#it’s not like they were losing money but it being available??

[brutal-out-here]

Will forever be upset Disney decided to just pretend Willow the series never existed after making us believe there would be two more seasons

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today��what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Billionaire-proofing the internet

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

During the Napster wars, the record labels seriously pissed off millions of internet users when they sued over 19,000 music fans, mostly kids, but also grannies, old people, and dead people.

It's hard to overstate how badly the labels behaved. Like, there was the Swarthmore student who was the maintainer of a free/open source search engine that indexed files available in public sharepoints on the LAN. The labels sued him for millions and millions (the statutory damages for digital copyright infringement runs to $150,000 per file) and, when he begged for a settlement, said that they would accept his life's savings, but only if he changed majors and stopped studying Computer Science.

No, really.

What's more, none of the money the labels extracted from teenagers, grandparents (and the dead) went to artists. The labels just kept it all, while continuing to insist that they were doing all this because they wanted to "protect artists."

One thing everyone agreed on was how disgusted we all were with the labels. What we didn't agree on was what to do about it. A lot of us wanted to reform copyright – say, by creating a blanket license for internet music so that artists could get paid directly. This was the systemic approach.

Another group – call them the "individualists" – wanted a boycott. Just stop buying and listening to music from the major labels. Every dollar you spend with a label is being used to fund a campaign of legal terror. Merely enjoying popular music makes you part of the problem.

You can probably guess which group I was in. Leaving aside the futility of "voting with your wallet" (a rigged ballot that's always won by the people with the thickest wallet), I just thought this was bad tactics.

Here's what I would say when people told me we should all stop listening to popular music: "If members of your popular movement are not allowed to listen to popular music, your movement won't be very popular."

We weren't going to make political change by creating an impossible purity test ("Ew, you listen to music from a major label? God, what's wrong with you?"). I mean, for one thing, a lot of popular music is legitimately fantastic and makes peoples' lives better. Popular movements should strive to increase their members' joy, not demand their deprivation. Again, not merely because this is a nice thing to do for people, but also because it's good tactics to make participation in the thing you're trying to do as joyous as possible.

Which brings me to social media. The problem with social media is that the people we love and want to interact with are being held prisoner in walled gardens. The mechanism of their imprisonment is the "switching costs" of leaving. Our friends and communities are on bad social media networks because they love each other more than they hate Musk or Zuck. Leaving a social platform can cost you contact with family members in the country you emigrated from, a support group of people who share your rare disease, the customers or audience you rely on for your livelihood, or just the other parents organizing your kid's little league game.

Hypothetically, you could organize all these people to leave at once, go somewhere else, and re-establish all your social connections. Practically, the "collective action problem" of doing so is nearly insurmountable. This is what platform owners depend on – it's why they know they can enshittify their services without losing users. So long as the pain of using the service is lower than the pain of leaving it, the companies can turn the screws on users to make their lives worse in order to extract more profit from them. This is why Musk killed the block button and why Zuck fired all his moderators. Why bear the expense of doing something nice for users if they'll still stick around even if you cut a ton of headcount and/or expensive compute?

There's a way out of this, thankfully. When social media is federated, then you can leave a server without leaving your friends. Think of it as being similar to changing cell-phone companies. When you switch from Verizon to T-Mobile, you keep your number, you keep your address book and you keep your friends, who won't even know you switched networks unless you tell them:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/29/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms/

There's no reason social media couldn't work this way. You should be able to leave Facebook or Twitter for Mastodon, Bluesky, or any other service and still talk with the people you left behind, provided they still want to talk with you:

https://www.eff.org/interoperablefacebook

That's how the Fediverse – which Mastodon is part of – works already. You can switch from one Mastodon server to another, and all the people you follow and who follow you will just move over to that new server. That means that if the person or company or group running your server goes sour, you aren't stuck making a choice between the people you love who connect to you on that server, and the pain of dealing with whatever bullshit the management is throwing off:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/23/semipermeable-membranes/#free-as-in-puppies

We could make that stronger! Data protection laws like the EU's GDPR and California's CCPA create a legal duty for online services to hand over your data on demand. Arguably, these laws already require your Mastodon server's management to give you the files you need to switch from one server to another, but that could be clarified. Handing these files over to users on demand is really straightforward – even a volunteer running a small server for a few friends will have no trouble living up to this obligation. It's literally just a minute's work for each user.

Another way to make this stronger is through governance. Many of the great services that defined the old, good internet were run by "benevolent dictators for life." This worked well, but failed so badly. Even if the dictator for life stayed benevolent, that didn't make them infallible. The problem of a dictatorship isn't just malice – it's also human frailty. For a service to remain good over long timescales, it needs accountable, responsive governance. That's why all the most successful BDFL services (like Wikipedia) transitioned to community-managed systems:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/10/bdfl/#high-on-your-own-supply

There, too, Mastodon shines. Mastodon's founder Eugen Rochko has just explicitly abjured his role as "ultimate decision-maker" and handed management over to a nonprofit:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2025/01/mastodon-becomes-nonprofit-to-make-sure-its-never-ruined-by-billionaire-ceo/

I love using Mastodon and I have a lot of hope for its future. I wish I was as happy with Bluesky, which was founded with the promise of federation, and which uses a clever naming scheme that makes it even harder for server owners to usurp your identity. But while Bluesky has added many, many technically impressive features, they haven't delivered on the long-promised federation:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/02/ulysses-pact/#tie-yourself-to-a-federated-mast

Bluesky sure seems like a lot of fun! They've pulled tens of millions of users over from other systems, and by all accounts, they've all having a great time. The problem is that without federation, all those users are vulnerable to bad decisions by management (perhaps under pressure from the company's investors) or by a change in management (perhaps instigated by investors if the current management refuses to institute extractive measures that are good for the investors but bad for the users). Federation is to social media what fire-exits are to nightclubs: a way for people to escape if the party turns deadly:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/14/fire-exits/#graceful-failure-modes

So what's the answer? Well, around Mastodon, you'll hear a refrain that reminds me a lot of the Napster wars: "People who are enjoying themselves on Bluesky are wrong to do so, because it's not federated and the only server you can use is run by a VC-backed for-profit. They should all leave that great party – there's no fire exits!"

This is the social media version of "To be in our movement, you have to stop listening to popular music." Sure, those people shouldn't be crammed into a nightclub that has no fire exits. But thankfully, there is an alternative to being the kind of scold who demands that people leave a great party, and being the kind of callous person who lets tens of millions of people continue to risk their lives by being stuck in a fire-trap.

We can install our own fire-exits in Bluesky.

Yesterday, an initiative called "Free Our Feeds" launched, with a set of goals for "billionaire-proofing" social media. One of those goals is to add the long-delayed federation to Bluesky. I'm one of the inaugural endorsers for this, because installing fire exits for Bluesky isn't just the right thing to do, it's also good tactics:

https://freeourfeeds.com/

Here's why: if a body independent of the Bluesky corporation implements its federation services, then we ensure that its fire exits are beyond the control of its VCs. That means that if they are ever tempted in future to brick up the fire-exits, they won't be able to. This isn't a hypothetical risk. When businesses start to enshittify their services, they fully commit themselves to blocking anything that makes it easy to leave those services.

That's why Apple went so hard after Beeper Plus, a service that enhanced iMessage's security by making conversations between Apple and Android users as private as chats that were confined to Apple users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/07/blue-bubbles-for-all/#never-underestimate-the-determination-of-a-kid-who-is-time-rich-and-cash-poor

It's why Elon Musk periodically freaks out and suspends users who list their Mastodon userids in their Twitter bios:

https://techcrunch.com/2022/12/15/elon-musk-suspends-mastodon-twitter-account-over-elonjet-tracking/

And it's why Meta will suspend your account if you link to Pixelfed, a Fediverse-based alternative to Instagram:

https://www.404media.co/meta-is-blocking-links-to-decentralized-instagram-competitor-pixelfed/

Once upon a time, we had a solid way of overcoming the problem of lock-in. We'd reverse-engineer a proprietary system and make a free, open alternative. We've been hacking fire exits into walled gardens since the Usenet days, with the creation of the alt.* hierarchy:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/11/altinteroperabilityadversarial

When the corporate owners of Unix started getting all weird about source-code access and user-modifiability, we didn't insist that Unix users were bad people for sticking with a corporate OS. We reverse-engineered Unix and set all those users free:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GNU_Project

The answer to Microsoft's proprietary SMB network protocol wasn't a campaign to shame people for having SMB running on their LANs. It was reverse-engineering SMB and making SAMBA, which is now in every single device in your home and office, and it's gloriously free as in speech and free as in beer:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/samba-versus-smb-adversarial-interoperability-judo-network-effects

In the years since, a thicket of laws we colloquially call "IP" has grown up around services and products, and people have literally forgotten that there is an alternative to wheedling people to endure the pain of leaving a proprietary system for a free one. IP has put the imaginations of people who dream of a free internet in chains.

We can do better than begging people to leave a party they're enjoying; we can install our own fucking fire exits. Sure, maybe that means that a lot of those users will stay on the proprietary platform, but at least we'll have given them a way to leave if things go horribly wrong.

After all, there's no virtue in software freedom. The only thing worth caring about is human freedom. The only reason to value software freedom is if it sets humans free.

If I had my way, all those people enjoying themselves on Bluesky would come and enjoy themselves in the Fediverse. But I'm not a purist. If there's a way to use Bluesky without locking myself to the platform, I will join the party there in a hot second. And if there's a way to join the Bluesky party from the Fediverse, then goddamn I will party my ass off.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/14/contesting-popularity/#everybody-samba

[naughtyneganjdm]

Man for Hire

Summary: Eager to lose your virginity, you hire Negan who is a male escort to help you with your problem.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55642924

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Little To No Plot, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, etc.

Notes: This is the first thing I've been able to write in a long time because school and work have been taking up most of time. This is really just a filthy one shot. I almost considered making this a short story for a while, but then decided to go with a one shot because...why not? (gif credit: @jdmorganz)

What the fuck were you doing here? That was really the question. The silence was eating away at you. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest and you were nervous. You’d never done something like this before. And you were starting to second guess your decision in making such a bold move.

Looking to the time, you felt the lump in your throat growing and your nerves heightened once you saw how close to the time you were waiting for actually was. This was so outside of your comfort zone. Spending money on something like this just didn’t seem logical in the end. Here you were sitting in the middle of an expensive suite at a very nice hotel in the middle of the city. The sights were beautiful and you were enjoying yourself, but the reason you were here is what had you so nervous.

Truth was? You were meeting someone. Well, kind of. You were paying someone to meet you here. Which was complicated in itself. If people were to find out that you were doing this, it would be hard to explain. At the end of the day, it was something that your best friend had convinced you would be good for you. You were in your early twenties and you were still a virgin. It wasn’t something that you originally felt bad about, but it always made things complicated when you went to date someone. There was always that stigma there of being a virgin. And you were never really comfortable enough to tell someone you were dating that you were one. There was also no one you ever felt comfortable enough with to actually have them take it. Sure, you’d fooled around with a few people, but you never actually followed through with all of it. You were just always so busy working and going to school that you never felt the need for sex. Now that you were older, well, it felt awkward being the only virgin that you knew. It was an embarrassing thing, so the only person who really knew at the time was your best friend. Who convinced you it would be for the best if you hired a professional to help you out with your ‘problem’. That way there was no judgement, it would be done by someone who should know what they were doing and you could hand pick who you wanted it to be. You wouldn’t have to worry about the dating process, you could just have sex and that would be that.

It's just the closer you got to everything, the more pathetic you felt. Your friend had found a couple of sites for you that you looked at together. Then you found one that you felt comfortable with and connected with the woman in charge. The woman was very personable, but straight to business. She sent you a list of men that would be available for you. She had asked you for some details and you were honest with her as to why you were doing this. There was no reason not to be.

After taking some time to look through your choices, you came to a profile that you ended up being immediately enchanted with. Negan. There were a lot of younger, muscular men that they were trying to sell, but you had always been attracted to men older than you. But from the first photo you were immediately drawn to the chiseled jawline of the man sitting on a motorcycle. He was wearing a leather jacket that was opened to reveal a gray Henley that laid underneath. A pair of worn-down leather jeans and black sunglasses. From the confident smile to his salt and pepper colored beard you were hooked instantly. Every photo you saw only drew you further in. In other photos his incredible dimples and gorgeous hazel eyes made you more confident that this would be your choice. Even the tattoos that covered his body made him more attractive to you. This was a man that would have caught your attention immediately if you saw him on the street. To say you were attracted to him would be an understatement.

After looking through the rest of the profiles that you were sent, you returned back to the woman that was in charge with the name that you wanted. At first, she tried to convince you to go with someone else. Even though she admitted Negan was one of their most popular escorts, she tried to give you other suggestions of who she thought would be better for your certain situation. A lot of them were the younger ‘cuter’ boys, but cute wasn’t exactly what you wanted. Once she realized that she wouldn’t be able to convince you otherwise, she agreed and set up this meeting. Negan was more expensive and the prices varied by the amount of time you wanted. Two hours, four hours or the overnight rate. You really thought two hours would be plenty enough, but your friend convinced you to get the whole night. You didn’t know why. You were just going to have sex with this guy and be over with it. Having him there with you afterwards would only make things awkward. You couldn’t change your mind now though. You already paid.

A knock on the door to your hotel room pulled you from your thoughts. It jumpstarted your heart in your chest and you felt incredibly nervous now. Standing up from where you were seated, you adjusted the material of the tight fitting black dress that you were wearing. Making your way over to the door, you nervously outstretched your hand to turn the doorknob and felt the breath leave your lungs when you pulled it open. Leaning against the doorframe stood the man from the profile, his hazel eyes looking over you curiously. A charming smirk tugged at his lips while he gazed over you. What he was wearing actually surprised you. It was a bit different from the photos in his profile, but you didn’t hate it. He was well groomed, his body donned in a very expensive looking black suit that was only buttoned in the middle drawing your eyes to the white button down that was underneath. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone revealing the thick curls of hair over the center of his naked chest.  

You were so distracted taking all of him in, that you missed when he said your name. Speaking louder, the tone of his deep, raspy voice sent chills down your spine. In his right hand, he had a single red rose and outstretched his hand to you when he finally got your eyes to lock with his.

“Can I come in?” he questioned, his nose wrinkling in amusement when he realized you must have been gawking at him. God, you must have looked like a fool just standing there in the doorway staring. Pushing the door open, you allowed him into the suite and accepted the rose when he stepped before you.

“Thank you. This is very sweet,” you commented on the gesture knowing that you were expecting a much different scenario than this one. Closing the door behind you, you noticed that he was standing rather close to you and it made a breath catch in your throat. Fuck. That’s when you noticed the smell of his cologne. It smelled amazing and only made him even more attractive. How was that even possible? Stepping forward, his hazel eyes stared down at you and it made you feel incredibly hot with how close he was.

Lowering down, the warmth of his breath lingered over your lips before he pressed a kiss over the side of your face. It drew your eyes to close, your lips parting when the kiss lingered and when they opened again, you could see him pulling back with a big smile over his face. The dimples were even sexier in person. Suddenly, you weren’t regretting your decision so much.

