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irrelevantwriter · 5 years

Text

By The Light Of The Moon

Pairing: Negan x Witch!Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, Negan getting seriously mind fucked, spooky tings (bc its Halloween and I’m in the spirit)

Word Count: 6.5K

Summary: Negan takes notice of a beautiful stranger at The Sanctuary. You’re willing to offer a lot more than he signed up for.

A/N: So, because I can’t possibly help myself, I’ve decided to do a take on the Hopper x Witch fic I did and do one for my OG Daddy Negan. This one is A LOT more in depth and long AF, but so worth it. This idea was perfect for Negan and I can’t wait to see what you guys think! Enjoy and share with your friends!

P.S.

Requests are still coming! This def got me in the headspace for Negan again. Be on the lookout. And if you’d liked to be tagged in any of my stories, holla at your girl.

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

Negan swung Lucille at his side, deciding to bring her along on his trek through The Sanctuary’s marketplace. The air was crisp and smelled of pumpkin and apple spices. According to his timekeepers, it was the night before Halloween. And The Sanctuary was in full spirit.

Baked goods permeated the air while children rushed to put a costume together. Negan couldn’t help the smile that fell on his lips at the sights and smells. It felt good to be festive and he’d decided to stroll through his kingdom to take in all it had to offer.

Of course he did have an ulterior motive for such a visit. He was Negan after all. He never did anything without a reason. And his stroll had a purpose.

As if seemingly overnight, the whole place had become enchanted with a woman selling homemade goods in the market. She apparently made soaps, candles, and oil remedies, among other things. And they seemed to work, at least by the accounts of his people. It sounded like hippie shit to him. But even Simon had brought her up, talking nonstop about the fucking lotion she made him for his sore shoulder. The man seemed hypnotized...everyone did. And Negan came to find out just exactly what all the fuss was about.

People dropped to their knees as he moved through the crowd, but he waved them off. He was here on pleasure, not business. His dark eyes found a booth in the corner with a crowd surrounding it, the person in charge not visible through the shoppers. Negan made his way over, sure this was where he was headed.

A hushed silence filled the air as he strode up, effectively making his way to the front of the line. He smiled when his eyes caught the beauty behind the table. He understood why so many people were taken with you. You were stunning.

He bit his lip, his toothy grin on full display as he took you in. Beyond your obvious attractiveness, there was a magnetic pull, something he couldn’t quite explain. It was mystic and not solid, like a fog. And he could feel it calling to him.

“Well, what do we have here?” He bellowed, making the people nearby pause. He found he didn’t care to have an audience so he dismissed them, insinuating the booth was closed to everyone except him.

He observed you, trying to read your expressions. You didn’t seem at all perturbed by his actions. In fact, you seemed somewhat amused. A smile turned one corner of your lips and he found himself mirroring the gesture.

“So you’re the one who everyone’s been going on about?” He gestured with his free hand to your surroundings, appearing as if he was unimpressed by your reputation.

Truth was...he was intrigued. And mildly suspicious. Not much got by him at The Sanctuary, if anything. The fact that you’d gone under the radar and passed his keen eye peaked his interest.

“Guess so.” You replied simply, face still unmoving.

He grunted, a little disappointed at your lack of response.

He’d be the first to say what an arrogant, self-righteous asshole he was. Leading a community had made him a hardened man. People respected him. They feared him. And women were enamored with him. They practically threw themselves at his feet. Your blasé attitude made him falter. Yet he found himself inexplicably drawn to you...to your energy. Whatever the fuck that meant.

He picked up a bottle filled with thick ivory cream. The handwritten label said it was body lotion with hints of lavender and vanilla. He wasn’t usually into the fresh scents of body washes and lotions, but he had to admit that the shit smelled amazing.

“Your products are all the rage around here, doll.” He perused your table, picking up a random item here and there to scent. His fingers stopped on a drawstring bag with herbs, the label identifying it as a sleep aide.

“A lot of people feel that they work. Helps them get through the days a little easier.” You explained, following him down the table.

Negan nodded, lifting a lavender candle to his nose. The fucking thing smelled heavenly. “So I’ve heard.”

“You should take some.” You offered, gesturing to the bag of herbs he’d been eyeing moments before.

“For sleep? Why would I need that?” He questioned, almost offended you assumed he didn’t get quality rest.

“It’s the most popular. Not many of us get a good night’s rest these days. I imagine leading this place makes it difficult to fully relax.” You picked up the bag and held it out to him, a pleasant smile still present on your lips.

Negan studied you long and hard, uncaring if he made you uncomfortable. He didn’t appear to though. You stood facing him head on, eyes catching his in a captivating stare off.

“How long have you been here? At The Sanctuary.” He watched as you finally let your hand fall, giving up on passing the herbs to him.

“A couple of months.”

“Who brought you in?” He pressed, eyebrow arched and jaw clenched in an intimidating fashion.

“I don’t remember.”

Negan shook his head and pursed his lips, unhappy with your answer. “Sounds a little suspicious to me.”

He waited a beat to see if you’d react. You didn’t.

“What’s your name, doll?”

“Doll is fine.”

He chuckled, amused by your answer. “You’d be the first to say so.”

He sighed and straightened his back, standing to his full height. He could tell that there was something different about you, something enigmatic. He hadn’t figured out if it was good or bad. He felt the need to push you for answers, to learn every detail of your life, both past and present. But he could also feel a nagging in the back of his head, a nagging that was urging him to let it go.

He decided he would. For now. At least until he could fuck you. Which he planned to do soon.

“I’ll take the herbs and a candle, doll.”

***********************************************

Negan awoke with a start. His body was prickled with sweat, his limbs feeling like lead weights. He reached on his nightstand for his watch, taking note of the still black night outside his windows.

12:00 am.

It was Halloween.

And he’d only been asleep for a few hours.

He searched his memory, trying to piece together his evening. His mind felt oddly foggy and he had to concentrate hard on remembering.

He’d made it to his room after fucking Tanya’s red-headed brains out and then ate his dinner. Then, he’d gone over some notes with Simon for the meeting the next day and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He’d remembered the bag of herbs he’d bought from you and decided to give them a try. He’d followed your instructions and mixed them into a warm mug of water, making sure the liquid went from clear to a light yellow. He found that detail odd, but you’d assured him it was normal.

He drank it. The mixture had a surprisingly pleasant taste. And then he’d apparently passed out because his memory stopped there.

His mouth felt dry and he fumbled for a bottle of water he kept nearby. He drained its contents, wayward drops of water landing on his bare chest instead.

He wiped his mouth and the sweat from his brow, scanning his bedroom for the thing that woke him. Everything appeared to be in order. He stopped and listened, waiting to hear a noise or two. Nothing. All was quiet.

He was overcome with the sudden compulsion to seek you out. It startled him how much he wanted to do so. And while he knew the hour was late and he had no real reason for doing so, he did it anyway.

Negan walked the silent halls of The Sanctuary, somehow knowing exactly where to find you. He moved quickly, the urge to see your face now a desperate craving. Everyone was asleep. Not a soul was up or moving about. That fact was odd. The factory always stayed alive with some sort of activity, even in the dead of night.

That wasn’t the case tonight.

He made it to your closed door in minutes, the light coming from beneath signaling that you were still awake. His heart was hammering in his chest, his body suddenly having a strong reaction to your proximity. He felt off. He’d felt off since he woke up, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly was wrong. All he knew was that he had to see you.

He knocked softly, listening for movement beyond the wooden barrier. He heard a shuffle of feet and then the knob turned. Your figure was illuminated by the light at your back as you opened the door. A wave of lavender and rose scent hit him, instantly putting him in a state of relaxation. He hungrily took in your appearance. A white nightgown that stopped just above your knees adorned your frame. It was a thin cotton material, the fabric nearly see through. It was a mesmerizing sight.

“Hi, I uh…” He found himself at a loss for words. A true first. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, doll.” He scratched at the back of his neck, attempting to focus on your face and not your seemingly impeccable pair of tits.

“It’s okay.” You said softly, smiling up at him as you spoke.

You suddenly stepped away from the doorway and out of Negan’s line of vision. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment before you returned, only this time you had a long black knit cardigan on and flats on your feet. You made a move to step into the hallway with him and he backed up quickly to allow you to do so.

“What’re you doing?” He asked as you turned back to face him.

“Taking you somewhere.” You reached for his hand, pulling him with you down the hallway. Negan followed, though he was unaware of why he was doing so.

“Where? It’s the middle of the goddamn night.” He questioned, taking notice of how you moved with such ease through the maze of halls.

“Somewhere special.” You threw over your shoulder as you led him outside into the chilly October evening.

The sky was black, probably the blackest Negan had ever seen it. But the moon was full and it was illuminating everything. It cast a ghostly glow on the factory and the surrounding woods. A breeze swept through the trees, the remaining leaves falling off their limbs almost instantly. The night was soundless, just like The Sanctuary. It was unusual. Not even the low, decaying groans of the dead could be heard.

“Where’s my fucking guards?” He asked you, somehow knowing you would know the answer. He gestured to the lookout posts atop the fences, the empty spaces making him pause. You pulled against his hand, your flesh suddenly heating him from the inside out.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be fine.” You soothed.

It worked. And he was back to following you beyond the fences.

The woods were dense and difficult to navigate, but you maneuvered through them like you’d been doing it for years. He let you lead him. His body and mind followed you, trusted you. He realized how bizarre and extremely out of character his behavior was, but he couldn’t put a stop to it. Nor did he want to.

The cabin was nestled deep into the woods, but close enough to The Sanctuary that Negan wondered how he’d missed it. It had clearly been here for some time, but appeared to still be kept up by someone. There was a soft glow of light from a window, a billow of smoke rising into the night from the chimney. It was both a welcoming and ominous sight.

They hadn’t encountered any of the dead throughout their journey. He hadn’t even heard an animal rustle in the trees. It was if they were they only two people alive. He found he didn’t mind that fact. It was obvious he was willing to follow you anywhere.

You opened the door of the cabin and ushered him inside. The intoxicating scents of lavender filled his nostrils, the sensation making his eyes roll into the back of his head. He suddenly felt buzzed, as if he’d downed several shots of whiskey. His senses felt dulled and heightened all at the same time. He was entranced by you, by this place.

Orange flames burned in the fireplace, illuminating the space. An old table with two chairs sat near a makeshift kitchen, herbs and flowers hanging from the window to dry out. A small sofa and a chair made up the living room next to the fire. A bookcase held rows and rows of thick, leather-bound books. The titles were too small for Negan to see from his spot near the door, but he could tell the spines were worn with time.

His attention was diverted to the back corner where a large bed sat. It was adorned in black sheets and a dark purple blanket. Black lace hung from the four-poster railings, surrounding the bed in a veil of darkness. Candles littered the surfaces of two nightstands, the wax falling downward onto the wood top to escape the heat of the flame.

“Here.” You appeared in front of him with a steaming cup of liquid. You’d removed your cardigan and flats, your shoulders bare and calling to him.

“What is it?” He asked, accepting the drink. He inspected it, but it looked unremarkable. He took an exploratory sip, the smell wafting up to him .

“Tea.” You answered, moving behind him to remove his leather jacket. He let you, as had become the pattern for the evening.

Your hands danced along his arms, inspecting his tattoos with curiosity. He remained still, taking small sips from the mug as you did so. He felt your touch run up his bicep and over his shoulders, caressing the chords in his neck as you explored. Your palm made contact with his bearded cheek and he nuzzled into the warmth.

“You’re very important, Negan.” You mused, moving a strand of out of place hair from his forehead.

“Of course I fucking am. I’m a leader.” He agreed, his smug attitude finally making a comeback.

You smiled at his response and took the mug from his hand. You placed it on the table behind you and moved back into his personal space. Your hands gripped at his white t-shirt, your body pressing into his.

“That’s not what I meant.” You whispered into his neck, lips grazing his flesh.

His body broke out into shivers at the touch of your lips. He could feel your body heat radiating from you, the thrum of your heartbeat echoing in his ears. He wondered if you could hear his too with the way it was pumping.

“You have a purpose. I want to show you what that purpose is.” You pressed your lips against his suddenly, your tongue demanding permission to explore him.

Negan gripped your hips in return, matching your ferocity with his own. You tasted as good as you looked and he couldn’t get enough. He affixed himself to you, pressing closer as you threaded your fingers through his hair. Your breasts pushed into him and he responded with a thrust of his hips into yours. You pulled your mouth from his, peppering his neck with sensual kisses and determined bites.

“My purpose to fuck you? Because that’s about to fucking happen, doll.” He gritted through clenched teeth as one of your hands brushed his fast-hardening cock. He hissed as you bit down particularly hard on his neck and then lapped at it with your tongue seconds later.

You reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling the fabric up and off in record speed. Negan threw his head back as you assaulted his chest with your mouth, your hands playing with the clasps of his pants. The roaring of extreme arousal was making itself known inside of him and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off.

His hands ventured beneath your nightgown and up your bare thighs, colliding with the white scrap of lace that hugged you. Your skin felt smooth, unblemished; as if you hadn’t spent all these years fighting for your life like everyone else. Your aroma was calling to him, making his mouth water and his control wane. He palmed your ass, gripping your flesh with a needy hunger. You moaned into his ear at the action, seemingly pleased with his touch. The air was thick with sexual electricity and Negan knew he wasn’t going to be able to leave this cabin until he had you.

“The bed.” You ordered, your voice coming out low and raspy. It was sexy. Your desire for him so strong that it literally poured from your lips.

Negan steered you both towards the satin and lace fortress, the bed a beacon in a midnight thunderstorm. You stopped him once the back of your knees made contact with the mattress, your lips finally pulling away from his chest and neck. He was sure he had at least a dozen fucking hickeys littering his skin by now.

He waited as you stared up at him, his hands still clutching the globes of your ass. You surprised him by cradling his face in your hands, the moment suddenly becoming intimate. Your eyes held a distinct spark, your lips a knowing smile. It was if you knew something he didn’t…a secret.

“You’ve been through so much pain.” You stated softly, fingers caressing the crow’s feet near his eyes.

He looked down at you with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, unsure of where this was headed. He could see the conviction behind your eyes, as if you really could see the voyage he’d taken and the trauma he’d been through. It made his hair stand on end.

“I can fix that for you.” You stated calmly and confidently, as if you had all the answers to his questions.

He noticed for the first time that your nails were painted a deep red as you ran them across his kiss-swollen lips.

He smirked at your antics, feeling a break in the haze. “Fix me? Hate to break it to you, doll, but I’m a lost fucking cause. Have been for a while.” He teased with a wink.

He felt like himself again as he ran a calloused and scarred hand around to your lower stomach, grazing the waistband of your panties. You sucked in a breath when he traced your lips through the delicate fabric, feeling the moisture that had already begun to collect. His lust ratcheted up again at the touch of you and he rubbed himself against you in response. Your nipples were distinct peaks against the flimsy fabric of your nightgown and he yearned to wrap his lips around them and suckle like a newborn to its mother’s. He’d fucking live between your perfect breasts if you’d let him.

“I’m going to give you what you need, Negan. I’ll make you better.” You whispered as he took his turn to devour the flesh of your neck.

He smiled against you, entertained by your idea of pillow talk but not fully comprehending it. He didn’t give a shit what you said at this point. His dick was so fucking hard that he had to bury it inside you soon before he combusted.

“Well, since you’re offering…” He pulled back, eyes locked with yours as he pushed down the straps of your gown. “Let me see that glorious fucking body.”

You allowed him to move the fabric down your figure and over your hips, revealing yourself to him. He immediately attached himself to your tits, both mouth and hands working in tandem. Your hands pulled at his hair, keeping him mounted against you but shuddering away in sensitivity. Negan chased you with his lips, intent on marking you like you had him.

He reached a hand between your bodies, impatient with the pace. His gaze followed every curve and soft line of your body, still in awe of the perfection of your skin. It was flawless. You were flawless. A literal fantasy come to life.

Your hands were soon at his button, releasing the fabric from its hold and working it down his legs. He shed his boots quickly and stepped out of the garment, thankful he’d chosen to go commando. He watched you lick your lips at the sight of him and fuck if that didn’t make his balls tighten.

You sat down on the bed, positioning yourself so that he had a completely unobstructed view of the juncture between your thighs. He instinctually began to tug at himself while you touched yourself beneath your panties, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. He made it to you in two steps, a hand hooking your ankle and jerking you closer. He ripped the fabric away from your body, catching how soaked the material had gotten. You were fully nude now and practically glistening. He could almost see your pussy throb as he got onto his knees. He hovered there for a moment, taking in the scene. Your scent, your touch, hell, even the sound of your soaked channel. He savored it all.

“Negan, please…” You pleaded and damn did it feel fucking amazing to hear you call his name like that.

“You need me, doll?” He let a finger lazily play with your clit, enjoying the way you jumped at the contact.

“Yes, please…” You begged again, unashamed of your neediness. He liked that. He liked seeing you lose your composure. That shit was fueling him.

He relented and sucked harshly at your pulsing bud, his touch unforgiving. His lips kissed you while his tongue tasted you. He explored you, using his fingers to pry you open to his attack. Your thighs clenched around his head as your body arched off the bed. The candles reflected off your skin and he became awestruck by the image.

He fed on you, his appetite for you far from satiated. He welcomed your flavor on his tongue as he probed your opening, teeth nipping at your swollen lips. You yelped and jolted away, but he held you to him. He felt that drunk feeling again as he quite literally immersed himself in you.

“Don’t stop. I’m gonna cum.” You breathed out, head thrown back and hands struggling for purchase against the smooth sheets.

Negan had no intention of stopping. Instead, he doubled his efforts and ravaged you, seeing the prickle of pain flash across your features from his ruthlessness. You continued to hold his head to you as he attempted to drink every drop that poured from your lips.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes…” You chanted as your body rippled and convulsed with tremors. Negan caught every single one with his mouth, his eyes taking in the way you moaned and writhed. Your skin was slick with perspiration, your lungs rapidly taking in air as you slowly came down from your journey to space.

He stood, his whole body tense in untamable lust. He could feel the dribble of precum on his cock, the appendage begging for attention. He wedged himself between your thighs and submerged his cock in your overflowing dampness. He rutted against you, feeling you reach up to catch him in your folds. He dug his fingertips into your thighs as he let his cock nudge your abused clit. You winced at the oversensitivity.

“Fuck, I need to be inside this fucking pussy.” He growled, recognizing the tingle in his spine starting to form.

Negan didn’t wait for a response as he plunged inside of you, groaning at the instant surge of pleasure at finally being able to do so. He felt your heartbeat within your walls as it thrummed against his cock, squeezing him just right. It was as if you were made just for him. The way you hit every one of his nerves in the most delectable way possible made it seem as if you’d been sculpted for him, a genuine counterpart.

“Shit, that is one tight cunt.”

He moved slow and deep, treasuring the sensation of your body so effortlessly enveloping his. His hands were everywhere as your body became his playground. He held your tits, relishing the way they bounced to the rhythm of his hips. He grasped you throat and squeezed as you moaned for more. He took in the way your body so readily accepted his own, your pussy slickening him for his passage. It all felt fucking perfect. Perfect in a way he’d never experienced before.

“More…I need more.” You demanded, trying to reach for him.

Negan was happy to oblige and bent down to hover over your awaiting mouth. Small gasps escaped your throat as he continued to fuck you, the sound like music to his ears and pulsing dick.

“This what you wanted? This enough for you?” He grunted, angling his hips so that he could feel the natural barrier within you. He heard you whine and drag your nails down his back, the depth of his cock making you want to retreat.

“No, no…take it all, doll.” Negan tutted, forcing your body up the bed as he moved. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your teeth digging into his shoulder. The move sent a jolt through his system and he increased his speed. His hips slapped against your roughly, the loud smack of skin echoing throughout the room. He could feel his balls tightening and his limbs tingle. He wasn’t ready for it to end. He wasn’t ready to separate from your warmth just yet.

