#just gotta speak to the area manager

[angiethewitch]

so I may be getting promoted to a management position in the next couple of weeks. not bad for an autistic schizophrenic who was too scared to leave the house just two years ago

[holyblonded]

consequences of my actions | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: paige and kenza have to deal with the repercussions of the night before

warnings: none(?)

notes: italics are spanish or Catalan; sorry for the wait i needed a break after the results of the election (we are cooked!) 😍

THE FEELING ON THE SUN AND THE SOFT HUM OF WHATEVER JULIO IGLESIAS SONG WAS CURRENTLY PLAYING, WOKE PAIGE UP FROM HER PEACEFUL SLUMBER.

Paige could tell she was in Kenza's apartment as the distinct aroma of coco butter and lavender circulated the room. The blonde's feet touched the cold floor and she was greeted by the few month old Cane Corso puppy that she and Kenza rescued from a frat house. Paige picked up Draco and carried him to the living area where Kenza was making breakfast. Setting the dog down to eat, Paige snuck up and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl.

"You always wake up so early," Paige complained as she glimpsed at the clock that read 7:24am. "Even on your off days."

Kenza smiled and she transferred the seasoned scrambled eggs to the plate and moved on to cook the salmon. "You know I need my early morning run."

Paige did know that, as it was a habit the girl picked up from her Mami. Kenza and Diana wake up bright and early at 5am to go for a daily run. Whenever her Diana held basketball camps, the same ones Paige attended, the camp would go on the run and it's safe to say Paige is not a morning person. Paige also knew she kept these runs up in Barcelona when she would send her morning pictures of her running to a cafe to get a drink.

Shaking her head at the thought, Paige kissed Kenza's cheek before going to the record player and changing the vinyl to The Supremes. Kenza laughed when Paige danced her was back to island where Kenza set their food down.

Paige grabbed Kenza's hand and pulled the girl to her before anchoring her free hand on the brunette's waist. The pair danced to Someday We'll Be Together. As Paige looked down at Kenza laughing as they clumsily tripped over their feet many times

The two sat at Kenza's island eating area, the freshly cooked breakfast, and the sunlight that streamed through the blinds and onto their skin. Paige's eyes seemed to unintentionally pierce through Kenza's soul while admiring her.

"Paige, you're gonna piss me all the way off if you keep staring at me,” Kenza said in such a sweet tone, "Wack ass blue eyes."

Paige couldn't help but laugh at the out of pocket comment before standing up and taking their plates to the sink. "I hear you, Kenny but we gotta go to the vet remember."

IMESSAGE

real madrid haters 🦅

pro yapper (jaheem)

gavi lover (leo)

mind witch (erykah)

evil twin (gavi)

lioness

KENZ

DID YOU SEE TSR

evil twin

I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SEND IT

pro yapper

aye kenza you gotta get your

lick back and punch that nigga

evil twin

i’m with jaheem

mind witch

NOT THE CURRENT

CONCERN

lioness

ONG

EVERYONE THINKS

YOU AND PAIGE ARE DATING

.... are you 👀

pro yapper

wait a cotton picking minute

they weren't dating all this time?

lioness

...why are you even the gc 🫥

KENZ RESPOND

pro yapper

y'all know she ain't gonna

respond

she's at the vet rn

check her lo

mind witch

WHY DIDNT YOU SAY

THAT EARLIER

pro yapper

alr y'all gonna piss me off

Kenza sighed as she was on the phone with her manager that was rapidly speaking Catalan. Kenza toyed with a magazine at the vet's office, waiting for Draco.

"Caterina, please calm down. You're in town at the office, right? I'll swing by after the vet appointment and we can get it all sorted out, mkay?" Kenza responded in Catalan and decided not to give the older woman a chance to respond. "Great! Bye, love you." Kenza hung up and threw her head back with a groan, running her hands across her face. She glanced at her phone, seeing the Barcelona group chat blow up, likely teasing the baby of the group about the situation. Kenza looked across the room where Paige stood, seemingly dealing with the same situation with her manager.

"Draco has officially gotten his five month shots," the vet announced to Paige and Kenza. With Paige still on the phone, Kenza got up to grab Draco who was seemingly excited as he got a new toy.

"Draco! Were you a good boy?" Kenza crouched down to pet the overly energetic dog as he basically tried to climb her.

"Just make sure to schedule his next appointment," the vet told Paige, who just got off the phone and was standing behind Kenza and Draco.

The pair thanked the vet and strolled to the Kenza's Porsche Cayenne in the parking garage. Paige opened the door for Kenza before putting Draco in her lap.

"My manager and your manager want to meet together," Paige told the girl as she started the car. Paige always drove when it was just her and Kenza. Mostly because Paige was afraid of the way Kenza drove, but also for safety purposes.

Kenza groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day, "Who even recorded that video? This is dumb."

"You come to America to further your education. Yet somehow, you get into more trouble here than Barcelona!" Caterina scolded Kenza like a toddler who drew on the walls. Caterina has been Kenza's manager since she started at La Masia and started to see Kenza as her first born after a while. That being said, whenever Kenza made poor decisions, she got a lecture not only from Alexia but Caterina too. "Nena, do you need another media training course? Because you might be asking for it at this point!"

Kenza stayed silent ask Paige and her manager walked in, making Caterina take a seat, "After this, you will call Alexia and explain to her."

Kenza's head shot up to look her manager in the eye for the first time since she got there. "Cat, no."

"Paige, Kenza, while the situation that occurred isn't a big deal when you look at it, the media has made it one. But, we have found a way to turn this into positive press." Caterina started, crossing her legs, "Both fanbases seem to like you together and we are going to profit on that. In order to outweigh the negativity of the situation, the two of you are going to fake date."

[princessbrunette]

babydaddy!jj still being hopelessly in love with reader. constantly finding reason to be at her place, fixing anything if it breaks, having play dates with your daughter that lead you him sleeping over and waking up to you making him breakfast while he feeds your daughter. all the emotions come running back and he just knows he wants to make you his wife. maybe he’d just blurt it out because he can’t help himself

this. he is relentless. constantly showing up unannounced just to ask you the most random question.

୨ৎ . ⸝⸝ ! 🌙 ꒱

when you open the door you look all stressed and tired and you have coffee down your top and he just wants to make your life easier and help you so bad! cocomelon is on full blast, your baby is loudly babbling and shouting and you’re just simultaneously relieved at his presence but also stubborn, shaking your head at him. “jj this could have been a text.” you respond briskly and his eyes dart between you and your hallway before wedging himself through your door slightly.

“yeah, no for sure uh— i was just in the area, y’know how it is and my phone died so… hold on a minute, what’s this?” he points to the small side table in your hallway and you furrow your brows, too exhausted for the conversation.

“a table.” you answer in deadpan.

“well, you’re damn right about that— but look, right here. this!” he points to the corner. “you know, soon enough our lil girl is gonna start crawlin’ and when she does things like this are gonna be a total danger to her and her squishy head. what if she falls, huh? rams right into it? did’ya consider that?” he’s being totally theatrical, nudging his foot against the low table on the ground.

“i’m sure we’ll manage, jay—”

“nope. you got tape? i’m baby proofin’ the shit outta this house.” he slides into your home, walking straight through to the living room where you hear him greet your baby. “theres my favourite little gremlin!”

you lean against the wall for a second, disorientated from lack of sleep before following him in and dropping down on the couch. “the tapes in the kitchen drawer. just watch her for a little would you? just gonna close my eyes for a second.” you hum, sinking into the couch. you feel the seat dip beside you, and a hand on your arm.

“hey, you been gettin’ any sleep?” his voice is gentler now, concerned.

“m’fine.” you rasp, half asleep already. he sighs out his nose.

“di’nt i tell you to call me if you needed me to take her? dont gotta do this all by yourself, mama.” he softly reprimands and you shrug, too sleepy to argue and he lets it go, watching you for a moment.

you wake up, in your bed at around 2AM — JJ clearly having taken over for the whole night, putting you and the baby to sleep. you shoot up, disorientated and concerned, going to sprint from your bed but accidentally stepping on the blonde sleeping on the floor beside it.

