sometimes he'd make them sit alone when they were in trouble, specifically Soda and Two since they were Darry's most rambunctious. Pony would distract Soda but him 'n Dallas enjoyed just sittin' in the quiet. It reminded Darry of how Johnny 'n Pony had been. His heart gives a sharp little ache and he shakes the thought from his head.

Greif had an odd way of sneakin' up on him.

Pony picks up his pencil and Dallas nearly falls out of his chair for how hard he's leanin'. Darry doesn't bother clearin' his throat, just knocks him up the back of his head gently and Dallas scowls hard and leans back.

He's not sure how much time passes, not very long. He finishes the casserole and slides it into the oven to cook. He sighs, listens to Two and Steve as they wrestle in the living room, waitin' to see if they'll knock it off themselves before they break somethin' or not. Apparently, the sigh he lets out it enough for Soda to kick them both in the ribs and they reluctantly separate.

Since Dallas has put up the minimal amount of huffin' 'n moanin' he opts to release him until dinner. Before he can open his mouth he catches a glimpse of a sketch Pony has his nose an inch away from. He's got his brow all furrowed and he's bitin' his lip hard enough to leave marks like he always does when he's focused.

"Holy shit, kiddo." He hadn't meant to comment but even just the edge of the portrait he's workin' on is an utter work of art. Pony jerks up and slams the notebook closed. He always was oddly shy about his work. Darry doesn't push it, he doesn't want Pony to feel like he's pryin'.

Dallas, however, doesn't share Darry's values of privacy. He watches as Steve disappears into his room without askin' 'n thinks maybe none of them do. He rolls his eyes again. Dallas, suddenly payin' attention again, reaches over 'n snatches the notebook out of Pony's hands, openin' it to the page Pony had been workin' in. Whatever smart shit he'd been about to say dies in his throat.

"Holy fuck, Pony." The sketch is nearly finished, clearly set from Pony's view of the kitchen, Dallas framed neatly in the middle, scowlin'. It's so accurate it could have been a photo, one of a spread of Dallas. In all of them, his eyes are bright and angry or dull and aggitated. He's either scowlin' or frownin'. In one particular sketch he's barin' his teeth so his silver one shines lime he does when hes truly hacked off. Darry looks between Dallas 'n the drawin' Pony's just added, notin' how he had lovingly managed to capture the singular fair freckle on Dallas' throat, the way his hair curled against the back of his neck, the set of his eyes as he peered through the door.

When Darry looks back at his kid brother Pony is bright red. Darry snaps out of it first and realizes both he 'n Dallas are just starin' at him.

"Pony, that's amazin'. Really, honey." Pony looks down at the table, still clearly embarrassed.

"It's just a sketch." He scuffs his toe on the tile and runs his hand up his neck in a way Darry knows he picked up from him. "It's not done, yet." Pony wasn't particularly good with praise. He looks up at Dallas who's still just starin' at the page. Dallas runs a finger along the high bones of his face recreated in lead.

"Is... is that how you-"

"Sorry! It's really not that good. I just like to... I dunno... I like to sketch you when you're angry. You just look tuff when you're scowlin' 'n all. That's all. It's not done." He finishes lamely, the flush creepin' down his neck when Dallas doesn't say anythin' else. The silence hangs for a long moment.

"I didn't know I looked like that. When I was mad 'n all." Dallas finally says. He runs a finger over his drawn brow as if he could smooth out the furrow. He shakes his head hard. "Sorry kid, that's tuff as hell. It's a real good drawin'."

Pony ducks his head again 'n Dallas runs the back of his hand over his eyes. "Do you... mind if I keep it?" Pony's eyes go all wide like he wasn't expectin' the question.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. It's you after all." Dallas rips the drawin' carefully out of the book and folds it gently in half, gettin' up and vanishin' down the hall to the room he shares with Pony 'n Soda. He ruffles Pony's hair as he passes, gently squeezin' his shoulder.

The second Dallas is gone Pony drops his forehead to the table. "D'you think I upset him?" Darry presses a kiss to his hair and pats him on the back softly.

"Nah, kiddo. I don't think he's upset." But Darry isn't sure exactly how to read that boy. Not nearly as well as he can read the rest of them. "He just needs a minute."

Dinner is a subdued affair despite Soda and Two's best efforts. As Darry expected, both Two and Steve nearly go to blows over the final servin' 'n only back down once Darry promises to make it again next week. Dallas says next to nothin' which makes Pony squirm around every thirty seconds.

When Two's finished lickin' the bowl, Darry shoos them all out, unsurprised to find Dallas silently startin' to collect up the plates and dump them into the sink. He wasn't like his brother's in that regard. When the other's wanted Darry's attention they would simply ask for it. Dallas refused to bruise his ego. He'd find an excuse to catch Darry as he ran to the grocery store or mowed the lawn or did the dishes. Darry didn't mind waitin' for him to decide to say whatever was on his mind.

"I didn't know the kid saw me as such an... angry person." He dumped another armful of dishes and silently picked up the dish towel as Darry started washin'.

Darry hmm-ed vaguely and handed Dallas a plate. He knew the kid wouldn't listen to him if he denied it, despite knowin' better.

"Pony just likes to capture people's emotions. You remember that time he drew Soda after he'd fallen and broken his wrist? Soda had nearly lost his damn mind at how pathetic he looked in that. He might've jumped Pony if it hadn't been such a good drawin'." Darry chuckles lightly but Dallas just gives a weak smile 'n returns the plate to the cabinet.

"Maybe... yeah." Between the two of them, the sink is empty in fifteen minutes and Dallas disappears down the hall to take a shower. He had a late night chore to run at Buck's, somethin' to do with an upcomin' pony race they had comin' up.

Darry see's Dallas out, extractin' a promise to go straight there 'n back, checkin' to make sure he had his blade though he almost certainly didn't need to. He shoos Two out of his armchair and collapses down, only half payin' attention to whatever's on.

"Darry?" Pony was still bein' more uncharacteristically quiet than usual.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Can I go to bed early?" Darry turns his head to get a good look at the kid. He doesn't think Pony has ever asked to bed early a day in his life. Usually, he was the one fit to be tied every night when Darry tried to get them all to bed.

"Sure honey, all ok?" Pony nods his head and Darry crooks a finger. When he's close enough Darry presses a kiss to his forehead. Pony doesn't fight it and leans into Darry's shoulder for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine. G'night Darry."

"Night, kiddo."

It doesn't take long for the rest of the gang to decide they're tired. Soda crashes on the sofa against Steve's shoulder and Steve hauls him up and dumps him in bed. Two promised his ma he'd go home and Steve swears he'll be fine at his. Darry reluctantly doesn't put up a fight. He drops kisses to both their heads and reminds them the door is always unlocked.

Once the house is nearly empty he straightens up the few things out of place and drags himself to his room for the night. He's a heavy sleeper and he's exhausted enough to fall asleep right there in the hall but his body won't let him even dream of passin' out before all his brothers are home where they're supposed to be.

He counts on Dallas bein' back in an hour give or take and flips on the bedside light. He cracks the book on the nightstand Ponyboy recommended to him months ago. Pony had read it in one afternoon but Darry was draggin' through it five minutes here 'n there when he had the time.

Half an hour later he hears the door to Pony, Dallas, 'n Soda's room creak open but doesn't think much of it. He hears light steps pad down the hall 'n correctly assumes it to be Pony. Seconds later the door opens 'n closes again.

By the alarm clock beside the bed, it's another forty-five minutes before Dallas comes in. The walls are paper thin, so he can distinctly hear Dally kick his shoes off at the door and continue into the kitchen. He pauses there oddly long but Darry doesn't get up to interrupt.

It takes another ten minutes for Darry to hear the kid in the hall. He sniffs hard and Darry recognizes the sound of him rubbin' the back of his sleeve across his face. It breaks his heart but he leaves him be. Of all of them Dallas was the most fiercely protective over his ego and privacy. If it were anyone else, Darry wouldn't let that stop him from comfortin' him. But he knew the kid would get him if he needed it. He figured Dallas could see the light under the door 'n would know Darry was awake if he decided to come in.

Darry waits another fifteen minutes before he gets up to check on them. When he eases open the door Soda is sprawled out in one bed and Dallas is wrapped tightly around Pony in the other. Darry smiles fondly and goes to shut the door before he catches the paper clutched in Dallas' hand.

Darry slinks quietly across the floor to get a better look. He recognizes Pony's careful, controlled pencil markin'. The drawin' is one of his favorite Polaroids of Dallas, his smile wide and uncontrolled. Darry remembers the exact moment it was taken, his hair blown back from his forehead as Soda had taken a turn far too fast for Darry's likin'. Dallas had howled and stuck his whole head out the window and grinned.

Darry smiles fondly at the memory and catches the corner where Pony's written a note in his neat, loopy hand writin'.

I don't see you as angry. I see you as Dallas. My brother. (who just happens to look tuff when he scowls)

[syrma-sensei]

→ Hot Under The Helmet.

gif credit

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: explicit.

warning: ben's pov, horny and angry ben, dom/sub undertones, aggressive sex, piv, fingering, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, glove kink, eventual fluff, antiquated mentality...

word count: 2.2k

summary: fucking his wife is the best way to ease his mind.

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @homosexualferret...

→ masterlist | ao3

Soldier Boy didn't head back to his quarters in Vought's tower when the damned mission was over. He didn't want to spend another minute with his pathetic excuse of a fucking team nor did he want to be in the tower. He scoffed. A bunch of fucking clowns in a fucking circus. Sometimes he wondered if Vought picked them on purpose for the sake of insulting him and his legacy.

Instead, Soldier Boy made his way straight back home. He'd been on duty for a couple of weeks, accompanied with his teammates and other government soldiers as a backup to their mission — not that he needed either but protocols and marketing and Vought's bullshit.

Long story short, and as expected, The Twins fucked up, Noir tried to be the hero of the day, Swatto a fucking idiot, Mind Storm and Gunpowder fucking useless, Countess a fucking bitch. He had to handle it all by himself and fix everything his teammates dicked with. And he was pissed. Fuming. Raging. All he was seeing was red. And he could do nothing about it.

When Vought promised him a team to lead, he expected to have seasoned soldiers who knew how shit was done. Warriors who respected the missions and honoured their duty and privileged their country. Instead, he got fucking spoiled children to babysit. He wasn't in charge. The irony. His fucking helmet of forty years of dedication and service for this country granted him no say at the matter. It was fine, he'd tried to convince himself. He took it upon himself to train them and mould them into formidable soldiers like he was but to no avail. The fucking idiots thought the job was only to wave their hands and pose for fucking cameras at movie premieres!

Soldier Boy grumbled when he stepped inside one of his many properties. The one he shared with his wife. Their penthouse; their home. His pretty, little wife. He let a small smile slip into his lips when a mix of aromatic whiffs permeated his nostrils, his superhuman sense of smell enhanced the savoury scent. His stomach grumbled. Fuck did he really miss his wife's delicious cooking. Suddenly, his fury began to cease. Soldier Boy clicked his helmet off of his head absent-mindedly and set his shield aside before his lips quirked into a wicked grin.

It'd been a fucking fortnight since he saw her. Touched her. Fucked her. He was surrounded by dicks for far too long, and he craved pussy. Her pussy. He was consumed by the urge of destroying her cunt. And she'd love it. She'd always had. She liked it rough. She liked him ruining her, and leaving her unable to sit right for days. And she even dared to chide him when he went easy on her at the beginning of their relationship.

“I'm not fucking fragile, Ben. Don't you hold back.” She'd told him.

He smirked. She had no idea what he had in store for her tonight.

With many many years of experience under his belt, Soldier Boy stealthed his way to the kitchen where his wife was swaying her hips and humming a song as she bent over to check on the ribs she was roasting in the oven. Ben smiled proudly. He never let her do that job. The grilling. It was a man's job, the husband's job. So, to accommodate his wishes, she came up with this idea. To cook that kinda food in other ways. And being the expert cook she was, she did it extraordinarily.

His dulled eyes came to life with a lick of lust swirling within the green of his eyes when he traced the curve of her perfect ass. Fuck, his trousers began to feel too tight to his liking. Little did she know that she had a stirred brute standing behind her, waiting for the right moment to pounce on his prey.

Turning on her heels gracefully, a surprised gasp escaped her throat when her dilated eyes landed on her beloved husband. He was still in his supe gear except for his helmet and shield.

“Ben!” She trilled with a big smile, trying to balance herself from the surprise; he was hours early, “Welcome back, honey! Didn't think you'd be early—”

He cut her off with a burning kiss. Hungry and possessive. How he could cross the kitchen to her in such agility was still behind her. He smelled like earth and dust, blood and sweat. He smelled like a man should. Like a soldier should. Her core throbbed at his virile odour. His stubble grew bigger, and she liked how it brushed coarsely against her palms when she cupped his cheeks to kiss him back. She giggled against his mouth when his strong hands grasped her waist and lifted her up effortlessly and sat her at the countertop.

She clung to his neck, their kiss nourishing with vigour. His lips left hers temporarily to loosen her apron and toss it aside, then he removed her blouse and unclasped her bra. Ben crushed her lips again, his rough-padded hands kneading her tits, thumbs aggressively flicking her hardening nipples. His thumbnails grazing crescents on her darkening areolas. Ben's lips split mischievously when she let a wanton moan. His grin widened when the smell of her arousal reached his nose. Fuck. He loved it. He could already taste that on his tongue.

“Fuck, Ben!” She groaned when one of his hands trailed down to her shorts and slipped beneath her panties. He smirked when she instantly smeared his fingertips wet with her arousal. He let his gloves on; he knew she loved it when his gloved fingers fucked her relentlessly. She liked it when they were knuckles-deep inside of her, with the rims of his fingerless gloves grazing her clit. The little slut. She also liked when he fucked her in his supe suit. She took pleasure in submitting to his power. To him. He was a man worth submitting to after all, and he'd earned hers.

“Hmh, those fourteen days were rough on you, weren't they, baby girl?” He mocked, thick fingers spreading her folds open roughly. He loved to tease her and turn her into a mess. He relished in it.

She nodded hastily. It took a measured press of his thumb on her clit to turn her into putty in his hand. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Sir,” She whined, legs parting wider for him, “They were brutal.” She sobbed, burying her face in his powerful neck when he twisted his finger just right, her ankle snapped. He added another finger and she mewled.

“Ben, Ben! Sir, please!” She shrieked in delight, hands clutching at his gear. She gushed on his fingers and he fucked her through her high. He felt the tremble of legs. He was going to force another one from her. She should have asked for permission. She wasn't in control. He was.

She gasped when he didn't stop, “Ben, please don't—!” She squeezed her thighs shut, an attempt to cease the searing pleasure between her legs. His fingers were raw against her flesh. It brought tears to her eyes.

“Now you want me to stop?” He sneered with a drawl, curling a finger inside, her walls tightened in response. “Your pretty pussy doesn't.”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, before she gazed up at him through half-hooded eyes, moaning, “Don't stop!”

Fuck, that shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Fuck. She was really a slut. His pretty slut. She was practically inviting him to break her. Oh, he would. Deliciously so.

She squealed when he coaxed another orgasm from her. Begging him to fuck her more like a bitch in a heat.

“Holy fuck, baby, your pussy is squeezing my fingers tight!” He chuckled maliciously as he curled his knuckles again then pulled out.

With pearlescent tears adorning her eyes, she took his thumb into her mouth when he pressed it to her lips. Fuck, the way she twirled her tongue around his digit made him half-tempted to fuck her throat. He could do that later. Now, all he wanted was to fuck that needy, slutty pussy raw.

Ben shifted her up and flipped her on her stomach, her hot breasts squeezing against the cold marble. Shoving her shorts and panties down, he took in the sight of her ruined pussy. She was soaking, her arousal oozed from her opening down to her thighs in small rivulets. Unabashedly inviting him to feast on it. And how could he reject such an invitation? In a moment, he was on his knees, mouth wrapped around her slit, sipping from the sweet honey she had to offer. Seemed the act surprised her as she jerked in stupor with a squawk.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her knuckles went white when she grabbed on the edges of the countertop as he ate her out like a man starved.

The new gruff hairs on his face burned deliciously against her skin as his tongue flicked assiduously against her swollen clit. He lapped her heat with a flattened tongue before invading her sensitive drawers, slurping her through the mess of her dew and his spit.

“Ben…I'm cumming again!” She tried to utter, but all that came out of her mouth was a broken whisper.

Smirking again, he unbridled the wonders his tongue could do, and she was undone again; his soddend beard was a proof of what he could do to her.

He licked her clean, and her overstimulated cunt shivered every time his tongue made contact with her flesh. She was trying to catch her breath up there, but he couldn't let her. He wasn't done with her yet. He had yet to be satisfied.

He heard her hum as she turned her face to make eye contact with him. A satiated look in her eyes as she smiled weakly at him.

“Ain't fair tho,” She croaked playfully.

He raised an eyebrow, “Hmm?”

Supporting herself with her arms, she managed to turn her body to face him, eyes immediately perching on the conspicuous bulge between his legs before her teeth dragged her lower lip inside her mouth.

“I'm naked, you're not.” Her hands trailed from his chest down to his zipper.

“Thought you liked me fucking you in this shit.” He drawled thickly as her nimble fingers undid his pants and freed his cock.

“God, you're so hard,” She giggled gleefully, “I do,” Her eyes flitted up to his face, “I like what kinda authority this suit holds. It's like fucking a god.”

His dick twitched painfully at her words. She was so good at this. He liked that about her. How she could tickle and caress his massive ego so easily. How good she made him feel so damn good about himself though he'd never admit that out loud. A god she wanted to fuck, then a god she would fuck.

His large hand roughly seized her jaws, her yelp was swallowed by his mouth. His dick was too eager to feel the warmth and wetness of her cunt as he plunged it inside of her.