He straightened up, bringing you with him. Your body was pliable with his movements, letting him maneuver you how he saw fit. He lifted you into his arms, still impaled on him. He captured your mouth, walking to the head of the bed. He situated himself on the mattress, you still cradled in his arms. Without him having the leverage to thrust, you took it upon yourself to slide up and down on his engorged cock. He faltered at the motion, but recovered in time to position you in his lap.

“Ride me. Let that pussy take what she needs.” He nipped at your bottom lip as he encouraged you to move, slapping your ass in the process.

You didn’t hesitate. You wrapped your arms around his neck and bounced, chasing that ethereal high. Negan buried himself in your breasts, feeling that inebriated sensation start to strengthen. He gripped your hips, anchoring himself to something solid. He felt as if he might float away if he didn’t. He felt entirely too warm and the need to cum was more powerful than any other experience he’d had. His vision felt blurry, yet he could make you out perfectly. He could smell you and only you. Not the fire or the lavender anymore. His ears were attuned to your moans and whimpers, but silence lingered outside of that. He felt like he was in a vacuum of your essence, trapped but not wanting to escape.

“Yes, Negan…please cum.” Your words made him thrust up into you, eager to comply with your breathy request. The tell-tale signs were there. He was ready to let go.

Through the fog he belatedly realized he needed to pull out, not wanting to chance it. He readied himself to remove you from his lap when he felt you clamp down and hold him, your intent obvious.

“It’s okay. Do it. Fill me up.” You nibbled on his ear, tongue tracing his lobe as you massaged his cock with your walls. He went to protest, but stopped. The words died on his lips, his body now running the show. He only thought about you and how fucking magnificent you felt. He thought about how good it would feel to smear you in him. To see you leaking and dripping. The thoughts alone were enough to convince him that he should listen to you.

Your finger teased your clit as you rode him, urging him on. Negan gritted his teeth at the feel of your pussy spasming, your entire body ricocheting with the aftershocks. He surrendered to you and released, your pussy greedily taking from him as he tensed in orgasmic bliss. A hum of approval left your lips at the feel of him driving his seed into you, the warmth and stickiness coating you both.

“Fuck,” He cursed as he screwed his eyes shut. He felt like he’d been pumping for hours, the high lasting a lot longer than he’d anticipated. He felt overcome with exhaustion as he collapsed on the bed, your body still a place holder for his now flaccid cock. He looked up at you as you straddled him, a halo of candlelight encompassing you. He panted as he struggled to catch his breath while your nails dragged through his chest hair. You laid your head on his chest near his heart, your body rising in sync with his.

He was drained. Utterly and completely. He adjusted himself beneath you, feeling his cock slip out of you and land heavily between you. You rubbed yourself against him, his cum aiding the movements. His mind said no more, but his body was responding.

“Doll, this old man needs to rest. I think you broke my dick.” He groaned, feeling aches start to settle into his limbs.

You laughed, your body vibrating against his. “Doesn’t feel broken to me.” You quipped as you traced a finger over the twitching member.

He laughed, despite his fatigue and trailed a hand down your naked back. “You’re something else.”

“Good or bad?”

“Can’t decide yet. But my dick points to good.” He joked, liking the throaty laugh you released at his words. He could feel his eyes getting heavy and that distinct lethargy that came with sleep. He didn’t bother to move you from atop him. He liked your weight nuzzled against him, feeling the beat of your heart with his.

“Sleep.” You said into his chest as you placed a soft kiss near his ribs.

Negan nodded, though he was already halfway into his dreams by the time you spoke.

*******************************************

A loud knock jolted him from his slumber.

Negan sat straight up in his bed, eyes dancing around wildly in search of the intruder. He took in his bedroom skeptically, wondering how he’d gotten back.

Another knock sounded, followed by a call from the beyond the door.

“Boss? You in there?”

It was Simon. And he sounded strangely concerned.

Negan stood from his bed, groaning at the protests his sore limbs were giving him. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and thanked whoever the fuck that he at least had clothes on.

He pulled open the door and came to face-to-face with a worried looking Simon. The man’s own remaining hair was somewhat tousled and his mustache looked uncharacteristically unkempt. He looked like he’d been running his hands through it all day, an action Negan knew he didn’t partake in unless he was nervous about something.

“What is it? What happened?” He demanded, knowing there was something he was missing by the look in his friend’s eye.

He waited as Simon seemed to take him in, appearing to be relieved by his presence. The whole thing was making Negan feel weird.

“You okay? We were worried about you.” The man finally admitted, hand back in his thick moustache.

Negan arched a brow in question. “Worried? Why?”

“Its past noon. You never sleep this late. We didn’t hear from you and got nervous something happened.” He explained, gaze still inspecting Negan closely.

Negan widened his eyes at Simon’s words, not believing what he was saying was true. He raced to his nightstand and grabbed his watch, feeling a sense of déjà vu. The timepiece read back 12:15. It was still working and didn’t appear to have stopped at any point during the night.

He looked back at Simon, perplexed by his unexplained tardiness. He was just about to question his friend more about it when he remembered the previous night. The memories came flooding in like a busted dam. He saw you in that damn nightgown. The cabin in the woods. You riding his dick like a fucking prized pony. It all soared to the surface and through the fog that still littered his mind and body.

“What the fuck happened?” He mumbled to himself as he rubbed at a particularly sore spot on his shoulder. Had to be where you fucking bit him.

“You good, Boss? Need anything?” Simon interrupted from his spot in the doorway.

Negan went to dismiss him, but thought better of it and nodded. “Yeah, find me that girl from the marketplace. The one with all the lotions and shit.”

He waited for a yes sir from his right hand man, but never got one. He met Simon’s confused gaze and went to describe you further when the Savior spoke up.

“What girl? I don’t know anyone like that.”

Negan sighed, trying hard not to take his mounting frustration out on his friend. “Yeah you do, shithead. You bought some lotion from her for your bum shoulder.”

At his blank stare, he continued.

“I spoke to her yesterday. You were fucking there. Struggling to flirt with Meredith at the table with all the shitty DVDs.” Negan explained, attempting to jog Simon’s memory. It didn’t seem to be working.

“We didn’t go to the market yesterday.”

“Yeah, we fucking did.”

“No. I was at The Kingdom yesterday while you went to the northeast outpost.”

Negan shook his head, unable to comprehend what Simon was saying. There was no way that was true. He remembered it as clear as day. He remembered you. Simon had to be wrong. And Negan was going to prove it to him.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Simon asked, that worry gaze back and aimed squarely on him.

Negan waved him away, searching his room for his boots, jacket, and Lucille. “Yeah, fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Simon hesitated, but he could see that Negan wanted to be alone so he complied.

Negan checked the calendar on his desk, his diligence when crossing off the days a daily ritual. He found the last day that was crossed out.

Halloween.

He wasn’t tripping fucking balls. He had his days right. Now he just had to find you.

**************************************

One month later…

Negan rubbed tiredly at his eyes, wishing he’d worn his reading glasses. He sat at his desk, studying the maps of each community who fell under his territory. It was late and he’d been staring at the goddamn things for hours, though the action was pointless. He wasn’t focused. Hadn’t been since that day a month ago.

He’d never found you.

Thirty days later and there still wasn’t any sign of you, your booth at the market, or your cabin in the woods. He’d had men out looking. Chasing a fucking ghost.

No one knew of you. No one had any recollection of you. Except for him. And it was fucking torture.

You were his elusive seductress, his enchantress. You were all he could think about. You dominated his thoughts, his dreams. Sometimes he felt as if he could still feel you beneath his fingertips. Hear the melodic tune of your pulse against his. A random breeze of lavender would sweep over him, carried by the wind. But you never materialized.

He knew he hadn’t made you up. He knew you weren’t some sort of fever dream. He’d had the marks on his skin to prove it. Scratches down his back, bites along his neck and chest, and the sore limbs from hours of fucking to prove it.

But the more days that passed, the more his memory failed him. His mental image of you faded over time, along with the bruises and scratches that littered his flesh. You were becoming lost in the everyday bustle and he didn’t know how to stop it. He had to give up searching for you, fearing his followers would start to think he was losing his fucking mind. His men already thought so. Simon practically had a straitjacket picked out for him.

All he could do was keep an eye out for you when he went beyond the fences. He searched everywhere, under the guise he was looking for supplies. It was pathetic really. He didn’t even know your fucking name.

His watch beeped from beside him, alerting him to the new hour.

12:00 am.

He decided to turn in for the night, done with tormenting himself. He stood up and stretched, hearing the satisfying pop of several joints as he did. He made his way to the window to take one last cursory glance to ensure everything was as it should be. He noticed something odd immediately. He felt like he did that night…wired but sluggish. It was a combination he could never forget.

Looking out into the night he realized how dark and empty the sky was, save for the new full moon that spotlighted the earth. Negan’s whole body went stiff as he searched for his guards. He couldn’t see anyone. It was dead silent.

A sudden warmth filled his body and a tingle started at the base of his toes. It was pleasant and started to move up each limb. He found himself succumbing to it, eyes rolling back the stronger it got. Suddenly and without warning, a crippling pain overtook his entire body. His bones felt like they were breaking and extending to unbearable lengths. His skin felt stretched and pulled tight, fighting to cover his expanding body. He yelled out in pain as his spine broke through his shirt and his legs jutted out of his pants. Long black fur soon covered every surface of him while his hands turned to oversized paws with jagged talons. His face felt like it was being seared off as it contorted into new features.

He collapsed to the floor on his knees, unable to take the agony. Simultaneously, his mind began to piece together the forgotten fragments. He saw you clearly once again as he relived your moments together. He saw your first conversation and the time at the cabin. He saw him worshipping your body over and over again throughout the night, your sweat-laced bodies slicking against each other. He saw your mind and the plans you had for him.

He saw everything.

“I can fix that for you.”

“I can give you what you need, Negan.”

“I’ll make you better.”

Your voice echoed in his ears, your true meaning now apparent. He felt a swell of testosterone rush through his veins, the appetite for blood suddenly all-consuming. He sniffed the air, smelling nothing but lavender. He growled, his hair standing on end as he felt you get nearer.

You were here and you’d come to collect.

He hunched on all fours, the pose feeling natural to him in this state. Unbridled lust mixed with frenzied rage, making his mouth salivate. His teeth were larger in size and sharper, his tongue running over them hungrily. The moon shone itself in his room and he instinctually howled. He felt a pull towards the window, outside the walls of the factory. He didn’t stop to think. He only acted. He rushed the window and burst through, scaling the wall as he made his way down to the ground. He landed on his hind legs, standing up straight to scent the air. Beyond the trees he could see a plume of smoke.

The cabin.

You were calling for him…waiting. And as he ran towards you, human nature now erased by animalistic instincts, he heard your final words to him from that night ring in his head.

“I’m going to give you what you’ve always wanted. You’ll be your true form. And I’ll be your true mate. By the light of the moon, you’ll fulfill your true fate.”

#negan x reader #negan x you #negan fanfiction #negan fic #negan twd #negan #negan fanfic

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chromecutie · 4 years

Text

Not A Ghost - part 40

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse.

NEW WARNING - fictional police brutality. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Masterlist on my profile!

Taglist: @emma-frxst @ra-ra-rasputiin @holamor @empressme-bitch @marvel-is-perfection @hazilyimagine @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash @whitewitchdown @master-sass-blast @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer @silver-stormy . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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During a particularly quiet night of Piotr’s vigil something hit the window hard enough to crack it. He was startled for an instant, but when the window cracked again, he got to his feet to see who or what was throwing things at the window. It was late evening and the fresh air that came in as he opened the window was welcome. To his surprise, Piotr looked down and found a visitor poorly concealed in the trees under the third story window.

“Juggernaut,” Piotr said.

The walking land mass of a mutant had a surprisingly non-threatening demeanor. The men watched each other carefully. After a moment of hesitation, Juggernaut asked, “How is she?”

Piotr was so taken aback by the question, he wasn’t sure how to answer. He glanced back at Rhonda, still sedated and breathing on a ventilator, but the beeping of the heart monitor was steady. The Russian replied, “My wife is nearly as unstoppable as you.” All things considered, it was true enough.

“She awake?”

Piotr gave a heavy sigh and shook his head, “Not yet.” He took a breath and paused, before offering, “I will tell her you came to visit.”

The Juggernaut gave - of all things - a thumbs up. “Will you tell her...tell her I said--”

“No promises?” Piotr finished his sentence.

Trees rustled in the breeze. “Yeah.” He gestured something like a wave, as if he wasn’t used to making friendly gestures.

As he turned to sneak away - as much as a mutant his size can sneak - Piotr said to his retreating back, “I think she will be happy to know you came.”

Ororo and Xavier headed up efforts to collect evidence and testimonies against the DMC. They brought in a brave attorney from Hell’s Kitchen who recognized the importance of bringing a big case against a government agency. They interviewed all the freed mutants from the Icebox about how they had gotten there, the conditions within the prison, and the behavior of the officers. They took careful photos of everyone’s injuries, the scabs and rashes around their necks left by the collars, and kept the discarded yellow jumpsuits as evidence. A certain reptilian woman and the man who stayed close to her at all times had slipped away right after they had given their interviews. No one knew how or when, but Mimi and Robinson were in the wind. The attorney was disappointed, as Edmund Robinson’s testimony as a former DMC officer was especially valuable, but he assured Xavier that he could find them again when they were needed most. Xavier arched a brow at this for a moment, as this attorney was blind, but he knew better than to underestimate people. "I'm sure you will, Mr. Murdock," he said. "Thank you."

When the injuries to Rhonda’s brain and lungs had improved enough to remove the ventilator, the doctors kept her sedated for another day. The whole time he had stayed with her, Piotr had kept careful tabs on what the staff were doing. He had more than once stopped nurses from accidentally giving her double doses of medication, as some nurses took better notes than others on their rounds.

Their friends visited every day. Ororo brought Piotr tea, coffee, fresh clothes, light meals when she could persuade him to eat. Hank met with the doctors and compared notes, even studying the effects the DMC control collars had had on the other mutants. Ellie was as heartsick as Piotr himself, and Yukio did her best to comfort them both, reminding them, “Hospitals are anxious places. We will all feel better at home, and we will get to go home soon.”

Xavier himself visited as often as he could. He asked Piotr questions about what happened, persistent without being overbearing. It was difficult to get Piotr to open up about it, but eventually he made enough euphemisms that Xavier guessed what he had seen his wife do.

Finally, Piotr admitted, “She was...deeply afraid she would no longer be welcome with us.” He held one of Rhonda’s hands between both of his, keeping it warm.

“Ah,” Xavier nodded somberly. “The first rule of our code - we do not kill.” He steepled his fingers and tapped them together. “As you know, our code is important to clarify for ourselves where we stand, what we value. Heaven knows the politicians and the news outlets are wrong about us more often than not.” He sighed and wheeled his chair around to Rhonda’s opposite side.

Rhonda’s fingernails were clean, but chipped and ragged - evidence from her fight that no one had thought to smooth out yet. Xavier wrapped his hand around her fingers, careful to avoid the IV line taped to the back of her palm. “Do you know,” he asked Piotr, “the first time I met her, it was in a hospital?” Piotr frowned for a moment, then nodded when he remembered. It was a story Rhonda had told him only once. Xavier continued, “I knew then that Rhonda was capable of killing, if she did not learn control and if circumstances pushed her to such. I like to think I trained her well, but nothing could have prepared her for what happened. All this."

Piotr’s silence was tense. The question burned at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t make it come out. Xavier didn’t seem in any hurry, content to sit quietly and reflect.

Finally, the old man said, “I have promised her before that she would always have a home with us. That won’t change.” He gave Piotr a dignified nod, and wheeled his chair down the hall, warmly greeting nurses as he went.

When Wade visited he usually had Cable with him, though once he had Russell tagging along. Russell was polite and gave Piotr his respects, promising that he was studying hard to qualify for the X-Men program. Cable, per usual, was almost as quiet as Piotr while Wade chattered away, making jokes that were hilarious to himself even if no one else laughed along. All joking aside, Wade was the one most likely to get Piotr to take a walk around the hospital, or even step outside to get some air, promising to stay with Rhonda until he got back.

“Don’t worry, big guy,” Wade teased, “If she wakes up, I’ll tell her I’ve always been her husband and you were a coma dream.” He snorted a short laugh, even as Piotr rolled his eyes and lumbered out of the room for a short walk.

Piotr had been gone all of six minutes when Cable felt the sleeping woman’s mind start to stir into consciousness. He sat bolt upright in his chair in surprise. “Wade,” he said quietly with a sharp tone, “She’s waking up. Go get him.”

Wade whined, “What? But I wanna do the thing, I wanna do my bit!”

“Now!” Cable growled. Wade hustled from the room, calling none too quietly for Colossus as he went, leaving Cable and Rhonda alone.

Slowly, she blinked her heavy eyelids open. It took a few moments before she could gather her wits enough to figure out her surroundings. Rhonda heard beeping, then realized there was tape on her wrists, the lights felt too bright, she saw the plain pale green blanket covering her, and finally saw Cable.

“Mornin’, friend,” he kept his voice low, but gave her a kind, bright smile. “Don’t try to move, here,” he pressed the lift control and the bed angled with a gentle whirring sound to support Rhonda in a sitting position.

Her gaze drifted over the room, still putting the pieces together. Finally, she realized the metal hand touching her shoulder was Cable, and not her husband. Her heart sank, and she croaked, “Oh.” She remembered Piotr had seen her kill several people, but she couldn't remember what happened after that. Had he dropped her off at the hospital and left? Her throat ached, and her mouth was so dry. There was a dull pain in her ribs that throbbed with each breath. As the feeling of raw abandonment started to swallow her, she felt the sticky sensation in her mind of Cable grazing her thoughts; she was still too groggy to resist.

“Hey, hey,” he put a cup of water in her hands and bent the straw for her. “Your husband’s here. We made him step out for a minute for a break, but he’ll be back any second now, okay?” He watched Rhonda’s brow furrow, processing what he said. “He hasn’t left your side the whole time you’ve been here - except when we made him.”

Piotr rushed into the room, Wade on his heels. When he saw his wife, finally awake after nine days, and sitting up in bed, his face lit into a bright smile. He exclaimed softly, “Rhonda!” The confusion and apprehension in her expression made him pause. He glanced at his friends, and Cable quickly took the hint and dragged Wade away, giving the Rasputins privacy.

“H-how are you feeling?” he asked. “Are you in pain? I can call the nurses...”

Rhonda took another sip of water before replying, “S-sore…”

Taking a step closer, Piotr’s smile faded with doubt. “Rhonda...I’m sorry I could not protect you.”

She thought hard, her brain still fuzzy. She had survived the Icebox - again. “I guess I managed,” her voice had a coarse rasp.

Slowly, he came closer and sat in the chair on her left side. He was fidgeting with the end of his pinkie on one hand. When he pulled his opposite hand away, he revealed the faux-bronze silicone ring he had given Rhonda, the same day the DMC had captured her again. It hadn’t even been two weeks ago, but their separation had felt like years all over again. Piotr held the band as if it were made of glass. Heart in his throat, voice heavy, he asked, “Do you still want this?”

Rhonda took a breath that hurt and asked, “Do you? I...you saw what I did.” She was fuzzy on some of the details of how she’d gotten out of the Icebox, but over and over she re-lived Piotr walking in on her electrocuting a handful of guards, and the look of revulsion on his face. She tried to say more, but she was already winded and was forced to pause to breathe a while.

“I want…” he started slowly, “For you to heal. I want for you to be happy. And I want to be part of that as much as you will have me.” He took some deep breaths and armored down. His blue eyes were glazed with tears and his beard needed a little trimming. He still handled the ring like priceless treasure. “Rhonda...I will always live with the regret that I did not search for you a little longer. I will always regret that I could not prevent the things that happened to you.” He sniffled and scooted the chair a little closer. “Whatever you want now, I will do all I can to help you get it.”