“ow, jeez woman!” he groans, sitting up.

“jay— you, where’s —”

“asleep. you’re meant to be sleepin’ too. you knocked the hell out, aaand… i didn’t wanna wake you n’stuff so…” he explains, running a hand through matted hair. you blink yourself more awake, looking around before back at him.

“why are you down there?” you exasperate and he blinks back at you.

“uh…”

“‘can sleep in here with me jj, it’s fine. you put a baby in me for gods sake you don’t have to act so repulsed.” you grumble before rolling over to face the other way, making room for him. at this, he shoots up, appearing directly behind you in bed.

“hey, woah — quite the accusation there. s’not true, alright? i was being…respectful. that’s my bad.” he holds his hands up and you unclench your muscles slightly, relaxing more into the bed.

“‘kay.” your tone softens and so does he, laying down and getting comfortable beside you, staring at the ceiling. after a moment he speaks again, quietly.

“repulsed… yeah right, dude. i’m like the freakin’ opposite. you have no clue.”

in the morning he’s not by your side, but when you pad out into the kitchen — you find your baby in her high-chair, being spoon fed by her blonde father.

“look who it is, say riiiise and shine, mama.” jj, cheerful as ever grins as he spoons more mush into the babies mouth. she babbles out spitty sounds in retaliation, equally thrilled to see you. “yeah, close enough.” he chuckles, wiping the mess on her chin.

“good morning baby!” you coo, leaning forward to kiss her soft head. “and good morning daddy.” you gently place your hand on his back as you pass him making his heart skip a beat, watching you rifle the cabinet for your mug to make some coffee.

“oo, i remember when you used t’call me that.” he smirks to himself, spooning up more baby food and you whip your head around to give him a look.

“jj! not infront of the baby.” you huff, light heartedly and he holds up a hand.

“my bad, my bad.”

his smile doesn’t fade, and when you turn you back to pick out a mug — you grow one of your own.

୨ৎ . ⸝⸝ ! 🌙 ꒱

[schlatt-love-bot]

yuck! part 2 - schlatt x reader

[part one, part 1.5, part two (currently reading), part three]

now listening: yuck - charli xcx 0:40 ──❍──── 2:19 ↻ ⊲  Ⅱ  ⊳  ↺

“Uhh…hi. I guess we’re partners?” You chuckled, sitting in the empty desk next to Schlatt, as he glanced up, about to grumble something about just splitting the work 50/50 and never speaking again, until he locked eyes with yours. He felt oddly entranced, needing to know more about this mysterious person he was suddenly partnered with. 

“Uhhh, yeah…assuming you’re (Y/N), right?” He said, leaning back in his chair as he looked at the Canvas tab with “PARTNER PROJECT - GROUPING LIST,” reading your name as it was typed on the list next to his own.

“Yep, that’s me. Wanna get started now, or just bullshit and figure it out later?” You smiled, placing your laptop down on the desk next to him, pulling out the seat before sitting down. He smiled, putting his hands behind his head.

“What…are you not interested in 20th Century Russian Literature or somethin’?” He let out a laugh, watching you crinkle your nose in disdain.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t take you as a guy who was into Vladimir Mayakovsky...” You scoffed, opening your laptop to open a Google Doc, assuming you were about to be doing some work in the next half an hour left in this class. Smirking, Schlatt reached over, closing your laptop screen. 

“What the hell, dude?” You looked over at him, his smirk starting to piss you off. 

“You really thought we were going to work right now…? Be so serious..” He laughed, grabbing his bag before signalling you to follow him. You shook your head in disbelief, looking around. Most of the other people in class had left, your professor giving you time to head to the library with your partners to find the specific pieces of literature you were studying, so you assumed that's where you were heading. 

“Needed to get out of there…” He laughed, opening the door for you as the cool fall New York air pricked at your skin. You nodded your head, agreeing with his statement.

“So, to the library we go, then?” You asked, slinging your backpack on your shoulder, quickening your steps to keep up with his long, yet slow, strides. He let out a laugh, one that began to warm you in the pit of your stomach, filling you with butterflies. 

“Hell no…just didn’t want our professor to overhear us talkin’ shit on his class…gotta keep up that good grade, yknow?” He chuckled. Listening to him talking, you realized you had recognized his voice as the one person who spoke at least a little bit of Russian in the class, and managed to understand the stories in the language they were written in to discuss in class. Your eyes widened only slightly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You mean to tell me…you don’t actually like Russian literature? You speak Russian!” 

“Only bits and pieces, princess. Besides…it’s so fuckin’ boring. Learned Russian in high school because it sounded fun…thought if I took this elective course it would be the same. Clearly I was wrong because this is the stupidest fuckin’ class I’ve ever taken.” He groaned, your mind only able to focus on his usage of ‘princess,’ trying to hide the heat you could feel creeping across your cheeks. You hummed, nodding at him. 

“Honestly…I signed up for the wrong class. Thought I clicked on 20th Century American Literature, and not Russian…shouldn’t have scheduled my classes at 2 AM, I guess.” I said, laughing at the memory. I saw him begin to smile, shaking his head. 

“Got partnered with someone who often operates in delirium? God really must hate me..” He groaned, opening the door to the student union center, walking to a bustling common area. You knew you just met the guy, but he was already beginning to feel like a close friend, close enough that you took your hand and swatted him on the shoulder, giving him a disappointed look. 

“Hey! I’m not that bad, I don’t make all my decisions while delirious! Just…some of them.” You said, crossing your arms with a huff. Schlatt smiled, staring at you, an unfamiliar warm sensation filling his gut. It honestly made him kind of queasy, swallowing down…whatever it was with a shake of his head, moving on with the conversation at hand. Schlatt swore to himself that day that he would never let that feeling back into his body if he had any say about it.

“Hey…did you hear me?” You asked, snapping your fingers in front of his face, as Schlatt was shook back to reality, away from that distant memory. His spine chilled with the memory of your meeting, the familiar queasy feeling creeping back into his gut as he faced you. 

“Y-Yeah…I did. Thanks, toots. You’re not half bad yourself…” He felt the need to swallow imaginary bile down his throat as he choked out a sentence or two, not wanting to piss you off. He hated having these…feelings. Not used to them, he shook his head slightly, wanting to clear his mind. 

You frowned, hoping he wouldn’t see your upset in the darkness of the night. You rolled back onto your back, looking up at the stars once more, as if you were seeking an answer. Why was he being like this? Were you really such a bad person? Why couldn’t he open himself up to the possibility of more? 

He, too, returned his gaze to the night sky, asking his own series of questions to higher powers. Why was he feeling so…mushy? Was it worth it, to let down his guard and accept thoughts of…settling down? Why did he feel so nervous all of a sudden when he looked at you? Speaking of you…he glanced over, noting the obvious sadness in your face. Sighing, he pulled you closer to his chest, gently whispering in your hair. 

“It’s nothin’ against you, toots. Just…wasn’t expectin’ you to come out ‘n say that…” He mumbled, taking in the moment with you. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t keep yourself mad at him for too long, though your gut began to churn.

“It’s…it’s alright. We should be getting back to the cabin…it’s getting late, and I’m getting cold.” You said, sitting up. He sighed, following in suit standing up as he held out his hand, grabbing yours to help you stand up. Silently, he picked up the blanket, wrapped an arm around your shoulder, silently making your way back to the cabin. 

The air was tense when you walked in, a lot of unspoken words that were needing to be shared between you both…yet nothing happened. You both went your separate ways for the night, you doing your skincare routine, changing into more comfortable clothes, as you began to wander the cabin, hoping Schlatt would be out of whatever funk he was in, so you could talk.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, you saw Schlatt outside on the porch, leaning against the railings looking out into the night. You could tell by the look on his face he was still engulfed in his thoughts, so you decided to not instigate and rather cozy up in your room for the rest of the night. You got comfortable in your bed, turning on a bedside lamp as you pulled the book you were reading from out of your bag, deciding to get a chapter or two in before you inevitably fell asleep for the night. 