“You look gorgeous,” he started off, immediately complimenting you nodding toward the dress that you were wearing. “That dress looks really nice on you.”

“And look at you,” you waved your hand about pointing toward what he was wearing. “You look really sharp. I wasn’t expecting this whole getup with you showing up today.”

“Oh? This old thing,” Negan smirked, unhooking the button of the suit jacket before pushing his hands into his pockets and shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s just say the woman in charge thought it would be a nice touch considering everything.”

“Oh, so you know?” you paused realizing that of course he knew that you were a virgin. He would have to know since that’s why you were doing this whole thing to begin with. “You probably think I’m a loser.”

“Why would I think that?” his eyebrows furrowed, a muscle in his jaw flexing when he tipped his head to the side. “Every person’s situation is different. Who the fuck am I to judge? That’s not my job to judge.”

“And what is your job exactly?” you spoke quietly and he snickered. God that was stupid. “I mean, I know you’re an escort. I just, should I call you Negan? I don’t even know if that is your real name. It’s probably not, right?”

“No, that’s my real name,” he admitted with a bob of his head, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip in a confident sweep. “I probably should use a fake name considering the job, but I like being authentically me. And to answer your question, my job is different for everyone. It’s my job to find out what someone needs so I can give it to them.”  

“Smooth,” you outstretched your hand to his which he accepted and followed you over to the couch. First, he helped you sit before taking a seat next to you. A chill flooded through your veins. You understood why Negan was one of their most popular escorts. He was in here a few minutes and you were already ready to jump him. Setting the rose down on the coffee table before you, you turned toward him and felt bold in the moment. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here Negan. I’ve never done something like this before. Obviously.”

“What do you want to do? You have me for the whole night,” he reminded you, outstretching his hand to push a piece of hair out of your face. Sweeping his thumb in over your jawline had you leaning into the warmth of him with your eyes fluttering to a close. “Did you want to go out for a night out on the town? Do you just want to hang out? Or…we can just jump right into things.”

“You mean sex?” you blurt out probably too fast which had him smirking and bobbing his head.

“That is what I mean, yes,” Negan’s deep voice rumbled with him sliding in closer to you. His arm hooked around the back of you with the warmth of his breath hovering over your bare shoulder. Suddenly the smell of his cologne filtered through your lungs. Desire overtook you and you had to keep yourself from throwing yourself at him right then and there. A minty scent also fell from his lips from a gum that he undoubtedly had been chewing on before he had showed up. “It’s all up to you what you want. What your fantasy is.”

As he spoke, Negan’s head lowered closer to the crook of your neck. Nuzzling his nose in against your flesh had you sucking in a sharp breath of air which was followed by him depositing a faint kiss over your neck.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but do you think we can talk first?” you wondered standing up from the couch which seemed to surprise Negan a bit, but he nodded as you headed over toward the bottles of alcohol that were in the corner of the room. You should have just jumped him right then and there, but your nerves were getting the best of you. “Do you want some bourbon?”

“I’m more of a gin guy,” he responded, standing up from the couch when you looked through the bottles and pulled something out that you thought he would like. “Is everything okay?”

“You want me to be honest?” you spoke faintly while you poured both him and you a drink hoping that it would help settle your nerves. With a nod of his head, Negan smirked and stood by the window to look down at the city beneath you. The bright colors were reflecting on the walls and he seemed to be in awe of the lights. Stepping in beside him, you held out the drink you got for him which he accepted, with his fingers brushing up against yours. “I’m starting to regret doing this.”

“Am I not what you expected?” suddenly he seemed almost offended, clutching the glass tightly in his hands when he turned to look at you. “I told Michonne that I should have just warn what I usually do because…”

“No, you’re perfect,” you immediately interrupted him, placing your hand over the center of his chest to get him to focus on you. “God, you are fucking gorgeous. And that’s the thing. You are this beautiful man and I’m a virgin that you are going to have sex with. I’m probably going to be awful and…”

“Oh,” an amused chuckle fell from Negan’s lips when he took a sip of the drink, his free hand placing in over yours to give it a firm squeeze. Swallowing down the sip, he looked to you and shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. Please don’t. It’s not something to worry about. People who have sex all the time sometimes aren’t even that good. Plus, my job is to make everything perfect for you. Whether we have sex or not. Don’t let the expectations of sex distract you and make you nervous. I’m a very chill fucking guy. You’ll walk away with a good experience by the morning, I promise you that.”

“Cocky,” you smirked, throwing back your drink in hopes it would give you some liquid courage. “I like it.”

“I just know I’m good at my job,” Negan assured you with a wink, finishing off his drink and setting the glass down, taking yours as well. Urging you back to the couch, he sat you down and took your hands in his when he lowered beside you. “I get the feeling you’d like us to get more comfortable with one another, so we will just talk for a while if that’s what you want. Or we can go out.”

“We can talk,” you were impressed with the way he was attempting to calm you down with the rough pad of his thumbs sweeping over the back of your hands. “Michonne tells me that you are one of her top escorts.”

“I told you, I’m good at my job,” Negan winked, his dimples becoming more prominent when he smiled and it took your breath away.

“So you must be really good at sex?” you suggested and it made him smirk again. You probably sounded really stupid right now, but you were curious.

“That and I’m the best at making people feel good. Not everyone that wants to have an escort wants sex. They want to feel special. They want to feel like the center of the universe and I’m good at that. I excel at reading people,” he explained, curling his finger underneath your chin to get you to tip your head back to look at him. With his eyes hooked on yours, you felt exactly the way that he described. Like the center of the world. “Some people are just looking for companionship. And I’m able to give that to them.”

“Fuck,” you exhaled with how close he was to you. Personal space wasn’t something that existed with Negan, but he was right. He was good at his job. “You know, Michonne tried to persuade me to get someone else instead of you. I’m curious as to why.”

“Well, she’s not exactly my biggest fan. Her husband and I have never really been able to get along,” he expressed with a wicked smirk, shrugging his shoulders when he spoke. “When people look at me, they assume that I wouldn’t be a good choice to take someone’s virginity.”

“She wanted me to pick someone like Siddiq,” you explained and Negan scoffed at your response. It felt like he was getting closer to you if that was even possible. “Thing is, I don’t want boyishly cute men.”

“Of course you don’t and you made a good choice,” Negan hushed you, his eyes now focused on your lips which had you frozen in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb drew across your bottom lip and it had you leaning in closer to him. “You want a man to take care of you. Because older men know what’s best. They do it better. And I’ll take really good care of you.”

After the final word left his lips, Negan’s lips hovered in over yours drawing your eyelashes to flutter to a close. Claiming your lips in a faint kiss had you leaning in closer to him. Your body’s reaction to him was almost instinctive when you started kissing him back. The sensation of his fingertips sliding in over the small of your back was felt urging you in closer to him. Every caress of his lips ignited the fire inside of you more for him with the rough sensation of his short beard at your flesh.

Pulling away, Negan’s eyes were closed and he was smirking when his long eyelashes fluttered to an open, “You’re a special one. I can tell.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the people you see,” you commented with a half-smile, finding yourself wanting him to kiss you again with the way he was touching your face.

“We could work on your confidence though,” Negan hushed you, bringing you to him again so he could nip at your bottom lip. Giving it a gentle tug, he flicked the tip of his tongue out over the inside of your bottom lip making you purr. “You are a beautiful, charming, young woman. You could have given your virginity to anyone, and you picked me.”

Instead of responding, you leaned in to desperately bring your lips together again with Negan humming. When his lips parted, you brushed your tongue against his which had him sucking faintly at your tongue when you pulled back. The more you kissed, the more intense it seemed to get with his large palm sliding up over your side.

Hooking your fingers into his dark hair, you tugged firmly at it which had him growling out against your lips. With his tongue flicking out over yours, you found a sense of confidence in stroking your fingers over the center of his chest to tease at the thick curls of hair that covered it. Lifting your hands, you started to open the buttons in Negan’s shirt, eager to see more of him and he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Instead, his lips just trailed off over your jawline, over the side of your neck and to your shoulder to push at the strap of your dress to get it down over your arm to kiss at the flesh that was there.

Tipping your head back, your eyes connected with his when you got the last button undone and pushed apart the material of his shirt. Palming up and over the center of his abdomen toward his chest, you were in awe of his slender form. His lips were parted, his breathing heavy while you learned the lines of his body. Tracing your fingertips over the detailed tattoo over his pectoral muscle, you didn’t know how you were going to get away with this whole thing considering you were already addicted to this man and you barely knew him. Pushing into his chest, you got him to slide back so you could crawl in over his lap. Looking up at you, you agreed that he was good at his job because he had the look of absolute want in his eyes with you over him.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Negan slurred, lifting up to hungrily kiss at the side of your neck, reaching for the other strap of your dress to tug at it. With a grunt, Negan tugged at the material getting it pulled down your body to about your navel which revealed your breasts to him with a bounce. It had him tipping back to look you over with his adoration in his eyes. A wicked smirk tugged at his handsome features when he tipped his head down to start peppering kisses in over your collar bone. Hooking your fingers into his hair, you tipped your head back with his wet kisses covering the swell of your breast. Surrounding your nipple with the warmth of his mouth had your head tipping back with a moan. Sounds of his wet kisses surrounded you, his hands squeezing firmly at your hips. There was no questioning that Negan was very dominant in the way that Negan touched and kissed you, but you liked it.

With a swirl of his tongue over your nipple, he nipped at the sensitive flesh before trailing his kisses over to your other breast where he pampered it just the same. Yanking firmly on his hair, you had him staring up at you with his dilated pupils which took your breath away. Stealing a forceful kiss from his lips had him moaning. You two were just jumping right in, but it felt right in the way that it was happening. Negan’s fingers had dropped to squeeze at the back of your thighs to caress the flesh that was there. Sliding further up, he cupped your bottom under the material of your dress and gave it a firm squeeze.

“You don’t kiss like a virgin,” Negan growled, smacking firmly over your bottom eliciting a gasp followed by a moan from you. Staring over your body, his eyes focused in over your breasts and he sucked at his bottom lip.

“How do virgins kiss?” you wondered, dragging your fingers across his wet bottom lip. A snicker fell from his lips before he took one of your fingertips into his mouth. Nibbling faintly at the tip, he followed by flicking his tongue out against it making you purr.

“For the most part? They are shy? Timid,” he slurred, lifting up enough to hover his lips just in over yours. “Inside of you is a dirty girl just waiting to break free from the restraints you put on her.”

“Maybe you can help her break free,” you whispered, caressing over his chiseled jawline and it had him leaning in closer to you. A growl fell from deep within him when you teased the tip of your tongue over his lips and he reached to pull you in closer to him so he could claim your lips again in a hungry kiss. The taste of him was addictive. The more you had of him, the more you wanted him. Your blood was pumping through your veins with your heartbeat hammering inside of your chest. A flush went to your face and a warmth was flooding to your core.

Confidence overtook you and gradually you ground yourself down over Negan. Dropping his head back against the couch, his hands slid down over your hips while you took your time rubbing up against him enjoying the friction that it caused between the two of you. Beneath the material of his pants, the firmness of his masculinity was growing harder and you could feel it pressed against your bottom. It felt good and by the sounds he was making, he approved.

“Good girl. I think we’re breaking down the walls pretty fucking quickly here,” Negan insisted, the vibration of his words against your flesh causing you to moan. Dragging your palms down over the center of his chest toward his lower abdomen had a sharp exhale falling from his throat. His eyes were still locked on yours when you dragged your fingers across the belt in his pants. Lifting his hips, Negan attempted to help you when you started to pull the belt out of the loops. Tugging at the material had a rumble of an amused sound escaping him. Dragging his thumb across your bottom lip sent chills throughout your veins. “Y’know what you want now darlin’, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a smirk when you started working open the material of his pants. How this man looked at you took your breath away. Curling your fingers at the waistband of his pants, he lifted his hips up to help you get the material down his slender body. A surprised breath fell from your parted lips with the way his erection smacked up against his lower abdomen. Licking your lips, you stare lifted to his eyes. Arrogance flooded his features when a crack of a smile tugged at his lips. “And suddenly I see why Michonne suggested someone else for my first time.”

“Does that mean you don’t think you can take it?” he inquired, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity with you reaching down to trace your fingertips over the underside of the shaft. Just the mere touch had his cock twitching and he bit down on his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been one to back down from a big challenge,” you responded and with a bob of his head, Negan seemed proud of you. Teasing your fingertips from just under the head of his cock down toward the base had him licking his lips in a seductive sweep.

“Thatta girl,” Negan snickered with your fingers curling around his shaft, drawing his hips to bounce up toward your grasp. Sliding in further over his lap, you took your time caressing over his body appreciating the way his eyelids grew heavy with lust. Your thumb swept over the ridge of the tip of his cock and he growled out. “I promise you, you’re gonna love what he’s gonna do for you.”

“I’m not scared of him,” you assured him with a wink enjoying the amused sound that escape his lips before his deep, raspy moan followed. Kissing down over his jawline, you took your time pampering his body knowing that while this was technically meant to be about you, you wanted to cherish the perfect specimen of the man beneath you. Nipping faintly at the side of his neck had him hissing out while you pushed his shirt further apart to reveal his chest to you. Adjusting your positioning over him, you started to kiss down over his collarbone and over the center of his chest. Lifting your palms, you stroked your fingers through the dark curls of hair over his chest and swallowed down hard. “You are fucking gorgeous.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he clicked his tongue at the top of his mouth, humming out again when you leaned forward to kiss over the center of his chest. Your kisses tampered off over his nipple appreciating the moan you got when you circled your tongue around the flesh. Whimpering out, it was almost hard to focus when Negan’s palm flattened out between your thighs to caress over the warmth of your body. It had your hips arching in closer to him when you sucked faintly at Negan’s skin. “You are so fucking wet already.”

It surprised him when you pulled away from him and moved so that you were sitting beside him. Lowering your upper half, you pressed tiny kisses over his abdomen and toward the v line over his hips leaving his flesh with hot wet kisses. Purring out, you felt Negan’s fingers caressing over your shoulders and toward your neck with your kisses lowering down. Sinking his fingers into your hair had you mewling out. You liked how it felt like he was being possessive with you. Delicately wrapping your fingers around the thick base of Negan’s cock, you stroked over it a few times before pressing a faint kiss at the tip. It had him growling out and you loved the sound it drew from him. Dragging your tongue across the tip made you purr out when his fingers grasped tighter to your hair.

Flattening your tongue out over the tip collected the taste of him on your tongue. Focusing heavily on the teasing aspect of it all, you pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses over his lengthy erection causing his breathing to grow louder. By the time you finally took him between your parted lips, it drew the most intoxicating moan from him. With his girthy length, you were doing your best to pleasure him to the best of your ability, working to jerk him off at the same time while bobbing your head over his length. The strength of Negan’s hand at the back of your head also helped set a steady pace that you were comfortable with.