Rhonda took a shaky breath, head throbbing. She sipped the water again and said, “I want to go home. I want to eat your cooking. I…” she had to pause to breathe again. She wanted to dance, she wanted to stay close to her friends, to be surrounded by soft, warm things, and to never think of the DMC or the Icebox again. She pulled another sip of water.

He took a moment to swallow and breathe around the lump in his throat. He looked down at the ring as he turned it over in his fingers. “You should know...we brought home a lot of prisoners. So far, seven of them match missing person reports.” Piotr paused and watched his wife’s face as understanding dawned on her, “Sladkaya, that’s seven families getting reunited, seven people who were kidnapped by the DMC who can get their lives back. No matter what else you have done, you are also a hero.”

Rhonda struggled to breathe slowly and shallowly enough not to aggravate the pain in her ribs, but she was close to sobbing. Tears blurred her vision as she nodded. She reached for her husband, the love of her life, and in half a second his arms were around her. His beard tickled as he kissed her forehead, her lips, her cheeks.

As much as Rhonda had grappled with shame and doubt in the last few months, the reassurance she felt in his arms was a balm on her soul. Her worst fear hadn't come true. They could figure out everything else.

Later, when Rhonda could speak a little easier, she told Piotr some of what she remembered, asking him to fill in details from the rescue. Wade sat with them, and had the lung power and the energy to give much more colorful accounts than Rhonda could.

“By the way, uh,” Wade’s typically jovial demeanor evaporated, almost to the point of breaking out in a nervous sweat. Piotr could only recall seeing him nervous about one or two things in the time he’d known him, and it worried him. “In the Icebox, uh, Rhonda and I, um…”

Piotr waved a hand, “Wade, whatever it is, if it helped the two of you survive, you did what you had to do.”

Heaving the longest sigh in human history, Wade shook his shoulders, and then blurted, “I slept with your wife. I mean! We huddled for warmth? Nothing happened. We had loud sex - but it was fake--” he devolved into a lot of babbling. Piotr frowned, then looked at Rhonda, who gave a tired nod to confirm he was telling the truth. However, when Wade said, “It's okay, I didn’t even get hard!” is when Piotr finally had to speak.

“What?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, she’s uh...not my type?” Wade shrugged and turned to Rhonda, “Nothing personal.”

The Russian scoffed, then started laughing in disbelief. “Have you - have you looked at her? Did you even see her naked?”

Rhonda interjected, “Piotr.”

Wade’s babbling stopped short, face scrunched. Baffled, he replied, “Nnnno? Well - wait, no, we’re not counting when the Icebox goons hosed us down, right?”

Rolling his eyes with a big sigh, Piotr said, “Wade, I thought you would have taste. I thought you of all people would understand this--” he gestured at Rhonda as if she were a revered Renaissance painting, “Is objectively beautiful."

From her hospital bed, patched over in so many yellowing bruises and bandages she might pass for a shabby quilt, Rhonda gave a weak smile, “Honey, that’s really sweet, but I look and feel like microwaved dog shit right now.”

“Yeah,” Wade gestured in agreement, “Microwaved dog shit.”

As her husband started arguing with their friend in earnest, mentioning sketchbooks full of nudes he'd drawn, Rhonda sighed, “Okay,” and clicked the button near her hand for another dose of pain meds.

At the click, Piotr paused and asked, “Wait, are you hurting? Should I call the nurse?”

“No,” she said slowly, already getting drowsy, “but it makes me sleep and that’s my only way out of this conversation. Good night.”

By the time Piotr’s parents arrived to visit, Rhonda was in much better spirits and almost ready to go home. The older Rasputins, Alexandra and Nicolai, came into the room and chattered excitedly in Russian. Alexandra pinched Rhonda’s cheeks, touched her hair, kissed her head as she said, “[We missed you so much, sweet girl! All this time!]”

From the other side of the bed, Nicolai kissed her cheek and had tears in his eyes. “[We always hoped you would come home again someday, and here you are.]” He glanced briefly at Rhonda's tattooed arm, but when she covered it as best she could with the blanket, he dropped whatever he was going to ask.

Her in-laws had always talked to her as if she was one of their own children, and it was something that made Rhonda’s heart melt every time. “[I’m so glad you’re here. It’s great to have you close. Is Ilyana here? Misha?]”

“[She’ll be here soon,]” Piotr smiled from the foot of the bed. “[My brother is still away on a mission.]”

Alexandra clicked her tongue, tossing her head indignantly, “[Your sister in-law coming back from the dead isn’t a good enough reason to come back down from space, or the other dimension, or wherever it is my children go.]” She waved a hand dismissively, acting intensely annoyed for a moment, but she smiled and winked at Rhonda.

Rhonda’s face split in a grin and she started to laugh, but winced and held her side, just below her ribs.

Nicolai threw his hands up and turned to his son. He said dryly, “[I told you. You have to stop pinching her! She’s like a delicate lily in your hands.]”

The nonchalant mock-accusation made Rhonda laugh harder and she had to hold herself together - literally. “[Yup. All this],” she gestured to her generally injured self, “[he decided tickling me was a good idea.]”

Piotr rolled his eyes and shook his head at the ceiling, powerless against his parents’ innocent jokes, especially when his wife played along. “[You better hope I don’t tickle you any time soon.]”

“[Yeah, I won’t be able to run,]” Rhonda pointed at her feet. “[The doctor said…]” she fumbled for the right words in Russian before switching to English, “I might have nerve damage and I’m not supposed to put weight on them yet.” She performed a brave face for his parents, but her initial heartbreak when the doctor told her dancing was out of the question for a while was still fresh in Piotr’s mind.

“Ah, well,” Alexandra nodded sagely. “Doctors, they do not know everything. Perhaps you are too old to join the Bolshoi,” she playfully poked some fine lines near Rhonda’s eyes, “But we know you will be on your feet dancing again.”

There was a lull as they shared smiles, and Nicolai set his eyes on the Jello on Rhonda’s lunch tray, uneaten. “[Are you going to eat that, my girl?]” he pointed at the mass of blue cubes.

Rhonda nudged it toward him, “[Have it, please. I am so tired of Jello.]”

Alexandra scoffed and gave her husband a judgemental glare, before waving to her son, “[Come sit, Piotr, I have something for you both.]”

Smiling at his parents’ antics, Piotr did as his mother said and brought a chair up beside his father. Alexandra carried a large, utilitarian purse, and pulled from it an oval-shaped package wrapped in a Russian newspaper and twine. She had an excited twinkle in her eyes as she put it in Rhonda’s hands. “[This should be with the two of you,]” she said.

Rhonda smiled, but her brow twitched to a furrow with curiosity. She had Piotr break the twine, and when she folded the newspaper back she gasped. On her lap was a tray, painted black with beautifully brushed flowers and gold detailing. It was chipped and worn in a few spots, but in excellent condition considering it was about a hundred years old. “The zhostovo tray!” Rhonda’s jaw dropped. “I get to have this?” She held it to her chest and her eyes welled with tears even before Alexandra nodded, beaming.

With the tray across her lap, Rhonda lovingly traced the gold scrollwork with her fingertips, barely brushing the surface. There was a stark contrast between the aged, soft painting and the jagged lines of Rhonda’s X tattoos, but as she laid her hand flat on the tray, she had an idea.

#not a ghost #xmen fanfic #colossus x oc #piotr rasputin x oc #deadpool fanfic #deadpool

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sugagimmesugar · 5 years

Text

Only Fools Fall for You Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Just Namjoon.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 (In progress)

Finally he got a day off. He loved his life, his job, everything about being RM, but after months on tour, he really needed some time alone. All the members felt that way so they had parted ways right after breakfast. They had all tried to cook together, a rare treat of homeliness that as per usual ended up in chaos. The fact that they were cooking in someone else’s kitchen, since they were staying in an AirBnB, probably didn’t help either. Jin and Yoongi somehow managed to whip up something edible for all the guys, so they all left well-fed towards whatever they each had planned for their days.

Namjoon only wanted to discover yet another new town, so he spent the day wandering through the streets, occasionally popping into a shop for this and that.

This time, they had played a concert in Gothenburg, in Sweden, so the weather in Septembre was quite cold for his standards. Everybody in town was bundled up and covering their faces against the wind, so his features were easily hidden against the views of anyone who might recognize him.

After walking around town for a few hours, he decided to take a break at a record store that seemingly also had a little café and some seats where customers could listen to some of the albums for sale.

He found a table in a lonely corner and left his bag and jacket there “claiming” it for himself.

The shop was fairly empty, as to be expected on a monday in septembre. So he didn't worry about being recognized, and just went on to browse the endless shelves of records. With a low chuckle he discovered the “K-Pop” section. It was obvious that K-Pop had not quite reached this country yet, no matter how huge it already was in other parts of Europe. The “section” only consisted of one shelf which was 90% BTS and then some BlackPink. He quickly moved on to the more general selection, getting stuck, as always, on Rap.

“Hej, behöver du nån hjälp?”, he hears a voice behind him.

“Huh, sorry?”, he turns around, slightly startled by the store’s clerk, a girl around his age.

“Oh, sorry! I just asked if you need some help? Are you looking for anything in specific?” She smiles broadly, and as his surprise ebbes off, he notices more about her, the vintage jeans and red converse she’s wearing. Suppressing a laugh, he notes the sweater she’s wearing, which sports a print saying “Seduce and Destroy”.

“Haha it’s fine, I am just looking around a bit. You guys have a huge selection here so I’m just taking my time. Thank you, though.”

“Ok sure, just holla if you need something.” A short pause …..”Oh, by the way, I moved your stuff behind the counter …. a group of teens came in and you can never be too careful. So, yea, don’t worry it’s not stolen, just protected.”, she smiles at him again, his breath catching in his throat.

“ Ah, I didn’t think of that, thank you!”, trying to think of things to say to keep her in a conversation, he blurts out: “What’s your favourite artist? I have been looking through the collection here but still ended up with my old faves, I think I need some new jams. Any recommendations?”

She laughs, and looking around the store she heads straight for the pop section.

“Okay, now don’t be judgemental but this dude right here, Troye Sivan, he is incredible. I saw you with Kanye and Eminem albums so I reckon Troye is a bit different from what you usually listen to, but i recommend him 100%!” She holds up an album “Blue Neighbourhood” and another one “Bloom”.

“I will check out whatever you recommend, you’re the pro!”

“I’ll set up a listening booth for you with his albums and bring you back your stuff.”, she grins triumphantly. “As I said before, just holla if you want or need anything else.”

A few minutes later he is set up in a booth, just as she said. To top it off, he got some coffee.

Coincidentally, from his booth, he can see her workplace, the bar that is half register half café bar, so he (not-so-sneakily) watches her as she works, interacting with customers and shooting him the occasional smile or even wink.

As the music stops he realizes he didn’t even notice any lyrics or melodies, too entranced by the cute barista/clerk. “Ah shit…” he mutters to himself, trying to figure out how to restart the album as she comes walking over.

“What did you think? His voice is pretty amazing, huh?”

“Unfortunately I was a bit distracted, I didn’t manage to catch much of the music.”

“Oh sorry, that must be my fault, huh?” Another wink. It must be his lucky day.

“How ‘bout you join me at the bar. I can just show you some general recommendations and if you want you can show me some of your faves. Maybe something more interesting than Kanye and Eminem?”, she smiles at him again.

Is she flirting? No, it’s her job to be nice to customers, she is being cute for tips.

“Sure, show me all your favourites. I promise I will buy one album from your recommendations. I’ll finish my coffee and then I’ll join you.”, he smirks.

Whatever this is, a proper flirt or just a nice store clerk, he is having fun. And that’s what today is about. He already bought way too much stuff just by getting lost in all the different shops, he might as well spend his afternoon hanging out with a cute girl. Not RM, not the leader of BTS. Just some guy who likes music. Easy.

As he is sipping his coffee, he pulls out his phone to check what the others are up to.

Hobi: “Why the FUCK is it so cold here?”

Jin: “We are in Scandinavia, if u didnt notice. It’s cold here….”

Tae: “Stop being a pussy Hoseok” *image attached of the maknae line eating ice cream by the seashore*

Hobi: “….”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh, everything is as usual. Yoongi has sent him a rough mockup of a track for the next album and he plays it while checking the personal chats with the other members.

JK: “Hyung where r u”

JK: “We are somewhere at the seashore, Tae just kinda went off track somewhere….”

JK: “turns out we were just like 1 street away from a bus stop so, uh, no need to worry… we found our way to some ice cream”

JK: “since i can see youre not even reading these i guess youre having a good time. Cya”

He rolls his eyes, of course the youngest ones almost got lost in another foreign country. He quickly types an answer.

Looking up from his phone, he catches Her staring at him. She winks at him and pats the bar in front of her. He shoots her a quick smile back and gets back to checking in on the guys.

Yoongi: “new track mayb w jin & hobi??? U decide”

Joon: “ sounds good, we can work on it together when we get back”

After checking that the members are having a good day, he quickly takes some selcas to post for ARMY later.

“Done sending selfies to your girlfriend?”, the girl smiles at him as he sets down his bag at the bar, taking a seat right in front of her.

“No girlfriend, just…. family. They always want to see that I am having fun no matter where I am.”

“How sweet! Well, if you promise that you don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend I’ll introduce myself. I’m y/n. I am a student here but originally from y/h/c. Nice to meet you!”, her eyes sparkle as she smiles at him again, and he almost forgets to answer.

“I’m Namjoon, I’m visiting here from Korea for a few days.” He holds his hand out but exactly at that moment a customer comes to the register, so she turns away with an apologetic look.

She returns a few minutes later: “How ‘bout I put on my favourites on the store radio and you make me a little playlist of yours so I can check out what hot korean boys listen to. Show me some stuff I don’t know yet!” A small laugh and she bounces off again, fixing two coffees and soon he hears a synth riff playing on the speakers.

With a wide grin y/n comes twirling towards him, holding two iced coffees. Before he can think he is grinning at her and bouncing along to the music.

“This one’s on me, Namjoon. Don’t worry.”, she says as he holds out his card.

“I guess I am gonna have to buy you a drink later to make up for it.”, he laughs and takes the coffee.

Leaning on the bar, she watches him click away on his phone with a smile. His playlist slowly takes shape as he keeps stopping to properly listen to her music.

“Oh, wait! I just remembered, I actually know one korean artist, maybe you like his stuff. Let me just put it on for you.” A few seconds later he hears the notes he would recognize anywhere and almost bursts out laughing.

*we’re born in the moonlight… ain’t a fantasy*

#only fools #bts suga #bts rm #bts jiin #bts jungkook #bts jin #bts jhope #bts taehyung #bts v #btsnamjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #bts imagine #bts fanfic #rm x reader #rm x y/n

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anokayblogaboutdating · 5 years

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the use of liberalism to attract my liberal ass

holla out to all my liberal ladies out ttttthhhhhheeeeerrrrreeeee!

can I hear you say “don’t reel me in with your socially conscious views to get laid”

yeaaahhhhhhh!!

so I went out on a date on Sunday, in fact I actually went out on TWO dates on Sunday but the second one is going to be a different post. this story is kind of funnier anyway so you’ll enjoy it, I promise.

I was feeling pretty damn confident: two dates in one day, living my 20s, bein’ a cool, single lady. For the first date, we were going to meet at a hip coffee shop in a trendy part of town. It was a bit of a drive for me but I didn’t mind because he had been very funny and charming, making clever jokes and complimenting me through message. He also seemed like he had some pretty solid perspectives on feminism and the patriarchy (often referring to himself as a “straight white dude” in a self-aware way). In retrospect, a very dumb thing to be THE thing to be sticking out as attractive but alas, this is why i’m writing this so just stay with me girlfriend, we will GET THERE.

One thing I want everyone to remember about this is that we are meeting in the morning (11am) and we are in a coffee shop. Very important details. Continuing on...

I always get to dates early from tinder/bumble/hinge because I hate the idea of having to be the person who recognizes someone from their picture, second guess myself, feel awkward in the space. A long explanation to essentially say, I get there, get settled, order my drink etc. so I don’t have to be an anxious wreck.

He walks in.

He waves and stands in line for coffee.

He’s cute! I message all my friends in our group chat, almost a live tweet if you will.

“He’s so cute!!!”

“OMG GIRL GET IT” or something like that from all my friends who see it.

Okay, good boost of confidence. Put my phone down, he sits down with his coffee.

We got along GREAT. I brought up I had started watching season 3 of queer eye and we chatted about it for probably a good 20 minutes. We agreed season 3 has a bit of a more “manufactured” way to it than the previous seasons. We talk about loving the episode with the black lesbian.

We talked about film, and very niche film at that! I was super impressed at his knowledge. We talked about his cool job that allows him to travel and camp all over the world. He’s an educated, intelligent guy.

Then, we talked about housing, how expensive it is, la la la, oh he lives near by? do I want to go check out his place?

He made it clear he wasn’t “trying to make a move or anything”, he insisted he just has an awesome place and wanted to show it off. He did have cheap rent, I was curious.

Now I know what you’re thinking. You idiot. I know. But in my defence I wasn’t going in totally oblivious, I knew the situation could evolve but I sort of believed him that it wasn’t a move because he seemed so LIBERAL and would not POSSIBLY ***LIE*** to another liberal! Liberal codeeee bro!

Anyway, it was a lie.

We were sitting on his couch, apart but facing each other, he brewed me bengal spice tea, we chatted about music, he put on his record player (damn, he’s a good little hipster boy). Very friendly conversation.

Suddenly, he was closer, he was footsie-ing me, his hand was on my thigh, it was moving up my thigh... WHOA WHOA WHOA... I moved back. I laughed, uncomfortably. He said “Oh, sorry! I don’t have to... ah..”

I cut him off- “it’s okay! I’m sorry”(dammit why do women always appologize for men’s stupid actions)

he sort of took that as an invitation to keep going. and to be honest, I did want to kiss him so I leaned in. It was enjoyable at first! Although he did have a slobbery kiss which is just too much on a Sunday morning.

but then it kept going farther and farther. I realized his intention was not a cute make out sesh.

suddenly his hand was in my bra some how and I was at his mercy on his couch. I stopped, and I forced him to eat some honesty pie:

“if we go farther, will you ever call me again?”

he backed off: “honestly, you’re cute and I will probably call you once or twice but with the lay of my life, I can’t be committed to anyone”

“uh huhhhh”

He says, “I guess we should just call it right now then”

“yep”

I leave his okay-looking bachelor apartment and we go our separate ways.

Here’s what I think. I know i’ve painted him in a pretty bad light at this point, but I don’t think this guy is a bad human being, rather, radically unaware of his own privilege as much as he pretends to be a cool, liberal guy.

Here’s what bothered me the most about this:

1. on my profile on hinge, I clearly have “looking for... Relationship” he just ignored that...

2. he invited me to get COFFEE in the MORNING on a SUNDAY(god’s day...)

He reeled me in with his liberalism to get me to sleep with him.

I think the moral of this story is, never go over to a boy’s house on the first date (I broke this rule twice in one day, read next post for more details) and also to remember that someone’s political introspection does not make them holier than thou or even interesting! This was a dude who proved himself to be unkind, rude and a liar, all in one fell swoop. Not really who i’d want to date anyway.

All in all, I wasted about two hours of my time and had to deal with excessive slobber for a good 15 minutes. (god I hate bad kissers) .

It’s a story for the ages.

I’m going to end the post here because it’s getting too long and it actually relates to date number TWO and I will elaborate more on political views and dating in a more meaningful way (but still with dumb jokes, don’t worry).

END OF PART ONE... PART TWO COMING SOON!

#tinder #bumble #singleladies #single ready to mingle #single #dating

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justasmallbloginabigklainefandom · 6 years

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Rec This Thing: Interactive Introverts

Interactive Introverts in Amsterdam RAI, evening show on June 2nd

Story: Dan and Phil decided to give the people what they want.

My Story: Okay, fun fact, I bought my ticket on June 1st. When they first announced their tour, my friend Sammy immediately bought tickets for her and her sister and she asked me to come along.