Outside, Schlatt sighed, bringing his hands up to his face, trying to rid himself of all of the…confusion and feelings he was currently having. He liked to live his life plain and simple–nothing with strings attached, really only ever relying on himself for anything he needed. Being alone was simple to him, he was able to get work done, live the life he needed to live, and he had the connections that were necessary to fulfill certain human needs, social and physical. Now, two years into this friends with benefits situation the two of you had created for yourself, he found himself stuck, these unfamiliar feelings occurring way too often recently, and he had noticed your change in demeanor, clearly wanting something more from the connection you were having. 

“I can’t keep fuckin’ doing this…” he grumbled to himself, resting his elbows on the railing below, looking up towards the sky. The last time he felt like this was when he met you in college, swallowing the feelings back then because he knew there was no way in fucking hell a person like you would like a guy like him. He was cocky, didn’t give two fucks what anyone thought about him, and, admittedly, didn’t take as much care of himself as he probably should’ve. He glanced down at himself, seeing the weight he had added on in an attempt to make himself less attractive to the people who were constantly thirsting over him online every day, shaking his head. Now that these feelings were bubbling back up about you, he began to feel the same way he did back then—trying to act self-assured, but really, deep down, he was insecure, thinking he wasn’t enough for you. He thought he heard the wooden floors inside the cabin creak, and in his attempt to not show any moment of weakness to you, he rolled his shoulders back, taking a deep breath before turning around. No one was there…he sighed. Shaking his head, he decided it would be best to head in for the night, maybe he could see if you were still up and apologize for the way he acted while you were star gazing. He really was an asshole at that moment, but it was completely unintentional. It was like his brain had shut off, unable to understand whether or not that statement was in a platonic way, or if you had meant more by it, and he was forced to go back to his factory settings of being a dickhead and pushing everyone away. He grumbled to himself, checking to make sure the fire would be plenty to keep you both warm for the night before heading up the stairs, looking for you. 

He walked into the room you had decided was his, first, seeing how you nicely placed his bag on his bed, having taken out his pajama shorts and a black t-shirt, knowing how he probably would’ve wanted to immediately change into something more comfortable when you came back from star gazing. He sighed, shaking his head. No matter how big of a dick he was towards you, you always showed him just how much you genuinely cared for him. He felt a pang of guilt surging through his body, knowing that you were probably still upset, sulking somewhere instead of enjoying one another’s company as was planned when you both first arrived. 

“Really do know how to fuck up a good thing, don’t I?” He whispered, leaving the room and heading to the one that he knew must’ve been yours. He saw a soft light seeping from under the door, thinking you were still awake he lightly tapped on the door.

“Toots? You still awake…?” He called out, tapping once more before deciding to open the door to peek in. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before, hell, his face, tongue, hands, and cock have thoroughly explored every part of your body, but he still didn’t want to intrude in your personal space. Taking a peek in, he sighed in relief, noting that you were asleep, book in your hand with the bedside lamp on. He shook his head, chuckling to himself about your position before walking in. He gently took the book out of your hands, gently placing your bookmark in the place you were at, as he knew from prior experience you would be exponentially pissed off at him if he messed with where you left off in your book. He watched you gently, wanting to see if you were stirring at all before gently shifting you into a more comfortable position as he pulled a blanket up over your body. He placed the book on your bedside table, shutting off the light before leaving the room, staying as silent as possible as he closed the door and went into his own room. He began to change, placing his bag on the ground before climbing into bed himself. 

“Fuck me…” He groaned, tossing over to lay on his side, “fuck these stupid feelins…shit’s not worth it..” his mind continued to race, bouncing between his vow to himself to never let himself slip up and have feelings for anyone, and the way his heart began to beat out of his chest the moment he met eyes with you. He still felt he was right in his beliefs, that having feelings did, indeed, make situations tougher to deal with, but he started to feel a sensation in his gut that was telling him just to give it a chance. It was…it was almost like butterflies, swirling around in his stomach, causing him to groan. He swallowed, before closing his eyes, hoping that exhaustion would kick in and cause him to forget about all these funny feelings in the morning. 

Light began to enter your room through the sheer curtains, causing you to begin to wake yourself up. You glanced around, not recalling getting into bed like this, and began to panic as you realized you had no idea where your book was. You quickly sat up, throwing around your blanket before turning to the bedside table, sighing as you saw your book placed gently on top. Looking at the way the bookmark was angled, the cute cat’s head meekly popping out above the pages, you knew exactly who did it…Schlatt. You sighed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before deciding to slip on your slippers and head out of the room. The fire must’ve burned out in the night, as the coolness of the cabin nipped at your arms, causing you to reach for one of the hoodies you had packed, pulling it over your head before leaving. You listened once you left your room, trying to hear if Schlatt was already up or not, ultimately deciding to peek into his room. You saw him tucked in his covers, slightly curled up, sleeping away. You smiled to yourself, the yearning in your chest telling you to join him making you sigh. Silently, you wished you could join him, curling up beside him, rubbing his sides to wake him. After last night though, you weren’t sure where things were between the two of you, so you shut his door gently, heading downstairs to begin making some breakfast before inevitably waking him up to get the fire going again.

 

Schlatt laid on the bed, wide awake, his thoughts not allowing him to get a proper night's worth of sleep. He heard the door open, saw the light come in, and silently wished you would come over and join him, hoping to smooth things over with you and reestablish boundaries. He wasn’t sure what those new boundaries would be, but he was hoping it would provide him with reasons not to further develop any more feelings for you, as he was already wildly out of his element with the feelings he was having. He quickly became disappointed, seeing you leave without saying a word. Upon opening the door, he began to feel just how cold the cabin had turned, giving him a chill. He knew sooner or later he would need to go downstairs not only needing to restart the fire, but also needing to talk to you. Groaning, he stood up from bed with a slight stretch, changing into a hoodie and some sweatpants–his shorts were definitely not going to be warm enough this morning when there was no fire in the heater. He braced himself, knowing he needed to get his thoughts in order before facing you. Rolling his shoulders back, he quietly left the comfort of his room and headed down the stairs. 

You quietly hummed to yourself, making up some eggs as the coffee finished brewing in the pot. You turned around to grab two mugs, anticipating Schlatt to join you rather soon, knowing the cold would get to him eventually as it was getting to you. Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs as your back was turned, your actions slowing so you didn’t have to turn and face him right away. 

“Mornin’ toots…lemme get that fire goin’ again.” He said quietly, slipping on his boots to check out the firewood.

“Mornin’, thanks.” You sweetly said, turning around to watch him slide his boots on and walk away, sighing. You began to make yours and his coffee, placing the mugs to the side as you then continued to being plating your breakfast. Grabbing his and your mugs, you shuffled into the living room, where Schlatt was loading firewood into the burner, beginning to kindle it with a firestarter. 

“I’ll make a mental note to tell Tucker the next time we see him that you used a fire starter in the heater.” You giggled, recalling Schlatt’s annoyance towards Tucker’s disdain over fire starters in a previous conversation, causing Schlatt to laugh before looking up at you. It was like the tension that hung heavily in the air between you had been lifted slightly, as you gestured his mug in your hand towards him. Taking the mug happily, he smiled, quickly thanking you before returning his attention back to the fire. 

“Sorry, didn’t feel like sittin’ here like a caveman while we’re freezing our asses off in here this morning.” He let out a light laugh, watching as the fire finally began to spread a little, the heat immediately doing wonders to the overall temperature of the cabin. You sighed, feeling a little more comfortable now that it was going, nodding my head in the direction of the kitchen. 

“C’mon, big guy. Made breakfast, just eggs and toast, though. I thought we packed bacon but apparently we never did.” You laughed, placing your mug down on the smaller two-seat table by the biggest bay window in the cabin before grabbing our plates, joining him there.