Once you seemed to have a handle on things, you felt Negan’s palm sliding down over your shoulders, over your back before extending out over your bottom to give it a firm squeeze. Another smack over your flesh had you moaning around his cock. It had him twitching beneath you. The wet sounded of your mouth filled the quiet hotel room. Pulling away with a wet sound, you stroked your hand over his body when you lifted your stare to see that he was watching you with awe.

“Lay back,” Negan instructed, getting up from the couch with his hard cock bobbing with the movement. Carefully pulling off his jacket, he set it on the back of the couch and eagerly slid out of his button-down shirt. Tossing it with the jacket, Negan took his time to shimmy out of his pants after managing to pull his boots off. Snapping his fingers, you obeyed his order when you carefully lowered yourself back against the couch. Your heart was hammering in your chest when Negan grabbed a tight hold of the material of your dress to get it down your body leaving you laying stretched out on the couch in just your black panties. Getting to his knees, he hooked his fingers loosely into your panties, urging you to lift your hips with the tug of them. “How did you know black was my favorite color?”

“Lucky I guess,” you whispered, a tingling sensation at your skin with the way that he was looking over you as he unhurriedly pulled the material from your body. Tossing the material aside, Negan brought your leg up depositing a gentle kiss over the inside of your ankle with his eyes locked on you. Gradually, his kisses raised further up your leg having you a breathless mess when he got to your knee.

“If you’re ever uncomfortable, just let me know,” he slurred, nipping faintly at your flesh before lowering down onto the couch getting himself comfortable between your thighs. Curling his arms around your thighs and under your hips, Negan pulled you in closer to him getting a gasp from you and it made him smile. “You have a very pretty pussy. It’s a shame you haven’t been letting someone pamper it like it deserves.”

Reaching up, the roughness of the pad of his thumbs traced a line over your sensitive folds and it had you dropping your head back, biting down on your bottom lip with a mewl. Down his fingers went over the lips, toward your entrance before circling back to go up and sweeping over your clitoris. It had you panting, his eyes watching you closely to see how you responded to things.

“Good girl,” Negan hummed, lifting his fingers up to suck faintly at the tips. “Daddy is gonna take real good care of you.”

Hearing him refer to himself as daddy sent a jolt straight to your core and you purred out, your hips arching up toward him with him releasing a sound of approval. Doing the same dance over your sensitive flesh, Negan started to pepper kisses over the inside of your thigh. Your breath was hitching in your throat and you wanted to tip your head back, but you couldn’t. You wanted to watch the beautiful man between your thighs that was there solely aiming to do nothing but please you.

Each kiss grew closer until the wet sounds of him kissing over your heated flesh was heard. Licking your lips, something that resembled a whine fell from them and he smiled against your flesh. Dragging out his tongue, he flattened it over the length of your folds dragging it from your entrance which had you tremoring upon contact up to your clitoris where his tongue circled before back again.

It was about learning your body and Negan was doing just that. Paying close attention to everything that made you react. With his lips surrounding your clitoris you found the cries that fell from you involuntary. Each sound you made seemed to fuel him only enhancing the sensation of what he was doing. And by the sounds he was making against your flesh? He seemed to be enjoying himself just as much, finding pleasure in the sounds he could draw from you.

Grunting out, he pushed into your thighs to lift your hips in closer to him. Dropping your fingers down, you hooked them into his dark hair when you felt his tongue circling your entrance before dipping inside of you with a strong sweep. Cooing out, you tugged firmly at his hair having him groan against your most sacred parts. A wet sound filled the air when Negan pulled back away from your body, licking at his wet lips.

Adjusting his body, he hooked his arm around one of your thighs while his free hand lifted to drag his fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Sliding them down, Negan lifted his head when his middle finger circled over your entrance. Tipping your head back against the couch, you whimpered when he took his time pressing his long slender digit inside of you. A raspy moan fell from his throat when he felt the warmth of your body surround his finger and it made him smile.

“You okay?” he confirmed pressing a wet kiss at the inside of your thigh, leaving a tiny nip at your flesh when he pulled back. Nodding, you didn’t have much that you could say because you were so focused on the sensation. When he had the okay that you were comfortable enough, he started to drag his finger back before pressing forward into your body again. Biting down onto your bottom lip, you whimpered as Negan’s lips surrounded your clitoris sucking at the sensitive nub. Every part of you felt hot. He was taking his time with you, not trying to rush things and he was doing a hell of a job with it. Your body was already trembling and he knew what he was doing to you when he inserted another finger into you. One thing about Negan’s fingers? They were big and he knew just where to caress inside of you to have your writhing beneath him, your hips arching up toward the talented caress of his lips and tongue over your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasped, lifting your head to watch him while he pumped his fingers inside of you, hitting a certain spot that had your toes curling, your fingers clinging tighter to his hair and your cries growing louder. Loud, wet, slurping sounds were filling the air and an occasional moan from Negan would vibrate against your flesh. Your thighs tensed up, starting to twitch when you tried to hold back, but with what he was doing at feasting on your body had you moaning out his name. A pleased groan pressed against your flesh when the thrusting of his fingers grew stronger when he clearly got you to an orgasm. Your muscles tensed up, a rush flooding to your head leaving you absolutely breathless. “Oh my God.”

“And that’s just the start,” Negan snickered after pulling his mouth away from your body. When his fingers left you, a whimper followed. Seeing him using those same fingers to drag them across his bottom lip had your heart hammering harder inside of your chest. Sucking at his fingers, Negan groaned at the taste of you over them before reaching for you. Managing to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder had you gasping and clinging tightly to him. A firm smack was placed to your bottom and it made you moan. “Daddy’s got you darlin’. Don’t worry.”

Once Negan made it to the bedroom, he was careful in the way that he lowered you at the center of the bed. That’s when the room started to spin around you. Suddenly this was becoming all too real what was about to happen. Your eyes fell to Negan’s swollen cock and you felt your mouth go dry looking at it.

“I’ll be right back,” Negan held his finger up, going into the sitting area to grab something before returning with a condom and some lube. Getting onto his knees at the bottom of the bed had a breath catching in your throat when you pressed up onto your hands. Outstretching your hand, you palmed in over the center of his stomach, dragging your fingers down over his navel to tease through the dark curls of hair that were there that led to the base of his thick cock. Stroking his fingers over your shoulder, Negan hummed when you started kissing at the area right below his bellybutton. Grasping his shaft firmly, you took the tip back between your lips with your eyes staring up at him hoping to see his reaction while you pleasured him. The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was slightly bulging when he dropped his head back and moaned out. “Fuck.”

Allowing you to give him a blowjob for a few moments led to him curling his fingers into your hair to pull you back. A wet popping sound followed when your lips pulled from his cock and he stroked the saliva over his body.

Reaching for the condom, Negan urged you to wait. Still caressing over his hip, you wanted to make sure to still touch him when he went to open the condom.

“Do you use a condom with everyone?” you questioned noticing the smile that tugged at Negan’s lips when his thick eyebrows bounced up.

“Kind of the rules, so yeah,” Negan answered you, licking at his lips when you wrapped your fingers around his cock to stroke over it firmly. “Why? Do you want me to do it without a condom?”

“You’d do that?” you were almost intrigued when he smirked, his hips bouncing up toward your grasp.

“Well, you’re a virgin. I know I’m clean because I have to make sure of it,” Negan bobbed his head back and forth, sucking at his bottom lip when you dragged your tongue out over the length of his cock again. It had him moaning out, his long eyelashes fluttering to a close again. Truthfully? You didn’t care what he did. You just wanted him and you wanted him bad. “I can make an exception for you if you can keep a secret.”

“Keep a secret?” you mused, kissing at the underside of his cock having him humming out when his eyes came to a close. “Will your boss really get that upset with you for having unprotected sex with someone? You’d be willing to get in trouble for me?”

“Would Michonne get pissed at me? Probably. But you’re worth the risk,” Negan’s fingers curled around your throat, leading you back against the bed. A sharp exhale fell from your throat when he set the condom beside you on the bed and reached for the lube that he brought. Releasing your throat, he opened the bottle and poured a significant amount into his hand before stroking it over his cock slicking his girthy length with it.

“Is there much of a difference?” you whimpered when Negan very slowly crawled in over you, covering you with the weight of his body. The warmth of it radiating against your flesh.

“It’s more intimate,” Negan started peppering kisses over your lips, nipping at your bottom lip. “Some men like wearing condoms because it prolongs their orgasm, but I last long regardless.”

Lifting your head, you looked between the two of you to see that his cock was resting against your lower abdomen and it made you lick your lips. A sense of panic filled your veins in that moment, but Negan reached for your jaw to get you to rest your head back.

“Are you on the pill?” Negan confirmed and you nodded your head, feeling a rush of excitement with the smirk he gave you. Balancing himself on his left arm, Negan reached down between the two of you and you felt him dragging the swollen mushroom tip between your lips causing you to whimper. “It’s okay. Don’t get worried now. You’ve been such a good girl so far. Daddy is gonna take good care of you.”

Smacking sounds filled the air with Negan tapping his heavy cock against your sensitive clit getting you to arch up toward him. Hovering his lips in over yours, Negan adjusted himself before lining himself up with your entrance. Lowering over you, he reached for your wrists to pin them beside you on the bed. Squeezing firmly at them at first, Negan had you shaking beneath him when he slid his fingers to tangle his with yours. Pushing forward had the swollen tip entering you pushing past the ring of muscle that was there. It had Negan’s lips part, his jaw lowering and his eyelids growing heavy. Your cry followed with Negan dipping down just enough to press a faint kiss over your lips.

“Fuck,” Negan nipped at your lips when he pushed his hips forward just a bit more leaving you with a completely foreign sensation. It hurt at first, but you assumed that was normal since Negan from what you knew was bigger than most men were. “Look at me.”

Your eyes connected with his when he filled you with just the first few inches. His fingers squeezed tightly to yours, your whimper falling from your lips. Allowing you to get used to just that, Negan started to pamper you with kisses, pulling his hips back slightly allowing the tip to pull from you before pushing it back in. It was a unique feeling, but with every motion, you found your hips raising to meet his movements.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Negan growled, the warmth of his breath hovering over your lips, but you didn’t want it to stop. No, you wanted more of this. Lifting your hips up higher toward him, you gave him a nod letting him know you wanted him to give you more and it made him smile. Rolling his hips, Negan filled you completely leaving you to let out a moan. God, you felt so fucking full with him inside of you. And you liked it. It was uncomfortable, but you felt like in that moment you belonged to him and every part of you was his. “Fuck, you are so goddamn tight.”

“Your cock is so big,” you whined against his lips, lifting your head up to meet him in a desperate kiss that he was eager to reward you with. You wanted him to move, but you knew that he was giving you time to get used to him. To feel him and be close to him. A loud, throaty moan escaped his lips with his eyes squeezing shut and you purred out. “Please…”

“Move your body with mine,” Negan instructed, his hips rolling back before pushing forward again. Doing what he said, your hips eagerly met every one of his thrusts and you winced when each movement started to get harder. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shook your head. You knew the pain would subside because with each movement the pleasure started to grow. The friction from his groin rubbing up against your clit felt incredible and you rocked into every movement he made. Plunge after addictive deep plunge had you moaning out, whimpering out his name and enjoying that he was just as much verbal as you. Burying his nose against the side of your neck, Negan kissed over your flesh and the smacking of your skin together felt incredible. “Do you like that tight little pussy?”

“Fuck me,” Negan pulled back with a wicked smirk, his left hand pulling from your hand to slide up over the side of your neck to grab a firm hold of your jaw. “I think you just might be my favorite.”

“As long as I’m yours,” you exclaimed, dropping your head back with the incredible sensation that Negan thrusting inside of you was giving you. Once he found a certain spot, his thrusts were planned and meticulous.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Negan hissed, dropping his head to watch his cock already coated in your slick while he thrust into you time and time again. The tip of his cock was rubbing up against your g-spot in varying different speeds and it hand your toes digging into the back of his thigh muscles. Your cries turned to breathless pants, with you trying to lift your head to watch what he was doing, but he shook his head. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you answered with a whine knowing that at this point it was true. Whatever Negan was doing, he was doing it right leaving you with a tingling sensation flooding your body. Desperately reaching up, with your free hand you brought Negan to you to kiss him with his tongue brushing up against yours and his fingers squeezing tighter where he was still holding your hand. By the sounds you were making, Negan must have picked up on the fact you were about to come because his thrusts grew more determined. With a wail, you pulled your hips up and away from Negan, which was followed by a proud, amused sound. Your eyes slammed shut, your hips shaking with Negan’s free hand dropping to caress over your sensitive bundle of nerves, enhancing your orgasm with his caress. “Fuck! Fuck…”

“Look at you,” Negan snickered nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck with your coos of pleasure surrounding him. “Your first time and you’re already soaking daddy’s cock. Kissing up over the side of your neck, Negan let you take a moment to gather yourself before hovering over you again. “Put your arms around my shoulders. Hold on tight.”

Nodding, you did as he instructed and gasped when he pulled you up and got into a kneeling position on the bed. Getting you to straddle his hips, Negan reached between the two of you and helped you lower down over his cock while you braced your feet on the bed with Negan’s hands bracing against your ass. Dropping your head back, you cried out at the way he filled you.

“You like the way that feels?” Negan slurred against your lips, starting to use his strength to help you bounce yourself over his cock. Your right arm stayed hooked around his shoulders to keep you up, while you balanced yourself back on the bed with your other hand to help your movements. “Fuck, your tight virgin pussy feels so fucking good around my big cock.”

“Yes,” you gasped out, following the way that Negan was instructing you to move your hips over his cock allowing you to take all of him again and again.  You probably sounded like a broken record with how many times you were saying it, but it felt so good at this point. Bracing your left hand now instead on Negan’s thigh, you angled your hips hoping to get as much of him as you could. The wet sounds along with the two of you breathing heavily together filled the hotel room. “Your cock feels so good inside of me. Oh my god.”

Every roll of your hips over his length grew harder with his moans matching yours, “That’s my girl. You’re doing so fucking good.”

Whimpering out his name as he kissed down over the side of your neck, you couldn’t help but cry out with his right hand squeezing over your bottom to bring you over him while his left hand caressed up and over the small of your back. Pressing his forehead to yours, Negan made sure to keep the both of you close. Once your moans started to become closer together, Negan worked harder to bounce you over his cock.

“Are you gonna come?” he whispered and you nodded quickly, dropping your head back in ecstasy with the way he continued to fill you. Pulling your hips up and away once you hit your next orgasm led you to a euphoric sensation flooding your body. “Fuck, you’re just loving this aren’t you?”

“So much,” you whined when Negan seemed to easily grasp a hold of your hips to flip you over onto your stomach. Lifting your hips up just enough, Negan lowered down behind you with his tongue lapping at your body. His rough grasp palmed at your bottom having you crying out at the sensation. Not only was Negan doing what you paid for, he was going above and beyond to bring you to as many orgasms as he could. Curling your fingers around the comforter, you dropped your head and enjoyed the slurping sounds that came from Negan.