“Oh, God!” She sang, her arms encircling his neck as he snapped his hips into her. Her hands fisted his short hair.

“No god, only me.” He groaned.

She cried his name as he bottomed out, he was fucking every ounce of anger out of his system on her. And she liked it. Her walls sucked him deeply, wanting more, and more he gave her.

He grumbled, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He wasn't asking. He was telling.

“Yes, Yes! Please make me a mommy!” Pride sprouted in his chest, and the immense feeling bolted down his spine and made his cock spring his load into her.

He didn't pull out right away, he waited for a few minutes. He didn't want his seed to spill out of her as much as appealing that would be to watch.

“You okay?” He asked her with concern.

“A bit thirsty, but I'm aces,” She blinked, sighing dreamily, “That was fucking sexy by the way.

He chuckled amusedly, reaching for the pot of water next to them and pouring her a glass, “The part you called me a god?”

She rolled her eyes as she gobbled down the water.

He arched his brow before whispering into her ear, “Roll your eyes at me like that again and I won't be letting you cum for a month.”

She choked on the water and he laughed deeply at her reddened face.

Suddenly, he became aware of the burning smell coming from the oven. She picked up on him sniffing and they looked at each other and say in unison, “The ribs!”

Her quiver didn't go unnoticed when he pulled out of her to let her check on the food cooking in the oven while he adjusted his clothes. He appreciated her nakedness in the kitchen, maybe he should ask her to wear nothing but an apron when she cooked. She'd look fucking sexy. His cock twitched at the idea.

His wife groaned in disappointment when she saw the ribs.

“Is it bad?” He asked, crouching next to her.

“It's way crispier than I intended.” A hand pressed to her forehead.

“I can handle crispier.”

“But, Ben, I wanted it to be perfect for you,” She whimpered and he smiled, “I know how much you like it.”

“Well, in your defence, happened when you were pretty busy serving me desserts before the main dish,” He winked.

She shook her head with a smile, “Y'know, you're surprisingly cheeky sometimes.”

“With you, I am.”

[tojisth3rdwife]

⚠️nsfw/mdni⚠️

Just a Thursday Night…

cw: suggestive (for now) you’re in a poly/closed triad with Toji and Shiu. They hate each others guts most of the time but they love the fuck out of you so..common interest i suppose lol

a/n: some fic below smau

Conversations like this were typical between the three of you. Shiu and Toji acting as if they weren’t essentially best friends by default, seeing as how it was difficult for either of them to cultivate any kind of relationship in their line of work. Which was what made the relationship between the three of you work so well. How it all came about? That's probably a complex story for another day. Tonight was going to be simple. Your boyfriends were working late and usually didn't get home until even later. So you were never hard-pressed for time to prepare the evening for them.

It's close to midnight and the house you three shared was warm and cozy, the air colored with the scents of dinner cooking. Foil-wrapped potatoes baked in the oven while two skillets sizzled on the stove. One containing buttery garlic green beans and the other a thick ass porterhouse steak. On the counter, one steak rests at medium well doneness to Shiu’s liking, soon to be joined by Toji’s medium rare.

You were busy searing each side of his steak when the door chimes alerted you that the front door had been opened.

Someone was finally home.

Shiu walks in the house first ,dressed in his suit and tie, blazer tossed over his shoulder. He always smells good as hell. Like expensive leather and mixture of his woodsy cologne and a freshly lit cigarette. Like a grown ass man that works hard just to provide his baby girl with whatever she wants.

He finds you in the kitchen at the stove preparing dinner and steps up behind you to make his presence known. His touch is gentle but firm, skimming over your hips and waist, pressing his front against the curve of your back. His lips find your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple before greeting you with a deep raspy “Hey sweetheart.”. His voice is like the butter sizzling in the pan in front of you and you melt against him, turning your head to give him a proper kiss that he hums into contently with pliant lips.

“Hi baby” you’ll sneak in between kisses that become less and less chaste. You're mindlessly pressing your ass into his crotch, making him grunt sexily and tighten his hold on your waist.

“Dinners almost done” you add, sneaking a lick of his tongue with a smile.

“Mmm..Smells good…” he’ll mutter against your lips, to which you’ll tell him to go get cleaned up so he could enjoy it. He’ll then hum in acknowledgment before pecking your lips a few more times, squeezing your hips and giving your booty a healthy slap before leaving you to it. Toji usually comes in right after him, shedding his coat and sporting dark jeans and a fitted tee. Looking every bit like that bad ass boy next door that your parents forbid you from dating. He greets you in his normal Toji fashion.

You yelp at the sting of the smack he plants on your other ass cheek, but it's soothed under Toji’s hand as he rubs and kneads your plumpness.

“Sup, Mama..” he growls into the curve of your neck, his buff ass arm coming around you and slotting under your chest for a possessive back hug. Toji’s scent is an addictive amalgam of sandalwood, some sort of citrus, and his sweat from the day. Since he rode home in Shiu’s car, accents of smoke were woven into the fibers of gia clothing to mix with his natural fragrance, having its usual effect on you.

He nibbles and teases the skin of your neck until you're giggling and reaching up to tangle your fingers in his messy hair.

“Toji!!” You attempt to squirm away from his lips. A feeble attempt of course. He’s got you locked in place under his bear arm. After seemingly having his fill of nuzzling, Toji lifts his head and the hand resting against your ribs to turn your face towards him for a kiss that already has your head spinning. His tongue tastes of mint and Monster energy drink, which he more than likely chugged on the ride home.

It takes some effort to pull back from him, and he just keeps kissing you. The corner of your mouth. Your cheek. Your jawline. Before he can find his home in the crook of your neck again you have to elbow him in the abs gently to get his attention.

“Youre gonna make me burn the food, Toji. Quit it..” you giggle.

“Just take it off the heat then..I missed you today.” He whines,his lips moving sinuously against your skin. You gasp when his teeth graze your flesh. You were feeling dizzy with desire, your lashes fluttering at the way Toji bit into your neck and sucked hard, earning a barely muffled moan that snaps you back into reality.

“Uh uhn Toj…I gotta finish your steak. Unless you want me to overcook it..” You nudge him gently with your shoulder and he obeys with a grumpy sigh, pulling away reluctantly.

“So? Then I’ll just have to eat you instead..” he grins, his cool-toned gaze blazing into you lustfully. Before you fall into his trap again, Shiu returns to the kitchen. He’s still in his dress shirt, the top few buttons undone as he's yanking at his necktie. He opens the freezer before glancing over at the two of you tangled in a hot embrace at the stove, he sighs and rolls his eyes.

“The least you can do is wash the murder off of your body before you rub yourself all over her…” he scoffs, rummaging in the ice tray for two cubes to drop in the short-cut glass. Toji’s upper lip curls into a snarl as he glares over your head at Shiu, who is now mindlessly opening his liquor cabinet.

“The least you can do is mind your damn business..cock blockn’ ass..” Toji seethes. Shiu's tired gaze returns to Toji while he pours himself a drink.

"So it's cock blocking because Id rather you didn't get some dead man's DNA all over my girl?" he perks his brow, lifting the glass to his lips for a sip. Toji kisses his teeth. " You think I'd be all over MY girl like this without at least changing clothes? I'm not an idiot.."

At that opening, Shiu's brows lift as if he's about to disagree. He merely grunts in response instead, mumbling something snide under his breath as he posts up against the counter with his drink in hand. You didn’t catch it but Toji must have since he was bristling with you still in his possessive embrace.

“Yeah? Wanna repeat that to my face?” he drops the arm that caged you to his chest. His other arm loosens a bit as he steps around you as if he's about to approach Shiu, who of course regards Toji blankly before taking one more sip of his whiskey. When you noticed him turning to set the glass aside, your eyes widened.

"Yall don't start.." you whine, already scrambling to grasp Toji's shirt. It stretches from his torso a little when he tries to move further away from you to close the distance between him and Shiu with a sinister smirk on his face. Shiu smirks back, leaning back up from the counter to face him. There's a silent exchange of colorful language between the two men that you weren't going to let escalate. It was late and you just wanted a peaceful night in with your men. No drama. No bickering.

"OH MY GOD! ALL THIS TESTOSTERONE IN MY KITCHEN!” you blurt out, earning both of their attention. Pointing the spatula you now had in your hand, you aimed it towards Shiu with a glare. He opens his mouth but you shush him.

“Aht! Make that the last drink you get before you eat your dinner, ok? And you..” you pause to crane your neck back enough to look at Toji.

“While I do love the smell of you, if you killed someone tonight I'd prefer it if you cleaned up. Cool?”

Toji glances down at himself with the same type of furrowed brow that Shiu was now sporting when he looked into his glass. "Now I don't wanna hear anymore bitching from either one of you tonight, dammit. Its late and I’m cramping. Dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes, ok? So both of you get out of my kitchen so I can finish cooking please.”

You give them both a look, ensuring that they understand their assignments, spatula waving between them. There is a mixture of surprise and amusement in their expressions, finding your bossiness endearing considering you were the smallest person in the room. The men exchange a seething look of understanding, Shiu being the first to scoff and break eye contact before looking to you.

"Sure thing baby," he remarks warmly, picking up his glass and tossing back what was left in it before putting it back on the counter. He then approaches you, giving Toji a snarky downward scan in passing before leaning in to peck your lips. Toji rolls his eyes and huffs loudly during the affectionate exchange, knowing Shiu was just trying to push his buttons in the little ways he could without you knowing.

When he pulls away, you lick the remnants of whiskey he left on your lips with a smirk.

" Mmmhmm. Out." you wrinkle your nose at him, pushing him away playfully as he steps between you and Toji to exit the kitchen.

Leaving you with your broodiest boyfriend.

Toji was biting the inside of his cheek and watching Shiu leave with narrowed eyes, looking like he was plotting something devious when you poked him in the pec. His glare drops to you, softening a little on the way your siren eyes were drawing him in. With a lift of your brow, Toji relents.

"What?" he frowns and you smile at him sweetly, reaching up to run your thumb over the scarred corner of his mouth before speaking.

"You too, big boy. Go wash ya ass. And don't kill Shiu on your way back there please." you nod your head in the kitchen doorway's direction. At that, Toji grunts humorously as he kisses your thumb, then your forehead.

"Only 'cuz you said please.." he grumbles before trudging out of the kitchen somewhat begrudgingly.

You maintained that stone-cold expression while you admired that muscular ass back on his way out, waiting until you were alone to allow that facade to break immediately in favor of you being utterly hot and bothered.

It wasn't always like this but you swore one day things would come to blows between those two if you weren't always there to intervene. There was no reason for them to still be this competitive when it came to you. There was a clear understanding between you three that you were theirs equally and vice verse. But you had to admit that it was annoyingly sexy to see them still fussing over you though. Or maybe it was just because you were ovulating.

Either way, you were sure to be in for another long night with these two…

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back to work but still hurting.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’re grateful only for the reprieve of Sy’s shower. He spends at least an hour in the bathroom but it’s not nearly enough time to figure this out. He’s not going anywhere and you have no way of changing that. And with how things are going, it won’t be long before you’re entirely trapped with him. 

The helplessness suffocates you. You slowly get up, needing to do something, anything to keep your thoughts from spiralling further. Or him. 

You go to the kitchen and pull out some chicken. Even with your recent shop, what you have won’t last. Not with two people. You marinate the tender breast as you pull out the jasmine rice and your mini rice cooker. Everything you have is built for one, it’s another reminder that he’s invaded your life. 

The bathroom door opens and you stay hidden in the kitchen. It’s only as he calls your name that you poke your head out. You don’t want him to think you’ve tried to escape again. Imagine that, escaping your own life. 

“Here,” you squeak and your mouth hangs open. He stands in only a towel. It’s low enough that the trail of hair along his stomach grows thicker just above the knot. Your lashes flick and you cough, “just starting dinner. Jerk chicken and... and rice.” 

“Sounds delicious,” he grins and runs his fingers through his beard. “Much better than field rations, eh, Aika?” 

He whistles at the dog and she perks her ears up. Sy sighs and drops his arms, smiling at you dreamily. Your eyes wander to the scars all over his body; a thick raised one along his ribs and smaller ones flecked along his shoulder and a line on his lower stomach. 

“I’ll get dressed,” he rubs his hands together, “can’t be eatin’ in my towel, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, I... I’ll be in here.” 

You go back into the kitchen and stare at the rice maker. You see the reflection of his scarred mind in his body. Again you can’t help the rent in your heart. That sympathy that underlines your fear. He’s a tortured soul but not one you can soothe. You don't know where to begin. 

You put the chicken in the oven and set the rice to cook. Next you look for a veggie. Broccoli. Standard. You’ll add a bit of seasoning. You’re not very hungry, even as the aromas rise in the air. 

“God, it’s hot in here,” Sy growls as he appears in the doorway that opens to the dining space.  

“It’s the oven,” you say as rinse the head of broccoli, “sorry.” 

“Ah, you know, it’s not half so bad as the desert,” he chuckles, “Aika knows. The way the sand gets all in your mouth and—and everywhere else.” 

“I can’t imagine,” you murmur, “wouldn’t be a day at the beach, I’m sure.” 

“Mm, no,” he agrees as he leans on the wall, “not a bad idea. I could take ya down for a beach day. We could get some good pictures. A few videos.” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” you focus on your task. You put the broccoli on the cutting board and pull out a knife. 

“You want me to get that, sweetie? Don’t wanna cut yourself now,” he pushes away from the wall. 

“No, I got it,” you line up the knife and chop the head in half. He winces. 

“It’s dangerous, you got a smaller one?” 

“Really, Sy, I’m fine,” you insist as he looms closer, “let me just get dinner ready and you can sit--” you hiss as you pull your finger back at the sudden slip. 

“I told ya,” he accuses as he grabs your hand and examines it. His grip is iron and you don’t resist. There’s no blood. 

“It was just my nail,” you wiggle the top of your finger, “please--” 

“Let me do it,” he insists and reaches for your other hand, “give me the knife, sweetie.” 

You hesitate but hand it over. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous about it. Still, there’s no sense fighting over sharp objects. 

“We gotta work together, don’t we?” He says as he chops.  

“Sure,” you agree thinly. 

You turn to get a sheet pan for the broccoli. You’ll dress in oil and some spices, maybe a bit of lemon juice. As you lay parchment paper over it, he drops the knife in the sink. 

He remains, crowding you as he watches you work. You spread out the little branches and drizzle them over. You put them in beside the chicken and rinse off your hands. You dry off and glance over at Sy. He's watching you. 

“You really don’t have to stay out here,” you say. 

“I like being around you,” he grins, “still can’t believe it’s real.” 

Me neither, you think. 

“Well, all that’s left is the waiting,” you set a timer, “so...” 

“Ah, well, s’pose we can do that on the couch.” 

“Oh, well, I was gonna get the laundry together,” you say, the excuse popping up spontaneously. 

“Why don’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?” 

“Right, uh, I wanted to get it done. I need to get back to my commissions tomorrow.” 

“Mmm,” he hums flatly, “you work too hard.” 

You withhold a mean thought. He hasn’t mentioned work since he showed up. What about that desk he was talking about? You know better than to challenge him. You’ll keep the peace as long as you have to. Get through dinner then worry about the real test; bedtime. 

“Alright, let’s sit,” you relent and reach for his large hand.  

It’s not an affectionate gesture, merely appeasing. You can still hear his voice booming and the thump his skull made on the wall. Not to mention the state of his face and the dent in your wall. You can’t forget what he’s capable of. You can’t deny that you’re lucky he only hurt himself. 

He lets you guide him out of the kitchen and you try not to show your reticence. You won’t think of what happened on the couch last time. Besides, you can’t leave the food to burn. 

💗

You eat at the table. It’s an excuse for some space. As you waited for the timer to save you, you were trapped in his embrace. His constant touching and cooing. You should be flattered when someone tells you you’re pretty and perfect but he just makes you want to combust. 

You can hardly stay still. You clear the table and tidy up what mess is left in the kitchen. You can hear him prowling in the other room. You wipe down the table and peek up as he stops to watch you. 

“Almost done?” He asks. 

“Sure, uh, I’ll finish and get washed up for the night.” 

“Washed up?” He echoes. 

“Brush my teeth, wash my face, all that,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” 

“What about Aika? She need to go out?” 

He stops and looks at the dog, still laying at the door. 

“She should,” he intones grimly, “I’ll take her then.” 

He disappears into the bedroom as you let out a breath. It’s not much. You know you’re just putting off the inevitable. He reemerges with the jangle of keys and you see your phone case peeking out of a pocket in his cargo shorts. He might seem scattered but there’s something about him that assures you he’s just as calculated. 

“I’ll be back,” he assures and stops just by the door, “sure you don’t wanna come with us?” 

You rinse off the cloth and shake it out. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You should come...” he mumbles. 

“Sy,” you go to the doorway parallel to the apartment door, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.” 

You have nowhere to go. 

He stares at you. His looks pale and drawn. He cracks his neck as he tilts his head one way then the other. He lets out a long exhale as he sets his head straight and he steps closer. Aika stands, her paws scuffing on the hardwood. You gulp as he makes himself bigger and glares down at you. 

“I know you won’t,” he says quietly, “because you know I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t you, sweetie?” 

You bat your lashes and gulp. You nod, “yes, captain.” 

His lips curve and he reaches to grab you, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “good girl. Get nice and fresh for me.” 

He lets you go with a growl and you stand frozen between the counters. Aika watches him with her doleful eyes as he steps into his boots. He opens the door and points her out, not bothering to take the leash with him. She looks at you, wiggling her nose, before she goes. 

The door snaps shut behind Sy and jolt you. You can’t shake the grit in his voice. The subliminal threats laced into his proclamation of devotion. He found you and he’ll find you again, so why bother trying to run? 

You shut off the kitchen light and flit into the bedroom. You gather up a set of pajamas. A white tee and short pairing with little sliced oranges stamped into the fabric. You lock yourself in the bathroom and face yourself in the mirror. You look just as afraid as you feel. 