“What good is this when there’s no meat, toots?” He teased, shaking his head in your direction. 

“Hey! Don’t shoot the cook, made do with what the packer packed!” You teased back, knowing he was the one who put together a bag of food items for the two of you on our way out. He jokingly put his hands up in defense, causing both of you to laugh. The silence overtook quickly, as we both ate, avoiding the topic of last night all together. Silently, you wondered if there was any way we could just avoid the topic all together, go back to our lives the way they were, and somehow, some way, in some form get over your stupid crush on him all together. 

“So…sorry for bein’ such a dick last night.” He said, quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him. You sighed, the inevitable has struck. Let’s see where this goes…

“Don’t sweat it. I shouldn’t’ve put you on the spot like that.” He sighed, shaking his head. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong…I just wasn’t expectin’ it. That’s all…” It was your turn to let out a sigh, now. You knew he wasn’t really ready to start moving in the direction you wanted things to move in, but you still continued to push that line. Now, it’s made things awkward, and you truly regretted your actions. 

“I slipped up. I meant it and all…but I know you. Should’ve warmed you up to the compliment before just shoving it your way…it’s my fault.” 

“Hey, now…never said I didn’t enjoy it. Just threw me for a loop. We were supposed to be lookin’ at the stars, not one another.” He joked, making you smile. 

“Alright, I’ll give you that one. But…I couldn’t really help myself…” Your voice trailed off as your bottom lip went between your teeth. His eyebrow raised, and you could tell that he was using all his power not to just act. 

“Oh, really? Why’s that, sweetheart?” 

“Mmm…you’re very tempting, that’s all…” He let out a low growl, and needless to say the conversation was paused at this point, as he took you upstairs. 

The rest of your cabin weekend went rather smoothly. After making up with one another, things went quickly, and before you knew it you were back at your shared New York apartment, back to the daily grind. Back to the same old life you lived before, working all day, making love once or twice before going to bed in your separate rooms. You were sick of this cycle, needing more since the moment you briefly shared in the cabin. 

Schlatt was a mess mentally since the cabin weekend getaway, still conflicted in what he was feeling. The newly identified butterflies in his stomach constantly making him feel ill on a daily basis. He couldn’t even simply look at you before starting to feel sick, but he tried his best to tough it out so you wouldn’t catch on to his slow yearning. He began working later, sleeping with you just enough to make you think that things were fine between you, needing and using any excuse to stay a safe distance away from you in hopes that his thoughts and feelings would subside. He opened one of his desk drawers, pulling out the paper contract the two of you had made all those years ago. Sighing, he saw both your signatures scrawled on the bottom, the line above it reading ‘absolutely no falling in love, whatsoever!’

Fuck, man… he thought to himself, we’ve really fucked this whole deal over, haven’t we?

He was so lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t heard you open the door to his office behind him, with the intention of asking him whether or not he was joining you for dinner, or if he was busy working again. Seeing the contract in his hand, your breath got stuck in your throat. 

“What…what are you looking at that, for?” Your voice was just above a whisper, still causing him to jump.

“Fuck…” He groaned, putting the paper down on his desk, not turning to look at you. You walked in, leaning on the corner of his desk, looking down at him. 

“No…no. Tell me. What are you looking at that for, Schlatt?” You said, crossing your arms. It was about time the two of you finally talked about it all, but you were terrified of things that this conversation could cause, in turn. His lack of eye contact with you spoke volumes, the silence laying on your shoulders like a thousand bricks. 

“I…fuck.” He began to explain, finally looking towards you, shaking his head, “I needed a reminder. To remember where we started off at.” His head fell into his hands, looking back up to you after a moment before pushing his hair back through his fingers. You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical.

“A reminder, huh? Of what exactly?” 

“All of our agreed rules, what we expected from one another.” He sighed, trying his best to read your expression. 

“Why? Where is this coming from..?” You whispered, afraid he was catching on to just how badly you had caught feelings for him.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know, it’s all confusing.” He hesitated in continuing, making you think he was hinting at your feelings for him. You sighed, shaking your head, realizing this might be the only moment you have to confess before he changes his mind. 

“Alright, I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been…violating our contract. Might’ve developed some feelings…” He didn’t look at you as you confessed to him, lost in thought. 

“Earth to Jay..hello?” You started to get angry at his lack of response, “I understand you’re probably upset with me, but if we want this to work between us, we need to talk about it! Giving me the silent treatment and avoiding me isn’t going to do anything.” 

He was still rendered silent, your sudden confession catching him slightly off guard. Sure, he had his suspicions, but he didn’t expect you to just come out and say it. He started to feel that sick feeling making its way through his gut. You could barely make his face out, tears welling so strongly in your eyes. 

“Fuck you, dude…” You choked out, leaving him alone in his office. He groaned, realizing he had made this into a bigger issue than it needed to be because of his inability to formulate a response. Swallowing the bile making its way up his throat back down, he swiftly got out of his desk chair and followed after you. 

“(Y/N)...wait!” He said, seeing your bedroom door slam shut. He sighed, walking closer. He could hear you getting into your bed, light sobs coming from you. 

“(Y/N)...please. Open the door, we need to talk about this..”

“Should’ve thought about that earlier, asshole!” You croaked out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared at your ceiling. How could he? How could he do that, and then expect you to want to calmly sit down and talk through it all? You shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought, let alone give him the pleasure of thinking of him at all. 

“Fuck, I know! I know, I know I should’ve. I should’ve been thinking about all this a hell of a lot sooner!” His voice grew angry, his head leaning on the door with a thud. You laid silently, letting the tears fall as he continued. 

“You can’t just hide in there forever, toots…” He said softly, pleading to be let in. You continued to lay, wanting him to get a taste of his own medicine for once in his life. 

He hated the feeling in his gut, but he was so conflicted. His heart was telling him to confess, get over this bump in the road, and move on, trying this whole “love” thing for the first time in a long time. His head, though, told him the logical move was ending it all and becoming a recluse, the only thing he could trust to satisfy his sexual needs no strings attached was his own left hand. 

“Please, princess. Open the door.” You felt numbed, unable to move, in disbelief that this was even happening. 

“Why, so you can tell me we need to end things? That I ruined a perfectly good thing by letting my stupid feelings get in the way? So that you can hang this over my head, as proof that nothing good ever comes from having feelings of any kind for someone?” You said, beginning to let yourself get angry as you neared the door, slowly opening it. You weren’t prepared for what you saw—a red-eyed, tear-stained Schlatt, hands in his pockets looking defeated. 

“Not your feelings that are stupid, toots… it's mine.” 

[deepestnightcolor]

☾ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ɪᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ☽

ᴬ/ᴺ: Nobody has asked for this, but here is my take on what happens when Sam falls off his skateboard. This is my first attempt at this after a long time, please be kind. I hope whoever reads this can enjoy! Thank you for your time. ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam x Fem!Reader

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of injuries, oral sex (male receiving), face-fucking, deep-throating, sloppy blowjob, name calling, cursing, cum eating.

As harsh as it sounded, you wouldn’t expect any sense of balance or grace from your boyfriend Sam, a man that managed to trip over his own feet and run into every single piece of furniture in your house. But when he stepped on a skateboard, he managed to prove you wrong every single time. That man could absolutely move. Every time he stepped on a skateboard it seemed like all his clumsiness - that you certainly found adorable - had been left behind.

It was a warm day, it felt like summer was already in the air, approaching swiftly, Sam had asked you if you would like to watch the new tricks he had managed to master on his trusty old skateboard, which he adoringly called ‘Samsalot’. Even though the words he had used had been more like: “you gotta check this out, baby, pleaaaaase.”