“Lower down baby,” Negan bit at your bottom making you purr as you felt his hands helping you to lay flat against the bed. Crawling in over you, Negan hooked his arm around your waist to pull your hips up slightly before leading his body back into yours with a wet sound. It had you both moaning out in unison with him nipping at your jawline when his steady thrusts started back up again. “I’m so happy you saved this tight little pussy for me. It’s like you were made for me.”

“All for you,” you hummed, happily accepting his fingers hooking with yours with the sounds of his hips smacking up against your bottom filling the air. “It belongs to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan’s free hand curled around your jawline to put a firm pressure on it having you wincing out in pleasure. “Who does this tight little pussy belong to?”

“You,” you whined with his thrusts growing stronger from behind you. “It belongs to you.”

“My name,” Negan demanded, his lips claiming yours having you crying out against his lips.

“Negan. It belongs to Negan,” you gave him what he wanted to hear, nipping at his bottom lip when he released an amused rumble of a sound. “I’m all yours.”

Snickering against the side of your neck, Negan chuckled before quickening the pace of his cock thrusting inside of you. You couldn’t believe how quickly you became addicted to the sensation of him stretching you and filling you completely.

Your moans countered each other’s with the sound of the headboard smacking against the wall. You wondered if anyone would complain considering you knew that the two of you were not being quiet. At all. Cooing out, your hips tried to pull up and away from Negan’s feeling that same build up he had done before inside of you so many times, but his hips followed your movements doing his best to keep moving inside of you until you pulled away with a whine.

“Christ,” your body shook and Negan moaned against the side of your neck. Just his body weight over you felt good and you didn’t know how you weren’t going to want this constantly now that you’ve had it. “Negan.”

“Come here,” he instructed, nudging your hip and getting you onto your back again. Getting comfortable, Negan braced his weight and got you to hook your legs around his waist. Your bodies were pressed together with his fingers sweeping over your jawline and his hazel eyes locked on yours. “You are so fucking perfect.”

Gasping out as he entered you again, your fingers slid up the lengths of his back before sinking into his hair. Smiling had his dimples even more prominent than before when he took his time rolling his hips back before forward again. This time it was about closeness and the connection between the two of you. Gradually with each thrust, the strength grew harder and quicker. Desperate to have him near, you pulled his lips to yours demanding the attention you wanted. Winces started falling from Negan’s throat with his moans growing louder.

“I’m going to come,” he grunted against your lips, his thick eyebrows furrowing with his lips parting and his moans becoming even raspier. Arching your hips up toward his thrusts, you lifted your head just enough to meet his dominant and forceful kiss. Each thrust became rough, with your winces against his lips drawing him to growl out. Biting at your bottom lip, Negan’s moans grew closer together when you felt the throbbing of him inside of you followed by the first sign of the warmth of his release. The expression over his face as he continued the rolling of his hips over you only turned you on more when you pulled him closer to you kissing over the side of his neck. After a few final thrusts, Negan’s breathing grew loud and he nuzzled his nose against the side of your neck with you clinging tightly to him. Negan pumped you full of his cum, his cock still throbbing inside of you after he reached his orgasm. You were surprised how much you enjoyed the feeling of it. “Fuck.”

Stroking your fingers through his damp hair, you felt like the world was spinning around you. Your body ached in the most amazing of ways and you loved the sounds of Negan’s deep breaths against the side of your neck.

With a throaty groan, Negan pulled his hips back and away from you allowing his softening cock to pull from your body. Whining out, you hated the empty feeling it left you with, but you felt the warmth of his release spilling out of you and sliding down your thighs.

With a grunt, Negan got up from the bed and you felt your heart sinking. Throughout the whole thing, Negan made sure to make everything very intimate between the two of you, so when he stood up you almost assumed that he was already getting ready to leave. He had done what you had asked of him of course, so what more did he need to do?

Closing your eyes, your breathing started to calm down with your skin feeling like it was on fire. As the bed dipped, you found yourself surprised to feel the warmth of Negan beside you again. Opening your eyes, you felt him wiping at the mess he made over your thighs with a tissue and you reached up to stroke over his jawline.

“I thought you were leaving,” you declared while Negan finished cleaning you up. Tossing the tissue into the garbage, Negan crawled in over you again and traced over your features with his rough fingertips. The way he looked at you took your breath away and you stole another kiss from his lips.

“Nope,” he shook his head with a smirk, peppering playful kisses over your jawline then your shoulder and then to your breast. Nipping at your nipple had your back arching up toward him and he growled. His left hand caressed in over the side of your body and you hummed. “You did so good. How do you feel?”

“I feel good,” you answered with a hum as hand lifted and his thumb swept over your bottom lip. “I mean, I ache, but I feel really good.”

“Good,” he slurred with a happy smirk, pressing another kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Resting your head over the center of his chest, you stroked your fingers over the damp hair that were over his lower abdomen. Pressing a kiss to your temple, Negan squeezed you in closer to him and it made you both smile. “Do you regret your decision?”

“Not one bit,” your answer was immediate, drawing what sounded like a snort from his lips and it made you lift your head from his chest to stare up at him. “The only thing I’m starting to regret is that this will be over soon.”

“Not that soon. You have me all night,” Negan reminded you with a wink, his raspy voice drawing you in to kiss him again. With an arrogant bob of his head, he gave you another one of his sexy smiles before squeezing over your bottom. “Which means I’m yours until morning.”

“Oh yeah,” your eyebrow arched in curiosity and he nodded his head.

“And lets not pretend that this is gonna be the last time,” Negan declared, his nose nuzzling in against yours when he claimed your lips in a kiss again. “We both know that after tonight, you belong to me. All of you belongs to me.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx  @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03​ @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 01.

tuesday

ꕥ part 02. | part 03. | part 04. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, mentions of human trafficking, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~4k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

The violin's iconic, somewhat sharp sound sent shivers down your spine as the small, elegant live band started to perform one of their original songs. The tunes had a vintage, old-money vibe, which matched the deep, honey-like voice of the singer. In some way, their performance reminded you of Lana del Rey, even though the lyrics had no resemblance to the woman’s work.

The upper part of your elegant black dress hugged your body perfectly, while the skirt flowed gracefully around your legs. You dressed moderately so that you could be wired, but you still managed to fit into the fundraising gala you attended, mostly because Penelope did wonders with your makeup and hair. You seemed rich and smart. Like a calculated businesswoman, someone who knew exactly how to play their cards right. The only drawback was that if things came down to a chase, running in a long dress could cause trouble. And no, the high heels weren’t a problem, like at all. You couldn’t even count how many times you had to catch assholes in bars while wearing impossible shoes and sometimes also being tipsy, but you were always quick and efficient.

“See anything suspicious, babygirl?” came Derek’s voice from your earpiece which was disguised as an earring.

“All I see is suspicious” you murmured while raising the glass of champagne to your mouth as if you were drinking, to subtly cover your moving lips. “I cannot even count how many illegal deals were made under the table in this last hour.”

“Focus. Someone here has the exact time and coordinates of the next auction. If we lose that, we lose countless victims who are being trafficked” joined into the conversation your boss, the always collected and stoic Aaron Hotchner. You caught a glimpse of his figure from across the fancy, dimly lit ballroom. He was dressed elegantly, which wasn’t so different from his usual attire.

You carefully walked around, making your moves as elegant as possible. As if you were flowing amongst the crowd. You listened into conversations, trying to catch anything that’d indicate that the speaker had the information you needed. You and Aaron went undercover as attendees, mingling with the various guests who all had unimaginable net worth and power. It was intimidating but you tried not to think about it, afraid you’d blow your cover. The rest of the team was stationed near the entrances and exits. If the person who knew where the next auction was going to be held sensed that you were onto them and they’d try to slip away, the others could catch them outside.

“Try not to get distracted by the smooth-talking” you heard Reid’s almost condescending voice from your earpiece which made you tempted to take it off.

“On the very safe assumption that this was meant for me and not Hotch, fuck you.”

“Just saying” Reid laughed at the other end of the line but didn’t say more. If the case wasn’t as intense as it sadly was, he would’ve continued bickering. It would’ve been pointless trying to deny how much he enjoyed arguing with you, picking small fights, and being on your nerves, just as much as you were constantly dancing on his.

Ever since you joined the BAU almost a year ago now, you were the source of Dr Spencer Reid’s dilemmas. Solving problems, puzzles, solving everything was Reid’s thing. But even after nearly a year working together, he still couldn’t figure you out, which bothered him more than anything.

You walked into the BAU’s bullpen with a soft smile on your face, wearing black straight jeans and a lavender-coloured button-up shirt. The team knew about a newbie joining them, but they didn’t look up anything about you. The unintentional crossing of personal boundaries was a constant problem amongst them, they didn’t want to voluntarily ruin things by basically stalking you. So, you walked in with a shy smile on your face. Everyone was waiting but they didn’t want to make things awkward. Emily was the first one who walked up to you, whom you greeted with a genuine, warm smile. JJ should’ve walked you through the building while letting you know the basics and then introduce you to the team, but she was caught up at the bank, being late for the first time. That’s why you were more anxious than usual.

So, the first meeting was even more awkward than you’d previously anticipated. But the small group of unordinary individuals were welcoming. Derek cracked some jokes almost immediately, making you laugh and even fire back something quick-witted, starting the process of getting to know each other a bit more light-heartedly.

You quickly became a soft spot for everyone. You were kind, attentive and funny. You tried to memorize every small, personal detail about the others and later do things as they preferred. For example, once you caught Emily saying that for some reason, she always had a stomach-ache from cinnamon and since then, you always made sure that whenever you brought some snacks or cookies for the team, Emily never had any of that spice in it. You also noticed how Penelope obsessed over anything colourful and over the top – it would’ve been harder not to notice, to be honest, so every now and then you surprised her with small things like silly stickers or tiny figures to decorate her tech wizard cave.

It was so easy to have a conversation with you. You could talk for hours about literally anything, whether it was serious or something fun. You matched everyone’s vibe, fitting into the BAU family perfectly.

And now onto Spencer Reid. He first saw you as a rival. To begin with, you replaced him as the youngest, by far. And of course, the unofficial title of being the youngest of the BAU meant nothing, came with no benefits and didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be salty due to such a silly thing. He was way above that. Except that he wasn’t. He didn’t handle change that well, and the youngest title being ripped away from him, even if it was such a trivial matter, annoyed him.

It also turned out very quickly that you were intelligent as hell. Of course, dumb people can’t make it to the FBI. But above being intelligent and very well-read, you pointed out his flaws more than he liked. Obviously, you weren’t smarter than him. He had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, countless PhDs and BAs, years of experience and an overall thirst for knowledge, so it would’ve been impossible for almost anyone to outsmart the doctor. But he was also human. Sometimes, he made mistakes. Sometimes, his calculations were wronged by the unpredictable nature of humans. Of course, as a profiler, his field of expertise was human behaviour, but this field meant one of the highest chances of error, especially at the beginning of new cases, where a huge part of the profile was educated guesswork.

Many times, you were the one who found the possible mistakes in his calculations and theories, and you were the one who came up with the solution that helped the most in the end. However, even though you were intelligent and sharp, your mind, and due to that your way of thinking was rather chaotic. It seemed as if you were jumping to conclusions without a proper explanation which oftentimes sounded illogical at first, causing some arguments between the two of you. But you were smart. You were able to challenge him in a way very few people could. Your subtle rivalry gave him a feeling of rush, some adrenalin and a healthy kind of excitement. So, even if Spencer would’ve never admitted it, he enjoyed the louder arguments too.

On top of that, Spencer also didn’t fail to notice how you were considerate towards him too, even after some fights. You couldn’t be called friends either. You were co-workers with a continuous but tamed rivalry - while also joking around sometimes -, at best. Still, if you were making coffee in the breakroom, you usually brew a cup for Reid too, despite he rarely asked for it. You simply memorized the times of the day when he usually had his caffeine intake and if you were drinking at that same time too, you also gave a cup to him just the way he liked. Also, you were very mindful of physical contact. If you handed him anything, you made sure that your fingers weren’t touching.

Spencer liked this. He was so used to being the one who was willing to read the others around him and adjust, that the feeling of him being read and actively kept in mind felt very weird in a good way. Of course, he knew if he asked literally anyone in the team to do something differently or avoid doing something, if possible, everyone would comply without any problems. But he would’ve had to ask them. Not with you though. And that’s what he really appreciated.

And if all of this wasn’t enough for a confusing relationship between workmates, there was the problem of him, not being able to "decode" you entirely. You were chatty, very kind and open to literally anyone. You were helpful, patient and so on. You talked a lot. But what bothered Spencer is that even though you were always talking, you never said anything about yourself. The team didn’t even realize that they knew nothing about you. About the real you. You were so good at being the hyperactive, talkative sunshine of the group that it slipped past them how you carefully kept any kind of personal detail a secret. Or if they noticed it, they let it slide. Dancing around the topic of privacy amongst them was hard enough already. No one wanted to overstep.

But Reid was intrigued. He wanted to know more about the person who was able to so confidently push his buttons almost every day. He tried to ask some more specific questions, but you effortlessly managed to answer them without saying anything personal and still sounding natural. Sometimes he didn’t even notice that he was getting nowhere, only after the conversation was over.

To sum it up, you were an enigma. As his rival, you gave him excitement with each argument. As the team’s newest sweet girl, you tried your best to make everyone happy around you while completely shutting everybody out, without them noticing. The ball of sunshine who many times didn’t even flinch at the violence that surrounded them every day. For some reason, he couldn’t easily dissect your personality into a thousand different pieces and find a reason behind everything you do, as he usually does with others, and this annoyed him a lot.

“Y/N, I think I have something” murmured your boss into your ears through the earpiece, making you look for him in the crowd. You quickly caught a glimpse of his determined figure as he approached some men near the bougie marble fireplace.

“Should I join in?” you asked.

“Not yet. We have no exact profile of anyone who’s an attendant at the auctions. I’ll see how they react to me first.”

“All right, I’ll be close,” you said as you blended into the crowd nearby. You could only hear parts of the conversation the suspects were having since you had to engage in small talk and courtesy with others, so you wouldn’t stand out from the elite guests.

“…my wife will be here soon. She just went to get some champagne for me...” it was safe to say that this was your sign. Yes, calling you his wife was a bit unexpected, but not an entirely impossible scenario. When you were going through some phrases to use or not to use, how to be polite while remaining elegant, because politeness can easily be misjudged as being humble and weaker, Hotchner and you being married was also a highly optional outcome. This gala was so low-risk, filled with powerful and important people, that even those who were cheating with one or multiple other people, didn’t dare to bring their sidepieces. Those who had come with partners all came with their spouses. So, you grabbed another glass of champagne for your boss and walked over to him with a smile on your face.

He looked effortlessly elegant as he slightly leaned towards the marble fireplace while engaged in a conversation with two other men.

“Hey honey,” you said while tiptoeing and hinting a small peck at your boss’s face. You already knew that the team won’t ever shut up about this. You could almost hear their teasing. “I’ve brought your champagne.”