You lay out the pajamas to one side of the sink and put on the fluffy headband that keeps your hair out of the way. You start your usual routine, the familiarity the only comfort you have left. Brushing flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and toning. It’s the little things you started to make yourself feel better but they just aren’t working this time. 

You hear him return as you button up the pajama top. You stare at the door with dread and gather up your shirt and skirt, along with your panties and bra. You teeter on the balls of your feet, trying to find whatever you might call courage. He gets there first. 

The knock makes you jump. You quickly go to the door and flip back the lock. He opens the door from the other side before you can. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you answer dumbly as you hug your armful of clothes. 

“Oh, you look... nice. Refreshed.” 

“Um, yeah,” you say as you waver. There’s no room to get around him. 

He steps back and waves you out. You carry the clothing into the bedroom to dump in the hamper and turn to find him looming in the doorway. Great. 

“You smell good,” he purrs as he peels off his shirt. 

“Did you lock the door?” You ask. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got me here to take care of ya,” he scoffs and hurls the shirt so it just barely clings to the side of the hamper. “Those are some cute jammies.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you look down and pinch the sides of the shorts. 

“Long day,” he stretches and drops his arms, unbuttoning his shorts shamelessly. 

���Yep,” you agree, “be nice to sleep.” 

You go to the edge of the bed and slip beneath the duvet. You tuck your chin down as you hug yourself beneath the fluffy cover and keep your back to him. He flips the light off and you nearly whimper. The bed dips behind you and cool air flows under the blanket as he climbs in behind you. 

You’re not surprised when he swathes you in his thick arm. He pulls you against him, his furry chest flush to you as he purrs. You grasp his forearm and squirm as his heat surrounds you. He nuzzles your hair and plumes hot breath over your scalp. 

“Ain’t this nice? I could spend every night like this,” he growls as he keeps you curled up in one arm as his other hand trails down your side. “Never slept much over in the s—over there.” 

You squeak and stare into the static darkness. You tremble and force out a yawn. Maybe he’ll get the hint. For once. 

“I’m tired too, sweetie,” he toys with the bottom button on your shirt, “I know I’ll sleep all nice and cozy with you.”  

His fingers tickle your lower stomach and crawl beneath the cotton. You go rigid as he creeps up your soft flesh and you latch onto him as you try to stop him. He presses his lips to your crown. 

“Don’t be bad,” he warns in a gristle. 

You let him go with a babble. He brings his hand to cover one side of your chest. He squeezes and lets out a raspy groan. He rolls his hips and you feel he’s in need again. You close your eyes and brace yourself. It’s worse than the couch. You’ve laid yourself down in his trap. 

“You’re so soft, sweetie,” he fondles you, swirling his rough fingertips around your nipple, “so warm...” he inhales your scent and snarls, “you got me hurtin’ so bad.” 

[ilovecatilinclark]

Sweetheart

Diana Taurasi x Reader

Based of this request!

Hope you guys like this!

You were one of the players for the Phoenix mercury, you would always bake or make a small treat for the team. Often before games and practice till one day you decided to invite the team to your house. As a way to celebrate the home win and to spend some time to watch a movie. As everyone agreed you quickly ran to the grocery store and bought many items to create the dinner you planned. As you came back home you started organizing the ingredients till you hear a knock.

It was BG and Rebecca as you let them in you continue preparing the meal. Till more of your teammates come in, as you start cooking you were planning to cook some ribs and some extra sides. As you soon here a commotion in your living room you try to tune it out. But as hard as you try you hear a familiar voice from Natasha Cloud saying "Nah D you really gonna help her you for real down bad" she said loudly. As they were chuckling you decided to block it out. As Diana soon walks over to the kitchen.

As you were starting on the mashed potatoes you felt some hands on your shoulder. "Need some help dear" she said slyly, you couldn't help but blush from Diana. As you gathered your composure you quickly replied "Uh no I'm fine" you said back to her trying to not show you face to her. "I can tell you need help babe" she said chuckling as she watches you struggling trying to cut the potatoes.

As you finally sighed, you replied "Maybe I need some help, can you help me cut these potatoes darling" you flirted back felling her warm up a bit as she takes the knife from you and starts cutting. As she finishes she washes her hand and holds your waist to move you a bit over to grab the paper towel you couldn't help but blush from the act. As she finishes she ask you what else she could do you reply but helping you start on the cookies. Before you grab the ingredients you finish with your sauce for the ribs you quickly wash your hands and going to start looking ingredients.

As you grab the items she preheats the oven, soon you start pouring the ingredients for the cookie as you get some of the flour on your nose. As she soon laughs and grabs you chin soon wiping the flour off your nose while she starts wiping it some of your team walks in. About to check how you were doing as they catch you guys being super close. Until BG decides to interrupt "YOO IS THE FOOD DONE IT SMELLS HELLA GOOD" as you quickly turn around distancing yourself from Diana. "Oh shit sorry to ruin your couple moment" she says as she smiles as you blush nervously from her comment.

As you and her continue to make the cookie you feel a awkward tension trying to not talk about what had just happened. As soon as you guys finish she starts setting up the table. Soon later as you were serving you soon realize the only open seat was next to Diana. As you awkwardly sit next to her you hear her whisper in your ear. "The food is good but do you know what would be better. "what" you replied back "you and I being together" as you tried to hide your blushing face you feel her hand soon interlacing her hand with yours under the table. Soon after dinner everyone agreed and decided on a movie while everyone was in the living room you were in the kitchen preparing some popcorn.

While as Diana was in the kitchen she knew she would not be able to hear the end of it from her teammates with her helping you. Especially her and you when you guys were making cookies and you got flour on your nose. As you soon came in the whole team stopped teasing her and started getting ready for the movie as you handed the bowl. As you were laying on the couch she took a seat next to you. As it started becoming a bit more cold and the rest of the team took your blanket. As you were shivering a bit, you felt her arms wrap around you and bring you closer to her. Keeping you warm as you guys were cuddling your teammates started taking photos of you.

As the movie ended and you went to wash the dishes while playing a little bit of games with your teammates. The night started getting dark and more of your teammates started leaving. As Diana was the last one you were about to say goodbye until she grabbed your face and kissed you. "call me later sweetheart goodnight" she said as she winked walking to her car.

AN: Also sorry if there is not enough flirting

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Comfort Zone

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Sirius Black x James Potter x Remus Lupin x Reader, Marauders x Reader

Characters:  Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2751

Summary: You and the boys go out of your comfort zone.

Tags/Warnings: PolyMarauders, Marauders, F/M/M/M, Post Hogwarts, Maraduers Era, Poly, Kissing, Angst, Fluff, Arguing

Notes: I am trying to get the other evans girl finished but the ideas wont stop and I have no self control x

MASTERLISTS // TAG LIST

‘You know he’s going to say no right?’ Remus said, watching you as you pulled the pie from the oven and placed it on counter top. James looked up from where he was lounging on the sofa, laughing as you scowled.

‘You don’t know that,’ you countered, moving to grab the potatoes that were near spilling over.

‘I know Padfoot,’ Remus said, placing his book down. 

‘We all know Padfoot Moony,’ James said rolling his eyes before he clambered out of his seat and came towards you, his hand dancing along your waist as he watched you cook.

’Exactly,’ you said, ‘and I know that he can be persuaded.’

‘What by a good meal,’ Remus said with a raised eyebrow, coming towards you too, resting his elbows on the counter as he eyed the pair of you. 

‘By a good meal and dessert,’ you mused. James chuckled, ‘she might have a point there.’

‘All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up,’ Remus said softly watching as your face fell in a frown, not relieved by James touch as he kissed your temple. 

‘Moonys right sweetheart,’ James said softly. You looked at him, worried that the hopes you’d pinned on this might’ve been in vain.

‘It’ll be fine,’ you said unsure who you were trying to convince, ‘I’ll make a good case for it you know me.’

The boys shared a look as you busied yourself obliviously thinking over the game plan as you finished dinner. You were just finishing up dolloping mash potatoes onto each of their plates when the fire in the living room glowed green, Sirius stepping out not a moment later. 

‘Hey,’ he said, shrugging his leather jacket off and coming towards you, placing a kiss on your temple as he said, ‘something smells good.’

‘I made your favourite,’ you said, gesturing to the steak and ale pie on the counter top, ‘pop it on the table will you. Dinner will only be a minute.’

‘How about that for service eh Pads?’ James ribbed, taking his seat at the table as did Remus with Sirius joining a moment later, placing the pie in the centre. 

‘Can’t complain,’ he mused as you placed their plates down, dropping into a seat yourself as Remus started to dish out the pie you’d made. 

It was quite the squeeze, your tiny kitchen feeling even tinier with the four of you around the table, but you loved it like this. It hadn’t been the plan of course; James and Sirius had moved in once leaving school and as your relationship developed you and Remus had sort of never left but you wouldn’t trade it. Even if it meant you had to run your wants and needs by everyone you loved, something you were building up to ask about but as Sirius looked at you your nerve went and instead you said ‘so how was work?’

‘Fine,’ Sirius said, ‘got a good case today.’

‘Yeah?’ you asked.

‘Yeah apparently there’s been quite a few dragon eggs smuggled into the country. Don’t know where from yet of course but should be interesting.’

‘That is interesting,’ you said, trying to figure out how to steer the conversation back around.

‘What about you?’ Sirius asked, taking a bit of pie. 

‘Oh you know not much,’ you shrugged, ‘got the flat tidy.’

‘Just you?’ Sirius said looking at James who hadn’t been paying attention until then but glared at the inference. 

‘It’s my day off,’ James protested. 

‘Your day to be a lazy git,’ Sirius teased and though you knew he was joking there was an edge to it that you frowned at especially when James pretended to shrug it off. It was funny to you how your roles within this little thing could be defined so quickly. How even though Sirius had no more a claim over you than the others he was still so certain to make sure you weren’t being taken advantage of, the one you turned to when you needed help. How James was your relief, the one who kept your spirits up, who made you laugh even if he couldn’t make a bed or pick up a pair of socks to save his life. And Remus was the one you shared your worries with. The one who made you feel heard and seen in a house full of boys.  

‘Rem helped when he got back,’ you said reassuringly. 

‘See,’ James said,’ besides I thought you wanted practice looking after something I’m just giving you opportunity.’

‘Why would she want that?’ Sirius asked confused. 

‘No reason,’ you said far too quickly to ever be casual. You’d been gearing up to ask but seeing the conversation teetering on a row you’d decided to postpone until James opened his big mouth. Sirius’ eyes narrowed.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ you lied, ‘I mean I don’t know what he’s on about.’

‘Sweetheart,’ Sirius said, his voice low and daring. You looked to James and Remus to find them interested in their meals, no help to you even as Sirius said, ‘alright what’s going on?’

‘Well,’ you said nervously, ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Why what’s wrong?’ Sirius asked worriedly.

‘Nothing bad,’ you said placing your hand on his reassuringly.

‘Jesus mate lighten up,’ James teased. Sirius rolled his eyes but elected to ignore him, his gaze falling on you as he said, ‘what is it love?’

‘It’s just well I’ve been thinking,’ you said.

‘What about?’ Sirius asked.

‘Well about us,’ you said bashfully, ‘about this little thing we’ve got going on.’

‘Right,’ Sirius said dubiously.

‘And I was just thinking that it might be nice if we expanded a little,’ you said meekly.

‘Expanded?’ he asked, thoughts whizzing visibly behind his eyes. 

‘Yeah,’ you said. 

‘Like someone else?’ Sirius asked glancing at James and Remus before back at you. 

‘No, no of course not. I don’t want anyone else but you lot you know that,’ you said, squeezing his hand. That appeared to trigger something as he said, ‘you’re pregnant?’

‘What?’ you and James baulked, with Remus inhaling a piece of broccoli at the same time which made him cough and splutter as you protested, ‘no of course not!’

‘Well what else could it be?’ Sirius protested, glancing at Remus to make sure he was okay before his eyes went back to you.

‘Not that Jesus,’ James huffed, thumping a still watery eyed Remus on the back to help dislodge the issue. 

‘Well excuse me for jumping to conclusions when you’re obviously all in on whatever this is,’ Sirius said irritably, gesturing between the three of you.

‘That’s cos we won’t say no,’ James countered.

‘I never said yes,’ Remus said, his voice still weak as he glugged down a drink of water.

‘Yes to?’ Sirius asked.

‘I want a kitten,’ you said quickly realising there was no point beating around the bush anymore given the anarchy that had already been caused. 

‘What?’ Sirius asked as if he hadn’t heard you.

‘A kitten,’ you reiterated, ‘I was thinking about it and don’t you think a little-’

‘No,’ Sirius said flatly.

‘But-’ you protested but he waved you off stating, ‘you know I hate cats.’

‘You don’t know that,’ you said.

‘Yes I do,’ he said firmly.

‘How do you know?’ you pressed, ‘I mean you might do.’

‘I don’t,’ Sirius said, his tone challenging you not to talk back to him. As if this was the end of the discussion, but you weren’t done.

‘You don’t know that you just think you do because-’

‘He’s a dog?’ James finished.

‘Because you’ve never been around them!’ you corrected, ‘but I think it’ll be really good-’

‘What to have it scratching everything up and shitting in a box in the corner?’ Sirius scoffed.

‘We can let it go outside,’ you offered.

‘In the middle of a city yeah right,’ he said shaking his head. 

‘Oh Pads please,’ you begged.

‘I said no,’ Sirius said firmly.

‘Oh go on mate,’ James sighed. Sirius glowered at him, as he started, ‘just because you’re bendable to whatever she wants-’

‘Because I want her to be happy,’ James challenged.

‘Because you like pissing me off and being her favourite,’ Sirius said making James scowl. 

‘Pads please,’ you pleaded. 

‘I said no,’ he said pulling his hand out from under yours as he started to eat again. Irritated you looked away from him, looking to Remus who’s remained quiet even though he had been watching.

‘Please Rem?’ you asked.

‘I don’t know love,’ he said.

‘Come on majority rules. James said yes-’

‘James would say yes to anything that would get your top off,’ Sirius muttered.

‘And you wouldn’t?’ James scoffed; Sirius’ digs seemingly having gone too far to be just light hearted teasing. A sentiment that was confirmed as Remus, the nominated peacemaker, said, ‘lads stop it.’

Unfortunately he hadn’t said anything about you and so you looked to Sirius and challenged him, ‘okay what about a baby then?’

‘What?’ Sirius gawped.

‘See kitten isn’t as mad as that,’ you challenged.

‘She’s got a point,’ James said, making you smile smugly that you still had him on side.

‘She doesn’t have any point she’s being ridiculous!’ Sirius snapped.

‘I’m being ridiculous? You’re the one who won’t even hear me out I mean did you even wonder why I want one?’ you challenged. As the boys looked at you silently you continued, ‘I want a kitten because I want something for me. Something that’s just mine that I don’t have to share with anyone. Now I’m not saying I hate what we have going I love you all you know that. I just like our little home; I think we make it really lovely and you take such good care of me I just want something to love besides you three.’

All three of them remained silent, staring at you. When none of them spoke the weight of your words started hitting you, your vulnerability and longing now feeling more like a weakness rather than strength, as if you were in the middle of the ocean surrounded by three sharks. 

‘Fine,’ you huffed as your embarrassment caught the better of you, slamming your fork down and standing up.

‘Oh come on don’t get in a strop,’ Sirius scoffed, throwing his own utensils down.

‘Babe come on,’ James said tugging at your sleeve though you yanked it from his grip.

‘Pads is right let’s not fall out over something silly,’ Remus said, and though his was the nicest tone of the three of them it was that which made you see red.

‘Oh so I’m being silly now?’ you snapped, ‘when you won’t even contemplate doing something a little out of your comfort zone.’ 

‘You know I don’t like them,’ Sirius reasoned weakly.

‘Yeah you’ve made that clear I just thought I’d mean enough to try something you don’t like,’ you said curtly, throwing him a glare as you added, ‘I mean haven’t we all gone out of our comfort zone.’

‘That’s not the same,’ Sirius scoffed.

‘Isn’t it?’ you challenged.

‘You know it isn’t,’ he replied darkly. 

‘Feels like it’s one rule for the boys one for me,’ you said firmly. 

‘Babe you it’s not like that you know it’s not,’ James said softly. Sirius however didn’t seem to be caving, his jaw clenched at the accusation. 

‘Look,’ he started.

‘You know what forget it,’ you snapped, pulling away from the table and slamming your chair under it no doubt knocking a couple of knees as you did not that anyone complained. In fact the other boys looked worried, Remus especially as he said, ‘aren’t you going to eat your dinner?’

 ‘I’m not hungry,’ you lied, storming off to your bedroom, the door slamming behind you.

As James and Remus looked towards Sirius they found him on his feet too, grabbing his coat from where he’d hung it and shrugging it on. 

‘Mate come on,’ Remus grumbled. Sirius ignored him, heading to the fireplace.

‘Where are you going?’ James asked, turning so that he could see him.

‘Out,’ Sirius said and before they could protest he disappeared through green flame. 

✵✵✵

‘I still don’t think they’re good together,’ James said, his voice rumbling against your belly where his head was resting, your fingers running through his messy locks soothingly.

‘I don’t mind them,’ you said, trying not to giggle and tease him about the fact he’d maintained he had no interest in watching the soap you were currently watching.

‘Hmm,’ he muttered neither in agreement nor rebuttal. 

Before you could say anything though the door clicked open, making him lift his head from your stomach, and Sirius appeared in the doorway. Though James had been on your side, telling you how he agreed Sirius was being unreasonable he straightened up, no doubt aiming to be peacemaker as he said, ‘hey mate.’

‘Hey,’ Sirius said hesitantly, frowning as you refused to look in his direction. Nevertheless he cleared his throat and continued, ‘can I borrow you for a minute?’