And so you were sitting near the ramp Sam had built up himself using some wood you had lying around the farm, watching the blonde shine in his area of expertise as you liked to call it. Moments like this made you fall in love with him even more, though you wouldn’t have taught it possible. The way he moved just did something to you. He simply had such control over the situation, calculating his every move so confidently. “This is my favourite!” he suddenly called, ripping you from your thoughts and making your vision focus again. You watched Sam roll down the ramp, getting ready to jump and do another trick, when his left front wheel seemed to hit something, abruptly slowing him down. Sam, not expecting such a rough stop and the sudden force working against him, tried to scramble for an ounce of balance, but failed miserably. “Fuck!” was all you heard, followed by a thump and the sound of clothes scratching against wood as his body slid over the ground. “Sam!” You gasped, jumping to your feet, and rushing over to your boyfriend, who now seemed to kiss the ground. Sam was lying hurdled over on his knees, butt still in the air and eyes closed, still bracing himself from the impact. “Ow, what the fuck?” he snarled with a groan, opening his eyes slowly.  “Are you okay?” you lifted one of his arms from the ground, yet the man slowly shook his head, pushing himself up carefully to get into a sitting position. “Just a few scratches,” he murmured, blush on his face as rubbed over it, if to hide the red colour or to check for bruises, you didn’t know. “Fuck, that’s so embarrassing. If Sebastian saw that, it would already be uploaded on YouTube.” You cooed quietly, gripping your boyfriend’s hands, “don’t worry about it, love. I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all; it was an accident. You should’ve seen me when one of my cows pushed me in mud. I tried to get up, slipped and fell into the puddle again.” There was a brief smile on the man’s face, but it was gone in a flash. “Sam…are you sure you’re not hurt?” you already began to feel for bumps or cuts on his head and legs, causing him to blush yet again. “No…No, not really. It’s just…” You looked up at him, eyes quietly urging him to speak his mind. “It’s just…I enjoy impressing you. This is the only thing I can impress you with. The only thing I have real control over. And what do I do? I fuck it up and smack my fucking face into the fucking ground.” Biting your lip, you gripped his face, making him wince a little as your finger touched a small cut. You quickly removed your hand, making a mental note to clean that up quickly. “Oh, Sam. There’s so much you’re good at,” you mumbled, pressing your forehead against his, “playing the guitar for one. Writing songs.  Making people laugh. Loving me. Making our relationship what it is. You are good at being you. And by Yoba, do I love you.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, calming a little when you felt a small smile against the plush of them. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

You led Sam into the bathroom of your house, urging him to take off his pants, and sit on the edge of the bathtub so you could clean and bandage his cuts and scrapes. However, as you settled down on your knees and carefully began to run a wipes over the different wounds you found, you could see that Sam was still lost his head. He didn’t even do his dramatical whining whenever the disinfectant came in contact with his skin like he usually did. Placing your hands on his knees, you gave them a gentle squeeze. “Sam?” “It’s just… I don’t know. I hate losing control like that. It’s just embarrassing.”

You ran your fingers through his hair affectionately, pressing your head against his chest as his words sank in. And then, an idea began to form in your head. Tilting your head upwards, you blinked up at him slowly and seductively. “Do you think that I can kiss it better?” “What do you mean?” “You said you don’t like losing control,” you began, biting your lower lip and letting your hands run up his bare thighs to give him an idea of the thought that danced around in your head, “I know how you could regain at least some of it.” Sam shuddered at the feeling of your rough skin against his soft one, and this time, a bigger smile spread on his lips while he slowly nodded. “I think kissing it better could maybe, perhaps, work.” You chuckled to yourself and leaned up, kissing him gently, your hands still working on massaging his thighs. You gently let your fingernails run along the inside of them, getting a quivering breath as an answer. Being with Sam for as long as you had been, you knew what buttons you had to press to have him melt for you. You settled between his legs again, kissing up his thighs where your fingernails had left their marks, giving your man a blissful sigh. “You know how hot you are? The way you move,” you whispered against the fabric of his boxers that you had reached by now, his hips snapping upwards involuntarily as your hot breath soaked through the thin layer of clothing and met his throbbing cock, “the way you know what you’re doing… Not only when you skate, but also when you play guitar…and when you fuck me- Yoba, it’s hard for me to not fuck you whenever and wherever, Sam.”  He moaned quietly at your words, his left hand sinking into your hair and tugging you towards the tent in his underwear. Usually you would tease your boyfriend, push his buttons until pre-cum soaked his boxers, but today you followed his lead immediately, giving him the control he sought. You pulled down the fabric that restrained your boyfriend’s cock, the both of you moaning quietly as it snapped up against his stomach. You simply loved Sam’s dick; it was long and thick, the tip of it always red and wet for you the veins adorning his shaft adding to the look of it. But the feel of it… Whenever Sam entered your cunt, the feeling of being split in half and the feeling of only being able to stay alive with his cock bullying into you mixed, taking your breath away every single time. The idea made you moan yet again: “Fuck, your dick…just look at it…so perfect…always feels like it’s made just for me and me alone. Never had better,” you rasped, causing your boyfriend’s eager anticipation to grow in the pit of his stomach. His hand grasped your hair tighter, hips bucking up to press the tip of his length against your lips, his other hand wrapping around the base of his shaft to gain better guidance. He rubbed against your mouth, breathing laboured as his patience was running terribly thin already „Look at ya…all pretty ‚n‘ willing for me… Ready to choke on my cock, pretty baby? Bet you are,“ he grunted, pressing his leaking tip against you. „Good girl,” he praised when you opened your mouth willingly, low groan leaving his lips as he felt the wetness of your mouth wrap around him. Sam always was a slut for being sucked off by you; your mouth felt so heavenly, so wet…so addictive. You knew everything he wanted, down to the point how tight your lips had to wrap around you.  His hips bucked up again, and when you didn’t complain, Sam’s mind was gone. You trailed your tongue around the top, sucking at it while pulling your head back. The sound of Sam sucking in air through his teeth going straight to your clit. His hips legs were quivering, leading him to rest his feet against the ground more firmly, staring down at you. He had his lower lip drawn in-between his teeth, wrapping a thick strand of your hair around his closed fist.

You kept licking at him, sticking out your tongue and letting him rub himself all over it, which he eagerly did. He rutted his hips against your tongue as if he was in heat, desperate for the friction he was able to gain through the motion. He tasted so incredibly good, and the sounds he made caused your heart race in your chest. His whimpers were so high pitched, soaked with pure pleasure and lust for you. You loved it when Sam was loud for you, loved it when he enjoyed what you gave him. You relaxed your jaw and allowed him to re-enter your mouth, eyes focused on his pretty face. His brows were furrowed in concentration, tongue tracing over the top row of his teeth. „So…fuckin‘ good,“ he gasped,  allowing you to work his head over him with the guidance of his hand. However, he didn’t allow you controlling the pace for long before he started to move your head faster. “That- that’s my good…oh fuck, that’s my good girl.”  He absolutely adored the way you looked with your face stuffed with his dick; the way you had to work not to choke on him whenever he bucked his hips forward, he loved when your eyes started to fill with tears and how the drool ran down your chin. All because of him and his length. His head was reeling as he tried to regain at least some of his composure upon hearing your whimpers and seeing how much you struggled handling him, but his hips just didn’t stop. Quite the opposite. He fucked your mouth relentlessly now, head thrown back into his neck while he cursed under his ragged breath. “Who’s a good slut? You, that’s right. My lil whore…greedy for cock. Sucking me in so prettily. Look at your face, so full of dick.” He gasped for air when you sucked on him despite his thrusting, his thick girth throbbing against your tongue. He spread his legs wider, eyes squeezed shut and drool at the corner of his lips. Your tongue was pressed against his sloppy skin so beautifully, and the lewd sucking had his heart bursting. He couldn’t take this much longer, and he knew it. But he didn’t want this to stop. You were taking him so well, even though his thrusting became more desperate, more dire. Your mouth felt so wet, so sweet. Pre-cum and spit ran down his length, making the base all sloppy.