I declined.

After all, I wasn’t that big of a fan of Dan and Phil and I decided that people who are actual fans of them could have my possible ticket. Fast forward a couple of weeks and I became fan of them and both shows were sold out. Yup. Bummer. Instant regret. Total sadness. So Sammy promised to tell me everything yada yada since I couldn’t go. Then just over 24 hours before the show, Sammy sent me a message that there were five seats left for €55.

Crap.

Okay, I decided to do it. Fuck work the day after. Let’s go. And boy, am I glad I did.

Rating (1 to 10): 9

Why?: QUITE DETAILED SHOW SUMMARY UNDER CUT, SPOILERS!

Alright, yup, I’m just going to write down everything, including the entire show. Or at least what I remember cause holla, this is done from memory.

Basically, we arrived in Amsterdam after a lot of panic because my bus didn’t drive so we were about to miss our train. I ran back home and yelled to mum to grab the car (called Snuit) cause HOLY FUCK MY BUS IS 6 MINUTES LATE AND WITH THE NEXT BUS I WILL MISS MY TRAIN FOR SURE.

But okay, Amsterdam. We got there around four? First we checked out the venue, which wasn’t hard to find because their matinee show had just ended, so we just had to follow the stream of fans who were leaving, and then we had dinner at this Japanese place. Then around 18:30 we were back at the venue. Only VIP was allowed to go in already, so we decided to buy merch. The place was packed, so they decided to already open the merch stand. Good thing we got merch (I got a poster) before the show, because other merch was sold during intermission and after the show. Almost no one got merch during intermission, because it was only 20 minutes long, and after the show the line was insane. Probably 2,5+ hours wait time.

We found our seats. We got split up. Sammy and her sister had a great seat (row 9) and I sat on the other side of the theatre in a balcony seat which was fucking great as well. They put on Dan’s playlist and that playlist was banging. Sometimes, Dan’s Siri interrupted. I mean, they were playing Hard Times when I entered the theatre- great start.

And of course they came on stage after Welcome To The Black Parade.

First we had a video kinda introducing danis not on fire and AmazingPhil and then they came in on a moving plaform. Like, their set was so minimalistic but also so great?

After the “Hello! Hi!” stuff they talked about being in Amsterdam (”Amsterdamn” - Phil) and how Phil is feeling a bit sick because he decided to eat tons of stroopwafels (strupwaffles, they called it). Dan called him out, because when you buy a pack of stroopwafels, they are obviously not supposed to be eaten at the same time.

Oh, and those poor foreigners aren’t used to shit ton of bikes in Amsterdam (or in the entire Netherlands tbh) so they were talking about how they almost got killed by bikers while crossing the road.

They were obviously telling us what to expect and all of that.

Then first, What are we not going to do. They acted out everything they were not going to do. I only remember the erotic roleplay, because they did cop roleplay and it was fucking hilarious (”Please be gentle with those handcuffs, I have sensitive skin” - Dan), and the part where they dressed up as their cute pastel versions.

Truth Bombs came next. Phil got asked something among the lines of: “What Olympic sport would Phil excel in?”

Keeping houseplants alive

I forgot.

SPORTS??? LMFAO!

(If anyone’s reading this… if you happen to know the missing parts cause you were at the same show, hit me up.)

Phil said something about how avoiding bikes in Amsterdam is a sport and then he procceeded to jump over the small hexagon on stage. He chose the houseplants.

Dan’s question was: “What is in Dan’s browser history?”

Fursuits (I think???)

I also forgot.

Something with Shrek

Which was ironic, because Shrek the Musical played at the RAI. I don’t remember what Dan chose.

Then, “How will they die?”

Demonetization

They fall off stage in a few minutes

I forgot….

Honestly, they kept talking about demonetization during the entire show. Every time they said something too raunchy, they’d say something like “We’re getting demonetized.”

I think the Simulator came next? Anyway Phil started out with ordering a unicorn frappuchino and he ended up being killed by Satan cause he tried make a deal with him to restore his twitter account after accidentally posting a sexy photo of himself in his pants. We cheered for Satan, and they kept reminding us of that during the entire show.

Dan was outside for once and got approached by a furry, did body shots of an otter, and ended up dying in an underground furry rave after he decided to use the ladies’ restroom.

After that, Phil synced us all as Linda, so hooray, we were all Linda. Now as Linda, we could continue to the magic trick and the audience participation. What is hidden in the mysterious box that Dan hid under his bed? Our three answers were: cereal, a panda, a fursuit.

I still don’t know how they did this trick. The box was unopened on stage all the time. Sammy and I first came up with this special electronic paper, but then we realised Phil gave it to audience members to rip it up and fight about it.

I only remember three questions asked during the Survey. There was apart about their favourite content and Dan was very happy to present it as a pie chart. Also “Do you think you know Dan and Phil?”

Yes

Who is Dan and Phil?

After joking about how all the parents answered the last answer, they noticed a small percent still answered no, and they talked about authenticity on YouTube and sure, they put themselves out there because they want to entertain people, but that they are still genuinely themselves and that they’re not faking it. But if you wanted to see the non-entertaining version of them, you’d be bored. (”On my sofa, with an overheated laptop on my crotch and a bag of crisps under my chin and me trying to eat them with my tongue cause I’m lazy” - Dan).

Then, of course the “Dan or Phil?” question and they presented the wheel and they made the most dramatic act one exit I’ve ever seen, and I am a Broadway fan.

During intermission, the two women next to me were talking about merch and I told them where to find it. Then I exited the theatre. Sammy’s sister bought Pringles and I bought M&Ms and the three of us were kinda shocked to see the queue for the merch stand. Those poor fuckers.

We went back to the theatre and I talked about the merch again, because I happened to know the whole merch stand and its prices by heart after looking at it for 45 minutes (hoodie €40, sweater €30, wristband €5, poster €10, Dan and Phil plushies €25, denim jacket €65, two t-shirts €20 and €25, keycord or whatever it is called €10, cap €15, woops I still know it).

Back to the show! Phil was on the wheel and Dan used a slingshot, a bow and arrow, and a bazooka. And afterwards Phil was showing off his ass while taking off that white body suit. He said he was dizzy and Dan dared him to jump over the hexagon again, but Phil refused.

Okay anyway the next thing I remember is the wholesome Daniel and X-Rated Lester part (”I’m already feeling naughty” - Phil). In the beginning they had this whole talk about authenticity and how they are still humans bla which was really cool. Since I am a recent fan, I completely missed the actual wholesome Daniel craze, but yeah, they talked about how they are actual people and sometimes, they don’t meet certain expectations of fans.

Also, at one point in the show, Dan was talking about God and he yelled “Spite me, daddy!” and I think it was around this moment. The entire crowd yelled.

Alright Dan had to sweet talk disturbing fan fiction, Hello Internet, and another thing uuuuhm. I don’t remember. Anyway, he kept saying “Oh for God’s sake!”, especially at the Hello Internet one.

Phil had to bad mouth cute animals, endless kittens (he failed), and ugh I have also forgotten his last one. The person who sent in cute animals sat in front of me and it was just absolutely amazing to see how happy she was to see her submission on screen.

Then the Dan vs. Phil friendship game. There was a lot of stuff, but I remember some. I can’t believe they shocked each other, but maybe that is because I’d read the Milgram Experminent earlier that week.

First, psychic connection. They both had to name the same number between 1 to 20 and they failed.

Then a dilemma. Dan got the dilemma: “Guest star in Infinity War 4 or Phil gets thrown in a pool of cheese?”

Phil had to choose between: “A billion dollars or Dan will never be able to see dogs again?” According to Phil, he’d buy two big airplanes and then merge them together for an ever bigger airplane.

Then the Dan or Phil or Rat. They both got it right. Phil just got a photo of something white, but he guessed that it was his own pale skin and Dan got some hairs and he guessed that it was a rat.

Trivia. Dan needed to name 3 pre-2008 Phil videos and succeeded. Dan thanked Phil for uploading his newest video about his his old deleted stuff. Phil needed to recall the kind of cake that Colin ruined and failed.

There was probably more to Dan vs. Phil but I am blanking. Phil got the big shock (”I’m Phil trash no. 1!″ - Dan).

Then the intimate moment. Or personal. Phil called it intimate and Dan just went “PERSONAL? DON’T CALL IT INTIMATE, IT’S PERSONAL” and then proceeded to point out that Phil has a degree in English language.

It was just so down to earth. There were three questions, and I remember two. The first person asked for an appropriate name for their zoo animal YouTube channel. I forgot the name they recommended, but they said it was great that this person had a clear theme.

I remember one person saying that she wants to be a singer but her parents want her to go into medicine and well first they were like “hey singing doctor!”. But they talked about how passion is important and how they both didn’t do what was expected and how they are much happier now (“Lawyer Dan is as awful as a singing doctor!” - Dan) but I unfortunately forgot the other two questions. It was just a really nice moment where both Dan and Phil just sat down to have a chat. Oh and they also talked about Phil’s apparent awful handwriting.

Then the power came back on and I think that is when the Awards happened? Glitter jackets af and a self-made statue (”Two naked men in bondage really represents Dan and Phil” - Phil, or something like that.)

The first category was: Best dressed pet as Dan and Phil.

A lizard wearing a flower crown while watching the video of Black Parade won.

A cat wearing Dan’s merch.

I don’t even know but it looked like Dan was riding Phil so that was that. I suppose it was a dog.

And then Most inaccurate expectation of the show

I fucking forgot first place.

Two hour long Hamilton reenaction with Chris Evans.

Them giving birth on stage.

Also the most annoyed parent was just incredibly funny. I remember the winners but hey I don’t feel comfortable just sharing their names cause… privacy. I know the winner sat on the second row and all kids were pointing at her and I guess Dan and Phil saw her and said: “This was probably the worst day of your life, thank you for sharing it with us!” “You probably thought you were seeing Shrek the Musical.”

And then back to the scripted part, aka the Big Finale. A dog video that has nothing to do with the show, PHIL’S DISS TRACK, Dan at the piano, and them singing a duet. This ain’t Broadway, but it was still kinda nice and just sweet.

And well, that is it. They runned around on stage, waving at everyone, saying goodbye. Then they stepped on their moving platform and they disappeared.

Some random things:

Phil kept calling a part of the set a “flap” which annoyed Dan.

Dan… just… couldn’t… stop… dabbing…

They hinted at a new gaming video that involves a lot of Dan’s screaming - coming next week.

So many pride flags in the crowd.

Phil and Dan sounds wrong.

There was one moment where a picture of Dan’s had pasted on a horse from My Horse Prince appeared with a text bulb saying “Ride me, senpai” but I don’t remember when that happened. I think before the Simulator?

Interactive Introverts kind of reminded me of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. There’s clearly a format and a script, but thanks to audience participation, no shows are the same.

But in all seriousness, as my friend Rowan @rothetree pointed out, the entire message of this show was about how Dan and Phil are just human. As Ro put it: “On a serious note, there’s a whole underlying theme to this show, which was them basically going “Hey, we’re real people, stop objectifying us"”. This felt so in line with what the three of us were talking about. Me, Sammy and Sammy’s sister had to endure a two hour train ride and we talked a lot about fandom’s perception on real life people they stan and how they sometimes reduce those people to the image they have in their minds.

Cause we were talking about stuff like real life shipping, and about how celebrities are being seen, and how the moment they do something the fans don’t like, you get all those moments of “X is not real anymore!”

Newsflash asshole, they are people with feelings, and just because you don’t want to see those feelings, doesn’t mean they don’t have them. For example, Sammy was talking about how one K-POP star basically got stalked at an airport and when he clearly showed his dislike of it, people were all “OH MY GOD HE DOESN’T LIKE HIS FANS HE IS SO RUDE HE’S NOT WHO WE THOUGHT HE WAS” and I gave the example of people saying Darren is “no longer himself” after he called out the people who are seriously threatening his fiancée and all that stuff.

Before the show started, we overheard two other fans talking about how they should come out bla bla bla, and just… no? That is so personal and we are not entitled to that at all?

To quote Ghostly, they are not our dolls. We can’t dress them up in whatever way we want.

I recently read I Was Born For This by Alice Oseman, which follows a band from the fans’ POV and through the band’s POV and how sometimes those things clash, and I feel like with Interactive Introverts, Dan and Phil wanted to show people who they are to avoid a clash like that. That’s why they kept talking about how they value authenticity, while they are aware of the fact that they are also putting on a show. Or how, when people have certain images of them, how unrealistic those images can be and that they cannot live up to the expectations, and therefore it is important for fans to realise that. The tagline is: “Giving the people what they want!” and they did that without having to change for the fans’ sake.

As Rowan (rothetree, not Rowan from the book I Was Born For This) said: "we don’t own their image or expect too much from them. Something about their interactions with us is changing in a really good way."

Because that exactly.

Since I am a recent fan and I got my ticket one day before the show, I wasn’t aware of the questions, but in the “Do you think you know Dan or Phil?” (as they said: or do you think we’re people putting up a whole show) I would’ve answered a solid “no”, because I always think it’s dangerous to say that you know a celebrity, but after this show, I’d vote “yes”, because the way they acted on stage and the way they conveyed their message of “yes, we’re putting on a show right now because we want to entertain you guys, but we still care about authenticity” was well done.

And that is what made this show so great and enjoyable. Yes, it was a show and there were scripted parts, but it was still very genuine.

Recommend?: Yes, please, just like TATINOF, put it online for sale!

#interactive introverts #ii spoilers #rec this thing #rtt: theatre show #dan and phil #dnp adam

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uberff · 7 years

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Chapter 21

Robyn

For the two minutes that Eric’s been here, I’ve been in his arms with tears rolling down my face. When I told him that all of the tests came out positive, he made his way over to my house. After Winter and Jaylen stormed out, I was by myself with no one to express my feelings to. While they were peeling off, E was pulling up. I mustered up a nervous smile and hugged him tight. I always felt safe wrapped in his arms.

“Whatever you wanna do, I’m with you, Rob.” He mumbled against my neck and I nodded as he rocked us from side to side in the middle of my living room. “Don’t give them negative thoughts no clout. Look at me,” I looked up at him and he swiped my tears away with his cold hands.

“If ain’t nobody else here for you, I’ma always show up ‘bout you. You hear me?” I nodded and looked away. He brought my eyes back to his gaze. “I’m serious, Rob.”

“Okay.” I whispered and he kissed my forehead. “You wanna talk to me about this game-plan we gotta set?” He asked and I shook my head. I just wanted to sleep, honestly. This shit has to be a dream.

“Why, baby girl?” He asked, walking me over to the couch.

“Eric, I’m scared. Everything in my life has been temporary. Literally everything and I’m scared that if I give you my all, I’ll be assed out again. This time with a baby, I don’t know what to do with a kid right now.”

“If you give me your all, I’ma match it. Fuck them niggas who realized that you was the truth the minute you walked out they lives. I met you a few months ago and I can’t fathom losing you now. You mean something to a nigga, I admit this shit is happening fast but we got the chance to create something beautiful together. If you not with it, let me know. I’ll slide you the bread and let you handle that.”

“I don’t want you to go. Meeting you was so refreshing but everything is happening fast and I didn’t mean for it to happen, I-“

“Baby, I was there too. We was gone in the moment, we could’ve been more careful but shit happens. My genes are strong and handsome as fuck, you that distraught that we about to have a shawty?” I smiled and leaned on his shoulder.

“No. If it would’ve happened later on in life, I would’ve been bouncing off the walls. It’s just that my business is just now starting up and we haven’t known each other for that long.”

“Miss me with that shit. If I’m interested, I’m an observant nigga. I felt like I’ve been knowing you for my whole life. Know your beautiful ass like the back of my hand.” He turned his hand over and I read over his tattoo. Loyalty.

“I’m an open book. I let everyone know too much.” I admitted and he put our foreheads together. “We gotta change that. Niggas take advantage of vulnerability. Ain’t nobody stepping over my baby mama no more.” He laughed and I smiled, hitting him softly.

“You’re not scared?” I asked and looked off into space. Thinking deep into the future. Is it a boy or a girl? What kind of mother would I be? My life is literally about to change forever.

“Lowkey. I have nieces and shit so I guess they’ve been practice this whole time. We gon’ figure it out together, baby. Don’t worry about nothing. I ain’t gon’ stop ya business grind, you got the whole nine months to keep snatching edges and shit.” He smiled and I mirrored it. “Gimme kiss.”

I held his face and pecked his lips softly. “From this point, I’ma have you and whoever in there.” He rubbed my flat stomach and put me on his lap. “For life, Robyn. Fuck everybody and they opinions on our dynamic.”

“Thank you.”

“We gon’ spend plenty of time getting to know each more. Your picky and perfect ass gon’ drive me crazy but I’ma love every second of catering to you.”

“Really?” I mumbled playing with his chain and overthinking again.

“Yes. I’m loyal to those I got love for.”

“Same but it all went to waste.”

“Charge up. You was loyal to the wrong ones. A real nigga here now.” He massaged my ass and a smile crept on my face when I saw his.

”Damn, you need me to fye you up? You sound stressed.” Qua asked as he sat up from my bed. I shook my head no, as he rose an eyebrow. He knew I’d never turn down a blunt from him.

“I can’t smoke.” I laughed, before I stopped once I realized that I had to tell him what was up with him. I didn’t know how he was going to react. I just prayed that it wasn’t like Winter’s reaction. Girl almost made me fight her ass. She was being hella judgemental, so I ain’t talked to her in weeks and I don’t plan on it.

“Why not?” He put his blunt back in his pocket. I sighed, scratching my head thinking of how this was gonna come out.

“I’m uh... I’m pregnant.” I said as I looked up at his face. He took his glasses off, giving me a look.

“Please don’t do that Qua, please don’t. You’re the only person I know that’s hella understanding, you never judge.” I begged as he sighed. When I say Qua never judged, he didn’t. He’d tell me whenever I fucked up or when I was in the wrong, but he’d never judge me. I could go out and get a train ran on me, and he wouldn’t judge me at all. He’d just be like, “aye, that’s yo business.”

“I ain’t judging you, a nigga just shocked. I gotta keep it a 100 witcha, though.” He shrugged, patting the spot next to him for me to sit on.

“Ain’t no point in trying to make you feel like shit, cause it’s already done but I’m disappointed, ma. You know I always told you to stay strapped.” He joked, but was still serious at the same time. I laughed because he always told me to keep a condom on me because now wasn’t the time for kids.

“But nah foreal, I ain’t even met dude yet. What if he a lame? How you know he gone be a good father? You finally got to open ya store, and I’m telling you now.. a baby hard work. You had a whole lotta’ goals to pursue before having a baby.”

“I know that.” He grabbed my hand, placing it inside of his.

“Just be careful, and start making smarter decisions. Congrats ona’ baby. How far along you is?”

“I haven’t went to the doctor yet, so I have no idea. Should be only a few weeks.”

“Whenever you go, let me know. You ain’t been hitting my line lately.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. I’ve been super busy.”

“You good, I understand. Hella people been hitting you up for they Valentines fits. People been hitting me up to try to get in contact with you.” I smiled.

“I love you so much, Qua. You’re always here for me. From the day I met you, you were so caring and concerned.” I hugged him as he laughed, wrapping his arms around me. He really had a big heart.

“Gotta be. You a sweet person and ain’t ever hurt a fly. Shit, you even taught a nigga a lot.I luh’ you too.” He squeezed me, before tickling me.

The only thing that could be heard were my loud giggles as I squirmed around, trying to get out of his hold. “Qua! Stop, oh my god!” I laughed, uncontrollably as he continued to torture me.

He finally stopped and let me catch my breath. “I’m bout to head out tho, shoot start at 11 AM tomorra’.” He stood up, embracing me into a big hug. He was so long that he had to bend down.

“Bye, be safe! Tell the boys I said hi.” I said as I watched him walk out to the car that his driver was picking him up in.