“Thank you, darling,” he said as he pulled you a bit closer by carefully placing his hands on your waist. “This is my wife, Charlotte, who I’ve mentioned before.”

“Cameron Wallace, nice to meet you, miss.”

“Brian Pierce, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is mine, gentlemen,” you said with a small smile on your face as you reached forward with your right hand, allowing them to hint one small kiss above your knuckles.

“So, darling, you know how we have problems with finding someone who’d make our marriage more interesting while still keeping it confidential” Hotch started talking almost nonchalantly.

“Guys, Cameron Wallace was a hot topic a few months ago. He comes from old money and had everything planned for his life by his filthy rich parents up until a few months ago. He was newlywed when shit hit the fan. He cheated on his wife with some high-end swinger who then ratted out everything to the media. And by everything, I mean literally everything. Not just the hook up but every single business secret the family had. Cameron got divorced, disowned and kicked out from the Wallace Corps, which is still at its lowest, by the way,” chimed in Garcia, giving you a little heads up, helping in which direction you should take the conversation.

“Ah yes. Nowadays you can never be sure about who you’re letting into your home. One minute you could lay in bed with them, the other minute they’re selling all your secrets and ruining your reputation, your whole life you’ve been working so hard for. It’s such a shame, really.” you said while you placed your palm on your chest as if you were soothing your aching heart. And bingo. Cameron caught the bait. By empathizing with him, even if it seemed unintentional on his part, he automatically felt more at ease around you.

“Totally agree. You could even buy a house for these whores and most of them would still sell you out” Cameron rolled his eyes. He was tall and conventionally attractive. Wavy dark brown hair, deep green eyes, muscular build, blindingly white teeth. Everyone who looked at him was able to tell that he was a total bitch.

“It’s awful what money does to people nowadays” I agreed, feeding into his ego. Brian was silent, more collected. He seemed older too, more around the age of Hotchner than you.

“Mr. Pierce seems weirdly clean and unproblematic, so it’s safe to assume that he paid a shit ton to get his past erased. For him, I’ll need more time.” rambled Penelope into your ears, and you took this as a warning to proceed with caution if it comes to the older man.

“I’m sorry, it must be a mistake on my side, but I didn’t quite catch your last name, Charlotte,” said suddenly the man. For a quick moment, panic rushed through you. He didn’t ask for Aaron’s full name, Garcia let you know via your earpiece. He was testing you directly. But you had no idea whether he was looking for a submissive wife or a confident, almost dominant one. You knew he was already playing out a fantasy, including you and if you picked the wrong role, the whole mission was fucked.

Okay, let’s calm down, Y/N. You are an excellent profiler; you can easily figure out a man. If I look at them as a team, Pierce is obviously the dominant one. Even if both are alpha males, Wallace is younger and short-tempered, probably narcissistic too. Brian Pierce seems smarter and much more manipulative, even able to control Cameron without him noticing it. I think he gets off on feeling powerful as an authority figure. He didn’t even talk that much with Hotchner, recognising that they’re somewhat similar which didn’t interest him, and only joined in the conversation when I was talking too much.

“I have my husband’s last name, of course,” you said with a shy smile while you started to fidget with your fingers and avoided Pierce’s gaze. “I think it would be disrespectful towards him to have it any other way, sir.” you heard a small, approving hum from Brian, so short you almost missed it. But this gave you the green light you desperately hoped for.

“And let me ask you a somewhat indiscrete question, miss. Is it you who wants to spice up your marriage with an additional person or your husband?”

“Both of us, Mr. Pierce. I love my husband more than anything. Everything I have is thanks to him and his hard work. I am truly fortunate that I caught his interest a few years ago in a similar event and I want to do everything to keep him interested. So, if he is curious about how it would be to have a third person in our bed, I’m more than happy to… experiment. I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way.”

You heard the others snorting or even laughing at your monologue in other parts of the line and you almost broke character yourself. At this point, you couldn’t even blame the others for making fun of you in the future. You totally deserved it.

Your boss was silently looking at you, playing the part of a manipulative husband who was satisfied with his wife’s answers, revolving around him and only him.

“In that case, may I recommend a small event? Not even an event, I’d much rather call it a confidential get-together between people with similar interests. My wife and I had a similar problem, and we found a solution there not so long ago. She is a perfect addition to our lives without causing any difficulties.”

“I’d be more than open to anything, Brian,” said Hotchner with a small smirk on his face as he pulled you closer to him.

“One of my dear friends will host a private party in one of his villas in the countryside this weekend, I’m hoping to see you there,” said Pierce, shook Aaron’s hand and left, not even bothering to say goodbye to you. Cameron nodded and also left, leaving you two to be.

You slowly lowered your gaze to Hotch’s palm, in which there was a small, seemingly normal name card. But both of you knew it was so much more than that. It was your clue and a ticket to the auction, being held four days from now. The mission was successful; however, it came with the awkward part of having to play husband and wife for the rest of the night with your boss, to avoid suspicion.

“I am so sorry, L/N. They were giving subtle hints of the event, but I couldn’t get through them alone. They are alpha males, and I figured they needed to test you since both see women as a possible liability, even the wives.” apologized Aaron quietly, as if he was whispering something entirely different to you.

“It’s okay boss, we both knew this outcome could be a possibility,” you said and took a small sip of champagne. “I bet the team won’t let this slide anytime soon, though.”

“I wouldn’t even dare dream of it. Still, nice work, Agent,” he said in his usual, stoic demeanour, only his slight smile gave away that he was proud and satisfied with your performance. Without you, as the dumb, obedient wife, the team couldn’t get the information about where the traffickers would hold the next auction.

×××

“I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way,” said Derek in a high-pitched voice with closed eyes and palms pressed on his chest. You were in your everyday attire, finally being able to move comfortably without the heavy dress.

“I love my husband more than anything. Oh my God, what would I even do without my precious husband?” joined in Emily, with a huge grin on her face that she couldn’t hide. The team finished for that day. It was way past the end of their work hours, but since the gala was held late at night, all of them were aware that this would stretch into whatever plans they originally had. They were in the small, stingy locker room, getting their coats and bags so they could leave the building.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourselves at my expense, guys,” you said as if you were annoyed, but couldn’t hide the playful smile that was plastered on your face.

“Careful, her darling Aaron will beat your asses if you push the matter too far,” even Rossi had some commentary, in his usual, seemingly monotone style.

You couldn’t control the situation. Not that you wanted that much. You always enjoyed the light-hearted bickering and how everyone joined in when there was a chance to get on someone’s nerves.

“Can we expect another little Hotchner soon?” asked Reid not so far from you, who was organizing the contents of his brown satchel bag. His wavy brown hair hid most of his face as he looked down into the bag, but the tone of his voice gave you a hint that he was also just joining the others in teasing you. With his long, delicate fingers he carefully sorted out the books, newspapers, pen case and spectacle case that got mixed up in today’s work.

“If my dear husband deems that we need another small prodigy, I am more than happy to do my wifely duties and give him a child,” you said and tried to act as if you wholeheartedly believed every single word you said, causing the team to laugh at your silliness.

“Come on, Mrs Dutiful Wife, you’ll have plenty of time for that, now let’s finally call it a day,” said Derek jokingly as he hugged your shoulders with one arm and started to walk out from the locker room next to you.

Dr Spencer Reid was standing next to his open locker, gazing forward but not looking at anything. His brows were furrowed, and he looked quite annoyed. Like, when a crossword puzzle was made incorrectly, ruining his whole morning. What’s funny is that he had no idea why he felt that way, which made him even more pissed.

“Coming, Reid?” came the question from Emily who was about to leave the small room. He noticed that the doctor was standing in one place, so she called out.

“Of course, sorry. I just zoned out for a moment. Long day.”

He hated not understanding exactly everything about himself.

thank you so much for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! divider from @cafekitsune gif from @reidgif

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 1

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Drabble / Masterlist / DISCORD SERVER

Preface

Females have begun to decline as swiftly as time has, and that was when males of all races, began to become desperate. This led to women being collected at birth and sold at auction, and they gradually became one of the most coveted items.

Despairing to keep what have to become sacred treasures across the land hidden, parents started to hide their daughters.

You are one of them.

Until, what you had always thought your last hope, the Government issued a large-scale raid for women, and forced you out of hiding, thrown into the house of four powerful monsters.

Context Warning: NSFW! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub-con/ Non-con, Fingering, Murder, Author's Poor Attempt in Dark Fic, Monsterfucking, Mentions of Slavery

Disgusting, filthy, bottom crawlers.

That was the first thought that came to your mind as the Shadow Company of the Government raided your once safe haven. Your body trembled before them as though you were heaved into a freezing lake, left to die. Your breathing was heavy as though you went for a track. Your sweat coated every inch of your skin.

But the cleaver knife and gun in your hand said otherwise.

Heads and hearts exploded each time a deafening noise echoed in everyone's ears, blocking all sounds, but not yours. All you could hear was the beat of your heart, telling you never to stop.

Each second was enough time to burn down another one's story. However, this was the beginning of your tale.

When all you could see was crimson, when all you could hear was the echo of your heart and the clinking of bullet shells, light shone from behind. And you staggered forward, feeling a scorching heat from your stomach and chest, where blood oozed out which never seemed to come to an end—the sign of your freedom already stolen.

In a blink, gone.

After all, a story never begins with one who already has everything.

It was impossible to block out the stifled sobs of all the women around you, even if you had tried cupping your hands over your ears and closing your eyes.

Just like you, who had fought for your freedom, but to no avail, they were captured a week before. However, you couldn't bring yourself to cry. More than anything, you were tired . . . and mad.

You had been shot twice before your capture, and the bullets the Shadows used were laced with poison. Normally, that would only be used to neutralize monsters, but seeing how you murdered people just to escape, the leader must have realized you were more than what you appeared to be.

That, and the fact that only women can bring life to this godforsaken land, were the reason why men and monsters decided to make them their toys. But these women had long lost their will to live their life the way they wanted. The sparks in their eyes that were said to be the undisputed magic which always brings men to their knees, were now gone.

You couldn't exactly pity them when you were about to experience the same. In fact, you were already in the same state as they were: stripped naked for every goddamned eye to see.

Your name echoed in the corridor,  and one of the men, standing guard, dressed in all black, grabbed your arm. He pulled you up to your feet and whispered to your ears, “You better behave out there,” he tightened his grip as he dragged you. “Graves won't hesitate to put another bullet on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We all know I will fetch a great price. You wouldn't want to lose a large sum of money, don't you?”

“Threatening my Shadows again?” A silvery voice emerged from the darkness, taking the form of a man with slicked-back, blond hair, dressed in the finest suit you had ever put an eye on.

Phillip Graves was a monster—a bloodsucking leech in human clothing, leader of the monsters you had blasted a hole in when they rampaged your home, and the very one to make it even by shooting you and capturing you.

He flashed a small smile at you, condescending enough to make your blood boil. He took you from his subordinate, arm snaking around your waist, and pulling you close to him.

Your breasts planted on his chest, making it appear more ample, and on your stomach, you could feel something hard. A grimace appeared on your face and a shiver ran down your spine as his hands traveled from your waist down to your ass. His fingers slowly went south through the gap of your thighs. You loathed this feeling, the cold touch of his calloused fingers, his hard grip, and the strong scent of his cologne mixed with rust—with blood. But if you retaliated, he would break your bones, over and over again, knowing that you could heal faster than most.

And this sadist wouldn't hesitate to take your virginity himself before selling you to others, like a toy that he had already gotten tired of.

“You sure you don't want me to take you?” Phillip leaned down, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. “I can delay your show and we can have some time.”

“No,” you grunted, turning your head to the side, eyeing his servants who watched the movements of Phillip’s hands running over your body.

A chuckle escaped his lips, inhaling your scent as his nose trailed to your temple. “A shame,” he whispered, his sharp fangs grazing your skin, fingers caressing your folds, already slightly soaked.

You bit your lip to hold back the noise threatening to escape from your lips.

He stepped away from you and watched you immediately try to cover yourself with your arms. But oh, you foolish little bird, he could still see every inch of you.

He would take you, sure, if that was what you wanted. But good sex was nothing to a good sum of money. He can buy or rent any woman he pleases, with the price he could get from you. Besides, there were acquaintances of his who wouldn't want a woman who had already been touched.

Plus points, you were educated.

Cons: you fucking know how to kill.

Wherever the fuck you learned to do that.

He brought his fingers to his lips, licking away your fluids that grazed his fingers. “Well, let's get going.” He smiled and took your wrist, like a misbehaving dog on a walk park now being dragged home.

His hand swiped the curtain open and you squinted your eyes, blinded by the overhead lights, until you finally adjusted to the brightness, which followed you and Graves as you climbed up the stairs of a platform. Shame brought your body to flame as every gaze shifted on your naked flesh, chatters that sounded like static echoed endlessly in your ears.

From there, all you desired was for everything to burn.

John Mactavish leaned forward from his seat, bright blue eyes raking upon every inch of your body, but what caught his attention was the condescending look on your eyes, which declared every man in your sight lower than vermins walking on this land. Then, your eyes settled on Mactavish as Phillip Graves began your brief introduction to all the monsters inside the auction, and seemingly to judge his entire existence, he felt himself wanting more of your attention, of whatever you speak. He felt the desire in your gaze, the hunger for eradication.

Oh, you would look glorious sitting on his lap, bouncing up and down on his dick as you please, until you suck him dry. John felt his dick hardening, brushing against the fabric of his pants. He turned on his seat, facing Jonathan Price, whom they considered the leader of their hoard, but before he could utter a word the same man spoke.

“I like this one,” Price declared, making the other two on the same table as them, shift their gazes at him. Price took a long drag from his cigar before he continued. “She reminds me of the time when women stood proud and confident. We barely see that kind of spark in the eyes of females anymore, and I’d like to bring that spark into nothing but a speck of ash.”

“You’re a sadist, Price,” a man in a skull mask remarked, voice low and gruff, snapping his head back as the bidding started, each time a monster spoke, the price got higher.

Price turned his head to the man, his eyes glowing gold like a flame imprisoned within. “Nothing shall burn brighter than my fire, Simon.” He pulled a smirk on his lips, sharp fangs glinting, and motioned at the other one among them, raising his hand. “Kyle, would you please?”

However, before Kyle could raise their designated number, Graves raised a hand, bringing silence to the room, and he began, “Most of you might think that she is just a human, but let me show you something that would assure that she was the most valuable one we have ever had in a hundred years.”

You snapped your neck at Phillip, frowning at his face until his fingernails became dark and sharp like the claws of a wild beast. With a swift movement, his nails dragged on your arm, making you wince in pain, and blood began to run down. Each plop of blood on the floor made monsters gulp and each centimeter of the wound closed made monsters rise from their feet.

Even Phillip Graves had a hard time resisting the sight of blood and forcing himself on you for the sake of money.

Who wouldn’t want a woman who can take this much damage? Who wouldn’t want a woman who would ensure their offspring would come out stronger?

Then, a booming laughter echoed across the sea of yells, surfacing among others. Just as you turned to see where it came from, a flash of yellow came into your sight, and you leaned back, your heart leaping to your throat when a man towered over you.