‘Uh yeah sure,’ James said scrambling off you though as Sirius threw him a look James said, ‘oh you don’t mean me.’

You glanced their way for a fraction of a second before turning your attention back to the screen, thankful neither of them saw it. Sirius sighed and leant on the door frame, ‘are you still not talking to me?’

‘Are you still being selfish?’ you replied, your eyes still ahead, arms folded across your chest.

‘Guys,’ James sighed.

‘No actually,’ Sirius said cutting him off and earning a scoff from you. With a sigh he walked forward towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of it as he said, ‘would you just come into the living room? Please?’

You watched him for a moment, his grey eyes pleading with you in a way that made your heart thump. It was enough to make you let your guard down as you sighed and said, ‘fine.’ 

He climbed up before you heading to the door with you and James following him out into the living room. You were still miffed at him but more annoyed at yourself for being so malleable when it came to any of them playing on your heart strings. 

‘Now I understand if you don’t like it but there wasn’t much I could do at this time of night,’ Sirius said, turning to face you. Your gaze skimmed the living room, clocking Remus who was sitting on the couch but nothing that gave you any clues as to what he was talking about. As he watched you his face grew nervous.

‘Well?’ he asked, still you weren’t sure but before you could ask him what the hell he was on about you heard a little mewling chirp. Your eyes immediately flew in the direction of the noise where you found a tiny kitten trotting around on Remus’ lap, tiny claws clinging from his jumper as it threw itself about.

‘Oh my god!’ you squealed, racing forward to scoop the tiny little thing off of Remus’ lap. It wriggled about in your arms as you fawned over it.

‘Hi sweetheart, oh my god, hi, hi,’ you cooed, cuddling it to you, ‘oh my god aren’t you cute!’

‘It’s a good job he is otherwise he’d be long gone given how many times he’s scratched me on the way over here,’ Sirius grumbled, making you look up from your fit of fawning.

‘Aw sweetie do you not like the big doggy,’ you teased, earning a mew from the tiny black kitten in your arms. 

‘And yet he’s been awful fond of the big bad wolf,’ Sirius joked earning a chuckle from you all. You smiled and decanted the kitten into Remus’ arms so that you could go to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he held you to him, a smirk playing on his lips.  That was also the beauty of your relationship, whenever you did argue or disagree about something it never lasted long.

‘Hi,’ he said, moving a strand of hair from your face.

‘Hi,’ you replied.

‘Did I do alright?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘Sirius this is amazing,’ you whispered, ‘thank you so much.’

‘Yeah well it’s good to get out your comfort zone I suppose,’ he shrugged. 

‘You might be right,’ you said, leaning in to kiss him tenderly, ‘are you sure we just want one?’

‘Don’t push it,’ he mumbled into your lips. 

SIRIUS BLACK TAGS

@caitlin1996

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Of toppings and fillings

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Dessert

Rated: M

Tags: Established relationship; Idiots in love; Competitive idiots, to be more specific; Sexually explicit language; Sexual innuendo; Eddie is a little shit

It starts out innocently enough. Steve is lounging on the couch, Eddie sprawled on top of him. On the television, some home-making show is running, but Steve has dropped into a pleasant doze and isn't really paying attention. 

Until Eddie says, “Man, I could go for some of that right now.” 

Steve blinks at the screen.

“And there it is,” chirps the host. “Crispy meringue with that juicy filling underneath, which is the perfect mix of sweet and tart. With this delicious dessert, your family will-” 

Steve huffs. “It probably isn't half as good as my nonna's recipe. Her pies were the best.”

“Hah!” Eddie exclaims, propping himself up and ignoring the pained groan when his elbows dig into Steve’s ribs. “That only shows you never tried my granny’s baking.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Steve wheezes. He tries to shove Eddie away, only he’ll have none of it, and within seconds, things escalate into a full-on wrestling match. “Are you trying to insult my nonna’s baking?” 

“My granny’s baking,” Eddie purrs, pinning Steve’s wrists over his head. His breath fans over Steve's face, soft and warm. “Would fuck your nonna’s baking against the kitchen counter like a little bitch, and your nonna’s baking would enjoy it.” 

Steve sputters. Eddie smirks. 

Steve feels his teeth grit. 

“Oh yeah?” Prove it, Munson.” 

*

“Okay,” says Robin. “Walk me through this again. He shit-talked your nonna, so you made a bet on whose recipe was better? You’re supposed to whisk it, dingus.” 

Steve groans. His wrist is hurting. There’s dough stuck in his hair. “Yes, Robin, for the fifth time. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“Why is it so hard to understand the difference between whisking and stirring?” she snaps, making to snatch the bowl from his hands.

“Hey,” Dustin bellows. He’s standing next to Eddie, who is furiously attacking his own bowl with the hand mixer, bits of filling spraying in all directions. “No cheating, he’s supposed to do it alone.”

“Cut him some slack, Henderson,” Eddie says, tossing a grin in Steve’s direction. “It’s hard, getting a proper filling all on your own.” 

Robin slouches back against the counter, hiding her scowl behind nonna’s cookbook.

“It seems a bit excessive is all I'm saying. You could’ve bet for money, like normal people? How am I ever supposed to eat anything from your kitchen again, knowing that you’ve been on your knees in here, scrubbing dough off the floor, clad in nothing but a frilly apron, have you thought about that? It’s unhygienic, Steve!” 

“Jesus, shut up,” Steve hisses, throwing a frantic look at Dustin. Luckily, he’s busy shouting at Eddie about tempering the eggs, whatever that means. “And for the record, I’m not losing this. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was ten years old, while Eddie … I’ve seen him burn SphaghettiOs, Rob. There’s no way!” 

“Cooking is different from baking, though,” she says. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. Say, is it supposed to look like scrambled eggs?” 

“Whoops,” Eddie says, knocking a bag of flour off the counter with his elbow. “Leave it, Henderson. I’m sure Steve won’t mind cleaning it up later.” 

Steve growls, throwing his whisk down so hard it bounces off the counter and hits the nearest wall.

“C’mon, let’s get this thing in the oven.” 

*

“Esteemed jury,” Eddie declares, setting his pie down next to Steve’s. “This is it, the moment of truth. Two pies have entered into this contest, but only one shall emerge victorious, forever determining who-” 

“Quit it,” Steve says. “Or are you scared to admit defeat? Your topping is as flat as your ass.”

He nods down at their creations. The perfect golden tufts of meringue crowning his own, and the unimpressive, brown crust on Eddie’s.

Eddie grins. “Why don’t you leave your verdict on my topping skills for later, big boy?” 

The kids, who’ve been following the exchange with swiveling heads, frown. 

“Are you still talking about pie?” El asks. “It doesn’t seem like you’re still talking about-”

Robin sighs. “Just cut them and get this over with.” 

Steve nods, grabbing one of the knives from her hand while Eddie takes the second. 

“Look at this and weep, Munson,” he says, cutting a slice and lifting it out of the pan for everyone to see. “Perfect, homemade lemon meringue pie. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, just as it should-” 

The topping slides off. A chorus of ooofs goes through the spectators.

“Erm, that’s okay,” Steve says. “I’m sure it still tastes fine, it's just-” 

The filling dissolves into a puddle. It lands next to the soggy pile of topping with a wet squelch. The ooofs turn into eeews. Robin cringes. 

“Yeah, no offense, dingus, but I’m not eating that. Gives me icky mouth feels just looking at it.” 

It’s Will’s voice that makes them both turn around.

“Oh, wow! That looks delicious, Eddie!” 

“Thank you,” Eddie says as the kids scramble to hold their plates out to him. With a large smile in Steve’s direction, he hands a particularly large slice to Will. A perfectly shaped slice of bright yellow pie with a beautiful, firm topping of meringue on top. It’s snowy white under the brown crust. 

Steve drops the knife. 

“But I don’t- …” he mutters, sinking down into a chair with wobbly legs. “How did you- … You don’t even know how to cook!” 

“I don’t,” Eddie smiles indulgently, sliding him a plate. “But I’ve been watching my granny bake since I was tall enough to peep over the counter.”

He presses a fork into Steve’s hand and a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder as he saunters off towards the kitchen. 

“Enjoy your pie, sweetheart. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from the closet. The apron, too.” 

Steve gulps around his first bite of pie. 

More holiday drabbles

Looks like his nonna’s baking isn't the only thing that's gonna get fucked.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 6

Summary: Negan gets a proper introduction to Y/N's children, attempting to get to know them. Joel finds out about it and he's not too happy to hear about the time that his children are spending with the man from his past.

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

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155201419

Warnings: Swearing, angst, bickering, dirty talk, etc.

Notes: Thanks again to those that read the story. This chapter has both boys in it again. I think they are both in most of the chapters from here on out.

“Hello?” Elizabeth’s voice called out when she entered her mother’s home. Instead of just barging in like she had done the night before, Elizabeth wanted to make her presence known. Thankfully when she entered the home she lived at with her mother, the Christmas decorations were lit up alerting her to the fact that her mother was most likely awake. It was morning and something smelled incredible. Moving further into the house, she entered the kitchen to see Negan and her mother making breakfast together laughing. Just seeing the two of them like that had Elizabeth stepping back. With how happy the two of them looked it reminded her of what her parents had been like when she was little. It had been a long time since she saw her mother laugh like that. Negan was behind her mother, his arms reaching around her to help her finish whatever they were cooking. An uneasy breath fell from her throat when Negan stole a quick kiss from her mother. “Mom?”

“Oh hey honey,” Y/N was surprised to see her daughter, turning to face her to show that she was still wearing her pajamas. Negan was in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top that Elizabeth assumed used to be her father’s that her mother loaned him. She didn’t know how she felt about that. “We were making breakfast for all of us.”

It had been a long time since she had seen her parents making breakfast together like that. Smiling, laughing and working together. It was shocking to see and what was even more mind blowing was how happy her mother looked with Negan. For that small moment she remembered what it was like when she was young with her mom and dad, but it had been a long time since they had been that happy together.

“Hey kiddo,” Negan nodded over toward the kitchen table where scrambled eggs and some fresh fruit were already prepared. “We’re making the sausage gravy right now and the biscuits will be out of the oven in a minute.”

“I didn’t know you could bake and cook,” Elizabeth gazed upon Negan who gave her a cheesy, big smile.

“There are a lot of things that you probably don’t know,” Negan winked, going back to working on what he was doing on the stove. “I like to be a man of mystery sometimes. It keeps things interesting.”

“He says that, but once you get him talking, he won’t shut up,” Y/N teased, reaching out to poke at Negan’s ribs. It had him laughing, arching away from her and Elizabeth was surprised how quickly these two seemed to be at ease with one another. A loud snort fell from Negan which involuntarily made Elizabeth laugh. “See, he’s no heartthrob. He’s just a massive dork.”

“I’m heavily offended,” Negan asserted, placing his hand in over his chest to feign being hurt by the comment. Looking back at Elizabeth again, Negan nodded his head about dramatically. “Actually, your mom is right. I have a big mouth and I talk way too much. I just tried to keep my private life away from the public. No baseball fan wants to hear that their favorite player loves to bake.”

“You’d be surprised,” Elizabeth commented, stepping forward to look at the things that Negan and her mother were working on. “Do you need some help with something?”

“We’re almost done here. Unless you want to grab some juice from the fridge for everyone?” Y/N asked of her daughter, stepping forward to place a quick kiss at her daughter’s temple.  

With a nod, Elizabeth went to grab some glasses. Putting them on the table, she spun on her heel to go for the refrigerator. Stopping, she looked back again hearing Negan humming a song out loud. Watching the two of them together had a lot of mixed emotions flooding through Elizabeth. Elizabeth had only met Negan last night and he was a stranger to her. Just someone she grew up watching on the television. But with her mother? It looked like Negan had known her for a lifetime with how comfortable they were together. Playfully Negan nudged Y/N with his hip and it had her giggling.

Shaking off the feeling that she was experiencing, Elizabeth opened the fridge and grabbed the juice. Closing the door after she pulled it out, she headed back for the table and poured some into each glass. Setting the bottle at the center, she then headed to take a seat for herself.

“Are you okay with me cutting open the biscuits and putting the sausage gravy on top of them?” Negan confirmed with Elizabeth, looking back at her with his big hazel eyes. Quickly she nodded clearing her throat uneasily when he went back to finishing things up.

It seemed like Negan did her plate first and handed it to Y/N to give to her before going back to working on the last two plates. Y/N carried the plate over to the table, scooping some of the scrambled eggs out of the serving bowl that was at the center of the table. And then went to grab two regular pieces of sausage for Elizabeth.

“I don’t mind doing that,” Elizabeth offered, holding her hand out. There was a bit of color in Elizabeth’s face and it made Y/N smile that her daughter was embarrassed.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m just used to being your mother and taking care of you,” Y/N lowered the plate down for Elizabeth to finish gathering what she wanted. Pushing the individual bowl of fresh fruit closer to Elizabeth, Y/N also put the other two bowls where her and Negan would be sitting.

“Oh! Don’t forget about the blueberry muffins we made,” Negan snapped his fingers pointing toward the blueberry muffins that were cooling on the counter. It made Elizabeth smile when she realized how big this breakfast was turning out to be.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me,” Elizabeth stated and it made Negan’s eyebrows bounce up when he turned to face them holding his and Y/N’s plates in his hands.

“I was just really hungry,” Negan insisted with another big, cheeky smile moving toward the table to set the plates down. Turning back, he grabbed some of the muffins and set them at the center of the table. “I’ve already eaten two of these and trust me, they are better when they are warm. So I’d have one if I were you.”

Nodding, Elizabeth reached out to grab one of the muffins to set it beside her plate. Noticing the way that Y/N was smiling at Negan when he took his time sitting down still was weird for Elizabeth. It was nice seeing her mother happy, but this was new and this was fast.

Starting off with the muffin, Elizabeth took a bite of it and was pleasantly surprised how good it tasted. Then again, her mother was always a good baker so she wasn’t sure how much of it was Negan and how much of it was Y/N.

Swallowing down her food, Elizabeth looked between Y/N and Negan while she poked at her food, “I don’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, but do you mind if I ask the both of you what is going on here?”

“Breakfast?” Negan spoke with a mouthful of one of the blueberry muffins that he had grabbed. Even if she didn’t want to laugh, there was something about the facial expression that Negan had that made her giggle.

“That’s…that’s not what I mean,” Elizabeth tried to hold herself together at how simply put Negan said that. Setting her fork down, Elizabeth knew that this was something that was actually important so she wanted to give the two of them her full attention in this moment. “I mean between the two of you. I only just found out the other day that the two of you were really good friends. And then suddenly Negan Smith is in our home and the two of you look like something out of a romance film.”

That comment had both Negan and Y/N looking to each other. Color flooded into Y/N’s face and a smirk tugged at Negan’s handsome features, “Are the two of you dating?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Y/N looked to Negan who was allowing her to answer the questions since Elizabeth was her daughter. “We just had a date last night and the two of us are enjoying being around each other right now. Negan is only going to be here for the holidays and we…”

“Missed each other,” Negan finished for Y/N with a charming smile that made some color flood into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Hearing them talking about each other like that was pretty hard to comprehend and take in for her. “I understand how this could be uncomfortable for you Liz and if you have any questions about me…or us…I’m willing to answer them.”

“What did you call me?” Elizabeth demanded with Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering. Looking to Y/N, Negan seemed to panic before looking back again. “Did you call me Liz?”

“Your mother said you wanted to be called Liz when we were talking about you last night. I just thought…” Negan stuttered, clearing his throat uneasily. By her reaction to him calling her that, he thought that Y/N’s daughter seemed angry. “I’m sorry Elizabeth.”

“No, I’m okay with being called Liz. I’m just surprised you know my name,” Elizabeth liked that someone she had looked up to for so long actually knew who she was. “I don’t mind you calling me Liz. It’s hard for me to think that you know about me.”

“You were one of our biggest topics of discussion last night and this morning. Of course I know your name,” Negan assured her letting out a sigh of relief since he thought he had done something wrong originally. “I mean what I said though. Any questions you have, I’ll answer.”

Pushing her hair back over her shoulder, Elizabeth gave a nod. Dropping her hands down at her sides, she curled her fingers around the edge of the seat and sighed, “Did the two of you have sex?”

Hearing that so bluntly asked had Y/N choking on what she had in her mouth. Instead of being offended, Negan just seemed to laugh at how quickly that was brought up.

“I’m sure he’s okay with you asking questions, but nothing like that,” Y/N pled with her daughter knowing that Elizabeth probably could answer that herself after everything. The truth was that they had slept together multiple times during the night and the morning, but she wasn’t about to tell her daughter that. “Please.”

“Maybe we can keep the questions non-pornographic?” Negan requested, teasing Elizabeth in the moment. A tiny snort fell from him again and the color grew back into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Embarrassment flooded throughout her veins realizing that was probably too much of a question to ask. But Negan did seem rather amused with her bluntness instead of being offended. Elizabeth’s brown eyes seemed to want to avoid meeting his stare now. “You’re still a kid after all.”

“I’m not a kid,” Elizabeth was quick to correct Negan, not wanting to be viewed as a child in the situation. Smirking, Negan gave a nod of his head and Y/N pushed her chair a little away from the table.

“You’re still my child and you’re not eighteen yet,” Y/N reminded her daughter of things, reaching out to extend her hand to place it in over Elizabeth’s. Squeezing softly at her hand, Y/N wanted to show that she supported her daughter but still wanted to stress that she wasn’t an adult yet.

“Then can I ask if you want to date my mom?” Elizabeth looked to Negan again after Y/N pulled her hand away. Reaching for the fork that she had put down, Elizabeth started to poke at the scrambled eggs while Negan chewed. Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up with a muscle flexing at the corner of his jaw. “Like are you calling yourself her boyfriend or something?”

“I don’t think we’ve really talked about that yet,” Negan responded the best way he knew how. “We’re just two people that used to be close and we’re enjoying each other’s company while I’m here.”