Next Day

“You just tryna see my dick, that’s all.” Qua said as I bent down to measure his waist. I rolled my eyes, playfully punching his skinny ass.

I was designing outfits for all three of them for one of their upcoming video shoots, and I was actually excited for it. I barely got to see Qua, so working with him would be dope. Fun as well, because they were always joking around. I knew exactly what I had in store for them.

“All done.” I smiled as I stood up. His collar on his shirt was fucked up, so I started to fix it up for him.

“You always getting a nigga right.” He laughed, looking down at me through his Gucci shades.

“Good, cause yo ass was lookin’ like Dracula wit’ dat’ damn colla’ up like dat’.” Offset said making everyone laugh except Qua. He was forever talking about somebody.

“So what time do I need to come tomorrow?” I asked as I grabbed my essentials. Qua stroked his goatee, thinking to himself before he spoke.

“Bout 9.”

“AM?” I questioned.

“Fasho.”

“Y’all better be providing breakfast.” I planned on sleeping in tomorrow, because I’ve been working back to back. On top of that, I had a doctor’s appointment after this.

“Yea, this sausage.” Set said, making Qua smack him upside the head. I ain’t even gone lie, I had to laugh at that one cause I wasn’t expecting that.

“You got a way home?” Qua asked as I shook my head no. I know I had to get a car, ASAP. I didn’t mind taking Lyfts here and there, but having my own car would be nice. Plus, I hated asking for things.

“No, I was just gonna call a Lyft.” I said as he gave me a look before taking my bags out of my hand, walking outside to his car. After putting my bags in his backseat, he opened the door for me an

“I’ll holla atcha’, Batman.”

“Bye, Upset.”

“Be smoo’ Robyn!” Take yelled out and I blew a kiss to him afterwards. He was so sweet, and always stayed to himself. It was cute.

Once everyone else left, I realized that Qua and I were still sitting in the driveway. I look over and him, and he looked deep in thought so I decided to not interrupt him.

“I gotta tell you some shit..” he spoke, taking my attention away from the Popeyes a few feet away that smelled really good.

“Tell me then.” I rose an eyebrow, as he looked nervous as hell. He was never nervous.

“I know we tried this shit befo- nah fuck it. Forget I brought it up.”

“Qua! You’re so aggy for that!”

“I’m sorry mama, I should’ve just kept it to myself. I’m throwed as fuck, and I ain’t tryna say some shit that i ain’t gone remember.”

By now, I already knew what he was going to say and I didn’t wanna be in that awkward position, so I just forgot about it like he asked me to. Well, it’s a little too late for that, because the rest of the car ride.. we were quiet and there’s never a dull moment with us.

Once I got back in my apartment, I noticed Eric sound asleep on the couch. I’m guessing my presence had woke him up, because he kept moving. “Hey, where you been at?”

“Oh, I was styling a few guys for their video shoot today.”

“Cool, I had just stopped by to make you some dinner but you took long as fuck, so I fell asleep. My bad.”

“Oh no, you’re fine. I’ll just make something quick.” I disappeared into the kitchen, looking inside of the fridge so that I could make a sandwich. As soon as I got my ingredients out, it took me out 10 minutes to perfect the sandwich. Once I was done, I put everything back and started to walk back into the living room to sit on the couch with E.

Biting into my sandwich, I moaned at the taste. This was the best meal I’ve eaten all day, to be honest.

“How was ya day?” He asked, bringing my feet on top of his lap to massage them.

“It was pretty smooth. I woke up super early, but they had breakfast which was great. Everyone was pretty easy to work with, so time went by kinda fast. What about you, babe?” He started to talk, but the way that sandwich just hit the spot and how good he was caressing my feet, bitch I was out like a light.

Jasmine

I was happy to be out that nerve wracking ass center, but I was hella irritated to be back at my bullshit ass job. I hated it here, but the money wasn’t gone make itself and I had bills to pay.

My dad spoils the fuck outta me, and he doesn’t even want me working, but that’s bogus to me. I ain’t bout to live off of his hard earned money, I can’t. I wanna be like him one day, and I know I have to start from the bottom to get to the top.

I know exactly what I wanted to do with my life, but I just didn’t know where to start. I can’t just quit my job, up and leave and go follow my dreams. Well, I can but shit ain’t as easy as 123, feel me?

I snapped outta my thoughts once someone came to my register. Looking up, it was the same guy that I had met from the center. Jaylen.

We had been talking for a couple of days, and he was cool as hell. Fine as hell too, but my daddy warned me about his type. I know he ain’t shit.

I started to wonder why he was even in such a fucked up place like the center. He seemed like a put together dude, but then again you can’t judge a book by its cover.

I️ was at the center for my anger/mental issues. It had nothing to do with drugs. If anything, them shits helped.

My dad insisted that I️ get help, and I️ did. Not only because he told me to, but because I️ wanted to. I️ was starting to become a whole different person, and I️ wasn’t feelin’ it. I’d yell, curse, everything in the book at people for the littlest reasons. I️ couldn’t go out like that anymore. Hell, I️ was starting not to like my own damn self.

Ever since I️ came to the center, I️ learned that the anger I️ had built up was from growing up. Growing up, I️ never really had support from my mother and everyone I️ thought that I️ could trust, turned on me. Everyone that said they’d always be there for me left. Eventually, a bitch like me just said fuck it and stopped caring about sappy ass shit like that and turned cold hearted. People hated it.

I️ hated it, but it was my only choice. I️ ain’t ask to be that way, but I️ was tired of people fucking me over. I️ got in too deep of that mindset, that I️ didn’t even recognize myself.

I️t all started with my mom. I️ hated that bitch. As I️ started getting old enough to notice things, I️ realized that she’d cheat on my father multiple times while he was out working his ass off day to night to provide shelter for us.

She be gone for weeks and come home as if nothing happened, and after a while.. my dad never said anything because he loved her too much.

I’ve had plenty of plays, games, pageants, you name it. Every single one, I waited and waited for her to show up like she said she would, and she never did. She always stood me up. Eventually, she just stopped coming around and nobody knows where she is, nor do I care. She’on care about me or my daddy, so why should I care about what she got going on?

Shit I even had friends that I’ve shared my deepest and darkest secrets with, stop talking to me over a nigga.

I watched the love of my life.. end his life in front of me while I screamed and begged him not to. I tried to help him every chance I got to, but he always shut me out and told me he was okay. I knew he wasn’t and that’s why I never let it go. He was at a really low point in his life, and outta no where.. I wake up from my nap because he’s making a lot of noise because he’s drunk. Once I gained my vision, I noticed that he had a gun on him. Knowing that he was depressed, I tried to take it from him immediately. He’s screaming at me to give it back, while I’m trying to calm him down. I’m crying, telling him that it’s not worth it and that I truly care about him and love him dearly. Shit, he’s one of the best things that’s happened to me.

He watched me get on my knees and beg him not to do it... And he did it. Right in front of me.

Til this day, it still fucks with me and I feel like that plays another big part towards my built up emotions. The center has actually helped me in a way, and I didn’t think it would. I was glad that I checked myself in. I’m doing way better than what I was, trust me.

“Damn, what you over there thinkin’ bout?” Jaylen’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. I forgot he was even here.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking way too deep. What brings you here? I know you ain’t come to just buy no candy.”

“I was on the block and I wanted to stop by and see ya pretty ass face.”

“You ain’t smooth.” I smirked, bagging his candy. He seen his total on the screen and slid his card to pay.

“I got you over there blushing though.” I bit my lip, and tried to hide my face behind the screen as he laughed. I wasn’t blushing, I just liked to smile.

“Nah, not even.” He waved me off, taking the receipt out of my hand.

“You should let me chill wit you when you get off.” He suggested and I thought about it for a second. That ain’t sound too bad, plus I was off tomorrow.

“How you know I ain’t got something else to do?”

“You probably do, but all I know is.. ima be at ya crib tonight at 10 so don’t try to make no other plans.” He winked at me before walking off. I smiled shaking my head, not even realizing how hard I was blushing.

Ugh, I hated this feeling.

A couple of hours went by, and I was finally off of work, which made me happy because I ready to get the hell away from these people.

I ended up at my dad’s house, because I hadn’t seen him in 2 days and that was just too long for me. My daddy was literally my best friend.

He was on the couch with a Cigar hanging outta his mouth, making me laugh. “I hope yo ass brought some food cause you be quick as hell to eat up all of mines.”

“You didn’t cook? That’s the only reason I came over, daddy.”

“Hell no, today my relax day.” I rolled my eyes, because he always said that. Everyday was his relax day, let him tell it.

“I got the flowers and card that you sent today. Thanks, you almost made me cry in front of those people.” My dad made it a habit of sending me flowers on a daily basis, and I loved it. It’s the simplest things that makes my day.

“I try, I try.”

“Somebody gone appreciate you one day, old man.”

“Shit, about that-“ he started to talk until a woman’s voice cut him off.

“Victor, you coming back to bed?” I looked towards the direction of her voice and seen a really beautiful woman in a red robe, peeking around the corner. I gasped.

“Daddy!” I said loudly, covering my mouth. I’m over here 24/7, never have I heard or seen this woman.

He chuckled nervously and told her to come out to the living room. I did not wanna meet anybody coming out of his room in a robe.

My dad excused himself, making me sigh as my big brother came in, making shit worse.

“Eyyy, wassup baby sis.” I rolled my eyes and ignored his presence, moving his arm from around me.

“Why you gotta all Hollywood errytime a nigga come around? You’n never show me no love.” He was hella irritating. I barely saw him because of this dumbass shit he be doing, and he tries to send me all types of designer to make up for it but I could care less about that.

Izzy was one of the biggest drug lords out here in NY. He started off just selling when he was in high school, but I’m guessing the man that ran the whole business got sick, and Izzy was the only one that everybody respected besides ole dude, so he passed it down to him.

He was smart as hell, and had way more full ride scholarships to college than I did, but he let the drug life get the best of him. He dropped out when he only had half a semester left to graduate.

Ever since then, he was always getting into trouble. I wasn’t trying to be in none of his drama, so I just told him to stop talking to me in general. He and my dad claim that I’m wrong for it, but I don’t see how. He ain’t about to get me shot up. I love him to death, but nah.

“Cause you’re stupid, Iz.”

“Ion’ wanna talk about that shit while I’m at home, Jas. When you gone get over it? I been doin’ this shit since I was 16, ya attitude getting mad old now.” He sat down next to me on the couch.

I looked over at him fixing the collar on his Gucci shirt so that all 5 of his chains could show. One thing I could say about him was that he always cleaned up nice. You’d never catch him looking bummy.

“Because I care about you, and it pisses me off that you wanna ruin your life over something so dumb. You’re better than this.”

“Am I dead?”

“No, but if you don’t stop this shit, death or jail is right around the corner. You just got out for doing a 3 year sentence a couple of weeks ago, and what do you do? Go back to doing the same dumb shit.”

“So you think you Oprah or sumn’?” I rose an eyebrow at his sudden attitude.

“Think about your fam instead of yourself sometimes. Daddy lost his best friend to the same shit you doing right now. He tried telling him over and over that it wasn’t worth it, and right when he finally listened.. he got killed.”

“Aye sis, times be hard and I work too hard to be making minimum wage. I refuse to slave for a muhfucka’ for some little ass pay.”

“There are so many options out here, and you and I both know that you got the money to do whatever you want. You got enough money to where you don’t even have to work for the rest of your life! Go do something you love!”

“Like what, since you know everything.”

“Are you serious, Iz? Everybody knows music is your thing. It always has been. Invest in yourself! Produce!” He brushed over his waves, thinking about what I was telling him. I hope it wasn’t going one ear out of the other.

“Tell you what? Ima think real hard about that one and get back to ya on it.” I nodded with a smile, embracing him in a hug.

Well, we were getting some where. Usually he’d just shut that down on the spot and tell me no straight up, and he never told a lie.

“Let me spend a night at ya crib.”

“I’m having company tonight.”

“Who? Bet not be one of them pussy ass niggas you be fuckin’ wit.” Literally every dude stopped talking to me once they found out Izzy was my brother, and I don’t know why. He ain’t nobody to be scared of, these niggas just pussy. But then again, I haven’t seen the other side of him and I don’t want to. The Izzy I knew was sweet as hell, smart, and putting a smile on someone’s face. Hell, he was scared of clowns. If he saw one, he’d scream like a girl.

“Boy I don’t say nun’ bout all these nasty girls you be messing with.”

“I’m grown.”

“Oh so I’m not?”

“Nah, you gone always be baby sis.” I rolled my eyes and stood up to grab my purse. He swore I was his daughter.

“I’m out.” I started to walk towards the door. I would tell my daddy bye, but knowing him, he was probably up there doing something with that woman of his.

“Hold up rude ass, let me walk you out.”

Jaylen

I️ drove to Jasmine’s house, with the top off as I danced around to Drake’s Passionfruit that was blaring throughout my car. To say that I️ was in a good ass mood was an understatement. I️ smoked before I️ left the house, and a nigga was feeling good.

I️ know being around Jas was gone make my high even better. It took her some time to even get a bit comfortable with me.

After meeting her at the center, I ain’t see her for a couple of days. I got released, went to the store and seen her there. We ate together at some bomb ass spot, and exchanged numbers instantly. I talk to lil mama almost everyday and she cool as fuck. She the only person I know that can relate to me on some deep shit.

Being around her took my mind off of Robyn, completely and I was loving that shit. I️ wasn’t trying to start a relationship or no shit, and she wasn’t either. We were chillin’.

I️ pulled her into the driveway of her home, impressed because her shit was better than my condo. I needed to get on her level.

She was hella spoiled by her daddy, and I️ knew he bought her this nice ass house. I️ respect that she doesn’t just live off of her dad though. She be working even though she doesn’t have to.

Grabbing the bottle of Henny that she asked me to bring, I️ locked the doors to my car. Once I️ made it to her doorstep, I️ rang the doorbell as I️ waited patiently for her beautiful ass to answer the door.

“I’m comingggggg!” I️ heard her sing, making me chuckle. Shit, I’d love to hear her scream those words more often.

I️ pushed my dirty thoughts away, because I️ knew she wasn’t giving me any play no time soon.

The door swung open, and she stood in front of me with a big smile on her face. Without thinking twice, I️ embraced her into a big ass hug, squeezing the fuck outta her. She smelled like strawberries and shit.

“Hey.” She said as she pulled away, shutting and locking her door.

“Wassup? What you do all day?”

“Hung out with my dad.” She sat down on the couch, taking the bottle of Hennessy out my hand. I️ chuckled at how ready she was.

“Damn you ain’t playing no games, huh?”

“I️ gotta work for the rest of the week after tomorrow, I️ need this.”

Jas worked in retail, and she hated it. She had went to college for four years, but she doesn’t know what to do right now so she’s just working. She claims she doesn’t have any talents, but I know exactly what that shit is.

“Drink up, mama. I️ need that shit, too.” She popped the bottle open, and took that shit to the head in no time. I️ sat up, widening my mouth as she downed that shit with no problem.

“Damn, slow down.” I️ laughed, taking the bottle away from her mouth. She had drunken half of it already.

She wiped her mouth, smiling as she turned the music from her TV up. Getting this shit over with, I️ chugged the other half of the Henny down just as she did. When I️ was finished, I️ sat the bottle down on the table, rubbing my stomach because I️ was hungry as fuck.

I ain’t been drinking like I used to so I couldn’t just down that shit like it was water no more.

“What you got to eat?”

“Our favorite.”

“My fat ass got a lot of favorites.” I sat back in against her couch, with low eyes, laughing. She chuckled right along with me.

“Wings, boy.”

“Oh aight, that’s cool. Where they at?” I licked my lips, sitting up so that she could show me where the fuck they was at.

She stood up, holding her hand out for me to grab. I grabbed it, looking at her booty the whole time she led the way to the kitchen. She wore this little ass skin tight dress on purpose. If I ain’t respect her, I would’ve been fucked.

Pushing that thought away, we both walked into her kitchen.

I looked on the island and saw a box of Wings sitting there with my name on it. With no hesitation, I said my grace and started to dig in. She started to walk off but I pulled her back.

“Where you going?” I said with a mouth full of chicken. These wings were bussin’ and cussin’ right now.

“To my room. You fine but ion’ wanna watch you eat playa.” I laughed.

“How I’m post to know where ya room at?” I questioned, looking around. She acting like her house ain’t have a thousand rooms in this bitch.

“Upstairs, first door. You can’t miss it. I’ll leave it open for you.” I nodded and left her skip off to her room.

As I started back eating, I pulled my phone out because I was lonely as fuck down here. Watching a couple of Basketball highlights for a good 20 minutes, I was finally finished with my food and I was still hungry.

Cleaning up my mess, I put my phone in my pocket and went turned off the lights in the kitchen. Walking around the corner, there her stairs were so I walked up them. Her door was cracked open, but I decided to be a creep because I heard her talking to herself.

I realized that she was making those little voices like she always did. She need to be put in somebody’s movie for that shit. She swore she wasn’t talented. Voice acting was for her, foreal.

“You up in here acting like you Shrek and shit, but you ain’t got no talent?” I questioned as she jumped and turned around.

“You scared me.” She put her hand on her heart. I took her hand, interlocking both of them with mines, bringing both of us down on top of her bed.

I know she felt how hard my dick was because I felt how wet she was. I licked my lips, looking her in her eyes. I knew she wanted it as bad as I did, but she wasn’t gone give it up yet. I wasn’t gone pressure her either, so I just laughed and stopped playing with her ass.

“Jay you got me wetter than an ocean right now.” She huffed, going to the bathroom that was in her room.

“Come drown me then.” I winked at her she smirked, which turned into us busting up into a fit of laughter.

“Real shit Jasmine.. you need to get into voice acting.” I said as our laughter died down. I swear she was gone thank me once she realized it’s what she should’ve been doing a long time ago.

“Jay, you gone ruin my b-“

“Nah Jas, foreal. You stay complaining bout ya job. Go do something you love.” She sat down next to me and sighed.

“I just... I don’t know where to start Jaylen.”

“Start taking classes whenever you don’t have to work and go from there, ma. I promise the shit gone be worth it. Believe in yourself and God.” I suggested. She looked over at me, taking in what I had just said.

“Yo, ain’t nobody ever believed in me the way that you do.” She said

“Cause you got a gift, Jas. Ain’t nobody believe in me either, now I got muhfuckas paying millions for my shit.”

Growing up, nobody cared that I could draw. They’d always tell me that it wouldn’t get me any where and to stick with hooping. Except my mom and pops, but that’s about it. I obviously ain’t listen to they ass though.

“That’s great, you really just inspired me. I’m gonna do some research tomorrow morning. Thank you.”

“No problem.” I spoke, as my eyes scanned around the pictures in her room. I stopped atone family picture when I seen a picture of a fine ass woman.

“She bad.”

“My crackhead ass mom? Eh.”

“Crackhead? Yikes, why you gotta put her business out there.” I was laughing because she said it so nonchalantly.

“I hate that bitch.” She rolled her eyes, quickly taking the family picture down. Well then...

“Who that jawn? Since we being nosey?” She questioned, pointing towards towards the gold locket I had on my neck of me and Rob. She gave it to me months ago, and honestly.. I got so used to never taking it off, that I forgot I still had it. I twirled it around with my fingers, before taking it off and tossing it out of her window that was open. No doubt Robyn and I was done. Our last convo gave me the confirmation.

*Flashback*

There were a million emotions running through my body right now, that I️ couldn’t even describe what I️ was feeling. Shit was like Deja vu all over again.

She sighed heavily, putting her head in her hands. “Can we talk?” She didn’t say anything but that wasn’t gone stop me. She was gone hear whatever I had to say.

“Why?” Was all I️ asked as she looked up at me with no words.

“I️ didn’t mean for this to happen, Jaylen.” I️ tried my absolute best not to spazz or strangle her. I️ was beyond pissed, my nigga. That fucking rehab shit paid off, because I️ would’ve been got disrespectful.