Not a man. A monster.

Devil's incarnate.

Sharp horns sprouted from his forehead. On his back, a pair of leathery wings unrolled and a thick, scaly tail slapped Graves away from you before he could complain. And with a single sniff, a huff which brought the smell of smoke up your nostrils, Price’s eyes flashed gold.

“We’re bringing you home.” He pushed his lips onto yours, scaly hands wrapping around your waist, sharp claws scraping your skin. You tried to push him off, but one of his hands grabbed your hand so tight you thought your bones would break.

You whimpered against his mouth, making him chuckle and bite down on your lower lip, his fang piercing through the fragile skin. You tasted blood on your tongue and so did he as you were heaved up, forced to wrap your legs around his waist. Your cunt brushed onto the harsh fabric of his pants and the growing tent between them.

You bit back a moan and pulled away. “Stop—” But his hand pulled you back into his fervent, disgusting kiss. He left his marks on the expanse of your collarbone, then down to the valley of your breasts, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he reached on your head, pulling on your tresses.

It made you turn your head and you watched three other men get on the platform as well—one who appeared to be the most normal-looking among them, giving two cases of money to Graves, who didn’t seem much pleased after he was shoved off stage.

And before this very crowd, you were brought back the curtains and to God knows where.

May we all have seats reserved in hell already.

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own / DISCORD SERVER

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[fragilefable]

nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller. 

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman. 

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking. 

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins. 

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl." 

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird." 

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?" 

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair. 

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you. 

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck. 

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first. 

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay." 

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately. 

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel." 

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army." 

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway. 

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck. 

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!" 

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise." 

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."  

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance. 

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone." 

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-" 

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within. 

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front. 

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive. 

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!" 

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets. 

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?" 

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?" 

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?" 

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home." 

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young. 

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice. 

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still... 

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.  

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know." 

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house. 

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through. 

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand." 

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse. 

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."  

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know. 

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you? 

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?" 

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault. 

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him. 

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail. 

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart. 

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams. 

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her. 

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think." 

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy. 

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen. 

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere. 

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street. 

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer. 

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades. 

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me." 

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'." 

© 2023 fragilefable do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

divider by @saradika

[kaiser1ns]

gamer bf!nagi seishiro who gave you his minecraft server data so you can play together when he is too lazy to play tactical gunplay games

gamer bf!nagi seishiro lets you be the housewife, decorating and building the house however you like, while he is away mining or fighting with mobs, but he always brings you more flowers when he comes back

gamer bf!nagi seishiro who laughs at you being scared by the mobs when nighttime comes as both of you are not in the base but he will always protect you from danger (he will teleport, too lazy to fight)

gamer bf!nagi seishiro who suggests you to try games like valorant, league of legends or overwatch, and you, of course, pick the most difficult characters to play with because they were just so fine, sigh now he sends you tutorials and guides for the rotations and team comps

gamer bf!nagi seishiro who buys you the pretty battlepass (with the money reo gave him) with the cherry blossom theme so you can be "a baddie with a pink gun", your words not his

gamer bf!nagi seishiro just loves watching you struggle in games like genshin impact or honkai star rail for losing another 50/50 and having to grind for gems when everything is on 100% exploration and there are no available questa to do

do not be sad gamer bf!nagi seishiro has it under control and the next morning when you log into your account you will be greeted with maxed constellation and weapon refinement of the character you wanted, so what better way to thank him if not with endless kisses and cuddles?

gamer bf!nagi seishiro sometimes streams on his twitch account and let's say his fans went crazy in the chat section when you showed up to give him food, as the interest was no longer focused on the game, but on you

gamer bf!nagi seishiro who gets slightly jealous and annoyed when reading the comments "is your gf single?", "can i be her wife pls", "i though i was in heaven when this angel appeared" , they aren't going to be in heaven when nagi finds the ip address

gamer bf!nagi seishiro who just watches you laugh at the comments, nothing new at all, your relationship is no secret to the public, "i am sorry guys, but i am planning to become mrs. nagi" and the way he just freezes upon hearing this as you kiss him on the cheek and leave the room, he won't be surprised if tomorrow this part of the stream is on tiktok or any other social media

cuddling in bed before going to sleep with gamer bf!nagi seishiro as he plays geometry dash on his phone and if he dies it's your turn to try to pass the level and you do succeed, handing the phone to him for the next challenge

gamer bf!nagi seishiro didn't notice you had fallen asleep on his chest while he got to the next level, as he hums before turning off his phone he took a picture of the two of you, of course, it wouldn't be a good night without a good night kiss, as he softly kisses your temple, cheek and finally leaving a quick peck on your lips, murmuring something among the lines i love you; thank you; sleep well, princess

gamer bf!nagi seishiro who loves you so much that he will make sure you are going to be mrs. nagi soon enough

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[cherryspeaches]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die - Chapter 1

Summary: Having lost everything, you joined the games with no hope or expectation of winning. Despite it all, you found something interesting in #001. Maybe you'd stick around a little longer. Chapter wc: 1.1k

------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ugh. Shut the fuck up. The bed springs above me continued to creak, bearing the weight of the middle-aged man that lay on it. It doesn’t bode well to be a light sleeper in a room that you once shared with over 400 people. Little whispers, light snores and soft noises fill up the empty space of the huge room that you’ve been placed in, little rest is present amongst those remaining after the harrowing experience of witnessing death’s embrace, through a fucking children’s game of all things… You stare at the metal frame that lines and supports the bed above you, the only view that’s offered to you in this hellscape. Being placed in a very awkward third bunk placement has stifled your daydreaming tendencies, preferring the company and comfort of the make-believe instead of your present reality. You envied those close to the floor, being able to root their feet and center their bodies to the ground with much more ease. You also envied those closest to the ceiling, closer to the covered stars and having the room to breathe.  You chose to focus your thoughts towards your discontent with the sleeping arrangements, since the alternative is a reality you don’t want to face quite yet. Hoping that it’s been enough time since the lights went off, you slowly feel your pockets for your most treasured item: your older model MP3 player and wired headphones. Feeling it’s weight in your hand, you let out a small sigh of relief. You still don’t understand why they let you keep this when they confiscated literally everything else of yours, but you have noticed that they let players keep little items or trinkets like rapper extraordinaire Thanos with his entirely non-covert drug filled necklace, or that little old lady with that very gaudy hair pin that looks like it’s from the 60’s. You made a mental note to stay away from Thanos, those pretty little pills would do your attempt at recovery more harm than good. Unravelling the knot of your headphones, you go through the motions of placing each earbud in and turn on your device to play at the lowest speed possible, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or your precious music player.  Letting the music fill your ears, you wonder if it’s worth trying to figure out literally anything about this place or if it’s simply easier to embrace your inevitable fate, it’s something you’ve been asking for at least for the last ten years. Having lost both your parents in a truck accident when you were just 18 devastated you in more ways than you could have ever expected. Not only did you lose your parents who have worked diligently to raise you and your older sister, but you also lost your physical home due to repossession from the bank after failing to pay back the necessary debts just days before their accident. Your parents had taken out a loan to be able to pay for the business that your father started, which suffered severely when the pandemic did its rounds. With no other family to turn to as all your grandparents had passed, your family had booked a motel for a week to organise themselves and try and figure out a living situation first, before looking at debt repayment strategies. The only available location within the affordable budget was in a very sketchy area, where crime was as natural as breathing. It was to no one’s surprise that your parents ended up losing their lives, the mode of death however was a surprise… so simple for a place where violence surrounds you. 

Their passing allowed you no time to grieve. You reached out to your older sister for support however every call, message and plea went unanswered. You weren’t surprised, she fell off the face of the earth a few years prior to the car accident, claiming she “made it” with her rich new boyfriend. You’d never met him, and you never knew what became of her. You had no time to grieve for the loss of your sibling bond either. 

The few days after the funeral, you had reached out to your old friend to ask for a place to live while you sorted yourself out. She had generously allowed you to stay on her couch as long as you needed, it was then that you truly felt the gravity of your situation. You got busy trying to find a job, only succeeding with night shifts at the convenience store. Depression manifested suddenly and severely in the following months, drowning you in waves ever since then. To put it lightly, there were more moments than you cared to admit where you convinced yourself that it might be easier if you just gave up. It’s in those moments that you can never truly place what brings you back from the edge. Was it the hope of reuniting with your sister? Was it the delusion of a misogynistic concept of being saved by a rich, loving prince charming? Was it the innate human nature of being desperate to live? As you mulled over this, you saw a shadow move towards your right, drawing you away from your melancholic thoughts. Trailing your eyes across the room, you spotted #001 keeping to the walls and heading towards the door. Huh. 

You knew it wasn’t your business, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes follow him. 

You hadn’t given him much thought since the vote, writing him off to be comprised of human greed like the rest of those who voted to stay (yourself included), but there was something magnetic about how he moved. He was like…a cat. No. More majestic. A panther. It was subtle but he moved with purpose, with such intention. Around him was an aura that just screamed superiority, but not in a condescending way. You had no clue what his past was but you’d bet your last dollar he had been in a position of power at one stage of his life. Normal people don’t walk that way. 

Even now, you couldn’t even say he’s creeping or hiding his movements as he walks to the door. He continues to walk with grace and purpose, it’s almost as though he’s bending the shadows to his will, and that they will listen to his command. He reached his destination and began a conversation with the pink guard stationed there. You quickly lost interest as you couldn’t hear anything, he’s probably just another older man needing to piss in the middle of the night. 

How curious though. Maybe you’d watch him tomorrow too. 

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

a/n: ahhhhh my first time writing in a very very long time!! would rly love any feedback <33

[coldfanbou]

More Than A Bath

I mixed things up a little with a soapland theme. I hope y'all enjoy

Length 2.7K

Nako x Mreader X Kazuha

You look up at the sign and take a deep breath. There were murmurs that she worked here, but you didn’t think it was true. You click your phone and check the time: 10 pm. The shop is supposed to be open now. You walk up to the door and step inside. The front room was decorated in such a way that it looked like a casino. To your left was a man behind the counter wiping it down. “Welcome! I haven’t seen your face before. Is it your first time here?” 

You nod your head, “It is.”

“Welcome to the Royal Flush. We offer great relaxation for men after a long day's work. We have a few options here, starting at thirty minutes and going up to two hours. That said, you can extend it up to another two hours.” The man motions to a blank board behind him before turning around. “My apologies; I forgot to turn this thing on. Just a moment.” He goes under his desk, flicking a button, causing the screen to light up with pictures of women on playing cards. You couldn’t see anyone who looked like her, though. He motions to the screen. “As you can see, we have many ladies available to help you. You can choose any one of them for your time here. Or if you’re feeling lucky, you can play the roulette.”

“What’s the roulette?” 

“I’m glad you asked, sir. The roulette is a wheel that gives you the chance to get two women for the price of one and even enables some that are usually reserved for special customers. The price to play is a little higher than choosing from the board, but if you hit the jackpot, you get two women for four hours. At worst, you’re paying a little more for our basic thirty-minute service, but at best, you’ll have the best night of your life. All you have to do is predict the space the ball will land in. What would you like, sir?”

You consider the chance the rumors were true, and she was just for special customers. “I choose the roulette.” After taking your money, the man smiles and asks you for a number. You choose the number she had ended up with on the show, six. The screen behind the man changes to a roulette wheel, and he begins the game. The ball on-screen moves around the roulette wheel, and while you don’t have high hopes for getting it right, you hope you’ll at least get something good.

As the ball begins to slow down,  you see it coming up on your number. Time slows down as the ball approaches the number six spot and swings past it one more time before coming around again. The ball loses momentum as it hits one of the ball deflectors, and miraculously, it plops into the six slot. The man smiles at you, “How rare.” He says, a slight amusement in his voice. “Congratulations, sir, you’ve hit the jackpot. You’ll be allowed to choose two women to help you relax and choose from our special menu. That being said, not everyone is in, so you’ll have limited choices.”  The screen behind the man changes again to show different women than before, and immediately, you spot her. Nako was working here. You continue to look at the boar, seeing other idols on it. Some of them greyed out to show they were unavailable. 

“How do you get them to come when they’re so busy with other activities?” 

“They need to relax too. All things considered, they come here pretty often. So who would you like?” You look back at the board, seeing other Japanese idols like Twice’s J-line and members of Le Sserafim. 

“I’d like Nako and Kazuha.” 

“Great choices. Here is your room number. They’ll be there in a moment. You may take the elevator to the top floor.” You give the man a nod and head to your room. Thoughts run through your mind. You never expected to find out that idols would work at some place like this. You hadn’t even considered what you would do now that you were faced with meeting Nako and Kazuha. 

When you get to your room, you tap the card the man gave you and step inside. It was a fully furnished apartment on the inside. You walk further in, seeing the view from your floor. You could see block after block of the city from your room. Wanting to look at the other rooms, you first come across the bathroom; poking your head inside, you see the usual inflatable you had seen in porn and notice the giant bath behind it. The floor was all tile, with a drain in the corner of the room. You check the other side of your room, seeing it was just a bedroom. Checking through the dressers, you notice sex toys and condoms, among other things. 

You hear a small beep from the front and head back to the living room to see Nako and Kazuha standing there. What’s immediately noticeable is their lack of clothing. Both are wearing just their bra and panties, only after you notice their hair being up. You gulp, nervous and unable to say a word. They give you a small smile and wave, obviously used to being seen in their state. Nako takes the lead, walking up to you and wrapping her around your back. “Take good care of us.” She says, her head on your chest. She shines a smile your way before letting you go. 

Kazuha pats the short woman’s bottom, “Would you like to get started, sir?”

“I would.” 

“This way, then.” Kazuha grabs your arm, pressing it against her modest breasts as she leads you to the bath. Nako grabs your other arm. Kazuha turns the water on for the bath, and the pair begin to strip you down, working quickly. 

“Oh, look at this.” Nako teases as she pulls down your pants. Your bulge was obvious to everyone. She runs her small hands along it before kneeling and rubbing her face against it. “Ah, it’s been so long. Kazuha,  aren’t you excited?” She says, looking at the younger woman. She grabs Kazuha’s hand, placing it on your crotch. “It’s big, huh?” Kazuha’s cheeks turn red, and she looks away from you, embarrassed. “Let’s get these off.” Nako tugs at your underwear until it finally comes off, your cock smacking her forehead. She’s stunned for a second but quickly laughs it off. Her small hand struggles to wrap itself around your shaft. “You are big!” She exclaims with a huge smile on her face. You groan as she strokes your shaft. While Nako plays with your cock, Kazuha takes off the little clothing she has, unhooking her bra and tossing it near the door before stepping out of her panties. Your attention quickly returns to Nako as you feel her tongue running back and forth over your cock. 

“Ah, Nako.” You moan, feeling your knees get weak from the sudden pleasure. She giggles before continuing. 