He gripped your head and shoved it towards the base of his cock with one swift motion, groaning at the vibrations that were sent through his length because of your choking. He whimpered, his dick thrusting at a fast speed, the embarrassment from before now long forgotten as his balls slapped against your chin. Tears had filled your eyes by now, but you kept sloppily sucking him, whimpering around his fat dick upo hearing him curse. The slapping of skin and the sloshing sounds coming from you made his whole body tense up. His balls were so tight, and he swore he saw stars spinning around the room.  “Fuck, babe, yes, yes, so good. Gonna cum, yeah? Gonna fill that pretty mouth with my cum,” he rambled, still bucking his hips against you, the tip hitting the back of your throat, but all Sam selfishly could think about was the orgasm he was chasing. He humped your face faster, your nose almost connecting to his pelvis bone, a small cry leaving his lips as his cum spilled in your mouth. The load was bigger than what you had anticipated yet there was no chance to pull away; Sam had both of his hands in your hair now, holding you down to empty his balls completely. He was drooling now, tongue sticking out as he panted. His dick twitched in your mouth, slowly growing soft and only then his hips began to stutter. “Yoba,” he hissed, after sucking a big breath into his lungs. His hands slowly dropping from your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to praise you.

You carefully pulled away, tears running down your face from straining your jaw and throat so much, bits of cum mixed with saliva dribbling down your reddened chin. You made a show of swallowing Sam’s cum, licking your lips and then pressing a gentle kiss to the well abused tip that had been bullying into you. “Better?” you asked, voice hoarse, smiling as he nodded slowly.

“All better.”

[redroses07]

The Rock Show // Finn Wolfhard

Finn Wolfhard x Fem!Reader

WC: 2k

Based on/lyrics from 'The Rock Show' By Blink-182

Warnings: Swearing, Kissing

Summary: Finn falls in love with a girl at one of his shows, but does she feel the same?

A/N: I know I said I'd post this last night but I didn't have time to make my last few edits. Anyways, It's out now! This is also based on one of my favorite songs (I'll link it below) so it was super fun to write! This is the first time I've written for Finn in a while so I hope y'all like it! -Claire ♡

You stand outside the concert venue with your friend. Her boyfriend was the drummer for some band that was playing tonight, and she was intent on you coming along.

“Maybe you’ll meet a cute guy.” She teased, an obnoxious smirk on her face.

“Yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes, elbowing her playfully.

It was a small indoor venue, yet the line was still wrapped around the building. Luckily your friend’s boyfriend could get you special access through the back door.

When you saw the flight of stairs leading up to the stage door, you immediately regretted the heels you were wearing.

You followed closely behind your friend, unsure of where to go.

“Y/N hurry up!” Your friend called to you from the top of the stairs. You thought about how much you envied her comfy tennis shoes.

She held up the pass her boyfriend had given her, opening the door with ease.

The inside was stuffy, and even though the show hadn’t started, you could still hear the sound of the crowd cheering.

ultraviolet lights littered the ceiling, giving the area a purple glow. You could see the curtains pulled over the stage, blocking the crowd's view.

You were careful to watch for the cords strewn across the floor, connecting electric guitars and other equipment.

As soon as your friend saw her boyfriend sitting at his drum set she ran up to him excitedly, leaving you standing awkwardly backstage. You didn’t mind her going to see him of course, but you didn’t technically know anyone else back there and were worried about being thrown out.

“Hey, are you playing tonight? I’ve never seen you here before.” A voice pulled you away from your thoughts.

You turned your head to see a tall boy with messy dark hair. He had a guitar slung over his shoulder, and a mic attached to his shirt, so he clearly was playing tonight.

He was cute.

“Oh, um, no-“ You stumbled over your words, forgetting how to speak for a moment.

“I’m here with her.” You managed to say, pointing at your friend.

The boy smiled kindly, once he saw who you were pointing to.

“Third wheeling I see?”

You scuffed your heels against the floor nervously.

“Yeah, she made me come. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing now though. And clearly I look out of place too.” You said half jokingly.

The boy wore a look of surprise, which changed into embarrassment.

“Oh no, no that’s not why I started talking to you, I actually just thought you were pretty.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

You felt your face get hot, and you found yourself unable to look him in the eye.

“Thank you.” You said, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Shit, sorry if that was too forward, what’s your name?”

You giggled, finding the courage to make eye contact again.

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Finn. Nice to meet you Y/N.”

You blushed, standing in awkward silence.

"What time do you go on?" You asked.

You wanted to make sure you didn't miss him playing.

"Around 11."

Maybe you would have to stay longer than you anticipated. Although, now you had something to look forward to, so maybe it wouldn't be half bad.

"I'll be there," you smiled.

Finn ran his hand through his hair, curls flopping over his face. He was quick to brush them away, keeping his eyes glued to you the whole time.

The background noise heightened, and you heard someone yell for all the players, no matter what time their sets started, to hurry up.

"Shit, I've gotta go...but you have good seats tonight right?" Finn asked.

"Yeah, right up front." Having a connection to one of the players did have its perks.

"Okay! Hold on a second!" Finn ran out of the room leaving you standing around awkwardly for a second time.

You peered through the door he ran through, eagerly waiting for him to come back. That is, if he was coming back at all. You were thoroughly confused and decided to lean back against the wall while you waited. Maybe you'd blend in better that way.

Finn came flying back around the corner, the guitar that was strapped around him swaying slightly.

"I couldn't find any paper, so is it okay if I write on your arm?" He held up a black sharpie, one of the big ones you'd use to write on posters with.

"Uh sure?" At this point you wondered if turning away was a better option, but nonetheless, you let him take your arm.

You watched as Finn frantically scribbled a few letters and numbers down on your arm. When he lets your arm go, you squinted at the messy black writing.

"That's the venue I'm playing at tomorrow. If you like what you see tonight, come tomorrow and I'll take you out afterwards."

You looked at your arm and smiled at the gesture.

"You know you could've just written it in my phone right?" You laughed.

"This is way cooler." Finn replied with a toothy grin.

"I really have to go now." He began to walk backwards towards the stage.

"Hopefully I'll be seeing you soon." Finn shot two finger guns at you before turning around and rushing off.

You were left alone once more, but you no longer felt awkward. You were too preoccupied with the butterflies in your stomach.

"Come on let's go- what's that?" Your friend asked, a suspicious smirk appeared on her face.

"I'll explain later."

You rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the hoard of people.

You surfed through the crowd, finally reaching the front of the pit below the stage. You were close enough to where you could reach up and touch the stage if you wanted.

You stayed in the same spot for most of the show, and time passed rather quickly. The music was enjoyable, but you had to admit that you were waiting for Finn to show up.

Finally, when the lights filled the room, signaling that another set was beginning, you saw him. He was standing center stage, guitar in one hand, microphone in the other.

You don't know how, but he managed to spot you among-st all the people. He winked in your direction, and you could feel your face light up.

Finn's singing voice definitely kept you interested, more than you had been all night. And if you weren't already convinced to go out with him, his guitar skills sealed the deal.

At the end of the night your friend called a cab, your feet hurt far too much to walk back to your apartment. During the ride you rambled to her about the cute boy you had met backstage, and how glad you were that you let her drag you along.

She argued that this gave her best friend bragging rights for at least a week. You scoffed, but agreed.

The minute you got home, you changed your clothes and crashed in your bed; already excited for the date you would surely be going on the next day.

From the moment you woke up, you were riddled with excitement. The show wasn't until late but you started getting ready around mid-day.

When the time finally came, you could feel the nerves coursing through your veins. But they were good nerves, as good as nerves could be of course.

You arrived at the venue alone, not the safest option but you were careful. You made your way up front about fifteen minutes before the show started so you didn't have to push through as many people.

The place was more like a club considering most of the attendees were standing and there were hardly any seats, save for the few in the back.

In what seemed like no time at all, the show began.

Finn was center stage yet again, and you could see him scanning the room. You hoped he was looking for you.

He had yet to spot you before starting the first song, which was an upbeat ballad. You bobbed your head along to the beat of the music, relaxing into the environment.

Finn's voice was like honey, each word flowing off of his lips beautifully.