“Why was you fucking that nigga, anyways? Now you just an easy piece of pussy, huh?” I️ sat down on the edge of her tub. Robyn was irresponsible and clueless as shit, but getting pregnant by a nigga she only knew for a short period of time wasn’t her. I hope she don’t think I don’t know about her getting pregnant by King Kong either.

Just thinking about her letting another nigga get up in what’s mines broke my heart. I just can’t believe she let him get her pregnant.

“Excuse me? And the same exact reason you went and fucked kayla.” I️ sighed, rolling my eyes because she was forever bringing up old shit. Here I️ am trying to change. She the type of person to bring up some shit that happened when you a kid.

“I’m over that shit, dude ion even talk to her ass no more. She engaged, wit a baby and ion’ want them problems. You always so stuck on me fucking up that you don’t even know how to admit when you wrong, too.”

“I’m wrong for trying to move on?” She scrunched up her face.

“Nah you fucking wrong because you seen me trying to turn my life around for you yet you still go and fuck this nigga. Raw at that. You foul bro. Yea, I did my dirt and I know I was wrong for fucking Kayla, but she’s outta my life completely now. I cut her off for you. I went to rehab for you. I quit smoking and drinking for you. Did all this shit for you, and you wanna sit up here and act like shit all sweet? I’m fucking hurt, Robyn. That was supposed be my baby that you having.”

She remained quiet, with her head in her hands because she knew I was right.

“Jaylen, from day one when I met you, you were fucking rude and a jerk. I thought that maybe you’d change but you didn’t. That attitude that you had is the attitude that pushed me away. Don’t sit up here and act like you weren’t the one that kissed another woman, either. That’s the whole reason we’re not together.”

By now, I was fed up by her bringing up old shit.

“No the reason why we ain’t together right now is because you don’t know how to fucking move past shit and you insecure as fuck. I’m damn near begging you, and ya ass won’t even consider hearing me out. Fuck you Robyn.”

*Flashback Over*

“Just an old bih I used to deal with. Nobody important.” I smiled, as she shook her head followed by laughter.

As she started doing lord knows what, my mind went off into a place that I didn’t want it to be in. That’s because a nigga only smoked one baby ass blunt and had half the bottle of Henny. If not, shit my mind would be on fucking Mars.

Trying to snap outta my thoughts, I put my focus on Jas’s dancing in the mirror. I was admiring that shit until I heard what she was dancing to.

“Think I got him covered for the weekend..” she grinded against her chair.

“Stop singing that thot ass song.” I mugged her as she continued to sing it, slightly making me mad.

Once she seen my face, she cut the music off, smiling. “Aww Jay, I’m sorry.” She apologized, straddling my lap. I shook my head no, ignoring her apology.

“Come on, I said sorry.” She poked her bottom lip out. Looking up at her, our eyes met with each other’s and locked. Before anything else could be said, her lips crashed into mines. My hands found their way to her ass.

She was gone give me blue balls, we been kissing all night and she was killing me with this teasing shit.

Jas was literally passed out on her bed, so I took that as my queue to leave. It was bout 3 in the morning and I had to be up by 7. I’ll make sure to text her in the morning.

Getting my shit, I made my way outside to my car so that I could go home. Since it wasn’t traffic at all, I got home within 15 minutes.

As soon as I got in, I spotted my dad sitting on the couch watching Power. “Nigga these bootycall hours, where you been?” He questioned as he paused the TV. How this nigga gone question me in my own crib?

“Nah not even pops, I was chillin’ wit a friend. Is Jayla in my bed?”

“Yea why?”

“Ima sleep in the guest room cause I’m high as fuck.”

“Nigga when ain’t you?” I chuckled, waving him off as I started to make my way towards the guests room. Pops ain’t like the fact that I smoked, but he was just gone have to deal with it. I used to smoke bout 3 or 4 blunts everyday before I went and got help. Now I only smoke 1 like three times a week. I don’t drink anymore. I only did it earlier, because it’s a new fucking year. That’s progress.

Kicking my slides off, I stripped out of my sweats and t-shirt before plopping down in the bed. Swear I drifted off to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

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takemeasiamff · 7 years

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Chapter 38 - Lost In Translation

I laughed into the phone and Janaie continued to go on about how much she couldn't stand T's new girlfriend- a kardashian? I was hardly listening to her, but she had me in stitches. "Janaie. Why don't you just go tell that man you love him and get your family back. Y'all both need to stop with the petty drama." I said in all seriousness and she went mute for a second. "I wish it was so simple mal but you know just as much as I do that it's not that easy. Who is to say he don't love this girl?" She answered and my eyes rolled as I held the phone between my ear and shoulder, bouncing Zion on my knee. "Please, it is that easy. The only reason I wouldn't go back to Chris is because I'm happy with J, but trust and believe if I wanted I could have him in a heartbeat and that's regardless of whoever liked it or not. Go and claim what's yours Janaie. This isn't a game anymore you have a child with that man." I said and heard her sigh on the other end. I watched J walk into our kitchen and completely disregard my presence as he went straight to the fridge. My son let out a set of babbles as he watched his step father move around the room and just like any other time, Jermaine came over taking him from my arms and blew bubbles over his face, still failing to acknowledge me. He was still mad about the night before and he needed to let it go. "My bad girl what you say?" I said cutting janaie's response off because I clearly hadn't been listening. "You want me to call you later? You seem a little busy." She said and she was right, i was distracted. "Actually girl yeah, I'll text you aight." I said before we both said our good byes and I set my phone down. "Morning." I said demanding his attention. "What up" he said with Zion on his lap as he scrolled through his phone with the hand he had free. "Look if you're still mad about last night then quit it. If you took offence to my comment then I apologise." I said sternly and he finally looked up and met eyes with me. "I didn't take offence to nothing, I'm good." He said sarcastically looking back down at his phone. I sighed when I realised what was going on and I couldn't help but smile a little. "Are you jealous? About what I said about Chris ?" I said as I stood up walking over to him. He chuckled into his bowl of frosted flakes and didn't look up at me. "I ain't jealous of shit." He stated and my brows furrowed. "... Well it's my bad if you felt disrespected." I replied honestly and he cleared his apparently clogged throat. "First of all you know I don't care about that petty shit. It's disrespectful because he's the father of your child and he's made it clear he still wants to be with you, and you know that." He said with his voice raising and I knew it was going to cause an argument because he knew I hated that shit. "Don't. fucking raise your voice at me in front of my son." I said back, the room fell silent soon after and he chuckled smugly. "And there you go pointing out the fact that he isn't my son again." He said shaking his head down at his cereal . "He's not." I replied harshly and regretted it as soon as I said it. "You know it's funny you say that, since I was the one there for you when his bitch ass father told you to get rid of him." He replied smartly and before he could continue my hand was flying across his face, which was closely followed by zion's small sobs. I looked down at him and matched his teary eyes with my own. "God dammit J!" I said in a higher tone than I would have wanted. I took Zion off of his lap , took him over to his high chair and placed him in it as I tried my hardest to calm him down. And after a little he finally settled. After a few moments of no dialog between both J and I , he stood to his feet , put his bowl into the dish washer and began exiting the kitchen. "Where are you going" I gave in grabbing onto his arm and he looked down at my hand latching onto him, he took his free hand, held onto mine which was holding onto his and plied me off of him. "Away from you." He answered staring into my eyes and quickly turned to walk towards the back door of the house. I was wrong, I knew I was. But he was dead out of line too. He knew better than to be bringing that shit up in mixed conflict. I don't know, but I was becoming so fed up of arguing with him. I barely saw him and when I did we were arguing most of the time. We should've been planning our wedding, house shopping, or at least enjoying each others company. This is not how I was hoping for the day to go. And it didn't help that I was feeling so under the weather and I still had a meeting with a party planner to discuss Zion's 1st birthday party which was coming up in just under 3 months. "I'm sorry baby." I said when I looked down at my son before lifting him out of his high chair. I stared down at Chris' email address flashing on my screen and like any other time I rolled my eyes. Perfect timing. "yo" he said as soon as he could see me and his brows furrowed when he saw our son in my arms. "Why's he crying?" He asked with concern and just like any other time I was honest. "Me and J got into an argument. He hates when I raise my voice." I answered and his eyes softened. "Don't be fighting around my son. It's not cool ." He said with so much authority in his voice that I almost felt like I was being told off. I didn't reply to him though. "Why are you calling?" I asked subtly and he let out a long breath before speaking. "Neveah birthday coming up, I wanted you to bring zee down." He stated and I unintentionally frowned. "What?" He asked noticing and I sighed slightly. "Nothing. But I'm supposed to be going to see my mother that week." I stated and he huffed already telling me he wasn't too happy. "I'm sorry. It's her birthday then too and I'm really trying to rebuild me and her relationship." I told him and he sucked his teeth low but even with bad reception and thousands of miles, I caught his attitude. "What?" I shot and he didn't speak at first. "... Nothing. But if you change your mind. I would really appreciate it." He said clearly upset but I didn't want to sell him any dreams "I won't." I replied and he nodded before suddenly cutting our conversation short. "Okay. Well I'll holla." He said and I would've rolled my eyes and commented on his attitude any other time but I couldn't be bothered for his comeback, not Chris, not today. "Okay. Bye." I replied shortly and we both ended the call. I sighed after thinking about J. I really hate fighting this nigga but it's like now all we do is fuck or argue. Most would say it was the passion, but I was old enough to know it wasn't. I was passionate about him and I knew he was about me, but this anger we had toward each other, this unspoken tension, it was unhealthy and we were both clearly unhappy. ____________ For the next 24 hours we completely acted like each other didn't exist. I wish I could tell him everything that was on my mind, everything that was bothering me and just be real with him, but God forbid he lied to my face, I would kill him in his sleep. I would rather leave it at what it was than push it, but as a result I was moody and grumpy around him which was ultimately breaking us down. I sat on the edge of the tub with my underwear on, I had been planning to take a bath for the last 15 minutes but the pain in my stomach was so intense that it was making it particularly hard for me. I lifted my head from its thrown back state when I heard my sons loud cries. I sighed loudly in a mix of emotions and went to tend to him, when I did turn out of the bathroom though my first sight was Jermaine entering from the other end of the room, I assumed he heard zee's cries also and came to see to him thinking that I was in the shower. I looked away from him and walked to my son just as he stepped forward. I sucked my teeth slightly when Zion's sobs didn't stop. "Zion please." I said bouncing him to try and stop his cries but it just got worse. I was frustrated with everything and I wanted to just cry with him. "Lemme try." J said putting his arms out to take Zion but I shrugged him off and I heard him suck his teeth when Zion continued whaling. Eventually I got fed up and passed him to j and after a few moments in his step fathers arms he settled until his cries were just small babbles. I watched in frustration and disbelief, and all of a sudden an overflow of emotion came over me. Jermaine's brows furrowed when the tears fell from my eyes and I turned away from him too upset to stand and went over to our bed. "What the hell is wrong with you." He asked in genuine confusion yet concern in his eyes. I didn't want to cry but " I can't help it, I'm tired, and you won't speak to me and Chris is mad at me and Zion's clearly coming down with something and I feel horrible." I said crying more and I heard Jermaine suck his teeth behind me. "Stop being childish babygirl." He said bluntly and I rested my head in my arms. "Don't talk to me" I said in annoyance and he chuckled. "You crying because I ain't speaking to you and now you're mad because I spoke to you." He stated as if I was an idiot who couldn't understand what he was saying. "Yeah because you're being an asshole." I replied and he chuckled. "You know what I ain't even gone stand here arguing with you. When you figure out what you want and how the fuck you should speak to your fiancé then get back to me." He shot and walked over to Zion's crib and laid him down as he slept before storming out. "Yeah? Well you know what fuck you! How bout that!" I shouted in anger and heard him shout a few curses back before the door completely shut. Fuck that I'm not about to sit here crying over this fool. I thought as I stood up again, I groaned remembering that I'd had the shower running for so long that the water had probably ran cold by now. I dragged my feet along till I reached the bathroom, unlike I had suspected, the water was actually piping hot. Perfect. I got done in the bathroom and to my surprise and benefit, Zion was still fast asleep. As always I got him dressed first and luckily he stayed asleep throughout that process. Once I was done doing that I packed his diaper bag and began getting myself together. I sat at my vanity with nothing but my silk robe on and placed various cosmetic products down before attempting to begin drawing my brows. - "You good?" Jermaine asked with concern all over his face. I shook my head no, wiping my mouth and sat on the ground suddenly feeling woozy. "You want some water?" He asked again and I looked up at him with a death glare. "Please" I replied and watched him walk out before returning with the bottle of water that had previously been sat on my bed side. "I told you to stop with all that diet mess." He threw , seemingly annoyed. My face twisted up at him. "What mess?" I replied challengingly. I knew what he was talking about because he'd been getting onto me about my new diet for weeks. Insisting that I didn't need to lose any weight, I looked perfect to him, and there was no such thing as "too thick". I watched the side of his face move as he went on lecturing me , his face moving to express how he felt about what he was saying. Not that I was taking any of it in. "-I'm anaemic." I said cutting him off mid-sentence. His lips sealed initially, then reopened after a quick swallow. "I get sick around this time of year, when the weather changes..." I trailed off, blinking up at him. Blankly. "I ain't know that.." He replied in slight shock. My mouth fell into a short frown and my shoulders shrugged. "There's a lot you don't know about me. Just like there's a lot of things I don't know about you..." I trailed off yet again, I couldn't help the hostility in my voice or how obvious it was that I had a problem. "What are you even talking about? If you want to talk baby girl just spe-" "Why didn't you tell me you fucked Jen ?" I blurted out before I could hold my tongue. He let my words settle, then sat up straight before letting out a sigh and rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm not doing this right now." He said moving to stand up. And I didn't stop him, I just sat there, basically naked, and gathered my thoughts before moving to follow behind him. "Why would you walk away when I'm trying to have a conversation?" I asked coming up behind him with my silk robe once again gagging loosely off of me. "It's late I don't want to talk about that shit. Nor do I want another argument." He said plainly and laid back on the bed, instead of leaving the room like I thought he would. "I'm not arguing. I just want to understand." I spoke tightly. "You want to understand what Malika? You want me to explain myself? For what? It won't make you feel any better." My mouth formed a small O and I let out a breathe. "Are you serious? You lie to me for months and have me out here looking like booboo the fucking fool and come at me like this?" I went off in anger. I couldn't believe this fool. "It was before we got together. We were talking, nothing serious. Had sex regularly, bout 3 months. Probably had 2 meaningful conversations in that space of time. I cut her off just before we met and I never spoke to her again." I felt sick listening to him speak. He made it sound so simple, even though he knew it was fucked up. "You could have told me. I told you everything, you could have told me." I said with my eyes glossing over. "I could have but it wouldn't have helped, by time I found out the two of you were friends , you'd already starting acting like you were Thelma and Louise. And at the time I knew you hadn't spoken to any of your other friends and I didn't want to fuck up ya'll friendship. I knew you needed one. I just figured if we stayed out of each others way it would be best for us all." He explained and I blinked taking in his words. "So it was your idea to hide it from me?" I questioned finally and he opened his mouth to say something other than "Yes or No J." I said interrupting his speech. "Yes." He said and I scoffed and stood up. "I can't believe you."

#chrisbrown #fanfiction #justin bieber #rihanna #bernice burgos #kylie jenner

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itsjayyyy · 6 years

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September 18, 2018 4:53 pm

wow since it’s been a few days since an update, I had a lot of things to open this entry with, but of course only one topic can be the first i talk about. so, the most recent one: I was just laying in bed thinking about how I need to study for my bio exam tomorrow and also complete the next two modules for econ, but then I realized it’s tuesday and econ hw is due monday nights, and freaked out. I literally went through all five stages of grief, before I was like “it’s okay, it’s only the homework, the exam will pull my grade up” and opened my laptop to start reading for bio. but then I checked econ and apparently because there’s an exam this week, there wasn’t any homework due so HOLLA.

so this past weekend has been annoying, as always. I was at ioa for friday, but we only had three workers total (we normally have 6) for closing, so it was hell trying to close on time. and then saturday I went to usf, which is always hell. not to mention, hhn started so we had to spend an hour cleaning so the night crew would be set. and at the end of my shift, the usf manager has the nerve to say to me that she wants me to pick up some shifts this week. I tell her that I have four exams, and I’ll have to check my schedule, but she says “oh but your availability says you’re free after 4 on tuesdays, thursdays, and fridays” what the fuck!!!!!! don’t go looking at my availability when I’m not your employee!!!!!!! so I kept saying I had to study, I had to see, two of my exams are online, etc and she kept pushing for me to at least take shifts on friday afternoon and saturday, since I should be done with exams by then. I took the saturday shift because by this point my shift ended a minute ago and I wanted to leave, and told her I’d call her to let her know if I can take friday (I won’t.) SO SUNDAY I walk in to ioa (home sweet home), and we have a new coworker!!! And by new I mean he used to work at usf but transferred here permanently. What. “Oh jay we send you to usf because they’re understaffed and we’re overstaffed.” Okay. So I tell my manager that they’re stupid for accepting MORE workers when we have that issue, and she has the audacity to say to my face “oh it’s more than that, he didn’t like it at usf” as if I haven’t spent the last two months telling both ioa and usf managers that I hate usf. Okay. So Sunday, when I next work at ioa, I’m going to speak to my highest manager and tell her that she either tells the scheduler that I am not to work at usf again, or I quit. I have enough money in my savings account to last me a while.

wow. rose deadass drank 6 apple juice boxes out of the 8-pack we had. this bitch clearly doesn’t care if I starve huh.

so yesterday I met up with heather after class in the student union. did I mention how much I love cafe bustelo? I really love it. a good cafe con leche really warms me up. we talked for a while, then I walked her to class. In our conversation, our birthdays came up at some point (I think I said something along the lines of “you didn’t get me anything for my birthday this year! and she said “you didn’t get me anything either!”) and I was like “I bet you don’t even know my birthday” and she said april 22nd. and then later she was like yea well I bet you don’t know mine and i immediately said march 19, so she said she’d buy me starbucks today to make up for it.

today’s morning was really gr8 and also really un-gr8. like, I woke up at 7 thinking I had to leave the house at 8:30 for my ortho appt, and laid in bed for a while before finally getting up and showering. but when I stepped out of the shower and saw the time was 8, I realized that I didn’t leave the house at 8:30, my appointment was at 8:30. cue getting dressed while still partially damp, forgetting heather’s gov’t textbook, and going 75 in a 45 zone. I thank the gods daily that motorcycles don’t get red light tickets.

while driving down the main road leading to my university, I had this white car weaving between traffic. at one point he was behind me, but then when I slowed down in a turn he switched to the right, which ended up being right behind a campus shuttle (you know, the ones that drive 5 mph under the speed limit at all times and you can barely see around. and they’re diesel, ugh!). as he saw me speed up at the end of the curve, he switched back to behind me and sped up too, but as soon as I reached level with the front of the shuttle (and the pickup on the other side of me), I slammed on my brakes so he couldn’t try to go around. Definitely risked getting run the fuck over, but it was so worth it seeing the look of frustration on his face.

I got nearly instant karma, though, because he entered the university through the first turn, when I went for the second a little ways up since it’s closer to my garage. but the traffic light was down, so I had to merge into one lane with everyone else, and then they wouldn’t even allow left turns because it’s too complex for the person directing traffic, so I had to make a right then a u-turn. But it was made up for by the fact that the trike that normally parks in my spot was probably also deterred by the traffic, and I got to claim my righteous spot.

so when I got on campus, I went to heather’s class, or rather, the building it was in since I couldn’t find room 106 exactly. I remembered that my annoying coworker said that her classes were in that building + the one next to it also on tuesdays, but I thought that there was no way I’d actually bump into her considering there are over 60,000 students and the buildings are pretty large, plus I didn’t know what time her classes are.

well, now I know that her class gets out at the same time + same building as heather. we walked towards the starbucks (which is near her next class), and I introduced her to heather, we talked about how it was to work at universal, the sort. and then she was like “well I gotta go to class now, bye!” and i was like bye and smiled and when she was more than 20 feet away I turned to heather and said “that’s the coworker I told you that I hate.”