“You won’t hurt her?” Elizabeth questioned and she felt like she sounded like a parent right now instead of a teenager who was meeting their celebrity idol.

“I don’t plan to,” Negan stated with a shrug of his shoulders looking to Y/N who was gazing back and forth between the two. “I hurt your mother a long time ago by letting our friendship slip through my fingers and I want to make up for that.”

“So I should expect to see more of you then?” Elizabeth confirmed with Negan. Nodding his head while he swallowed down his food, Negan looked to Y/N for confirmation. “More than just Christmas time?”

“I’d hope so,” Negan took another bite of his breakfast, waving his fork about afterwards. “With my schedule, I’ll do my best. I’d like to get to know her better along with you and your little brother. I should have been here all along to do that.”

“So…does that mean you want to be like our dad now?” Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to take that. Immediately Negan shook his head.

“No, I don’t ever expect to take the position of your father. I know the two of you have a good relationship with him,” Negan felt odd talking about marriage, dating and all of this when it was just the first night they spent together. Only more so because he didn’t want to rush things. He felt comfortable with Y/N, but he didn’t want to scare her away. “You both sound like awesome kids and I’d just like to get to know you more.”

“Dad told me that mom wanted you to be my godfather,” Elizabeth recalled what Joel had informed her of the other day. Maybe it was stupid to mention it, but after Joel said it, it had been lingering in her mind for days.

“And I wish I would have been around to have that opportunity,” Negan stressed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Looking to Y/N, a large amount of empathy seemed to flood into Negan’s features knowing that was something Y/N wanted. “I would have been so lucky to be your godfather.”

“It would have given me awesome bragging rights,” Elizabeth added eliciting a loud laugh from Negan with her response to it. “Seriously. Could you imagine? Me getting to go around and tell everyone that you were my godfather? People would be so jealous.”

“Who is your godfather?” Negan wondered looking between both Elizabeth and Y/N.

“Uncle Tommy,” Elizabeth was quick to answer, shrugging her shoulders at the idea of it. “It still blows my mind that you were so close to my parents. When my dad said you were best friends, I didn’t believe it. Then he told me you were closer to my mom.”

“Well, your Uncle Tommy is a good man,” Negan conceded, taking another big bite of the food that was on his plate. Waving his fork about, Negan thought back to when they were children. “Your mother was always my best friend. I can’t remember how we met, but we were together all the time. And then your dad and your Uncle Tommy moved to town and they just became part of our group. After your mother knocked out a bully for Tommy, we were pretty much inseparable.”

“Dad told me about that,” Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh and it had Y/N lowering her head to bury it in her hand. “I can’t believe you beat that kid with a hockey stick!”

“Your dad did not tell you that!” Y/N seemed offended, dropping her hand down so fast that it smacked against the table. Warmth flooded into Y/N’s features at the idea that Joel told their daughter about how she attacked someone. Both Elizabeth and Negan were laughing at her response. “I hit him once with the hockey stick just to get him to let go of your Uncle Tommy!”

“It echoed throughout the entire street,” Negan reminded Y/N, setting his fork down for a moment. Acting like he was holding a hockey stick, Negan made a popping sound when he pretended he was hitting someone with it. Groaning out, Y/N dropped her head down into her hand again. “And as soon as he dropped your Uncle Tommy, the fists started swinging.”

“Dad said you beat him so bad that he wouldn’t tell anyone because you were a girl and he was embarrassed,” Elizabeth added to the conversation drawing Y/N to drop back against the seat. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Y/N shook her head slowly. “Dad said he was afraid of you after that.”

“Your mom could kick some serious ass,” Negan alerted Elizabeth evoking a glare from Y/N when she looked to him. Throwing his hands up, he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “I mean it. No one fucked with you because you would whoop their ass. You were a badass.”

“It’s so hard to picture you like that now,” Elizabeth was amused to hear about that side of her mother. “You really had a lot of fire in you, huh?”

“I did,” Y/N admitted, tipping her head from side to side. She never lied to Elizabeth before so she wasn’t going to start now. “I had a problem with people being assholes. Especially since the boy bullying your Uncle Tommy was my age. It pissed me off. If someone was an asshole, I would put them in their place no questions asked. But I don’t condone that behavior now of course.”

“I think it’s cool,” Elizabeth responded with another amused sound. “Knowing you were a badass does make things more interesting.”

“Your Uncle Tommy thought he was the biggest bad ass being part of our group. He was five years younger than me and your dad. And he would get to hang out with people our age. All the kids his age were jealous of him. Or scared I guess,” Negan thought aloud, reaching for another blueberry muffin. “If someone stepped out of line, they would have had to deal with one of the three of us.”

“I wish that wouldn’t have changed,” Elizabeth sighed loudly, entertained at the idea of it but sad in a way that she missed out on that.

“Yeah, me too,” Negan dropped down his hand to place it in over Y/N’s knee. Patting it a few times, Negan squeezed gently and then smiled when Y/N lowered her hand to place hers over his.

“I’m still going to throw some shade at you about stealing those bragging rights away from me,” Elizabeth pushed, almost in a joking tone when she went back to eating.

“What can I do to make up for it?” Negan questioned, pulling his hand out from underneath Y/N’s. Tapping his hands over the top of the table brought Elizabeth’s attention back to him. Stretching out his arms, he threw them up in the air. Elizabeth didn’t know how to respond to that. “What can we do now to give you bragging rights?”

“Careful,” Y/N warned Negan knowing that her daughter might have a field day with what he was asking. Rubbing his hands together, Negan didn’t seem to mind whatever would be thrown his way. He wanted to make a good impression with Elizabeth. He made that very obvious.

“If she wants to show off to her friends somehow, we can do whatever,” Negan allowed that idea to be thrown out there, waving his hand about as he spoke. “I dropped the ball when it came to being her godfather, so if I can make up for it some other way. I’d like to.”

“Bullshit,” Elizabeth stammered causing Negan to laugh out loud. While Elizabeth picked up a lot of her father’s features, the expression she just made reminded Negan so much of Y/N when she was younger.

Truthfully? Looking at Elizabeth also had a shit load of emotions flooding throughout Negan. Back when they were younger, Negan could have never pictured Joel and Y/N having a child together. But, here one of them were. And she really did seem to be a mix of both of her parents. Negan picked up on it so quickly.

“Well, I mean within reason of course,” Negan stressed, biting down at his bottom lip knowing that it was best to throw that out there just in case. Y/N still thought this was brave, but she was waiting for Elizabeth’s response. “You know, to make up for the way things went down.”

“Can I take a selfie with you and post it on my socials?” Elizabeth pushed, a range of excitement flooding into her younger features. Looking to Y/N, Negan wanted her to give him a silent answer to make sure it was okay with her first.

“They aren’t going to show up at our house wanting to do the same, are they?” Y/N inquired seeing her daughter immediately shake her head. Even if they did show up at the house, Elizabeth would assure them that they wouldn’t because she wanted this.

“I mean Lydia might want to meet him, but she’s my best friend so…” Elizabeth stressed looking between the two of them. Getting up from the table, Negan moved around it and knelt down beside Elizabeth. Allowing Elizabeth to take a photo of the two of them, he noticed that she was posting it on something saying she was having breakfast with ‘the’ Negan Smith.

“You’re still such a teenager,” her mother smirked, reaching out to squeeze her hand in over her daughter’s wrist noticing that Elizabeth got a bit embarrassed at how she reacted. Hearing the notifications going off on her daughter’s phone made Y/N look to Negan who gave her a wink. Successfully, Elizabeth got what she wanted. Bragging rights.

Getting up, Negan went back to his seat in attempts to finish his breakfast. Instead of looking at her phone, Elizabeth pushed it forward on the kitchen table and looked between them. There was a sense of pride that ran through Elizabeth after the move she pulled.

“Your mother tells me that you play softball,” Negan changed the subject for a moment after taking a big bite of one of the biscuits that was covered with gravy. “She says you’re really good at it. Did you want to go professional with it?”

“Professional? Probably not,” Elizabeth answered, her eyes falling to her phone that once again buzzed. Y/N felt like her daughter was probably desperate to see who it was but she was trying to act levelheaded in front of Negan. “It’s not the same for women like it is men. But it has been helpful with college. I can still play when I’m in college. Do something I love while also focusing on my education.”

“That’s very smart,” Negan applauded her for her decision, snickering when her phone vibrated again. “We’ll have to throw a ball around one day. See how strong of an arm you got there.”

“That’d be really awesome. I’d like that,” Elizabeth confessed with a huge smile.

This was really something special to Elizabeth and Y/N knew that. This was someone Elizabeth looked up to and he was treating her extremely good. It actually impressed Y/N with how good Negan was being around her daughter. It was their first day back with spending a lot of time together and he was already taking on the job of making her daughter feel comfortable around him. That made Y/N happy and showed that Negan meant what he said about things.

“Does dad know about this?” Elizabeth broke the silence that had fallen upon them for a while so they could eat their breakfast. Even though she was very happy about everything and geeked out, she couldn’t help but let her father linger on her mind.

“Which part?” Y/N didn’t know how to respond because there was a lot going on.

“That the two of you are spending time together?” Elizabeth spoke before going to eat some of the breakfast that they made for her.

“If he didn’t, he sure does now,” Negan pointed toward Elizabeth’s phone, giving a half smirk. “Unless he doesn’t follow your socials.”

“He doesn’t,” Elizabeth was quick to answer Negan with a shake of her head. In fact, it made her smile because one thing about Joel was that he absolutely hated the internet. Social media didn’t make much sense to him and while Joel was good at most things, he wasn’t incredibly good with computers. “He doesn’t really like technology things. He’s not very good at them. Mom is always having to fix his laptop for him because he just doesn’t…get it.”

“Your father knew that I was going on a date with him last night,” Y/N was honest with her daughter wanting to be as open as she could possibly be with her.

“And he was okay with that?” Elizabeth was curious and it had Y/N looking down toward her plate. Poking at her food, Y/N knew that Joel had been on her mind all night, but with Negan here it wasn’t the time or place.

“Baby I love you,” Y/N began, speaking softly so that she didn’t seem to have any anger toward Elizabeth or Joel from the start. “And while I care a lot about your father, whether he’s upset about us spending time together or not is not really something I want to stress about.”

Was she scared about Joel’s reaction to things? Of course. It was something that Y/N had thought about all night after she had slept with Negan the first time. There was no questioning that Joel would be furious with her for sleeping with Negan. Deep down she knew that. All she could do was compare both Joel and Negan all night long. But if she worried about Joel’s response? She was never going to be able to relax.

“Your father dated Tess off and on for years,” Y/N reminded her daughter, not wanting to sound too angry about things. “And not once did someone ask me if I was okay with it because at the end of the day, it wasn’t my place to be angry or accepting of it. It was your father’s life and he was doing what he wanted.”

“You’re right,” Elizabeth had taken a moment to think about what her mother said. There wasn’t much more that she could say really because she was aware just how true that statement was. So she went back to eating.

A moment later Negan nudged Y/N with his arm to get her to look at him. With a nod of encouragement he was letting her know that he thought her answer was a good one. It was nice knowing that Negan had her back to let her know that she didn’t fuck up in that moment. His wink told her that.

“Are you really retiring because of your knee?” Elizabeth stammered after a few moments of silence and it had Negan lifting his head. Arching his eyebrow, Negan’s expression was confused where she was going. “I’ve just seen people talk on the internet about why you were really retiring. You’ve hurt your knee twice. Everyone knows that. But the whole sticking around for another season thing. Does that mean your knee is good enough for you to keep playing?”

“Yeah, I’m retiring because of my knee,” Negan replied, swallowing down hard when his career was brought to the table. “When I hurt my knee the first time I was told that I shouldn’t have gone back. But I did. I loved the game too much. And then I hurt it the second time. I just don’t think I ever felt the same again after that injury. I’m slowing down and I was told that I was going to have to get surgery on my knee again. But I’m putting it off. I wanted to have one last go before I retired officially. I’m getting older anyways and I should stop before I’m no longer good at what I do.”

“Most people play until they suck,” Elizabeth brought up other players hating to hear that his retirement was legit.

“I can’t be that person,” Negan spoke honestly realizing that he had thought about that a lot too. “I don’t want to be forced to quit because I’m so bad. I want to go out while I’m still good at what I do. Where I’m still at the top. Because then I can have a final year where people still love me. I’ve seen some of the much older guys overstay their welcome and instead of being supportive, the fans turn on them. I don’t want that to happen with me.”  

“Can I see your knee?” Elizabeth wondered, her brown eyes getting big with Negan snickering. She was hopping all over the place, but it amused Negan. It was typical for a young kid to be scatter minded when someone they looked up to was around. He was used to this over the years he had been a baseball player meeting fans.

“It’s just a knee,” Y/N chuckled but Elizabeth shrugged. With another smirk, Negan stood up from the table and moved in beside Elizabeth. Bending over, he rolled up the pant leg of the sweatpants. Pretty quickly, she turned in her seat to observe Negan’s knee. You couldn’t miss the scars from Negan’s surgeries but it didn’t look as bad as Negan clearly thought it did.

“I would have killed that guy that purposely did that to you,” Elizabeth snorted with an angered sound, sliding back into her seat. “Everyone knows he did it because you were destroying them. With you on the team, there was no losing. Plowing into your knee from behind? That was such a shitty thing to do. And what did it get him? He’s no longer playing. And you still are. Fucking loser he was.”

“Elizabeth!” Y/N was surprised to hear her daughter talking like that which had Negan amused as he rolled his pants back down over his leg.

“I’m not a child anymore! Plus, that’s what dad said back then too!” Elizabeth defended herself, placing her hand in over the center of her chest. “I learned everything I know from him. We watch sports together all the time. That guy that hurt Negan was a fucking loser. If he wanted to win, he could have done it fair and square instead of going after the best player on the team like that.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Negan began, heading back over to his seat to sit down. “Unfortunately, injuries like mine are the most common for a lot of baseball players. It could have happened to me at any point, but it was sad that another player did that to me purposely.”

“Did you at least punch the guy out?” Elizabeth begged for some kind of answer which had Y/N looking to Negan.

“I wanted to, but my wife did instead,” Negan huffed hearing both the girls laugh. “If you remember that game, it caused a huge fight on the field. The coach on the other team forced that guy to apologize to me as they were loading me into an ambulance. My wife was at the game and when he approached us, she just full on right hooked him. Hit him so hard that she broke his nose and there was blood everywhere.”

“Your…” the smile slowly faded from Elizabeth’s face when she tore her stare away from Negan and to her mother. “Your wife? I forgot that you were married.”

“I was,” Negan stressed his words, reaching for the necklace that he wore to bring it forward to show the wedding rings that were there. Worry had filled Elizabeth at that point because she was obviously nervous that her mother was spending time with a married man. “She passed away a few years ago.”

“That…that makes sense,” Elizabeth frowned, setting her fork down. Guilt started to eat away at her. By the expression over Negan’s face it had upset him some talking about his late wife. “I remember you talking about her all the time when I was little and then you didn’t. That’s probably why…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“You didn’t know,” Negan lowered his necklace back down, outstretching his hand to give Elizabeth’s hand a firm squeeze.

A buzzing filled the air drawing all of their attention to Elizabeth’s phone seeing that it was Peter calling her. Instead of answering, Elizabeth kept eating and there was a certain smirk that was over Elizabeth’s face that said she knew Peter was calling about Negan. The call ended and then Peter started calling her again which had Elizabeth avoiding it once more.

“Elizabeth,” Y/N called out to her daughter seeing that there was amusement across her daughter’s face. “You’re teasing your brother.”

“You know just as much as I do that he’s going to call me a few more times and then he’s going to call you,” Elizabeth suggested pointing at the phone. Peter called one more time before Y/N heard her cell phone ringing on the counter. “See. You better be prepared because once Peter knows that you are here he is going to want to come over here to meet you too. And if you think I talk too much, wait until he is here.”

“I’m okay with that,” Negan gave the go ahead with a nod when Y/N pushed her seat back to go head over to grab her phone. “The only thing I have to do later is go to my mother’s house for dinner. But if the three of you want, you can come with me. My mother loved your mother. So I think she would be excited to see her.”

“You’d let us meet your mother?” Elizabeth seemed shocked that Negan was so willing and open to include them in his life.

“It’s not exactly a good thing,” Negan teased Elizabeth with a wink. “She is my mother after all.”

“Yep. Peter is coming home immediately,” Y/N hung up her phone causing Negan to snort. “He’s desperate to meet you too.”

“I just invited you and the kids to come with me to my mother’s house tonight for dinner,” Negan adjusted Y/N’s chair so she could sit down in it easier. “That’s if you want to.”

“It’s supposed to be Joel’s time with them,” Y/N responded having Elizabeth hush Y/N from speaking any further. “I’m just saying I don’t know how your father would feel with you spending one of his days with us instead of with him.”

“We’ll go to dad’s house after the dinner, but do you really think it would be cool for him to turn away time with my favorite athlete?” Elizabeth desperately wanted to be around Negan more and it was obvious. An amused rumble of a breath fell from Negan’s lips before he went back to eating. “And you know that Peter is going to eat up most of Negan’s time when he gets here.”

“As long as I don’t get in trouble with your father for it?” Y/N rambled on, looking to Negan who gave her a smile. “Then I’m completely okay with it.”

----

Well today did not go how Y/N thought it would. At first it did. Peter came home and he immediately was full of questions for Negan. Peter snacked on some of the cupcakes and muffins that they had made while they all sat together to talk in the living room. Which was really just Elizabeth and Peter asking Negan hundreds of questions that he tried to answer for them. It was mostly about baseball and being famous, but he answered every single one of them. It surprised her how much patience Negan had for them. But she appreciated that he did.