Once the song was over, he approached the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming out here tonight." He scanned the room once more, but this time he did see you. His face lit up, just as it had the night before.

"This next song is a cover, and it reminds me a lot of someone I just recently met." His deep brown eyes never left yours.

He began to sing, a wide smile on his face as he did.

"I fell in love with a girl at the rock show, she said "what?" and I told her that I didn't know."

You smiled at the lyrics, surprised by how much you felt for this boy you had known no more than a day.

You let yourself float closer to the stage, still keeping your eyes on Finn. He was clearly focused on his guitar, playing through the riff before starting to sing again.

Finn noticed you standing below the stage and began to navigate towards you.

"And if I ever got another chance, I'd still ask her to dance. Because she kept me waiting."

He leaned down, knees hitting the floor. He continued to sing, doing everything he could to inch closer to you while he did.

You reached up, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him down further. Half of his body was hanging off of the stage, yet he still continued to sing.

"With the girl at the rock show..." His singing voice became breathy and strained.

The song ended and Finn pulled you up on stage with him. You could feel your heart beating with anticipation. Just like that, he pulled you into a messy kiss. The crowd erupted into applause, cheers, and even a few whistles could be heard. It was too brief for you to really enjoy the kiss, but it was perfect nonetheless.

When you broke apart, Finn leaned into you and whispered in your ear.

"Go wait backstage, I'll see you in a bit."

You smiled at him, and made the bold decision to kiss him on the cheek. The crowd cheered once more, and you took that as your queue to exit.

You sure would never forget tonight.

[deadpool15]

Unexpected Visitor P2.

Before I knew it, two men had just pushed me in the ground, hurting my stomach in the process causing me to scream out the first name that came to mind. “MANNY”.

Abruptly the phone call ended, I had never felt a sense of fear like this before. Not me for me though, my child. Right before Armando went to prison I wanted to tell him about the kid but too much was happening, a part of me wanting him to be involved in our life though the other part of me had to be logical and as much as it hurt, I had to let him go. Armando wasn’t the father but with the way our relationship was going he damm sure had no issue stepping up and showing me he could be.

We were huddled up and moved to another location before that fucking asshole received a call from a partner I’m guessing to move the hostages. Then we were planted in cars and boats apparently traveling to Cuba. “Are they gonna kill us?” I had completely forgotten Callie was here alongside us. I felt worse if anything, I couldn’t even reach out to hug her, I knew she needed comfort right now more than anything.

“No, sweetie we are going to be fine. Mike and Marcus are going to come for us. No one will hurt you ok?” Pushing myself closer to her to offer her a shoulder to lean on. Since, in this situation that’s all I could really do. “Look at you, mama bear giving her false hope. Already entering your mama phase and it hasn’t even started.” Looking at this asshole who had already pissed me off for yanking my locs. “It’s not false hope and last time I checked your boss gave you orders to not walk around speaking to me and my fucking family asshat. So, how about you do everyone a favor and check the perimeter, lord knows u could use the walk.”

He moves closer to push some of my hair back into place before caressing my cheekbones. I hurry and bit the shit outta his finger when he gets closer causing him to scream aloud and slap me. A gray haired man comes over to check the situation, head butting guy before sending him off to check the area leaving me. Christine sits there in tears worried for both me and Callie. Eventually, we hear noise from outside causing someone to yell out commands and we realize we are being moved. “Come on, ladies it’s your big day. Don’t let them outta your fucking sight, especially the feisty one.” Motioning towards me.

After a moment of waiting outside we notice something out of the ordinary and sadly so did our kidnappers causing one to grab my fucking hair again and push me back into this stupid gator park. Gunshots ringing straight through my ears causing pain. And then the man holding me falls, shot dead right in front of me. “O my fucking god, I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tears running down my face cloud my vision causing me to trip a couple of times trying to run away from the constant gunfire. Managing to untie the knot that had broken skin off my wrists, I immediately look for sight of Callie.

Crawling on the floor trying to find my 16-year old god daughter in the middle of an abandoned gator park is not something I thought I would be doing today. Finally, I look over and find Callie trying to run away from two men. Without a second thought, I run over towards here as fast as my body would let me. Grabbing ahold of her, causing her to shout not knowing the identity of who she believed was another attacker. “Callie, Callie stop it it’s me.” Holding onto the girl for dear life I check for any injuries. From the corner of my eye I see movement causing me to turn around while shoving Callie behind my back.

And right before I thought my life had came to an end. He appeared. Armando pushed us both behind him. Looking at me, while holding onto my arm not letting go. “Stay behind me. You gotta trust me.” Hearing those words hurt, made me realize how dangerous the situation was, maybe one of us wouldn’t make it. Fighting off a group of men while getting sliced up relentlessly, made me shriek in fear for the man I love. Grabbing Callie and pushing her towards the door as we try to run away a man pushed us back and Armando fight him off taking a knife to the shoulder. Leaving him on the ground in pain, I’m quick to grab him and try to pull him up. Before, I hear Callie scream.

Looking down all I saw was blood. Rushing down, but it wasn’t from Armando, it was me. My blood was pouring down. My vision started to become blurry and suddenly nothing was coherent. They were speaking but my brain couldn’t comprehend anything in that moment. Armando gathers his strength and looks at me, like a burst of adrenaline he shoots to quick while grabbing me with Callie’s help and moving towards the door. I soon feel us stop and look up and can make out a spec of what looks to be Armando’s face and his mouth is moving. “My baby, no..o the b-baby. Help.” And then everything fades. Trying to grab ahold of my stomach as a last resort to protect my son.

Armando

Sitting here facing off with Callie’s mom, while holding onto my girl. I watch my father and Callie plead for my life. “Go.. before I change my mind. Grabbing a hold of her I move with my father to find a boat. Before starting it up he looks at me, “Take this, head south. Don’t look back, and be good.” Smiling I look at him, thanking the world I got to know him. “That’s not your choice, detective.” Grabbing ahold of her and starting up the boat looking back at him, “take care of them.” With one last smile I nod and drive off. Seeing him for the last time.

2 weeks later…

“Manny, are you ready to watch the stars.” Hearing nothing my random little noises as my respond I smile. Grabbing ahold of my son I make my way to the patio to oversee the stars, “pretty right baby?” Hearing boots hitting the pavement I look up seeing Armando. “Ain’t got a thing on you, though baby.” Smiling while I watch him move closer to grab our son and play with him. Reminded how much I love him and our litter family. “What you thinking about, Girasol?” Pulling him closer for a kiss, staring into his eyes while running my nails through his hair. “Us, baby. Always about us.”

[random-writer-23]

Meet cute with lumberjack logan at a Christmas tree farm

Based heavily on the other day when I went Christmas tree shopping and got a big one with some real girth to it and the Christmas tree guy threw it over his shoulder with a big old smile on his face and carried it all the way to the car by himself and so I started writing this as SOON as I got home. I'm also probably gonna write this same idea but like an established relationship where the reader brings Logan lunch for his lunch break and sees him unloading and throwing around some trees and they freak in the car or something. I don't know what it is but I fear the idea of men carrying heavy things is just so attractive to me.

Warnings: Probably cheesy but idgaf, no smut for this one my darlings I'm sorry... but my next one is from a delicious request one of you beautiful people sent in and it's 😏 .

Very much unedited but I don't think there's any major mistakes, please lmk if I did

Also yes I know the formatting is weird, I don't know why it was double-spacing my paragraphs I tried to copy and paste the whole thing all at once but it kept saying "There's a 4096-text-characters-per-block limit." and then it wouldn't let me save it so I did my best with formating.