I love pumpkin spice season!!!!!!!! got a frappuccino tho, because it’s never truly fall in florida. heather got a mango dragonfruit refresher bc I recommended it to her, and it’s funny because the person ordering before us was also named heather and also ordered a mango dragonfruit. As a barista, that’s like my worst nightmare. Luckily they were able to tell it apart because the other heather got a grande. We sat in the starbucks for a while, I explained how weed is a lot more safe than cigarettes, talked about pine hills’ reputation, and how samantha’s mom is so damn disrespectful. This woman drove heather home one day when picking up samantha, and the whole ride was bragging about how samantha was going to be so successful because she’s majoring in some type of psychology and will be making over 90k a year. and then she turned the conversation to how teachers don’t make that much money, and she asks heather how she could do that, just take such a low-paying job. and lemme tell ya how MY GIRL HEATHER FUCKIN SNAPPED. she done said she tired of people saying teachers don’t make a lot of money yall. she said to samantha’s mom, “I don’t know how you’re looking down on my salary when you have three children from three different men with only a salary of $30k.” Y’ALL. the point that heather was trying to make the point that “people from working-class families act as if a salary less than 100k is unacceptable even for an unmarried, childless young adult despite working class families often having a household income of 50k while supporting children just fine,” but damn she really went there. goin off on this good catholic woman for having baby daddies. well samantha’s mom and samantha became very upset. and they told heather’s dad who would not leave her alone until she apologized. as in, he was banging on her door telling her she had to apologize. I said put headphones in and ignore it, she was like “girl you don’t understand haitian parents. my dad literally opened my door with a knife when I locked it.” so she had to apologize :/ but she also made it clear that she didn’t like the way samantha’s mom disrespected her. she tried to make it seem relatable, and be like, “oh what if i said that to your mom, wouldn’t you tell me to apologize” and I’m like???? no???? I would make my mom apologize for being disrespectful first the hell??? then I reminded her about how I literally lived on the streets for 3 weeks because my mom was disrespectful to me.

today after class I decided to take the city bus home, for 4 reasons: I wanted to stay humble and remember where I came from, I wanted time to be able to finish this book, not walking the last half-mile home every day this semester has caused some weight gain, and I really wanted to hold my parking spot against that damn trike, and it seems he comes too early in the morning for me, so I just left my bike there overnight. yea I’m petty.

The book was really good. It’s definitely a hard read, for sure. In the sense that it really will make you cry. At the end, it listed all of the school shooting victims since columbine, plus a small snippet about them (it was like 20 pages long). The one that really got me was an 8 year old, whose text read “shoot me first,” as he wanted to take a bullet so it wouldn’t be used against his classmates. Then, below that entry, a seven year old, who said “shoot me next.” Just typing that is making my eyes water again.

The walk home was super tiring. I’m super out of shape, it was hard for me to even imagine that I did this every single day the entire first semester of college. And I have to do it tomorrow morning again, ugh. Can you believe heather wakes up at 5:30 am???? I’m never seen out of bed before 7, and even then it’s only for things like appointments. But I guess I really should start waking up earlier, because whenever I get on campus around 8 I feel great because I have so much time to study and stuff. but that means I have to buy a coffee on campus, and I don’t know if I want to commit to that expense.

edit: so I originally posted this to my main, and when I saw that I copied it, then deleted it, then tried to paste it into a new post, but I guess I didn’t press ctrl hard enough because it didn’t copy. and I was about to cry bc this is close to 2k words, but then I realized I had a tab of my main open that still had the original post showing, so I copied from there.

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chromecutie · 5 years

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Not A Ghost - part 29

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Rhonda tugged at the ugly yellow jumpsuit. Somehow, the Department of Mutant Control had gotten uglier and more uncomfortable jumpsuits. She growled under her breath, "Upgraded the collars, downgraded the clothes. What else did they cut corners on to cover these?"

Wade chirped, "Good ol' privatized prisons! Gotta love 'em, right Jackboot Thug Number Three?" He nudged the guard who was ushering them to the mess hall.

Jackboot Thug Number Three was not amused and hit Wade with the cattle prod he carried. With a pained yelp, he crumpled to his knees on the metal grate they walked on. Rhonda slowed, but didn't stop for fear she'd get hit next. Hair still cold and wet from when the officers hosed her off, she shivered. Wade groaned his way back to his feet, "He's a little spicier than you, Pikachu." He played it cool, but his coughing was worrisome.

The Icebox itself looked mostly how Rhonda remembered it. Chilly, hard surfaces everywhere so even quiet sounds echoed extensively. The areas that Cable had broken through only a matter of months ago had been repaired, but were done with functionality in mind and not uniformity with the rest of the facility. Rebar, concrete, and steel jutted at rough angles. Guards stood watch near many of the repaired areas, making it difficult for inmates to try to investigate if there were any weaknesses.

Passing by a group of inmates, Rhonda only recognized a few, but those gave her dirtier looks than the ones she didn’t know. A man with red-rimmed eyes bared his teeth - filed to points - and hissed at her. Showing infinitely more confidence than she felt, Rhonda said, “Hello to you too, snaggletooth. Miss me?”

A buzzing alarm rang, and inmates flowed around Rhonda, Wade, and their officer escort to the mess hall. “Go ahead,” their officer said gruffly. “Don’t start any shit in there or I will let you die.” Jackboot Thug Number Three melted away into the crowd, leaving Wade and Rhonda to exchange a look.

“Okay,” Wade was way too cheerful, “Let’s get our lunch trays and figure out which cool kids we can sit with.”

“Nobody, Wade,” she answered flatly as they got in line for food. “I can’t sit with anybody here.”

The other inmates gave them a wide berth. Trays clacked and slid along the metal rails, and even though everyone was hungry, no one got too close to Rhonda. Wade muttered out of the side of his mouth, “Jesus, what did you do, huh?”

“Not here,” her voice was so raspy she was barely audible when she spoke quietly.

The food that was scooped and plopped onto their plates was beige and barely warm. The mess hall staff said it was beef and noodles, but whatever was passing for beef was too pale. There was also a small scoop of green beans - somehow worse than the canned kind, a half an orange that was dry like it had been cut days ago, and the Icebox’s trademark little chocolate pudding cup. “Still better than my piece of shit dad used to make,” Wade shrugged. Rhonda sighed, remembering why some days she had simply opted out of eating. Something tugged and twisted in her heart.

Shoulders up and head down, Rhonda held her tray close, such as it was, and scanned for a table they could take. As they walked past each one, inmates would spread their elbows or scoot a few inches so they all took up more room than they needed. Making an executive decision, Rhonda planted herself at the end of a table, and if the inmates there wanted a bubble around her, they would have to make one. As Wade settled in across from her, the wiry men who were there first scooted a few inches to put some distance between them.

With no appetite, Rhonda started to force down the food. The noodles were too soft, the meat too salty, though it was pretty much the only flavor on the whole plate. She tried the green beans and had to keep herself from gagging. Why were they slimy? Taking a deep breath, she was still deciding whether she would bother trying the orange, when heavy footsteps stomped from across the mess hall and stopped a few feet away from her table.

“New bitches give me their pudding,” a deep voice echoed through the room and somehow managed to sound a little whiny.

“Ooh, here we go!” Wade said gleefully as he bit into the rind of his orange like it was an apple.

She briefly closed her eyes and shook her head, her heart already surging with adrenaline. “We’re not new,” she replied, just loudly enough to be heard.

“Oh?” the deep voice grew louder and he took a couple steps. “Because I ain’t seen you here. Where the hell you been if you ain’t new?”

Rhonda fought to keep her breathing slow, controlled. “I’m not gonna spend time explaining myself to idiots.” She glanced over her shoulder, just to gauge this petulant aggressor.

He was meaty, had a bit of a gut. There was a big burn scar on his face, which spread down his neck and trailed under his collar. His breathing was heavy, though he didn't look like he'd recently exerted himself. His face started turning red as he huffed, "Listen, bitch. You're new, and I'm gonna get your pudding."

Looking back to Wade before the man was even done talking, Rhonda rolled her eyes and shook her head. She knew this type all too well. No amount of conflict de-escalation could salvage this conversation. "Play your intimidation show with someone else." She wasn't loud, but her dry throat sounded like she'd just drank cement mix. Her tone was flat, neutral. Unfortunately, belligerent idiots still hear neutral as combative. Especially when other inmates start snickering.

The red-faced brute came hurtling his full force at Rhonda, and at the last second she swung her legs around the end of the bench, spinning to her feet. She grabbed the man by the back of his head and slammed his face into the edge of the metal table--to a sickening, wet crunch of his teeth breaking. Pieces of his teeth flew over the table. He howled in shock and pain, blood pouring from his mouth, lips busted.

Rhonda shoved him away from her, onto the floor. She picked up her little plastic cup of pudding--the only not-terrible thing in the Icebox and the single hottest commodity--and threw the damn thing on the ground with her whole strength, close to the man’s head. The foil seal broke and pudding splattered over the concrete floor.

The rest of the inmates stopped laughing and fell silent, watching.

Rhonda wanted to roar and shout, but her throat was too sore, voice too hoarse. Instead, she croaked at the man moaning on the ground, “If you want my pudding so bad, you will lick it off the fucking floor.” When he didn’t move, she tangled her fist in his hair and shoved his face in it, snarling, “Go on, lick it! I’ll wait.”

He made pitiful sounds, and after some hesitation, finally started licking it off the floor.

“Wade, come piss on this idiot,” she waved him over.

He winced and balked, “Aw, come on, it hurts to pee!”

She answered him with a glare that very clearly said, Motherfucker, do not test me here or I will make an example of you.

He gave a whining groan like a kid being told to take out the trash, and crossed over to piss on the man who attacked Rhonda.

She searched the immediate area and picked up the broken pieces of teeth from the table and floor. Rattling them in her hand, she raised her voice just loud enough for the other inmates (though it hurt to speak), “Next person who touches me eats these teeth.”

When there was no answer, the inmates resumed their meals and Rhonda and Wade returned to their seats. She forced down her food, despite her nausea, and hoped she didn’t regret it later.

“Soooo,” Wade raised his eyebrows and picked at his food, “Guess I’m never stealing any french fries from your Happy Meal. Food aggressive, much?”

She chewed her next few bites just as little as she could get away with in order to swallow her food, before giving up eating any more. “If we have the slightest chance for survival,” she said, “We’re gonna have to get control over as much of the prison as possible.”

“Sooner’s better than later,” Wade agreed. “We don’t know what kind of timeline we have.”

Scanning the room with the corner of her eye, Rhonda observed, "You see the tall, skinny guy with the blue hair?" When Wade confirmed, she continued, "He's sitting with the Vicious 13. Last time I was here, he was high-ranking with the Red Disciples." She stole a glance around the room. "I don't see who I'd expect for the Disciples, so something happened. We need to find what."

They finished their meals and as they returned their trays, the other inmates gave them sideways glances. It was respectful - sort of - like the way all animals must drink during a drought, and there will be surprising moments of tenuous peace. However, as people clustered to return trays was also a good time for a whole gang to shank one victim and then disperse with no one sure who did the attack. When neither Rhonda nor Wade was stabbed, she was sure the semi-respectful glances were the other inmates sizing her up, calculating who could take her down, when, and how.

“I see it too,” Wade’s voice was low in her ear, “Come on.” He pinched part of her jumpsuit to lead her to a less crowded part of the mess hall, less obvious than taking her by the elbow. They could hear the tiny rattle and rustle of the teeth fragments in Rhonda’s pocket. Her exterior looked calm enough, but her heart was pounding and she kept every muscle tensed just to keep from trembling. When they were out of everyone’s arm’s reach, Wade had a coughing fit. It was a deep, choppy cough that wracked his body.

Rhonda put a hand on his shoulder, brows creasing, “What’s wrong?”

Wade groaned as his cough subsided, “Probably a bunch of fuckin’ tumors. I didn’t tell you my superpower is just not dying of cancer?”

Realization dawned and turned to horror on her face. “So the collar...Wade! Why did you jump in on this?”

A guard barked, “Inmates! Turn in for the night. Lights out in one hour.”

Clearing his throat to stave off another coughing fit, he answered, “Because I’m the right choice. If Cable’s cut off from his powers, his metal arm will become his metal everything; we already covered how Colossus wouldn’t make it a day without getting his shit wrecked. Maybe Domino would get by fine, but I know the Icebox better.”

Stunned, Rhonda said quietly, “I could do this on my own if I had to.”

“It’s bad enough to send you back in here at all,” Wade shook his head, “Nobody’s saying you aren’t tough, but everyone’s got their limits.”

“How long do you have?” her voice cut out in her hoarse whisper, like a phone call with a bad connection.

Wade shrugged, “At least a few days, we’ll be fine.”

Her eyes widened in dread. Before she could answer, the guard yelled a few feet away from them, “INMATES! Cells! Now.”

Wade squared his shoulders and turned on the charm with a fake English accent, “Ah, concierge! Show us to our rooms please, we’ve only just arrived.”

The officer gripped his cattle prod, a warning. Then he waved his hand to usher them along. They shuffled up some stairs, steps echoing through the concrete cavern. He led them to their cell block and stopped at one cell that was occupied by what looked like a werewolf with terrible mange. “You’re in here,” he shoved Wade in.

The realization that they were separating made Rhonda’s heart leap into her throat, veins turning cold.

If Wade was worried, he didn’t let it show. He waved, “Bye, bestie! See you in the morning!”

Somehow, she forced herself to nod and allowed the guard to herd her further down the row to her cell. Someone was in there, but it was too dark to see who; the lights were busted in that cell. There was something cruel in the way the guard chuckled, “Good luck, mutie,” as he pushed Rhonda in, right before the doors mechanically slid closed.

“I heard the rumors that Guestbook was back,” a feminine voice like crushed velvet purred, “but I didn’t believe it until I saw for myself.”

Rhonda sighed, irritated. “Hello, Mimi.”

#xmen #rhonda and deadpool: the iceboxening #deadpool #piotr rasputin #colossus #colossus x oc #piotr rasputin x oc #angst #icebox #mutants #longfic

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chromecutie · 5 years

Text

Not A Ghost - part 20

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Piotr figured if he waited long enough, Rhonda would get hungry enough to come to the kitchen for some dinner. His patience was rewarded when she came in with an all too familiar satisfied smile and heavy breathing. She only smiled like that after dancing to some music she was really excited about.

Rhonda filled a glass of water from the dispenser in the fridge, drank almost the whole thing right away, and refilled it before turning and smiling at Piotr over the glass. She leaned against the counter by the fridge, a certain ease in her relaxed slouch.

“Had some fun?” he still couldn’t stop smiling at her green and yellow hair.

She nodded and hummed her affirmative as she drank another half glass of water.

“Are you going to eat tonight?” Piotr crossed the kitchen, leaving the big granite island between them.

Blowing some hair out of her face, she huffed, “Yes, I’m starving.” She angled toward the fridge, but Piotr was already opening it to pull out a few casserole dishes.

“Good answer,” he chided. Holding up two options, he asked, “Spaghetti or stir fry?” She made a face like he had just asked her if she would rather visit London or Paris. He let her struggle with her indecision for all of three seconds before he said, “Some of both, then.” With a little snicker and a wink, he plated almost twice what should be considered a normal portion of food.

“Oh my god,” Rhonda laughed, “You know I can’t eat all that!”

Piotr knew better, but he played along and shrugged, “I will finish whatever you don’t eat, but I don’t want to put all this away just to have you--” he imitated a whiny voice, “Ooh, I’m still hungry, I need more!”

The microwave dinged and they sat at the table for Rhonda to eat -- with her third full glass of water. She ate a few bites of stir fry, then switched to the spaghetti, back and forth. Her husband’s cooking had always been good, but it was even better lately. Maybe he had found better recipes, maybe she had gotten so used to prison food, or maybe she was just ravenous from a few solid hours of dancing.

As she ate, Piotr teased, “So, how was Mr. Hozier?”

Sipping at her water, Rhonda answered between bites, “He made me forget how out of practice I am.” After handling a particularly big bite of spaghetti, she elaborated, “I tried to do some certain jetés, not thinking about it, but I can’t jump as high as I used to, my timing was off, stuff like that.” She sounded mildly disappointed, but mostly analytical.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Piotr barely resisted the urge to glance at her ankles, remembering all the times she had downplayed injuries like broken toes, bruised knees, or twisted ankles.

She shrugged it off, “Nah, no worse than I ever have.” For the look Piotr shot at her, she insisted, “I’m fine, really. What about you? How’s your evening been?”

Piotr held out his hand for her fork, and he stole a bite or two of stir fry before giving it back. “A lot of paperwork. I’m not on field duty, but I’m curating files, coordinating some things.”

“You miss it?” Rhonda asked softly. “Field work?” She wiped a stray spot of sauce off her mouth.

He hesitated, searching her face. Her shoulders had gone rigid when she asked. It had been a couple months since she had returned home, and he had barely left the house in that time. Of course he missed working on missions -- going out and handling young mutants losing control or adult mutants who had lost their way and turned criminal. Finally, he replied, “Not as much as I missed you.” Piotr took her almost empty glass and got her more water. “There will be more time in the field later. For now, what I want most is to know you are doing well.”

His cheerful smile melted the tension in her shoulders, and she resumed eating, but he could tell she had something she wasn’t saying.

Rhonda looked down at her plate and realized there was only one bite of stir fry left and maybe two bites of spaghetti. Except for the bites Piotr had stolen, however, she’d had a huge dinner. Leaning back in her chair, she nudged her plate away from her. “I told you I couldn’t eat all that, babe.”

He slapped his thigh with a clank as he laughed, “I knew you would eat most of it!” His hearty laugh faded to a chuckle as he finished off the last few bites and pushed the plate aside to take her hand. Piotr let out a soft exhale as he studied her dark eyes and the fine lines around them when she smiled. His own expression faded as he schooled his features to something more neutral. “Sladkaya,” he began delicately, “Earlier today, with Russell.” Rhonda’s smile faltered and her brows started to furrow. “What did he...did he call you...Guestbook?”

She instinctively pulled away from his hand, just a fraction of an inch, but just before she fully broke contact with his steel fingers, Rhonda leaned closer to him and held her husband’s hand with both of hers. “It was,” her voice came out in a raspy whisper before she cleared her throat and started again. “It’s what they called me in the Icebox.” When she raised her eyes to meet his, they had that haunted look she got whenever she shared any details about what happened there. “I don’t want to ever hear or say that name again, if I can help it.”

The chair screeched on the floor as Rhonda suddenly pushed her chair back and made to leave the kitchen, but Piotr gently caught her around the waist. “Of course, sladkaya.” His long fingers spread over her ribs. He eyed the green sleeve that covered her right arm. “If there is anything I can do to help you, please tell me.”

Her throat too tight to speak, Rhonda nodded, and before the tears welling up could fall, she slipped her arms around her husband’s neck. He shifted in the chair to give her space to stand between his legs. Rhonda gave him a few kisses on the cheek before fully pressing herself against him in a tight embrace. He held her as tight as he could without risking some bruised ribs; his steel armor didn’t have the same give as his unarmored form. “[My sweet wife, I love you,]” he murmured in Russian against her ear. When she took a deep breath, he loosened his hold slightly.

“I think I could go for a shower,” she kissed her way from his cheek to his lips again. “I know it’s kinda early, but I’m ready for bed. Would you come sit with me for a while?”

Piotr took another taste of her lips before saying, “Of course,” and following her upstairs.

The next day, Rhonda was so sore she could hardly move. Piotr teased her about getting older and said she couldn’t roll around like the was twenty anymore. All the same, he brought her a protein shake in bed and massaged her feet and calves until she felt good enough to get up and start her day.