“We should get you in the bath,” Kazuha says as she strips Nako of her bra. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Nako?” Nako has a slight frown on her face but agrees, letting you go to remove her panties. Kazuha leads you into the tub, stepping in to test the water. The tub was wide enough to comfortably fit the three of you, with Nako on one side and Kazuha on the other. The shorter woman couldn’t seem to keep her hands off you. She reached for your cock, stroking it slowly as she pressed her tits into your arm. Kazuha sees what Nako is doing and joins in, turning onto her side and cupping your balls as she drags her nipples along your arm. You’re eyes are glued to Nako as she steadily moves her hand along your shaft. She plants her lips on yours and speeds up. You grunt in response, struggling to do much else. Your hand wraps around Nako, squeezing her tit and making her moan. Her devilish smile grows as her grip on your shaft tightens. Kazuha begins to whisper into your ear as you focus on Nako. “You’ve got Nako wrapped around your finger. Did you know she’s on birth control? You can cum inside her all you’d like.” Kazuha’s sensual voice continues, “I’m on birth control too. I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a few creampies either.” 

Your cock begins to twitch in Nako’s hand. “Don’t cum so quickly. We’re just getting started. Kazuha and I still need to wash your body. Maybe we should use the mat. You’d like that, right? It would mean we get to use our entire body.” You nod along and get out of the bath with Nako and Kazuha. They place you on the inflatable mat. Nako grinds on your leg, lightly moaning as she stares at your cock. Kazuha had gathered water and soap to clean your body before seeing Nako enjoying herself. She huffs and puts everything on the floor before getting behind the petite woman. 

“Nako, you’re forgetting your job. We’re supposed to be making the customer feel good.” She says, grabbing Nako’s small breasts and squeezing them. The short woman throws her head back and moans. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Nako asks as she grinds on your leg. “I just need a little release.”

“Nako, you’re being a slut in front of our customer,” Kazuha responds, digging her fingers into Nako’s skin.

“I’m a slut. I’m a slut,” Nako cries. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.” She breaks free from Kazuha’s grip and moves up to your crotch, rocking against your cock. Nako quickly raises herself and slams herself onto your cock. You fill the room with moans as you cum as soon as you’re buried inside Nako. You’re not the only one, though, as Nako cums with you. Feeling your warm cum flood into her cunt, Nako slowly grinds against you as she moans. Nako moves her fingers along her clit, rubbing it in small circles. “Ah, so full. I feel so hot, Kazuha.” You feel Nako’s cunt milking your cock. She was tight, her walls squeezing you with a lot of force.  Your eyes are glued to Nako, watching as she pleasures herself. You don’t notice Kazuha fingering herself as she watches Nako. She’s groping herself and pushing her fingers deeper into her cunt as Nako begins to move again. Nako leaves just the head inside before swallowing your cock in one movement. You stifle your moan while Nako lets hers fill the room. “You’re so big. Look here.” Nako says, pointing at a bulge. She presses on it; you grunt, realizing the bulge was because of you. Nako begins bouncing on your cock, moving at a steady pace as she gets used to your size. She holds your thighs and throws her head back as she moans, noticing Kazuha standing there. 

“Come on, Kazuha, join us. You’ll be in heaven.” Nako says, humming in bliss as she slams herself down, moving her hips to please both of you. Kazuha gets beside you, taking one of your hands and moving it toward her now aching cunt. “No, Kazuha ride him.” Nako says as she continues to use you. Kazuha looks at you, her face bright red, before nodding. She silently positions herself over your face, trying to lower herself gently. She was taking a little too long for you, and you decided to pull her down. Your tongue pushes past her wet lips, diving inside her. You felt Kazuha squirm on top of you; she placed her hands on your chest as she let a river of moans flow out from her. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Just wait until this is inside you.” Nako tells her coworker as she rubs the bulge. Kazuha's breathing quickens as she feels your tongue lapping at her walls. She struggles to keep herself up. Nako sees her friend struggling and lifts Kazuha’s head before kissing her. “I love seeing you like this.”  Nako seems almost drunk on the pleasure she’s receiving; she plays with Kazuha’s tit, attaching herself to her nipple and swirling her tongue around it.

You dig your hands into Kazuha’s waist, keeping her in place. She began to grind against your face, the pleasure making her go crazy. The pleasure from you and Nako was pushing her toward the edge. She started to whimper as she closed in on her climax. “I don’t want to…I don’t want to cum yet.” She whined as she came. Kazuha’s body twitched as she came, her body rocking uncontrollably. Nako smiled, loving the sight of Kazuha cumming on your face. You lap up her sweet nectar, making the younger woman shiver before she falls to the side. 

“Can you give me a taste?” Nako asks as she leans in. You were more than willing to share, pushing your tongue into her mouth. You sat up and grabbed Nako’s waist. You held her for a moment before moving her up and down your shaft. She began to groan as you took control of her. You rammed every inch into Nako’s small body, enjoying as her cries of pleasure came more often and eventually turned into whines. “I’m going to cum. I’m- I’m cumming!” Nako screamed as you continued to use her. Your cock began to twitch inside her cunt, and you told her to get ready for another creampie. “F-fuck, do it cum in me,” Nako whined as you impaled her on your shaft and shot your cum into her. Nako’s walls clamped down around your cock, rubbing the head and making you want to go deeper. Your cum flooded Nako’s pussy, leaking out of her before you even pulled out. You take a good look at Nako, the blissful expression on her face, the drool running down her cheek as her mind goes. 

Nako collapses on you, her cunt still squeezing your cock long after your orgasm ended. You lift her off and turn to Kazuha. She was face down on the floor, still recovering. Your eyes move down her smooth back until you notice her shapely bottom. You get behind her and stroke your cock, getting yourself ready for another round. 

With your other hand, you grab Kazuha’s waist and lift her ass. You press your cock against her entrance and slowly push yourself inside the young woman. “Ah, you're stretching my pussy,” She groans weakly. Kazuha manages to get her arms under herself and push her face off the floor. She looks over her shoulder to see you pushing yourself inside. Kazuha’s walls welcomed you, snuggly wrapping around your cock as you rested inside her. You were close to cumming, sensitive from your last orgasm. Still, you pushed onward, beginning to thrust into the young woman, your pace picking up. You have to dig your fingers into Kazuha’s waist to keep her from moving. As you’re pounding away at her body, you can’t help but look at Kazuha’s beautiful ass; you pull back your hand and slam it into her soft ass. She yelps from the hit. A handprint begins to form because of the force used, but Kazuha begs you to do it again. 

You drive your hand into her ass again. She moans this time, loving the pain. Nako comes around, lying on the inflatable mattress and looking at Kazuha. Her fingers playing with her clit as she watches. You’re getting turned on by having Nako watch you and begin to move faster, slamming yourself into Kazuha without a second thought. The young woman’s moans become louder, and her walls clamp down around your cock. You were both nearing your climax. You couldn’t hold it any longer and buried yourself inside Kazuha, filling her womb with your cum. Your orgasm triggered hers. As soon as she felt your thick cum fill her, Kazuha arced her back and came on your cock. You could hear Nako teasing Kazuha, but her words were muddled as you focused in on the image of Kazuha’s back.

When you start to regain yourself, you hear Nako’s voice. “We still have three hours, Kazuha. How are you going to last that long?” Nako pinched the younger woman’s cheeks. “Are you going to make me take him the whole time? I don’t mind, but you have to be professional.” Nako turns her attention to you. “Why don’t we head for the bedroom? We can take Kazuha with us. She loves watching.” You nod your head, ready to spend more time with Nako.

[bitterbutblue]

Is it bad i can imagine Robin as a hopelessly inlove girl like ofmgsh?? Like knowing how popular she is, she doesn’t have an attraction to anyone, seeing how some of her fans are just obsessed. She doesn’t like any of that.

But when she sees how polite and respectful you are, she’s immediately hooked.

Like you’re taking a liking to new cafe? You'll find that all your orders are on the house, already paid. Needing to vent? Her phone is always available ready for any of your calls or messages with flowers mysteriously on your doorstep the next day. You’re sick? She immediately drops everything to take a drive to your house with medicine and some of your favourite snacks in hand.

Please i love Robin, and i will ramble on and on about her everyday 🥺

~🍷

the way i manifested for robin before my final exams like i sat down with a group of friends and we did a little prayer circle and i hit the ten pull button while on 5050 adn we got robin and i proceeded to absolutely NAIL the exams on that day. she's my favourite for a reason.

⤷ you were just one of the people who worked in the fan meet and greets, setting up the venue and whatnot.

⤷ everyone there was going insaneee about THE robin being there, and you were excited too but upon seeing the way her fans treated her or behaved when seeing her, you couldn't help but feel bad

⤷ poor bby looked so uncomfortable, especially when the men are talking to her and trying to touch her as she walks off the stage. so you quickly took action (knowing it mayyyy cost you your job cause they could file complaints) but you couldn't care less.

⤷ you walk up to the man and aggressively shoulder him, pushing him aside as you approach robin to ask if she's okay with a very gentle smile

⤷ oh she's so gay.

⤷ fell for you hard and fast. literally offered you a job on the spot and you were like wtf

⤷ the entire time you worked as her assistant she clearly was in love with you. remembered your birthday, your favourite drinks depending on your mood, your favourite foods, snacks, everything. Always ordered a drink for you too, and you felt bad but she keeps insisting on treating you

⤷ no assistant of hers has ever been as caring as you!! always looking out for her, and arguing with the higher ups if you feel like they're pushing her too far and that was reallyyy what made her fall in love

⤷ you cared so much about her, not just because she's a celebrity but because she's a person. it's been so long she's forgotten how it feels to actually be cared for and not just looked at

⤷ she confesses to you one day when you snapped at her manager for commenting on her body weight again. you were sick of it- robin had barely gained anything but they wouldn't stop talking to her about losing weight so you snapped.

⤷ the manager demanded to have you fired but robin refused. instead she had sunday fire the manager.

⤷ it was a weird surge of emotions she felt in the moment, having someone actually look out for her. your face was red from anger and your breathing was unsteady, a look of pure irritation in your eyes but the moment you laid your eyes back on her the irritation fades into nothing but worry and she's smitten.

⤷ she asks you out on a date when you were walking her down to her car that'll drive you home and you thought you were dreaming.

⤷ she giggled at how u just stared at her, looking so confused and shocked

⤷ she kissed you on the cheek and your entire face just turned brick red

⤷ the next day, she got you another drink. except this time there was a heart doodled on the side, and a promotion letter next to it- asking you to be her manager.

⤷ the most loving girlfriend SERIOUSLYYYYY she doesn't take SHIT from anyone if they say anything bad about you. okay they can talk shit about her, but YOU? she'll start throwing hands

⤷ now that you're dating she spends even more money on u like christ, you knew she was rich but this is a whole other level.

⤷ rented out your favourite cat cafe for the day so you two could have a date in silence and peace without the stress of the cameras

⤷ wrote an entire album about you and you melted when you listened to it for the first time

⤷ despite how busy she was, she still makes you the most thoughtful handmade gifts. she learned to crochet to make you a beanie for when it gets cold when she realised you didn't have one in possession

⤷ she's your lover girl, forever and always <33

[richarlotte]

The Health Club Aura.

When I was working at my local country club, I had a member tell me that I had a health club aura. She told me that every time she saw me, I always looked refreshed, my hair was always perfect, my makeup stayed on point, my nails were beautiful, and I had an aura of health and wellness around me. I wore entirely white outfits, and she told me that she’d seen me at the end of long shifts, and I always looked like I’d just started. I always smiled, and I was an island of relaxation in an otherwise fast paced club and course.

Hydration, skincare, losing weight, and proper nutrition played the biggest roles in getting this aura. I completely changed my diet and started drinking the cucumber, lemon-lime, and fruit infused water that was available in the club. I lessened the amount of processed food I was eating and started watching what I ate, and I was obviously walking and putting my back into the classes I would take in the health club area of my country club. I started Pilates and Barre and would take 2 classes per day, 5 days per week. Immersing myself in that world, following the lead of my friends, and spending time in that environment really improved me and helped to shape my mind.

As for looks, all of the girls who were working as Bev Cart Girls or Front Desk Girls had a rule. We could wear the colors of the club, lighter colors, or bright white. Because I would rotate between my cart and the front desk, I’d wear white exercise sets. I thought they popped on my skin; I kept my hair long and loose; I wore white tennis shoes and visors; and I always had natural makeup and French tips. I grew up in a high-income neighborhood, and this club was known to tip well, but on my best day on my cart, I made around $2,100 in cash tips. Physical beauty wasn't huge and weight was “negotiable”, but fitting the part and conveying a vibe of relaxed luxury absolutely was.

My personality was absolutely what carried me. I’m definitely extroverted; I love being social with people and getting to know my peers, and I think that having a good personality and being willing to spend time getting to know people absolutely changed things for me. As soon as I started putting an effort into getting to know people, I found that more and more people wanted to get to know me. An integral part of the job was just sitting up front, taking names, checking people in and out, and asking how their day had been before they came to see me. It wasn’t just men; it was women and teenagers too. This job and the social skills I learned from it completely how I view the world now.

The most important thing that the job gave me was the health club aura I had. I learned so much from women who came from high-profile families in my city and worked alongside their daughters; I made some of the best money of my life; and I made connections and met people who elevated me to better jobs, gave me more opportunities, and played their part in my life. It's really just a jokey nickname for the way people view me; I think that it's a play on the fact that my home club had a group of young women who called themselves the Health Club Girls. Life is about putting yourself in proximity to privilege in order to level up with less difficulty, and for me, that meant working somewhere where I could watch and learn.

TL;DR: Sometimes you have to apply to jobs that will give you access to the life you want and use those jobs as stepping stones to a connections and a better life. It’s working smart, not hard.

[phacheltheprophetess]

How You’re Currently Being Perceived!?!?!? Piles 1-3 Respectfully

Pile One: You’re seen as someone who keeps a lot of your business private. You only show the good parts of yourself and always have a good mood whenever you come around friends or family. People don’t think they know much about you personally but still hold you to a high regard because of your kindness. People wonder if you’re hiding your struggles on purpose out of embarrassment. You’re seen as someone with a ton of valuable and useful information. You’re seen as having a lot of money and value around you as well. You’re also not afraid of conflict and will express and defend yourself no matter what. You are not a doormat.

Pile Two: You could’ve recently publicly ended a relationship or friendship around you and people who know are talking about this. You’re being seen as very physically beautiful and attractive You can have anyone you want basically. People are saying how you have someone messed up about you and in their head a lot over the connection and in regret about losing you. You’re being seen as not worried about the past and focusing on what’s next for your life right now. You’re working on yourself and proud of how far you’ve came in your accomplishments. People are saying if you were ever hurt over this situation you do a good job at covering that up. It seems your current state of mind is clear and healthy.

Pile Three: You’re seen as very intelligent and well put together to the public eye. From what others can see you have all your stuff together pretty well and you need for nothing. Some people do assume maybe it’s something you’re hiding. A lie or façade or front you’re putting on for people. These are people who just aren’t in your friend circle, they don’t know your business so they’re just assuming and filling in the holes. People are very curious about your mysterious nature and would love to get to know you better. You’re seen as very fun and funny as well. People see you as someone always working, head on straight, and very much living a fulfilling life.