The day went by quickly and before she knew it, it was time for them to go to dinner at Negan’s mother’s home. Even though Negan’s mother was someone she grew up with, she wanted to make a good impression with her. So they all got dressed nicely. Both her and the children. Because Negan didn’t have any clothes at her house, he just put on what he had worn the night before with her for their date.

What was surprising was learning where Negan’s mother lived. She still lived in the childhood home that Negan grew up in. For some reason, she thought that Negan’s mother moved out of that home when Negan’s father passed away. Then again, she really lost all contact with Negan after they stopped being friends. Maybe she publicly ignored things with Negan’s mother to force herself not to care about him anymore.

There were two problems with coming to dinner here. The first? Negan’s childhood home was right next to her parents’ home. The reason Negan and Y/N were so close is because they were neighbors. They were never too far from each other. After Y/N had gotten pregnant with Elizabeth, her parents had kicked her out of their home. They wanted her to get an abortion and she refused. So they wrote her off completely. And that never changed. It had been over eighteen years since she had spoken to either one of her parents. That didn’t mean she didn’t try though in the past. They lived in the same small town after all. There were moments where she saw them and tried to interact with them. Get them to realize that they had grandchildren that could use them in their lives, but they didn’t care. Nothing broke down that wall they put up after they cut her off completely. Elizabeth and Peter never met any of their grandparents. All they ever knew was their parents and Tommy. So being next to her parents’ home? Yeah, that was really uncomfortable and brought back painful memories.

The less painful, but just as uncomfortable thing was that Joel and Tommy’s home was down the street. The reason they were all so close as children was because they lived by each other. Joel’s parents’ home was down the street from them. That was the first home she shared with Joel. They lived their together until they both could afford to move to the home that she lived in now. After they got divorced? That was the home that Joel moved back into with Tommy who was still living there at the time.

A lot of her fears were put to rest when they got here though. Negan’s mother welcomed her with open arms like there was no time gap between. How Negan’s mother treated her back when she was a child was the same way she did now. She was welcoming, friendly and very sweet. The children really seemed to like her and vice versa. Negan’s mother treated Y/N like she was still that girl that lived next door. And she was very doting on both Elizabeth and Peter.

Considering Peter and Elizabeth never had grandparents, they actually seemed to cling to Negan’s mother while they spent time there. It wasn’t often they got attention from others. So they were eating it up. Also, they were both just so incredibly excited to be spending time with Negan. They had to stress that like every five minutes. Which Negan no doubt liked. They always made him laugh and smile. That was nice to see.

During dinner a snowstorm started. One that they weren’t really prepared for. It was a heavy one that the weather channel was reporting as dangerous to be outside in. It would be impossible for her to drive home. And that meant she was stuck here.

And right now? The four of them sat together on the couch in the living room watching Christmas movies together. Negan’s mother had set them all up with desserts before going to bed for the night. Before she made sure Y/N knew that she had set the guest room up for Y/N to stay for the night.

They were two movies in at this point. And surprisingly the children had managed to stay quiet during the movies. Well, that’s what Y/N thought at least. Especially since they had been talking Negan’s head off during the rest of the day.

“I think Peter is drooling on Negan,” Elizabeth finally spoke up, interrupting their silence to draw attention to Peter. Tired himself, Negan looked beside him to gaze at Peter. Peter’s head was resting on Negan’s shoulder, his deep breaths were filling the air. “He is such a child. Eats a ton and then falls right asleep. He’s like a baby.”

“I don’t mind,” Negan snickered, reaching up with his left hand to rub at his tired eyes. “When I was his age I used to pass right out if I was sitting by a warm fire after eating a bunch of treats and a big dinner. So I can’t say I blame him. It’s getting late anyways…”

“Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t like to be sleeping on Negan,” Y/N teased her daughter hearing Elizabeth groan out and cover her face. Negan’s laugh followed and Elizabeth shook her head.

“It’s kind of creepy now. Isn’t it?” Elizabeth eyed over Negan and Y/N who were seated at the middle of the couch holding hands. “If you would have told me the two of you were this close? I would have never let the celebrity crush get so big. Trust me, the crush is slowly leaving.”

“Slowly?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in amusement drawing Y/N’s daughter to grow red. Falling back against the couch, she pulled her legs up against her chest and it made Negan giggle. “It’s okay. I crushed on my mom’s friends when I was younger too.”

“You’re not just her friend,” Elizabeth was quiet in the way she spoke because she didn’t want to draw Peter’s attention to what she knew about Negan with their mom. “So yeah. It’s a little creepy and it will be gone soon. I’m forcing it to go away.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N frowned and Elizabeth held her hand up to stop her mom from going forward.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just try to erase from our minds that I crushed on him,” Elizabeth made a disgusted expression. Negan attempted to hide his laugh and Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. They were having small amounts of fun teasing her about it, but at the same time she actually understood why it would make her daughter uncomfortable. It was a tense situation. “Dad was right. It was weird for me to be crushing on someone his age anyways.”

“It was innocent,” Negan suggested with a shrug of his shoulders trying to not make Elizabeth feel even worse about things.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting their time talking and it made Negan look back over his shoulder. Looking at the time, Negan grumbled under his breath and sighed loudly, “Who could be here this late at night?”

Adjusting Peter, Negan was careful in the way that he moved. He didn’t want to wake Peter up since he seemed to be really out cold. Helping Peter to rest against the arm of the couch instead, Negan didn’t rush it. Watching Negan being so good with her son took Y/N’s breath away. It was nice to see.

Tip toeing toward the door, Negan unlocked it and started to slowly open it up. A moment later the door was pushed open firmly with a huff escaping Negan’s throat. Being pushed aside, Negan stumbled back and grumbled under his breath when he realized who it was, “Please Joel, come in.”

“Joel?” Y/N repeated what Negan said, her heart skipping a beat. Sitting forward on the couch, her eyes grew wide when Joel stepped in beside the couch. His glare locked with hers and it was very obvious by the expression over Joel’s face that he was angry. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Joel scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Back at the door, Negan was closing things up. Tension flooded the room with Joel’s dark eyes locked on Y/N’s as if he was waiting for something from her. A thin layer of snow was covering Joel from the snowstorm that was still undoubtedly going. “It’s my night with the children. So I came to pick them up and walk them home.”

“We were just finishing a movie dad,” Elizabeth acknowledged, nodding toward the television. Side stepping, Joel looked to the television to eye over what was on the screen. A muscle was flexing at Joel’s jaw that had Y/N ill at ease. That was definitely a sign that he was angry. And she wasn’t really sure why. “Do you want to finish it with us?”

“No, I don’t,” Joel felt the warmth of someone moving in behind him and he quickly shifted to allow Negan to move in beside the couch. Looking down, Joel saw that Peter was sleeping heavily and he shook his head. Snapping his fingers, Joel expected it to wake Peter up, but it wasn’t working. “Buddy?”

“Just let him sleep?” Negan recommended, nodding over toward the chair that was in the corner. “I can pull the chair in closer, you can sit with Peter and we can keep watching the movie if you’d like? I can grab you a cup of hot chocolate, let you warm up. My mother made this dessert that Y/N and the kids really liked so I’m sure you’d enjoy it. Maybe after the movie you could wake Peter up and…” the sound of Joel clapping his hands together firmly echoed throughout the room causing Peter’s head to shoot up. The sound had scared him awake and Negan sighed loudly. “Or not.”

“Dad?” Peter’s dark eyes blinked a few times trying to register what was going on. Rubbing at his eyes, Peter yawned and forced himself to sit up straighter. “What are you doing here?”

“The snow is really starting to come down. And it’s getting late. I wanted to come get the two of you before it was too dangerous for you to walk home,” Joel explained, outstretching his hand toward Elizabeth. Confusion flooded her young features with Y/N placing her hand in over Elizabeth’s knee. “Come on Ellie, it’s time to go home.”

“Joel. It’s a few houses down. I’m sure they would have been fine,” Y/N couldn’t help but think there was more going on here. Especially with how angrily Joel stormed into the house. “And if it got bad, they could have just stayed in the guest room with me.”

“Why would they do that when they have their own bedrooms just a few houses down?” Joel’s southern drawl grew angrier. Beside Joel, Negan seemed uneasy as he pushed his hands into the pockets of the dark slacks that he was wearing. Narrowing his eyes, Negan kept his stare on Joel while Joel rocked back and forth on his feet. “That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“How did you even know we were here?” Elizabeth blurt out, curious to know what led Joel to coming here in the first place. Silence filled the room until Joel looked to Peter. And in that moment? Everyone else looked to Peter too. Innocently shrugging his shoulders, Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Pete?!”

“He asked what we were doing with mom and I was honest. I told him where we were. I thought it was super cool. I didn’t know I had to be quiet about it,” Peter defended himself throwing both of his hands to his chest. “I just texted him at the end of the last movie.”

“I should have been told to begin with,” Joel interrupted Peter, throwing his hand about. Connecting eyes with Y/N, Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. “Why wasn’t I told where you were going? I think I had the right to know.”

“Because I don’t tell you everything Joel,” Y/N stood up from the couch finding this whole thing to be ridiculous. “Going to Negan’s mother’s house for a dinner so they could meet his mom didn’t seem like such a big deal.”

“I should be able to have a say in who my children spend their time with,” Joel snapped, pointing his finger out at her in a moment of anger.

“Dad?” Peter stood up from the couch hating to see that his parents were angry with each other. It had been a long time since he saw his parents acting like this toward one another. “We’re not babies anymore. We’re teenagers. I hardly tell you who my friends are. I just tell you where I’m going if I’m leaving. We were with mom. Nothing bad was going to happen.”

“And if you wanted us home, we could have just walked home ourselves,” Elizabeth added from where she was still seated on the couch. Right now she didn’t understand why her father was so angry. “It’s really okay.”

“It’s getting dangerous out,” Joel quickly changed his tune, lowering his hand at his side. Clearing his throat, Joel nodded toward the door. “I came here to make sure that the two of you got home safely. I was worried and I didn’t want either of you hurt.”

“Fine,” Elizabeth shrugged, still attempting to understand where all this worry came from. Standing up from the couch, she knew that they weren’t going to be able to finish the film. So before it got any more uneasy, she would just do what Joel wanted. Facing Negan, Elizabeth tried to gather words and it took a minute before she did. “Please thank your mom for us? It was an awesome meal. And it was a lot of fun.”

“Of course,” Negan gave a wink noticing that things got strange as soon as Joel entered the home. “I promise you she feels the same way.”

Back stepping, Negan pointed toward an area and gave a weak smile, “Let me go grab your jackets.”

“We’ll come with you,” Peter announced, waving Elizabeth beside him so they could follow Negan to the closet.

Watching Negan with his children, Joel grunted when Negan grabbed Elizabeth’s jacket. Holding it out for her, Negan helped her get the jacket on before doing the same with Peter. Both of them seemed lost in saying goodbye to Negan.

“You really should have told me this is what you were doing,” Joel whispered so that only she could hear him. “You didn’t tell me for a reason. And I think that’s shady. If I would have known…”

“You would have flipped out,” Y/N finished for him, her eyebrows bouncing up. Joel’s lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he just grumbled something under his breath. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she shook her head and couldn’t believe he came in guns blazing. “Just like you are now. You might want to cool it Rambo.”

Licking his lips, Joel’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t seem too happy with her, “They just wanted to spend some time getting to know Negan. I thought it was innocent, so, I let them. You know Negan and you know his mother. His mother was always amazing with us when we were younger. So don’t pretend like this home was somewhere dangerous for them to be.”

“Right,” Joel’s expression softened, his head nodding when he forced himself to look away from her. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Do you want me to grab some of the dessert that my mother made so you can take some home with you?” Negan’s voice interrupted the two of them, disappointing Joel with his presence.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I eat enough sweets as it is,” Joel began and it looked like he was considering something. “Y’know, I think it’s going to be dangerous driving home tonight. How about you come with us? You can stay in the spare room.”

“My mother already set up the guest room here for her,” Negan informed Joel, moving in beside Y/N with a loud exhale. “I won’t let her drive home. She’ll be safe here. I promise.”

“I’m sure here she will be safe, but at my home, she will be with her family,” Joel attempted to assert his dominance in the moment. Instead of having an impact on Negan, it just made Negan smile. “And I think we’re all safer together.”

“I’ll be right down the street if something happens,” Y/N replied back, reaching out to grab a hold of Joel’s arm to get him to back down. Considering how loud Joel was breathing, it was making it pretty obvious to the children that it was getting awkward between all of them.

“Joel, do you think we can talk for a minute?” Negan requested pointing between both him and Joel. The expression over Joel’s face looked like an immediate fuck no, but when he looked to the children Joel’s features softened. Joel nodded and Negan gave a weak smile to Peter and Elizabeth. “You should go get some of the sweets that my mother made regardless of what your dad said. Christmas time is the best time to allow yourself to eat like a king. Let your dad have some of the dessert. I know my mother would be upset if I didn’t get you to do that. Take your time.”

Pressing his hand in over Joel’s shoulder had Joel pulling out from underneath Negan’s grasp as they headed for the door. Negan wasn’t wearing his suit jacket or his coat when he walked out into the heavy snow with Joel. They moved away from the door and onto the sidewalk with Joel turning on his heel to face Negan. Even though it was later, it was lighter outside with how much snow was falling. A few inches had fallen already and Negan could feel the chill all around him.

“What do you want Negan?” Joel’s hands fell to his hips where he waited to find out why Negan brought them outside to talk in the first place.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know?” Negan reasoned with Joel referring to the anger and tension that Joel was visibly feeling toward him. “The two of us were good friends too when we were younger. I’d like for us to have a friendship again if you’re willing.”

A long, uncomfortable pause surrounded them. Laughing apprehensively, Negan reached up to rub at the side of his face, “I’m willing to forgive you for what you did. This anger? Whatever this is? There is no need for it. I let go of the past. I don’t know where all this hostility for me is coming from.”

“You’re willing to forgive me? Forgive me for what?” Joel snapped, his face scrunching up in anger. Curling his fists at his side, Joel seemed disgusted with Negan. Tipping his head to the side, Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up and he smiled uncomfortably. “I did nothing wrong.”

Standing his ground, Joel stepped forward and even though he was smaller than Negan he was doing his best to be intimidating.

“We both know that’s not the case,” Negan scoffed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling when he was referring to something that Joel obviously knew he was talking about. Making sure that it was only the two of them outside, Negan nodded his head about and sighed. “But like I said, I’m willing to forgive and forget it.”

“Are you? Since you’re the one that brought it up?” Joel sneered, shrinking the distance between them. It had a tiny smirk tugging at Negan’s lips and his eyes narrowed. “I reckon if you forgave me, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I was mentioning it because that’s clearly why you’re acting like this,” Negan attempted to reason with Joel, not liking how things were already starting off between them. A slight shove from Joel was felt at the center of Negan’s chest causing him to step back. Lowering his head, an amused sigh escaped Negan’s throat. “Okay Joel. Or you can blatantly hate me if that makes you feel better. I’d really prefer us to be friends. But I’m assuming that’s not something you’re interested in?”

“I know what you’re doing,” Joel warned Negan, stepping forward to shove Negan again, but this time it barely had Negan moving since he was prepared for it. “You’re doing this because of what I did. I can see right through you.”

“Can you? Because from where I’m standing you sound a little nuts Joel,” Negan threw his hand up in the air, shaking his head. “I’m not doing anything out of malicious intent. I didn’t come back to town with some kind of plan to fuck with you. I just came here wanting to see my mother and take a break from what I was used to. Then I ran into Y/N and we just clicked.”

“Of course you fucking did,” Joel snarled rolling his eyes and scoffing out loud. It infuriated him when it felt like there was a small inkling of hope between him and Y/N before Negan suddenly showed up. “You’re fucking with my family.”

“I’m really not,” Negan stressed gazing back over his shoulder at the front door that was partially opened. “Believe it or not Joel, I actually really like your family. And as I told you earlier, I would really like it if you and I could attempt to be friends again in some fashion.”

“You’re so full of shit it hurts,” Joel claimed with a hiss which had disappointment flooding Negan’s face. In that moment it seemed like the snow started to fall harder around them. “I’m not going to give you my blessing or decide that I’m okay with this because I’m not. I’m not okay with this Negan.”

“Well, that’s not really your decision to make,” Negan exhaled loudly, shrugging his shoulders. A fire was growing inside of Joel with the response that Negan gave him. Even though they were outside in the freezing snow, Joel felt like his body was ready to explode with how angry he was. “I’m sorry you want it to be like this.”

Turning on his heel, Negan stopped when Joel called out to him, “I do have to reiterate that I did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have to apologize for what happened. I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t take it back.”

“I wouldn’t want you to take it back,” Negan brushed off what Joel was saying, giving another small shake of his head. “What happened? It was meant to happen. And I firmly believe that. You were meant to have your children. They are great kids. I really do believe that what was meant to happen, did. But what you did in the past? Well that just proved what a fucking asshole you really could be.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re man of the year,” Joel threw that out there getting disgusted with the way that Negan was talking about things. “I’m sure your wife was always happy, right?”

“Excuse me?” Negan muttered, turning on his heel with Joel’s eyebrows tightening up. That was the first moment that Joel saw any real anger coming out of Negan. The mention of Negan’s wife was something that obviously bothered him. “What do you know about my wife?”

“You’d be surprised,” Joel responded looking beyond Negan when the children started to move out of the house. It had Joel’s posture straightening up and he moved forward, slamming his shoulder into Negan’s who let out a grunt.

“Thanks for letting us come over Negan,” Elizabeth spoke loud enough to draw Negan’s attention to her. Even though things had gotten stressful, Negan tried to force those feelings away. Turning on his heel, Negan gave a wink. Rubbing his hands together, he attempted to warm his hands up. “I’m sorry about the…weirdness of everything.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle kiddo,” Negan promised her with a weak smile, holding his hand out into a fist. Flashing her a big cheesy smile had Elizabeth smiling in return as she knuckle bumped him. In the background Negan could see that Joel was rolling his eyes, but Negan didn’t address it. Peter swiftly moved forward in beside Elizabeth holding his fist up as well for Negan to knuckle bump him. “And Peter. My dude, we’ll have to play some video games sometime.”