Piotr went about his day of handling paperwork and compiling case files while Rhonda continued working with the light bulbs and relearning how to stretch her abilities. To try to ease her soreness, she also did very light dance work, and stretched as much as she could. The sleeve cut from Yukio’s tights stayed in place pretty well while dancing, and Rhonda decided she would have to ask where she could get more. It definitely made it easier to walk around in tank tops without pulling on hoodies or cardigans.

In the afternoon, Rhonda checked in with Hank, who was developing ways to test the strength and control of her electrical charges, and it seemed like she was making a decent recovery, if still slow. “I think you’re ready to start practicing in the Danger Room, if you want to try a low-level simulation,” Hank suggested.

A cold feeling flitted over her as she remembered the echoing emptiness. “No, I can’t go back in there.”

Rhonda’s routine became less predictable over the next week or so. Ororo, Ellie, and Yukio had started insisting Rhonda join them for breakfasts, lunches, and afternoon coffee. Rhonda loosened up a bit and started to enjoy these low-pressure, small setting hangouts, but it was hard to shake off an underlying discomfort. Yukio had been right - maybe Rhonda was spending too much time on her own. Despite this, the feeling nagged at her that an hour for coffee was an hour lost that she should have been practicing dance or rehabilitating her electrical abilities.

Piotr grew worried when he started seeing dark circles return under his wife’s eyes. She was eating enough, she wasn’t waking up from nightmares as often anymore, and she was in bed at a reasonable hour. Despite looking tired, she also looked focused and happy. To his surprise, he realized she also wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder and actually held her head high when she walked. “You walk like yourself again,” he noted, “Shoulders back, toes turned out, like the dancer I’ve always known.” She smiled at the comment, but the dark circles worried him. While she was busy at lunch or something else Yukio and Ellie had talked her into, he checked the sedatives on her nightstand. It looked like she had stopped taking them, because there were a lot more pills than he expected.

At bedtime, Piotr stayed awake, pretending to sleep. He waited, and after an hour or two, he heard Rhonda stir beside him. He kept still, listening to the sheets rustling as she got up and tiptoed around the room. She hardly made a sound, even taking care to miss the one creaky floorboard near the closet. When the bedroom door clicked shut, Piotr waited another few minutes before sitting up and turning on his bedside lamp.

Rhonda had taken her phone and the speaker from her nightstand, and her pajama shorts were laid out on her side of the bed. Piotr guessed she changed into some leggings, and also noted her old hoodie was gone from its spot on a chair.

After careful consideration, Piotr decided not to get up and go look for her. Instead, he would wait to see how long she was gone. He thought it was possible that she stopped taking the sedatives, but still had trouble sleeping, so maybe she was taking walks in the middle of the night to help her sleep. He turned off his lamp and waited some more. It took a solid three hours before he heard the door open and softly click shut again, and the barely audible sound of her feet ghosting over the floor. There was a rustling of fabric, and Piotr guessed she was changing back into her pajama shorts or putting her hoodie back on the chair where she liked to keep it.

In the morning, he noticed a little dirt caked around her fingers and toes, but said nothing. He let them go about their day, following their respective routines. At night, Rhonda got up again, and again Piotr waited in silence, pretending to sleep. After a waiting a while, bored, he turned on his side toward the window, and saw bright flashes of lightning through the shades. He frowned, thinking it was weird he didn’t hear any rain or thunder. Then he realized there was something rhythmic about the flashes of lightning.

Piotr got out of bed and pulled back the drapes to look out the window, and saw the flashes weren’t coming from the sky, but somewhere on the ground. Another bright flash drew his eye and he saw Rhonda, near the old lamp post and bench.

She was cartwheeling and turning wildly on the grass, the same patch of lawn where she had sprawled after the Danger Room, and arcing brilliant pale green electrical charges from her hands and feet. Piotr watched for a minute, stunned, before noticing she was playing Hozier on her speaker.

The music layered earthy, deep drums and a twangy guitar that sounded like it had wandered in from an old blues song. Piotr was too far away to place the song or the lyrics as he watched Rhonda dance. She dove into a handstand, strong legs waving and wheeling around before throwing them past her head, which arched her back and carried her back to her feet. She leaped high in the air -- and tumbled to the ground, feet over shoulders. For a nerve wracking second, Piotr gasped, and relaxed once he saw her roll smoothly back to her feet, as if it were all one motion. The dramatic fake-fall-and-tumble was one of Rhonda’s signature moves that she loved incorporating into her performances. Piotr shook his head at himself, feeling ridiculous for having forgotten. All the while, Rhonda flashed lightning from all her limbs in time with the claps in the beat, streaking over the grass and high in the air.

As quietly as he could, Piotr climbed down from the balcony and crept closer. She was so beautiful, the way she moved, hair flying and no regard for how much grass and dew and dirt she got on herself. Rhonda didn’t move with the same flexibility and fluidity that she used to; there was something rougher, more raw than Piotr remembered. This was new, and he loved it.

One song ended and another began. Closer, Piotr could finally hear the vocals more clearly, and he was utterly transfixed. He was able to recognize part of the chorus:

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I’ll crawl home to her

A weight settled in Piotr’s heart. He remembered their picnic on her grave and how she had been so quiet, staring at her headstone with a stern brow. It wasn’t just that Rhonda was dancing, she was processing something.

He dared get just a little closer -- an arc of lightning snaked through the grass and Piotr stifled a grunt when it hit his bare feet. The sound was enough to draw her attention.

Rhonda paused and locked eyes with him. Her green hair was a tangled, sweaty mess, and torn pieces of grass were stuck all over her bare arms. Just when Piotr was afraid she would be angry, she smiled. It was an impish grin, like he had come across an actual mythical creature who was about to enthral him with her dance until twenty years went by without his notice.

She went to her phone and tapped a few times, glancing at Piotr as she restarted “Work Song.” For a moment, she stood still, except for the heaving of her chest as she panted. Then she moved. She closed her eyes and let her limbs make slow, lazy lines. Her head rolled, the yellow tips of hair caught the lamp light.

There’s nothing sweeter than my baby

I’d never want once from a cherry tree

Cause my baby’s sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin’ me

Piotr let out a soft gasp when he realized he’d been holding his breath. Every time her eyes found his, her lips pulled in a smile that was sweet and wistful. She still flashed her lightning in a way that artfully meshed with the music, but she was careful to send the bolts upward so they wouldn’t hit her husband, just a few feet away from her with his bare metal feet on the grass.

Weak in the knees, Piotr beamed until the elation and love he felt was overwhelming. He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Rhonda seemed to melt until she was a fluid mess of shoulders and spine and hips on the grass. She rolled and twisted on the ground, adding a sensual edge that made Piotr desperately want to put his hands on her and feel every inch of her curves. He knew better than to interrupt his wife when she was dancing, but the desire was there.

The song ended, and Rhonda sat up on her knees, showing her teeth in an exhausted grin. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” she said just loud enough to be heard over the beginning of the next song.

Piotr rushed to pull her up into his arms and spin around, burying his face in her hair. “You are amazing,” he chuffed breathlessly.

Rhonda circled her arms around his neck, bracing her toes against his legs. She pressed her cheek against his, and with the steel of his back under her fingers, realized he was out on the front lawn in just his underwear. “Did you jump off the balcony?”

He chuckled sheepishly, “I was afraid I would miss it if I took time to use the stairs.” He supported her weight with an arm around her waist, and pulled back to brush her hair away from her face with his free hand. “I have been wondering when you would let me see you dance again!” Piotr’s brows twitched together with concern, “Why sneak out in the middle of the night like this?”

Rhonda pressed a soft kiss to his steel cheek and rested her face against it. “It’s just…” she sighed, “It’s been hard to be around people, and...it feels so good to be outside and moving and touching something that’s not concrete and rebar.” She gave him an extra squeeze. “Does that make sense?”

With a sigh, he returned her warm squeeze and she felt his voice rumble through his chest. “You are not in the Icebox, sladkaya. Do you feel like you must hide from your friends?"

Rhonda tapped his shoulder and he let her slide back down to her feet. She went to turn off the music and grab her phone and speaker. In the quiet dark, she answered softly, "It's not that simple." She took a seat on a little garden bench next to some shrubs. "I'm not in that place anymore, but I still can't dance like I used to, talk to people like I used to... being there has changed how I do everything in my life now."

Shuffling his feet through the damp grass, Piotr came to sit beside her on the bench, listening.

"I'm different now, and I know everyone can tell, but they either ignore it or treat me like glass," she huffed, then added with an edge of surprise as she realized for the first time, "Except Michelle." Resting her head against her husband's shoulder, she continued, "I just think if everyone was paying attention, you'd all treat me with some reservation, like Michelle does."

He slipped an arm around her, as much to pull her closer as to keep her bare arms warm in the night air. "Has it occurred to you," he asked, "that we know you're different, and we love you just as we always have?"

"I am marked as a murderer," her jaw grew tight, clenching her teeth to keep her emotions from spilling too much. "How can anyone trust me in a house full of children?"

The answer was so obvious to him, he was baffled that she didn't see it herself. "The things you did, you haven’t told me much, but from what you have said -- you acted against your values, your nature. And it bothers you.” He shook his head, "If those things bother you, then deep down, you are still the same person we love. I love.” Glancing up at the stars, Piotr rubbed her arm, took a breath and said, “I think it’s important for you to forgive yourself and move forward.”

Nestled against him, she took a minute to let his answer sink in, mull it over. “I’ll try,” she said, “I mean, I’ve been trying, but...it’s hard. Sometimes the only thing that makes sense is music and moving.” Rhonda looked up at her husband, with his square jaw and chiseled cheeks. It had always been easy to talk to him, pour her heart out, but the Icebox had changed that too. She was afraid he just couldn’t understand, and that if he ever did, she wouldn’t be able to handle his disappointment. “And all this?” she flicked a little shot of lightning off into the grass. “This is all flash. Hank read me the volts and amperage and they aren’t anything useful. Not like when I could power an abandoned warehouse or overload the circuit breakers.” She chewed her lip, trying in vain to stave off tears, dreading saying it aloud: “I’m barely even a mutant anymore.” She concluded scornfully, “I’m a human party trick.”

“Rhonda!” he gasped incredulously. Piotr left the bench to kneel in front of her, and made sure she was looking at his face. His brows met in a hard, angry line. For a moment, he just stared into her face as her teardrop tattoos were slicked with actual tears. Her four-fingered right hand clutched her phone and speaker. His furrow softened as he exhaled. Smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks, he said firmly, “Being a mutant has never been about whatever special thing you can do. Being a mutant is about adapting in order to survive.” Piotr paused, then continued slowly, “You were in dire circumstances that you would not have survived, but you adapted. And for that, you are every bit as mutant as the rest of us, even if you never light another spark again. Do you understand?”

Rhonda sniffled. Her face scrunched as she fought to control her tears, deliberately taking the slowest breaths she could manage so they wouldn’t come out as sobs. Eventually, she nodded.

“Okay,” Piotr said in a soft whisper, “okay.” He laid his hands on hers and rubbed them. “[Rhonda, I love you. You deserve better than hurting all the time.]” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “[You must be exhausted. Ready to go back to bed?]”

Smearing away some tears with her knuckles, she replied, “[Yeah...one more dance first?]” Under the lamp and the stars, he saw her muster the slightest smile.

“[Of course, my love. I’ll watch from the bench here.]”

#colossus x oc #piotr rasputin x oc #angst #fluff #longfic #multipart fic #xmen #marvel #colossus #deadpool 2 #im baaaaack y'all

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chromecutie · 5 years

Text

Not a Ghost - part 6

Taglist: @emma-frxst @ra-ra-rasputiin @holamor @empressme-bitch @marvel-is-perfection @hazilyimagine @marvel-forever-17 @rovvboat (also @angstybadboytrash @whitewitchdown and @master-sass-blast had expressed interest on my original pitch post). Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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Piotr had cleared his calendar for the next few days. Unless there was a dire, critical mission, he wasn’t even attending his X-Men duties. After all, it’s not every day your supposedly killed-in-action wife resurfaces.

He had asked Ellie and Yukio to go get some clothes and other necessities for Rhonda. Ellie didn’t even act reluctant to go. Piotr was humming to himself in the kitchen, cooking large batches of meals and portioning them out. He was eager to see vibrancy return to his wife’s dulled features. The way her eyes used to spark when she laughed, the way her cheeks would get flushed after training, and the way the sun would light her skin and make her glow - he wanted to see that all again.

Drawn by the smell of food, Rhonda found Piotr in the kitchen. “Wow, who’s all that for?”

He beamed, “Oh, mostly you.” He finished with a container he had been filling and set down the spatula. “If something comes up and I have to leave, you won’t have to cook.” Piotr touched a knuckle to her chin, then lifted her in his arms. Muscle memory made Rhonda brace her toes against his leg like she had always done, and they both chuckled. “You know I won’t drop you!” he teased.

“That’s why you’re the only one I let pick me up.” She gave him a light kiss, and meant to pull away, but ended up kissing him harder. In armored form, his lips didn’t have as much give, but he inhaled sharply and couldn’t resist slipping his tongue along her lower lip. His hand found the back of her head and he sank his fingers into her hair. It felt so good, and so right. So much had changed in Rhonda’s absence, but not this.

When they finally pulled apart, Piotr asked softly, “How was your visit with Hank?”

“Oh,” she tried not to let her disappointment and frustration show. She tapped his arm to let her down, and she leaned one hip against the counter. “It sounds like I need time more than anything.”

His thumb touched her cheek, grazing the inked teardrops. “We have all the time in the world, sladkaya. Hungry?”

“Ravenous!” she squared her shoulders, pushing down every heavy feeling. “What smells like sausage over here?”

“Probably the sausage casserole,” he winked. He had eaten already, and made a plate for her.

At Rhonda’s request, they sat outside so she could be near the garden, in the sun. Between mouthfuls, she tapped on his forearm with one knuckle, making small clank-clanks. “So, honey? Is this all the time now?”

Piotr gave a little shrug and nodded. “Mostly.” He shifted and leaned his forearms on the patio table. “Maybe a year after you disappeared, or more, I grew careless on missions. Too eager to run into danger.” He pulled a leaf that had blown into Rhonda’s hair. “I took a...severe injury. And the only way they knew to save me meant I spend a lot more time like this now.”

Rhonda’s brows knit with concern. “Babe,” she sighed and rested a hand on his.

“I can still come out of it,” he added. “It is difficult, and I can’t hold it for long, but…” he trailed off and focused.

The steel melted away in patches, giving way to regular human skin, and dark, soft hair. The shifting didn’t quite reach his eyes before he lost his concentration, and in a second he was all steel again. Disappointed, he spread his hands flat on the table.

Rhonda took a deep breath and another bite of food. “Later’s ok too, honey. Like you said, we’ve got time.”

They watched birds and squirrels dashing over the grounds and when she finished her meal, she draped herself on Piotr’s lap. As nonchalantly as possible, she asked, “What was my funeral like?”

He briefly froze, and mumbled something like, “Why would you want to know?”

Rhonda’s lips twisted in a mischievous half-smile. “I wanna know if you did it right. Come on,” she tucked her head against his cheek.

He grazed his fingers over her hair. “Well, I...don’t remember much about the service. As hard as it was, I couldn’t bury an empty casket.” Piotr could barely hide the cringe in his face as he said, “Don’t be angry, dusha moya, but...I buried your wedding dress.”

She was so surprised, she didn’t know what to do besides laugh.

“I felt it was the closest I had to, well, you.”

Rhonda traced a finger over her husband’s brow. Close like this, she could see his face was all hard angles and tired lines. She remembered how easily he used to laugh.

“Hey,” she stood suddenly and took a few steps backward, “You remember how you used to try to teach me how to do a handstand?”

Piotr raised his eyebrows and scoffed, “You never set your shoulders right or put your hips far enough over.”

She grinned, “Yeah, well…” Taking a couple more steps backward, she put her hands on the grass and kicked up into a decent handstand. It wasn’t quite a gymnast’s form; her spine was a little hyperextended, but her legs were engaged with perfectly pointed toes. When she was stable enough, she even took a few steps, looking almost as solid as walking on her feet. When her balance wavered, she cartwheeled back to her feet.

Smiling in earnest, Piotr asked, “When…? How did you practice?”

Rhonda dusted off her hands, not fully dropping her smile, but it no longer reached her eyes. “Sometimes I was in solitary,” she said, “and, uh, I could try things without worrying about being interrupted.”

Piotr shifted, making the patio chair creak. He took a moment to consider if he really wanted to know the answer, and decided he had to ask anyway. “Why were you in solitary?”

His wife only met his eyes in a brief glance, but she tapped the teardrops on her cheek. Without a word, she picked up her empty plate and headed inside.

#colossus #xmen #deadpool 2 #colossus x oc #piotr rasputin x oc #angst #fanfic

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sugagimmesugar · 5 years

Text

Only Fools Fall for You

After seeing the insane amounts of BTS imagines and fanfictions I have decided to join the fun!

This is the beginning of a story I am writing at the moment. Its readerXNamjoon. And its music centered. I have one song per chapter that is “featured” and I am currently working on the playlist that is mentioned in the story as well as a playlist to convey the general emotions/moods in the story.

For now I am posting the first 1.5k world of what I have written so far. Please tell me what you think!

Fluff! ; OffDuty!Namjoon; Student!Y/N ; set in sweden

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Namjoon only wanted to discover yet another new town, so he spent the day wandering through the streets, occasionally popping into a shop for this and that.

He found a table in a lonely corner and left his bag and jacket there “claiming” it for himself.

The shop was fairly empty, as to be expected on a monday in septembre. So he didn't worry about being recognized, and just went on to browse the endless shelves of records. With a low chuckle he discovered the “K-Pop” section. It was obvious that K-Pop had not quite reached this country yet, no matter how huge it already was in other parts of europe. The “section” only consisted of one shelf which was 90% BTS and then some BlackPink. He quickly moved on to the more general selection, getting stuck, as always, on Rap.

“Hej, behöver du nån hjälp?”, he hears a voice behind him.

“Huh, sorry?”, he turns around, slightly startled by the store’s clerk, a girl around his age.

“Haha it’s fine, I am just looking around a bit. You guys have a huge selection here so I’m just taking my time. Thank you, though.”

She laughs, and looking around the store she heads straight for the pop section.

“I will check out whatever you recommend, you’re the pro!”

“I’ll set up a listening booth for you with his albums and bring you back your stuff.”, she grins triumphantly. “As I said before, just holla if you want or need anything else.”

A few minutes later he is set up in a booth, just as she said. To top it off, he got some coffee.

“What did you think? His voice is pretty amazing, huh?”

“Unfortunately I was a bit distracted, I didnt manage to catch much of the music.”

“Oh sorry, that must be my fault, huh?” Another wink. It must be his lucky day.

Is she flirting? No, it’s her job to be nice to customers, she is being cute for tips.

“Sure, show me all your favourites. I promise I will buy one album from your recommendations. I’ll finish my coffee and then I’ll join you.”, he smirks.

As he is sipping his coffee, he pulls out his phone to check what the others are up to.

Hobi: “Why the FUCK is it so cold here?”

Jin: “We are in Scandinavia, if u didnt notice. It’s cold here….”

Tae: “Stop being a pussy Hoseok” *image attached of the maknae line eating ice cream by the seashore*

Hobi: “….”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh, everything is as usual. Yoongi has sent him a rough mockup of a track for the next album and he plays it while checking the personal chats with the other members.

JK: “Hyung where r u”

JK: “We are somewhere at the seashore, Tae just kinda went off track somewhere….”

JK: “turns out we were just like 1 street away from a bus stop so, uh, no need to worry… we found our way to some ice cream”

JK: “since i can see youre not even reading these i guess youre having a good time. Cya”

He rolls his eyes, of course the youngest ones almost got lost in another foreign country. He quickly types an answer.

Looking up from his phone, he catches Her staring at him. She winks at him and pats the bar in front of her. He shoots her a quick smile back and gets back to checkin in on the guys.