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READINGS ARE ALWAYS TIMELESS WHEN YOU SEE IT IS WHEN YOU WERE MEANT TO SEE IT

Picked up on the collective general energy for this reading. Much like every other pick a pile it had no specific audience in mind. So if you felt drawn to this post it was simply meant for you to see 💕

I offer more personalized & concise messages always available via dms and/or email divineempress777@gmail.com

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[fanficsbysteve]

Jeremy Crow

Note: When I write my BuckTommy stuff, I always draw on my own personal experiences when writing stuff for Tommy. He’s a 40 year old gay man, I’m a 40 year old gay man. His Dad was abusive as shit growing up. My Dad was abusive as shit growing up. So, I feel we could have some very similar stuff happen in our lives. So, I had this thought and figured that in my head this was true. So, enjoy another of my silly little headcanons.

Also available on AO3 if you want to leave Kudos.

***

Tommy took Evan up to his bedroom to get ready for bed, and some other things beforehand but Tommy was not going to push for that. It had been two weeks since they had spoken and realized they were both idiots and decided to try again, just not going at light speed that Evan had been going at. Tommy was going to talk about how things made him feel and wasn’t just ‘trying to keep up’ with Evan’s pace. They were also going to go at Tommy’s pace as well.

     Going into the room, Tommy looked at the bed and spotted something sitting in the middle of the bed. Tommy froze. Oh god he had forgotten to put that away. Evan went past Tommy into the room and his eyes also fell onto the bed, “Oh what’s that?” he asked, looking at the bed as well.

     Sitting in the middle of the pillows was a stuffed crow. It looked like it had seen better days, its better days being three decades ago. The black fuzz that had been its torso had all but worn away, the paint on its eyes had been rubbed off and was just the white of the eyes now. The only part that seemed to have withstood the test of time was the beak of the crow, “Um…” Tommy started, “That would be Jeremy. Jeremy Crow.”

 Tommy looked at the crow sitting on his bed, named after a character from a movie he had watched as a child. He had gotten it when he was around five years old and had been sleeping with him every night since. There was something comforting about having Jeremy with him. He slept better. Tommy sometimes thought that Jeremy kept the bad dreams away. He never had them when he had Jeremy in his arms. He had been trying to hide Jeremy away, not wanting Evan to see him because he was scared of what Evan would think about him. A grown man still sleeping with a stuffed animal from his childhood.

     Evan did something that shocked Tommy. Something he hadn’t expected. Evan walked over to the bed, got in, motioned for Tommy to join him, and handed Jeremy over to Tommy, “So tell me about Jeremy,” Evan asked as he lie down.

     Tommy took Jeremy and held him close, feeling the comfort that Jeremy brought to him, “I’ve had him for years,” Tommy started, “My Mom had seen him at a Garage sale and bought him for me. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up so things like this were rare. My mom did enjoy going to garage sales though. She could always find the most interesting treasures at those,” Tommy went to lay down fully in bed, “She passed away about a year after she gave me Jeremy. It’s the only thing I have left that reminds me of her.”

     Evan pulled Tommy into a cuddle. Wrapping his arms around the both of them, “I’m sorry that happened,” Evan said. Tommy had told him about how his mother had died when he was about 6 years old, and how his home life had gone downhill after that as his father had become an alcoholic, “I’m glad you still have something that reminds you of her.”

     Tommy let Evan hold him, feeling his warmth, Jeremy tucked in close to his chest, “I might not have it for long anyways,” Tommy said, “You saw what he looked like. He’s seen better days. I think his best days were back when I was a child. Soon he’s just going to fall apart like most things in my life and I’ll lose the last shred of my Mom.”

     Tommy felt tears welling up, but he refused to let them fall. He would not cry over this. He would remain strong, “You won’t lose the last shred of your Mom though,” Evan gave Tommy a squeeze, “She lives inside you. And you will always have her memory. Jeremy is a reminder of those memories but he’s just a thing.”

     “I know,” Tommy said, “Doesn’t make it less painful that I’ll lose him. Did you know that he’s the reason I don’t have nightmares all the time?”

     “You believe that your stuffed crow stops nightmares?” Evan sounded, “But my belief that I was cursed by a dead cowboy was silly?”

     “Oh, leave me alone,” Tommy playfully elbowed Evan, “I have my own beliefs just like you. I don’t believe in curses, but I’ve never had a nightmare so long as I have Jeremy with me. You’ve experienced my nightmares.”

     Tommy remembered when he was staying over at Evan’s place a few months ago. He felt he had his nightmares under control. He was very wrong. He had been having a flashback to his time in Iraq, he had joined the military and was working as a helicopter pilot, one of those big troop carrier types. They were flying over the desert when out of nowhere, someone fired a missile at them. Tommy saw it coming but not in time and the back of the chopper had been hit. He did everything he could to get them down safely, but they ended up crashing no matter what Tommy did. Six men died on impact. They were nowhere near a city or town. It took them 3 days to find their way back. Tommy had woken up screaming that night. Evan was freaking out about what was happening. He had no idea the PTSD that Tommy was suppressing every day, “I know,” Evan replied, continuing to hold him.

     “Lets just get some sleep,” Tommy said. He was exhausted from having to remember so many things he’s been trying so hard to keep down.

***

     Tommy was at Evan’s loft, laying in bed, waiting for Evan to finish up in the bathroom. He was ready for bed, laying in just his boxers, nothing else on. He preferred to sleep like this when at Evan’s loft. Evan kept the temperature up higher than Tommy did at his house, so it was always far too warm for him in the loft. Hot air rising and all that. Evan came out of the bathroom, dressed only in his underwear as well, and crawled into bed, “I got you something,” Evan said as he leaned over the bed to grab something from the side. Tommy was confused, “Since you don’t have Jeremy Crow while over here, I wanted you to have something to hold, maybe to keep the dreams at bay,” Evan pulled up a penguin, the size of Jeremy.

     Tommy reached out to take it from Evan. He had tears in his eyes. This was the first time someone had actually not mocked him for having Jeremy. The fact that Evan had taken the time to go out, find this penguin, just for Tommy to sleep with so he didn’t wake up screaming, which meant something to Tommy, “Evan,” was all he could manage to get out as his throat constricted as he wanted to cry.

     “He doesn’t have a name yet,” Evan replied, “I figured that you would want to name him yourself. I don’t know any good penguin movies besides Happy Feet. So, I will leave naming him to you,” Evan continued, “And if he works, would you allow me to take Jeremy to someone I found? After you showed me Jeremy, I started falling down a research hole.”

     Tommy was just staring at the penguin while Evan spoke, barely hearing what he was saying. Tommy at this moment knew that Evan was the one. The one to spend the rest of his life with. He just didn’t know how to broach the subject now. They had only been back together for three weeks, “Sorry what?”

     “I was asking if I could take Jeremy to a repair shop I found online,” Evan repeated. Tommy leaned into Evan, just staring at this new penguin, “He’s got a great online presence, lots of five star reviews on Google. I figured we could make Jeremy last awhile longer if we took him in for some repairs.”

     Tommy nodded his head absently at that, “Sounds good,” He said.

     “You seem a little out of it,” Evan asked, “Something wrong?”

     “Not really,” Tommy replied, “I’ve never had someone care about me so much. Usually, it was open mockery if anyone actually saw Jeremy. You are the first person who actually cared about me enough to not only not mock me about my crow that I sleep with, but you went out of your way to get something so that I could sleep well at your place as well.”

     “Well, you are important to me,” Evan said, “I wouldn’t have blurted out about moving in together all those months ago if I didn’t mean it. I want you to feel like you are at home here as well until the day we do decide to take the next steps.”

     Now it was Tommy’s turn to blurt things out. He shouldn’t have but he couldn’t help himself. He felt so complete now with Evan, knowing about his nightmares, how to help with them, “I love you,” Tommy said turning his head to face Evan, “I love you more than anything in this world. You are the first person who has ever taken the time to understand me. I want you to be my last.”

     Tommy watched as Evan was taken aback by his statement for a brief second, “I didn’t expect that,” a smile broke out over Evan’s face, “I love you too you fool. I figured that out months ago when I asked you to move in.”

     “We both agreed we were idiots,” Tommy said as he brought the penguin in for a tight hug. He felt similar to Jeremy, but softer, “But yes you can take Jeremy in for repairs, but only because I have Hubie here.”

     “Hubie?” Evan asked about the name.

     Tommy smiled, “Yes Hubie. I’m a child of the 80’s and 90’s. I watched a lot of Don Bluth movies. There was one about penguins and the main character is named Hubie. So, it fits.”

     “You’ll have to show me the movies that you get your names from one of these days,” Evan said, “But now lets get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

     Tommy turned on his side, letting Evan take the Big Spoon position, holding Hubie close. A content sigh left his body as he felt this soft penguin in his arms, and Evan’s arms pulling him close. This was the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

***

Note: So yeah, I admit that I still have stuffed animals. I have the stuffed Mickey Mouse I had since I as a child still in my bedroom. I also have a stuffed Penguin I sleep with named Mr. Pickles. Just something I need to sleep. If I don’t have one of them, I can’t sleep well. And yes, I am actually a 40 year old man who sleeps with a stuffed penguin. Hate all you want but you won’t change me. For the record, Jeremy Crow came from The Secret of NIMH, and Hubie the Penguin is from The Pebble and the Penguin. Both Don Bluth movies.

[sailorsoons]

Collection Details: This collection contains individual fics with each member of SVT paired with a different reader that occur in the same universe/AU and timeline. Each story is a stand alone, but three of them do have a connected/overarching plot. You do not need to read all of them to understand what's going on, and all of the fics can be read as standalone one shots.

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Collection Warnings: Criminal behavior, morally gray characters, murder, depictions of violence and murder, general violence associated with mafia/criminal activity, recreational drug sale and use, depictions and mentions of death, recreational drinking and drug use - each individual fic will be heavily tagged and warned appropriately.

Please Note: This is a repost from my original blog.

Special thank you to @daechwitatamic who had reblogged the original masterlist and still had it on her blog for me to rebuild this navigation. Eternally grateful.

Main Masterlist | Tag List Request Form | Ask

CONNECTED WORKS

Baby | Omertà | Menagerie

FULL COLLECTION

Baby | Available Now

★ Soonyoung has been in your life for as long as you can remember. You haven’t spoken since your wedding to someone who isn’t him, but when you uncover your husband’s plans to turn against your family, you don’t know who else to call. 

Vengeance | Available Now

★ You always knew you were different from a young age. The only person who has ever been able to understand you is Vernon. When things take a turn for the Choi Syndicate, your long-term relationship is put to the test.

Til Death | Coming 2025

★ Being the heir of a powerful family has it's benefits - you get to go to whatever parties you want, vacation places people only dream of, and meet all the powerful entities of the city. It also has it's struggles, like being forced to marry a man you don't know - except you do know Minghao, who was your one night stand only a week prior.

Cherry Sours | Coming 2025

★ Nothing in your life ever comes easy. Not family, not money, and certainly not jobs to pay the endless stack of bills. The only thing easy are the smiles you give Chan when he comes into your convenient store the same time every Saturday to buy his cherry sours. And then one day he arrives late, and everything changes.

Street Demon | Coming 2025

★ You've been street racing since you could reach the pedal of a car - it's the only thing you've ever been good at. When a rival decides they're tired of losing to you, Seungkwan steps in to show he's more than just a street racer.

Omertà | Coming 2025

★ Omertà (n) /ˌōmerˈtä,ōˈmərdə/ - code of silence, honor, and conduct that emphasizes remaining silent when questioned by authorities or outsiders. Or Jeonghan makes sure you stay on top of paying off your father's debts by making you betray everyone you've ever known during a Syndicate war.

Kerosine | Coming 2025

★ Jihoon knew growing up he would be expected to practice law like his mother, protecting the assets and the associates of the Choi Syndicate. He's had no problem doing that so far - until he gets you as a client.

Stituation | Coming 2025

★ Working the late night shift at the ER in the dangerous part of town sucks. Finding out the two repeat patients you've been flirting with are roommates is worse.

Corrosive | Coming 2025

★ Trying to unravel the Syndicates that run the city isn't what Seokmin ever dreamed he'd be doing. Turns out he's good at it. At least until he meets you and everything he knows about the city's criminal empires is turned on its head.

Gin & Tonic | Coming 2025

★ There is little benefit to working the underground fighting ring that belongs to the Choi Syndicate besides good pay. Another one? Getting to watch Junhui in the cage most nightsand serving him his gin and tonic after he wins.

Dead to Me | Coming 2025

★ You and Joshua ended things on a terrible note and you haven't seen him since, doing your best to avoid him - that is until he comes to your untimely and most annoying rescue.

Menagerie | Coming 2025

★ Choi Seungcheol has been struggling since he stepped into his father's role leading the family syndicate. Nothing has been easy, fighting a war against both known and unknown enemies. You're easy though, making all of his troubles float away. And then those troubles come knocking on your door.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

[sagittariusmarz]

How’s your school year going to be? (pac) *follower request

Pile 1

I see that you’re going to be making new friends or spending more time with your friends, for some of you I see you having a crush in your friend but trying to repress your feelings. I see that you may be attracted to a dark masculine energy or you’re going to be exuding that this year, I see you doing some sexual activity with a masculine energy(they may have a messy room?). I see you feeling a little disorganized this year or feeling overwhelmed so you may be a little messy or just not cleaning as much, I see you saving more money or having a windfall of abundance. I see you people approaching you more/people being friendlier to you, I see you letting go of the old and toxic things in your life. You may feel like you’re having an easier time absorbing information, you may have a “tower” moment but in a positive way. Confirmation- dark brown hair. Signs- Leo, Gemini, scorpio. Initials- P, D, M, X

Pile 2

I see that this year you’re going to be standing out, I see people recognizing how unique you are. I see someone around (maybe a feminine energy) who has hidden intentions or they’re trying to bring you down/make you lose confidence in yourself, I see you proving people wrong and letting your intuition guide you. I see you in your feminine energy more or listening more to your feminine energy, I see you realizing that not everyone actually likes you but you’re not going to let that bother you. I see that you need to beware of unsupportive and self centere people, listen to your intuition. Signs- Aries, Taurus, Aquarius. Initials- C, U, Y, I, O, K, B

Pile 3

(Angel number 12/1212/ December?)I see you manifesting easier/getting what you want easier, I see your finances improving. I see you having a lot of ideas but you need to be logical about it and don’t be impulsive, it’ll be important his year not to overwhelm yourself and don’t try to do everything. Take time for yourself and don’t procrastinate, I see you trying to focus more on your schoolwork/goals rather than your love life. I see you being more consistent and putting your guard up more/being more defensive, I see you moving on from someone you were infatuated with and being less emotional. I see you dealing with someone who’s immature and realizing that it’s not a good emotional investment. Signs- Sagittarius/leo, initials- T, I, Q

Personal readings always available

Pngs by @saizun @trash-pngs @encautiveria Divider by @thecutestgrotto