“I would die,” Peter emphasized his words eliciting a deep rumble of a laugh from Negan. “That would be awesome.”

“You’re awesome,” Negan rustled Peter’s dark hair before stepping back allowing Y/N to say goodbye to her children.

Outstretching his hand after Y/N was done hugging their children Joel hooked his fingers with Elizabeth’s and then grabbed Peter’s hand with the other. Moving to the door, Y/N watched as Joel back stepped with their children.

“The offer is still on the table. We have a place for you if you want it for the night,” Joel called out to Y/N, hoping to appeal to her somehow. “I’m sure it will feel more like home than this.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N stepped outside, moving in beside Negan who looked both confused and angry with Joel. Taking a second to look them over, Joel shook his head and then started moving down the driveway with the children. They took their time walking to Joel’s house while Y/N reached up to stroke her fingers over the bottom of Negan’s neck. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing,” Negan lied, his long eyelashes fluttering when he looked to Y/N with a shake of his head. After being out in the cold, Negan felt a chill flooding his body and he stepped forward to wrap Y/N up in his arms to give her a hug. “I’m sorry if how Joel is toward me makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m kind of used to Joel being grumpy toward everyone,” she half laughed burying her nose against the side of Negan’s neck. Hearing the sound of a car, she lifted her head up and felt her heart skip a beat. Next door, she caught sight of her parents pulling into the driveway. Stepping away from Negan, she felt a sense of optimism. It was Christmas time and it had been a very long time. By the way they were dressed, Y/N could tell that they had likely been to a party of some kind and were just getting back home. Moving forward, she was hoping to catch her parents’ eye and when she reached a certain spot, she did. Holding her hand up to wave once her mother caught sight of her, Y/N tried to offer up a smile. There was some kind of hope that was lingering there longing for something positive to happen. She should have known better. Immediately, a scowl tugged at her mother’s features when she realized it was Y/N waving to her. It was like a kick to the gut when her father stepped in beside her mother. His reaction time was even faster than her mother’s. Any hope that she had of rekindling a relationship with her parents flew right out the door as quickly as it had entered her mind. With a nudge, her father motioned her mother to move for the door. Neither one of them acknowledged her existence other than that expression of utter disgust. When her mother got to the door, she had looked back at Y/N once more. There was nothing soft in the expression. It was absolute loathing that she could see and it made her chest ache. After they made it inside their home, a pained sound escaped her lips. “Well that hurt more than I thought it would.”

“Fuck them! Do you want me to go say something?” Negan offered, stepping in beside her when she lowered her head and felt embarrassed for even trying.  When Negan had left, obviously, Y/N’s parents weren’t like that. So he couldn’t fathom why they would even act like this to begin with. The people he knew seemed to be very loving and caring. Sure, they wanted the best for their daughter, but kicking her out and shunning her completely from their lives? That was probably his biggest shock. “I can. You know I don’t mind putting people in their fucking places.”

“Don’t,” she placed her hand in over the center of Negan’s back hearing him sigh loudly because he wanted to do something. There was nothing he could do that would change their minds. They would just get angry with Negan and who knows what they were capable of these days. “They made up their minds a long time ago that they wanted nothing to do with me or their grandchildren. It just hurts. Every once in a while I get that reminder and it stings just as much as the day they threw me out.”

“I don’t get it,” Negan stated with a rumble, turning on his heel to look down at Y/N. “They have grandchildren that they want nothing to do with. Why?”

“They didn’t agree with me keeping Elizabeth. Peter they want nothing to do with by default,” she educated Negan on the past, her throat tensing up when she thought about the day her parents lectured her about her decision to keep Elizabeth. “They thought I was ruining both my life and Joel’s. I was the embarrassment for them getting pregnant when I did. I thought they’d break once they saw their grandchildren, but they never did. It’s just hard seeing them around town and having them pretend I’m some kind of stranger.”

“Fuck them,” Negan scoffed, reaching out to grab her shoulders to give them a supportive squeeze. “You’re already a better parent than they were. And you didn’t need them helping you for you to get that way. Your children love you. They will never have to want for anything because both you and Joel made sure that you were present in their lives.”

Instead of speaking, she reached up to place her hand in over Negan’s that was on her left shoulder. Hooking her fingers with his, she knew she’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t sad. There was a soft pull at her shoulder with Negan leading her toward the house. Closing everything up, Negan turned off the tv and put out the fire in the fireplace. Moving upstairs, Negan took her toward his bedroom and it made her smile when she entered it.

“This is like it was when we were young,” she mused stepping away from Negan to look around the room. Gazing at all the posters on the wall made her chuckle because she couldn’t believe that Negan’s mother kept it the same after this long. The bookshelves were lined with trophies and she found herself in awe. Stopping, she couldn’t help but notice the few shelves that had photos lined up. Reaching for one of them, a smile spread out over her face. It was a photo of the two of them before they were even teenagers together. They were hugging each other and the young version of Negan was giving the biggest, cheesiest smile ever. “You’ve always been a ham.”

“I worked on that smile my whole life,” Negan stammered drawing her attention back to him. Standing at his dresser, Negan was shirtless starting to change for the night. Doing the same smile that he was in the photo had her laughing out. Negan could always make her laugh. That was something that she was thankful for. Setting that photo down, she reached for another that was the two of them together as teens. How she had been so stupid to things back then swirled through her mind. It made sense to her why Negan ghosted her completely when they were young. Hearing Negan going through things behind her, she set that photo down and then reached for the photo of a teenage Lucille that was on another one of the shelves. “Hey?”

“Yeah?” she swiftly set the photo down and turned on her heel to see Negan was holding out a t-shirt and some sweatpants for her. “Careful. When you give me your clothes, I tend to take them. I have a history of it.”

“If it makes you happy, I don’t care,” Negan chuckled working his slacks off and adjusting the waistband of his boxer briefs. Awe filled his body when she turned to face him and started taking off her clothes. A wolfish smile expanded over his handsome features when he took a seat on the edge of his desk. “I feel like I’m having flashbacks.”

“You still look at me like you did then,” she announced stepping out of the dress that she was wearing standing before him in just her bra and panties. Setting aside the clothes he gave her, she moved in before him and traced her fingers down over the center of his chest having him tremor beneath her touch. “Maybe this is our sign to do what we never could before.”

“Have sex in my bedroom?” Negan snickered having her head tip from side to side considering the whole thing. “No dad to come in and lecture us. Although, I don’t have any condoms again.”

“That didn’t seem to be a problem yesterday,” she noted tracing her fingers over the tattoo that covered his pectoral muscle. A shuddering breath escaped his parted lips with his long eyelashes fluttering to a close with her touching him.

“While I want to,” Negan lifted his hand, his fingers curling around her wrist. Sweeping his fingers over her pulse point, Negan shook his head. Bringing her hand up, he deposited a kiss over the center of her palm. “You’re sad. You’re hiding it. What you need isn’t sex. That’s only a temporary fix.”

“You can’t fix my sad Negan,” she pointed out having him frown at her counter statement. “I can’t expect anyone to change the pain that I’ve felt for almost two decades. You’re my angel, but no one is capable of that. You’ve already made me happier in the last day than I have felt in a long time. I can’t expect you to carry the weight of my woes on your shoulders.”

“I know, but I would be an asshole to take advantage of how you are feeling about your parents,” Negan stepped forward to caress his hands up over her sides. The roughness of his fingertips traced over her flesh and he nuzzled his nose in against hers. “Cuddle with me tonight? Then in the morning if you’re feeling frisky still, we can take a shower together and sneak one in.”

“You’re sticking to your guns, huh?” she breathed out slowly having Negan smirk and nod his head once. “Alright then.”

Stepping away from Negan, she pulled both the shirt and sweatpants on. By the time she turned back to Negan he was laying stretched out on the bed in a pair of pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. Patting beside him on the bed, Negan beckoned her to come lay with him. Moving across the room, she laid next to him and let out an amused breath looking up at the ceiling. There was an array of paintings that Negan had done up there of a space scene when he was younger that they always used to stare at.

“I’m surprised she kept it the same way,” she breathed out lowering her hand to hook her fingers with Negan’s. “I’m sure my parents threw everything out the moment they kicked me out. Yet your mother, she kept everything the same.”

“My mother is great. And that makes me feel bad sometimes. I couldn’t get the fuck away from my father fast enough,” Negan reminded her letting out a long sigh. Negan also had a complicated relationship with his father and she knew that. “I think this was her way of keeping me with her. It’s pretty sweet. Plus it’s nice to come back here to see who I used to be. Where I came from.”

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday,” she turned on her side, resting her head over the center of Negan’s chest. Cuddling her head in closer to him, she felt his arm hooking around her shoulders pulling her close. “It’d be nice to go back and take everything in. Relax.”

A loud exhale fell from Negan before he pressed a kiss against her temple, “I always thought there was a problem with me. Everyone got sick of me after a while. It scares me with Elizabeth and Peter. I worry that they will be like everyone else.”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Negan denied with a huff, but she lifted her head to give him a tense expression. “There isn’t.”

“My parents threw me away when I was seventeen. You left. Joel got sick of me,” she listed off what she knew to be true having Negan frown. These feelings weren’t something that she just came up with. Ideas of being the problem had been flooding her mind since she was sixteen years old. “There has to be something wrong with me, right?”

“I left because…” Negan swallowed down, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat. “It’s complicated, but there was never anything wrong with you. If anything, you were too good. And that makes it easy for people to treat you badly. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about with your children.”

“They love their father more,” she admitted closing her eyes enjoying the way that Negan stroked his fingers through her hair.

“I did too when I was younger,” Negan reminded her, swallowing down hard thinking about his past. At the beginning of his life, Negan admired his father. A lot. His dad was the man he looked up to the most. And he was blind to how amazing his mother was. When he hit his teens, Negan had started to realize how often his father would let him down and hurt him. So he understood how she was feeling, but he knew that within time, he himself had realized his mother was the better parent all along. “It took me growing up and seeing how things were that it was my mother the whole time that was there for me. Loving me. Caring about me. I just was so desperate for his attention that I never saw that she was there the whole time for me. Sometimes it takes growing up to see who the better parent is. Now I’m not saying Joel is a bad father, but I can see how much you love your children. You like talking about them.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized with a long sigh, but he was quick to hush her. “I know talking about them is what I do the most.”

“I like it,” Negan claimed with a snort, squeezing her in closer to him. “Your self-esteem has been shit on by the world. I think it’s time we work on that because you’re fucking amazing. And you deserve to feel that way. We’re gonna work on that together with my time here. Because I know what you’re capable of and you shouldn’t let people make you feel this way.”

Tipping her head back, she stared up at Negan and sighed. Right now she wished that was a possibility, but after everything she had been through? She wasn’t sure that was obtainable.

----

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

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[mirensiart]

Alright since basically started this mess I’ll end it with a prompt.

As the chain are in Wilds Hyrule, the chain go to settle at an inn in a farming village they find their rupees insufficient because SOMEONE flooded the precious gem and ore market (Wild) so they haft to do a series of chores for their keep.

Legend tends the flowers.

Wild cooks over an oven with flare.

Wars cleans the bar while flirting with the local ladies with moderate success.

Twilight cleans the horse stables near the pig pen.

Four is split into fours hearding the goats.

Sky is looking after the cuckoos because he’s the only one who actually likes them.

Time is also with the cucoos.

Hyrule is with Wind doing the dishes.

As Legend works he comes across an extremely familiar flower. Now while he’s a professional as hiding his emotions, the profound heart ache at being reminded of an island girl puts anything Twilight has endured to shame. Speaking of which, the tears in the ranchers eyes leave him blinded to the small patch of horse poo under his foot as he then slips onto his ribs over the rails into the pig dung face first. Fun fact, a bad enough smell can be considered a form of pain, not so fun for the Captain as his accidentally insult a patron with a disgusted face as Wild suddenly feels a slap to the face coupled with his rib pain leading to his arm jerks. Wild was cooking with olive oil, said oil splashed from the pan to his face and the nearby traveler and sailer duo fell to the ground in agony. But not before dropping the dishes. Time and Sky screamed out at first to the pain of their brothers then themselves as the cuckoos were angered and an additional sense of betrayal washed over them. Four, whom was trying to push four goats back to their pens braced himselves against the pain, the goats felts nails digging into their hinds and in unison delivered four mighty double hind kicks to blacksmith whom now wishes he were a unic.

I'M CRYING IS THIS A PROMPT TO EXPLAIN HOW FOUR WOULD'VE GOTTEN KICKED IN ALL OF HIS BALLS??? JDBDKDBJDBDND

I'M CRYING

please imagine all of them already suffering from all the dumb accidents and then feeling ball pain x4 ohmygod kfbdkd

[cosmal]

✪ — ❛ wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look. ❜ with james pls I am begging (nicely)

simple man

summary you're so pretty james can't speak.

content james potter x fem!reader

James craves two things when he gets home. You and your kisses. Nothing else.

He's a simple man.

He locks your flat behind him and shucks off his shoes to kick them under the rack he'd built for you after you'd called him upset one night after, I've broken my drill, Jamie. I'm so stupid. He'd come over and fixed it for you and you'd made him dinner. That was the first night he'd ever kissed you.

He doesn't bother with calling your name. He can hear you humming in the kitchen. The hum of your oven and the record player in the sitting room crackling as it changes songs. He won't get into how good it smells or how much he loves your cooking or he'll be here all night.

You spin around, your socked feet twisting into the tiles, and fucking beam. "Jamie!" you cheer, holding your wooden spoon like you could use it as a microphone. "You're home!'

"Hey, lovely," he says as fond as he feels. You seem so thrilled to see him that all the fatigue he'd built up at work gets pushed down his arms and out his fingertips.

You open your arms, expecting a hug, and oil drips from the spoon and onto the floor. He doesn't have it in him to be upset because he's dying to be touched by you.

He closes the distance between you and takes you into his arms. Hugging you tightly, pushing his fingertips into the slip of skin that pokes out the bottom of your vest, hands selfish when he starts to inch them forward until he reaches the bottom of your ribs.

Your hug is even worse, you tuck your face into his neck and rub your cheek against his. He worries for your skin because he hasn't shaved lately, but you seem not to care.

Then, you're kissing him. You kiss over the length of his chin and cheek, all the while you're undoing his tie. Your fingers are sluggish as you do so, like you really want to keep kissing him. You hum into his mouth and tug the final loop free.

"So," you say once you're finished. "I'm making shepherd's pie."

James isn't listening, really, to what you're saying. He feels really guilty, but he can't stop thinking about you undoing his tie. How you're fingers felt against his hot neck. How he'd pinched your flesh and you gasped into his mouth. You seem completely unphased which he's sure only makes it worse.

"I made it all from scratch," you smile, stirring browning gravy around your pot. "Not as good as your mam, obviously. I couldn't get the mash as smooth, but I put extra carrots in how you like it."

Plus, you look adorable. You've got no pants on because it's hot, worse than last night. He thinks you're wearing a pair of boxers he was sure he'd lost, and a tiny vest that's more bare skin than it is cotton. There's a speck of oil near the neckline that he's sure you fussed over for too long, and your hair's a mess. Sticking to your neck because you're sweating. He thinks later on he might fix it for you and put a wet towel over your shoulders. He's sure you'd love it.

"Jamie?"

"Hey- what? Huh?" Jame stumbles over his words and realises he's been staring for too long at your thighs and not computing what you're saying.

"Dessert," you lilt. "Do you want ice lollies? Or I froze some watermelon earlier."

"Um," he's stuttering like a fool and can't help it. You look too pretty to ignore. "Right. Watermelon sounds nice, sweetheart."

You place your spoon on its rest and turn back to face him again. You cage him back in with your hands resting at his sides, linked behind him. Your hip presses into his. "Are you okay? You're like all zoned out."

James chuckles. Really, entirely fond. He's been caught. "Sorry, shit - sorry, lovely," he smiles. Then, he ducks his head. "God, I really can’t speak, huh? Must be because of how pretty you look."

He knows if he felt your cheeks, they'd be hot under his fingers. You duck your head down to hide how he makes you feel and his heart swells ten times worse than it already had. "James."

He lets your hip go in favour of your face, using his knuckle to encourage you to look up at him. You look a little too lovesick in James's own opinion.

"What?"

"I look gross," you say, wrinkling your nose. "I've been in the kitchen all afternoon."

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

He kisses you stupid to prove his point. He's a simple man.

-

fixing read more glitch

[nevermorgue]

Okay but what about modern Amnabel's group food preferences?

cracks knuckles. Alright, let’s get into it.

Annabel Lee - complicated. Annabel likes to have the upper hand in every situation, even in casual afternoon lunch outings. She will adapt to almost anything put in front of her. For example, if she goes to someone’s house and they serve tea and scones, she will claim that they are her favorite. Are they? Who knows. She will play it as if whatever is given is something she enjoys immensely, creating the illusion that the world seems to cater to her- that she got lucky that it was her favorite meal. She does this ALL. THE. TIME. “Oh, they are serving pie. That is one of my favorites.” No it is not. She is just making it seem like it is to create the look that “Wow, how lucky for her. The world seems to love her- they’re serving her favorite food!” You get it? She says it’s her favorite for convenience sake. This is why Prospero brings her so many varied pastries when he can. He’s trying to figure out what she actually likes.

As for what she actually likes: She has a pretty varied palette. She does prefer food that is considered more “common” as it tends to have more flavor, and she absolutely loves American food far more than what she had at home. Is the type of person to eat popcorn one piece at a time, but then resorts to shoving 4-5 pieces in her mouth when she’s invested in whatever she’s doing.

Keeps up appearances by ordering what is expected of her. Teas, light foods with small portions.

- packs snacks throughout her school day like grapes or small cheese cubes. Dainty, barely filling little things.

- She loves spicy foods. Hot curries, salsas, she loooves the burn.

Ada - Also keeps up appearances, but obviously not the same way Annabel does. She will pretend to only like more expensive things, but she honestly thinks such things are too bland. She’s a southern girl used to flavor and savory dishes.

- LOVES cheap frozen dinners. She would rather die than admit this of course. Like think those frozen mac and cheeses you put in the microwave.

- She can and will force herself to eat something she doesn’t like, especially if Annabel/Prospero is eating it.

- Hates squid. Calamari? Yuck.

- She likes to comment on things she eats like she’s doing a shitty food review on Youtube. The only person that listens is Will, but you can’t really tell that he’s even paying attention.

- Loves celery

Prospero - This man has a sweet tooth, but he knows how to keep it tamed. He has a very balanced diet and makes sure to make every lunch or breakfast filling enough to last him through morning classes.

- Salad man. He will put so much shit into a salad. He’ll make days worth of salad and sometimes he and Annabel will just eat the whole thing in between classes.

- His favorite dressing is balsamic vinaigrette.

- Very rarely eats fried foods. Corn dogs are cool and he’s more likely to eat one of those rather than something else fried

- For snacking he always gets the things that are called “thins” or “light”, and he is very strict when it comes to the “no eating three hours before sleeping” rule.

- This man hates cashews

- I HC prospero as a mama’s boy idk i get the vibe. He grew up having homemade pasta and refuses to eat it if the restaurant isn’t like locally Italian.

Montresor - Big on steak. Big on potatoes. Big on veggies when they’re roasted or oven baked or anything where they’re mixed up and peppered and cooked. Dude will eat a raw carrot for fun though

- crunches loudly on chips. he does it on purpose.

- has a surprisingly shitty spice tolerance. It’s not BAD, but his face will get red and he tries to play it off.

- Likes messy finger foods like ribs

- Licorice kind of guy. specifically red.

- Prefers green apples over red ones

- really likes blue cheese, especially for his wings

- cannot STAND marzipan anything

Will - Peaches peaches peaches peaches pea-

- Prefers simpler foods. Basic ham and cheese sandwiches, a bag of chips…normal and boring.

- gets overwhelmed when served anything more complicated than what you’d get at an Applebees. He doesn’t really think he nor his body are suited to eat such things. They’re TOO delicious and he isn’t worth it.

- He loves cheesecake brownies. He’s literally only had them twice in his life but he would go insane if he ever saw any for sale anywhere

- The drinks he gets at coffee shops are considered “girly” to Montresor, so he only buys them when he’s alone. Like fruity refreshers and stuff.

- He would like a lot more food if he actively attempted to try new things, he just has no desire to treat himself.

- eats wheat thins for fun

- Only eats 1 singular fruit for breakfast or just skips it all together.

- would probably start crying if he ate a soup. it’s warm and filling and it makes him feel like a waste of space. the warmth settling in his stomach reminds him that he’s real and he hates it.

[wandafiction]

Cooking With Flo

Warning: None, just pure fluff.

“Hey bitches it’s cooking with Flo. Today we are doing it Live so send your questions and I will see how many we can answer.” 

You watch with a smile as Florence puts the tip of the knife into the wooden chopping board smiling into her phone. You are standing behind the phone, off camera leaning against the kitchen island simply watching your wife as she flutters around the kitchen getting everything she needs ready. You had always loved watching Flo in the kitchen. She always seemed so happy and free, which made you happy and the smile on your face shows it. Your smile grows when Flo looks up from her task sending you a small wink then looking down to her phone chuckling to herself.

“Yes, the other Mrs Pugh is here with us today. Baby say hello to everyone.” 

“Hello internet.” You simply speak hoping the phone picks it up, as you want to finish your coffee before making your way onto camera, which you usually do as the food is in the oven to answer any fan questions. 

“Baby I meant come around and say…You know what doesn’t matter everyone is saying hi back.” She rolls her eyes with a giggle as she grabs an onion and puts it on the chopping board. “Okay so today we are going to be cooking something real simple. Chilli con Carne. Why you may ask? Well it is Y/n’s favourite and I thought I would treat my favourite girl.”

You smile, blowing her a kiss which she pretends to catch and put in her apron pocket. Taking another sip of your coffee you simply watch as Florence answers a few comments about upcoming projects, how she is and saying thank you every time someone compliments her. 

“So with the onion you just gotta take her bottom off, then take her top off.” You hold in a laugh placing your hand over your mouth as Florence seems to realise what she has said. She points the knife to the camera with a fake look of seriousness. “Cheeky, don't think like that.”

You shake your head taking another sip of coffee before it comes back out of your nose as the laugh you were holding in finally makes an appearance. As you choke Florence breaks out into a fit of laughter, doubling over as her arm wraps under her ribs, the other placing the knife back down on the side. You fan your face, the coffee leaves a painful sting in your nose, your eyes watering as Florence slowly crouches down till she is sat on the floor in tears of laughter.

“Oh-my-god…I…Can’t be-lieve you did that.” She says between her loud laughs as you continue to cough trying to clear your throat and nose of coffee.

You make your way around the island to where the tap is, quickly running the cold water and putting most of your face under it as you try to wash away the spat up coffee, completely forgetting that Florence is Live on instagram. You remove your face from the water, cupping your hands underneath and splashing the water over your face a few times before harshly rubbing your hands against it. You turn the tap off, shaking your head and hands to try and dry them a little before turning around to see Flo still on the floor in a ball of laughter. 

You lift the bottom of your shirt up to wipe your face dry, then pull it off chucking it on the floor deciding to deal with it later. The moment your shirt hits the floor Flo is quick to stand and jump in your arms causing you to stumble back a little as you catch her. You let out a small laugh as she mumbles against the skin of your neck, not hearing a single thing she said.

“Baby, I didn't catch what you said.” 

“I said you are on camera and no one is allowed to see what's under your shirt but me.” She whines softly, making you laugh more.

“Cuddle bug, they already know what it looks like ever since that video of you stalking me in the gym got out.” Florence's face flushes a bright red at the memory of the day she was posting on her instagram story and instead of putting the video of you working out on her private story it went onto her public one. By the time she realised it was too late and most of her fanbase had already seen you in shorts and a sports bra.

“Doesn’t mean I have to share you with them now though. And that was an accident.” You carefully place Flo back on the ground with a small chuckle as she pouts so you are quick to lean down and peck her lips a few times until she smiles. You make your way to her phone looking at the comments that are flooding in.

“See, the people want me to help you cook in just my sweatpants and bra. And if the people want it then there is nothing I can do.” You laugh loudly when Flo’s hand comes into contact with your shoulder bouncing on your toes to get away from her as she goes for another hit.

“Get back here Mrs Pugh!” She quickly chases after you as you run around the island, once stopping back in front of the phone as she stops behind it eyeing you up like her prey. 

“Hey! We are not children. We are respectable adults who just…well just…just chase each other sometimes.” You answer the comments that are calling the two of you children as the comment section fills with laughing face emojis. 

“I am going to get you.” You smirk at Flo’s empty threat grabbing her phone so you can put music on knowing the one thing that will get her to not completely beat you up in front of thousands of fans. 

“Sure you will, darling. Because you, Miss Florence Pugh, are the best runner in the Pugh household.” You squeal as Flo darts around the island just as you put her phone back down and the room fills with sudden music. 

After a few minutes of trying to chase you around Flo gives up and goes back to her cooking show, apologising to her fans for the unfortunate mishap of a childish wife. Flo looks up to you with a soft smile back on her face as she starts to prepare the meal once more. You smile wide as you see Florence swaying her hips side to side in time to the music singing every few lyrics, still a bit camera shy when it comes to her voice. 

You decide to take the risk of reappearing on camera in just your sports bra and sweatpants as you move to stand behind Florence, wrapping your arms around her waist as you place your chin on her shoulder; having to bend down a little to match her height. She continues to sway a little in your arms as you watch the comments roll in, smiling softly when you hear her voice become more confident as she chops a red pepper. 

You smile wide when Dancing Queen starts playing and you peel yourself off of Flo and start dancing to the beginning of the song, swaying your hips, as you move to wash your hands knowing Flo will need a hand in a minute to get everything mixed together. You start singing as you dry off your hands causing Florence to turn around and look at you with a wide smile, she had always loved your voice and loved when you felt confident enough to sing in front of her; and at this point her fans. 

You hold your hand out for her to take, which she easily does and you quickly pull her into you. You sing to her as you spin her under your arm, her smile and laugh causing you to smile widely and spin her around again. You pull her back into you, keeping her hand in yours, your other one landing on her waist as you sway the both of you side to side playfully and definitely not in time with the music. Your goofiness pays off as Flo pushes away from you before spinning back towards you, your arm ending up wrapped around her as you continue to sway.Her back is to her phone as you shout the lyrics to one another and start jumping around the kitchen in time with the music.

“You are the dancing queen. Young and sweet. Only Seventeen.” You pick up a wooden spoon holding it up to your mouth pretending it's a mic as Flo heads back over to her phone looking through the comments that are flooding in, they must be good because the smile on her face only gets bigger.

You sway your body dancing from one foot to the other as you continue to sing, pointing at Florence as you do so. “Dancing Queen. Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah! You can dance, you can jive!”

“Go Mrs Pugh.” You dance over to Flo as she cheers you on, reading some of her comments. “That's right, my wife can sing, dance and jive. She's the whole package!”

You grab onto her waist with your free hand spinning her to look at you, holding the mic between you both as you sing the last few lyrics to each other. “Having the time of your life. Ooh, see that girl. Watch that scene. Digging the dancing queen. Digging the dancing queen.”

You both laugh with wide smiles as you wrap your arms around her waist pulling her back against your front as you walk the both of you back to her phone. Her hands land on the table as you both look at the comments that are flowing in, most of them hyping the both of you up, some just many random letters.

“What does that mean baby?” Florence points to one of the many keyboard smashes and it makes you giggle.

“That my love is a gay keyboard smash. It’s a good thing, don't you worry.” 

“Hmm, is that like the whole gay panic thing?” You chuckle with a nod.

“Yeah most of your fans are gay my love. They are very jealous of me but also proud that I managed to get to you before some man did.” You see Florence roll her eyes on the livestream, squeezing her hips in response. 

“Well I’m happy I found you when I did Mrs pugh.” She tilts her head to kiss the underside of her jaw and you see a bunch of awws race up the side of her screen.

“I love you Mrs pugh.” You look down at her as you say it, making a toothy smile appear, her nose scrunching as you bring your lips down to hers in a small kiss, this time remembering you are live streaming. 

“I love you too Mrs Pugh.” She returns easily once she pulls her lips away from yours.

“Yes we love you all too.” You say to the phone as you see a bunch of pouting emojis, which have been deemed the Florence Pugh pout, asking if you love them to.

“Yes we most definitely love all of you guys.” You squeeze her hips again making her look back up to you.

“I am going to get a shirt on, and even though I love you very much I love food just that bit more and my stomach is crying out for it.” You say it with a smile so she knows that you are only partially serious because you do not want to be sleeping on the couch.

“Okay. go get yourself sorted baby, I will call you if I need help.” She quickly pecks your lips as you remove your arms from her waist.

“Goodbye internet.” You stroll out of the kitchen, smiling when you hear Flo start her show again before she calls your name and you look around to see why.

“The internet says bye Mrs Pugh.” You chuckle at her goofy smile as she holds the camera in one hand so she can get you in the frame as her face peaks up from the bottom of the camera.

“I love you.” You shake your head blowing Florence a kiss and sending the camera a small wave, laughing when you hear Florence shout back to you.

“I looooove you too, baby!”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

[lennadanvers]

Three times Simon wanted to hug you (and the one time he did)

This is the final part! I was supposed to post it yesterday but fell asleep. You can find parts 1-3 here.

Simon’s birthday wasn’t a special day. Only one person knew about it (Price), and all he got from him was a “Happy birthday, son” and a pat on the back. It was okay, though, because the captain couldn’t give him the only gift he wanted.

He had tried. Really. But he just couldn’t bring himself to ask you for a hug. How did people do that, anyway? Initiate that kind of contact?

Ghost was pretty sure you wouldn’t turn him down. You were too nice to him. But he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. Didn’t want it to be uncomfortable, or weird. You were so… Human. So warm, so much expression, skin, so much life.

He, on the other hand, had the name of a lost soul and the face of an abandoned body.

A poor combination – one that couldn’t manage to think of an effective strategy, by the way. Whenever he saw you, he opened his mouth and all that came out were sarcasm and dad jokes. An it really wasn’t that bad, because you were laughing a lot -and in his birthday, no less-, but he wanted to know what it felt to be safe. Unbroken. Close to you. Maybe then he’d be infected by your humanity.

He had watched Soap. How easy it was for him to touch people. But Ghost had put up a barrier, a boundary, and now it had become a prison. How was he supposed to cross it? To get out? He was a soldier. A fighter. He could stop people. He could kill. But Ghost wasn’t a fucking climber. And feelings can’t be pierced by bullets or cut by knives. He could hit the punching bag all he wanted: his knuckles still ached for a soft caress, not because of the blow.

It would have been the perfect birthday gift. Scratch that, it’d just be the perfect gift in general.

But no, the only perfect thing in Simon’s life were the sturdy defenses Ghost had installed around him.

Well, you were perfect too. Not in the same way, of course. You were so much better. You were unpredictable, flawed, changing. More than perfect. Simon could rely on you, even though he could never guess what was going to be your next move. You were always there, always close, but never enough (though he wasn’t sure it could ever be enough- can one melt into somebody else? Could he make himself a home inside of your ribs?). Always seeing, even when you weren’t looking (you didn’t look at him that much- maybe slightly longer than at the rest of the people at base, but his expression was always harder to read with the mask).

He, on the other hand, was blinded by your light, unable to see past the brightness you casted over everything.

That’s why he found himself hiding in the kitchen, just a couple minutes away from midnight. Ghost liked the kitchen. It reminded him of you. Like anything else, if he were to be honest. But in the kitchen, he felt the warmth of the oven and could pretend it was your heat, finishing cooking the parts of him that were still raw. The fridge was full of the time, dedication and love you had put into baking whatever sugary thing you had been craving recently. It tasted better than a birthday cake, even if it didn’t fully satiate his craving for something sweet.

He'd figured he would be able to enjoy his pathetic beer on his own.

Not in peace, though, because- as usual- you were there. At first, just in his head. You were in the buzzing of the fridge, in the condensation of the bottle, in the empty space between his fingers.

But then you were also under the doorframe, looking at him.

Your head had the same inclination it had when you were perched on a rooftop, eye against the rifle’s scope: you were searching for your target. You said hello in a sleepy voice, and all the lack of air in his lungs allowed him to do in response was nod. As you walked towards the fridge to get some water, he turned back to the table. There were eight chairs. The only one occupied was his.

What if you decided to sit down with him? Make a birthday toast, even if you didn’t know it was his birthday? Maybe all the years piling on his back would weigh less, huh? Especially if there were still seven chairs unoccupied after you sat down.

You didn’t sit. You stood there, quietly sipping water with your hip against the counter. Simon felt your eyes scratching at the back of his mask.

He ran out of beer rather quickly. Maybe a little bit of alcohol would help? But it was just a bottle, after all, and even though he smashed it as hard as he could against the wall surrounding him, it didn’t even make a dent. It just shattered. Ghost knew he’d still be finding shards of glass the next morning.

Taking in the absolute failure, he stood up and fixed the chair against the table. There, as if he’d never been here. Ghost threw the bottle in the trashcan next to you, the fabric of your pajamas was cotton, and pulled down his mask. He muttered some variation of “Sleep well”.

You were wearing shorts, goosebumps on your legs. His hoodie was warm. And big. He was almost certain you both could fit in it.

You blinked at him and left the glass on the counter.

“G’night, Simon.”

You took one step towards the door, and he was already willing his body to move, to open the way for you to leave first.

Ghost had always known you had better sight than him. You were an amazing sniper, out on the field, of course, but also out in life. You saw all the stupid little things: the defeated tilt of his eyelids, the dead motion of his hands hanging at his sides, the chains around his ankles that reached all the way to hell. And, again, you were an incredible shooter. An empathetic one.

Another step, and you were inside. Your arms held his waist softly. It was a slow movement- inhaling before pulling the trigger. Your cheek rested on top of his chest, the shot going straight through your target.

He felt your weight against his ribs, your hair on his neck, your fingers in his back… Simon felt you. He felt you.

His hands tripped to hold you; the grip stronger than socially recommended. But he was doing his best- he wasn’t a climber, after all. The height scared him. So, naturally, he held on for dear life.

Simon ducked his head, nose against your hair. That way he couldn’t see the empty space under his feet- it was easier to pretend he was still standing on the floor, and not floating above it. He took a step towards you, boots almost bumping into bare feet. It wasn’t a big step by any means, but it was the first.

Behind his mask, he could finally smell you. It wasn’t just your shampoo. It was your perfume (faint, subtle, fresh against the heavy air in his side of the fabric), you: special, delicate, and so different from him. Clean- somehow you had managed to get rid of the blood and gunpowder, the guilt, the grime. The last time the sun had touched his face (the first ray of a cool morning): that’s what you smelled like.

Outside.

Good, beautiful things on the other side of the wall.

No humidity, no rotting, no locked darkness. Clean, healed wounds. Life growing, symbiosis, instead of desperate survival. Even though he was so much bigger than you- back hunched, arms wrapped all the way around your ribs, body practically eating you, absorbing- Simon understood his own insignificance.

It was such a relief not being the strongest person in the room.

Simon’s lungs swelled, his knees and brows relaxing, lips and hands trembling. Finally, there was someone in his side of the wall.

If you have any requests/ideas, you can send them and I'll do my best to write them.