Word Count: 2k

It was usually a tradition that my best friend and I go tree hunting together, but due to her horrible boss calling them into work, finding a Christmas tree fell to me alone, and I was determined to find the perfect tree. Driving around to a few different major stores and finding nothing good, I decided to go to a local Christmas tree lot. Following the GPS on my phone, I turned onto this long dirt road leading to a small clearing in an area of trees. A large sign and blow-up Santa is standing at the entrance of the parking lot greeting me. I gnaw on my bottom lip watching a family walking back to the car, the dad grunting as he carries the tree, two kids running around his legs excitedly. I smile at the sight before looking away my eyes roving the parking lot for an empty spot. Finally finding one I pull into the parking spot, putting the car in park and grabbing my purse. Climbing out of the car my phone starts ringing in my back pocket, I pull it out, the contact photo of my best friend's face flashing across the screen, and I swipe my thumb across the screen raising it up to my ear.

“Hello?” I chirp, locking my car and making my way to the tree lot.

“Hey did you get the tree yet?” She asks, the keys of her computer keyboard clicking in the background.

“No not yet, I’m at the fourth tree lot today decided to go to a local one” I shrug, entering the lot my eyes greeted by the quiet chattering of children, the smell of fresh pine needles wafting through the air.

“A local tree farm? They’ll probably be a bit more expensive than the other trees we looked at” She murmurs

“Yeah but these look fresher” I chuckle brushing my hands over the branches my fingers coming away damp with water droplets.

“Alright fair enough, just pick a good one” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Oh shit, okay gotta go managers coming” She whispers hastily ending the call. I let out a quiet laugh, making my way through the thick brush of taller trees, looking for where they keep the smaller ones. Kids race past me shouting after each other, their tired parents following along behind them, desperately trying to corral their kids. I keep walking along scooting between the trees until I get to a small area near the back of the tree farm, the shorter trees being kept underneath a red and white striped canopy.

“Here we are” I mumble softly to myself weaving between the trees, circling them slowly admiring them trying to find the best one.

“There something I can help you with Sweetheart?” A gruff voice speaks up from behind me making me jump slightly. The smell of pine needles mixed with a rough earthy cologne becoming stronger as I feel the stranger's presence move in close behind me “Sorry didn’t mean to scare ya” The voice chuckles a deep rumbling sound in his chest, I turn around coming face to chest with what I think is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I tilt my head up slightly letting my eyes settle on his face, the way his thick beard is peppering, hairs of white sprinkled throughout the brown. I peel my eyes away from his gorgeous life-roughened face, and charming smile letting them roam his figure. Taking in the way his plaid shirt is tucked nicely into his jeans, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the fabric hugging tight to his arms the muscles in his arms flexing as he crosses them over his chest, His broad shoulders and bulging arms make him seem more closely related to a wall than a man.

“Oh it’s alright, I just didn’t see you coming” I chuckle lightly putting my hand over my chest to try and calm my racing heart. “Well, I’m looking for a tree” I smile up at him squashing down the bundle of nerves in my stomach. He glances around at the trees surrounding us.

“I figured that much” he says teasingly, and I feel an embarrassed heat spread up my neck.

“Oh, well I guess that's obvious” I chuckle, and he nods.

“What kind are you interested in? We’ve got some pine, firs, spruce…” He points to various trees and my eyes widen slightly.

“I didn’t realize there were so many kinds,” I say softly, looking at the trees he pointed at rattling their names off the top of his head.

“psh, oh yeah, We’ve got tons of different kinds, gets a little overwhelming at times” He smiles down at me and my heart stutters in my chest. “I didn’t even introduce myself, I’m Logan, and ’ll be happy to help you pick out the perfect one” he grins holding out his hand for me to shake, I look down at his hand noticing no wedding ring, much to my delight. I reach out shaking his hand, which easily envelops mine. His hand is rough from the work of a blue-collar job, and I briefly wonder what else his hands can do. I quickly squash the thought returning my attention to his introduction.

“Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/n)” I say cringing as my voice comes out a breathless whisper.

“so let's see first how tall are your ceilings,” He asks slowly pulling his hand away from mine, resting them on his hips adjusting his belt, glancing out at the sea of trees in front of us.

“Oh shit um I don’t know” I shrug nervously, “average height I think?” I smile a little as he nods.

“It’s alright if you don’t know, most people don’t” He chuckles, and I let out a breath letting myself loosen up in his presence. “Let’s get you over to the shorter trees just to be safe” He smiles resting his hand gently on my shoulder and leading me to the shorter trees, I tense up under his touch, the warmth of his touch sending butterflies exploding in my stomach “Now.. these over here are the 7-foot trees, they’ll be the best size for rooms with average ceiling height” I nod along to his words, “now let's see what kind of tree we can get cha” He murmurs taking a step back eying me up and down in a way that makes my pulse race and my cheeks heat up “You look like a classy kind of gal, so let's get you a classy kind of tree” He points to the back corner of the tree tent, where a group of similar looking trees are displayed. “Douglas fir, Classic tree for a classic kind of girl” he takes a few steps towards the group of trees, his hand falling to rest in the dip of my back, pushing me gently towards the trees.

“Oh these are nice” I smile taking a look at the trees, pine needles a rich dark green, still damp from when they were last watered.

“Oh yeah, nice pine smell sure to make your house smell like a forest,” He says launching into what I assume is his usual selling script, giving a deep inhale, I copy him getting a big whiff of not just the pine trees around me but the smell of Logan’s cologne as well. “Strong branches too, they’ll hold even your heaviest ornaments,” He says removing his hand from my back and standing next to one of the trees, my eyes widen as I realize the tree is only a little bit taller than the hulking man in front of me. “Yeah look at her perfect, nice and tall at the top for your tree topper, no empty spots you’ll have to hide with lights and ornaments or turn to face the wall to hide from visitors” He says examining the tree next to him.

“Laying on the salesman charm a little thick aren’t you” I tease lightly, and he freezes in his steps.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” He crosses his arms over his chest and I’m sure he notices the way my eyes follow the movements, as he subtly flexes the muscles in his arms. “I just really like trees” he shrugs cracking a smile. “Besides I’ve gotta make sure the prettiest customer here finds the perfect tree” His voice lowers huskily, and I turn away under the pretense of admiring the tree to hide the smile that creeps on my face, forcing myself to relax. He’s just trying to sell me a tree, he’s not flirting. I scold myself mentally, pretending to eye up the tree. “So what do you think?” He asks with the same husky tone. “Pretty handsome tree huh?” My eyes flicker back to him briefly as I nod.

“Yeah it’s a pretty good tree” I murmur clearing my throat and looking back at the tree he’d picked out for me. he grins at my words.

“I’ll take it” I smile, and he nods.

“Sounds good” He smiles reaching up and pulling the tag off the tree. He walks me over to a tent set up in the middle of the tree lot where an older man is standing behind the counter muttering curses under his breath as he fumbles with some twine. “Hey Gary, this pretty little lady here is gonna buy one of our Douglas” Logan says throwing me a wink, and I reach my hand up hiding my smile as Gary rolls his eyes.

“Then go get the tree” Gary grunts snatching the tag from Logan's hand and scanning it, I look at Logan and he shrugs giving me a small wave before retreating in the direction where my tree is. Gary grumbles under his breath before telling me the price of the tree taking my card from my outstretched hand, he swipes it and I hear Logan's loud grunts in the distance as he walks into view carrying the tree towards the netting machine. He lays it down on the machine trunk first pushing it through, the netting wrapping tight to the tree folding up the branches and pulling them close to the trunk of the tree. He pulls the wrapped-up tree out the other end of the machine laying it up against the side of the machine. “So you got someone around here to help you get this to the car?” Gary asks, and I see Logan's head swivel to face us, his eyes sparkling with what looks like interest. “Well?” Gary grumbles impatiently.

“Well uh no” I say softly, my eyebrow furrowing, “my friend was supposed to come with me to get the tree but she had to work” I explain chuckling awkwardly at Gary's stern look.

“Hmm,” He grunts, snapping his fingers, “Logan!” He barks and Logan makes his way over to us. “Take her tree to the car for her” he huffs, and Logan gives him a playful salute walking to the netting machine, bending down and throwing my tree over his shoulder with a few coarse grunts. My eyes widen as he hoists the tree up onto his shoulder standing up straight, the muscles in his arms flexing as he holds onto the tree. My eyes eagerly follow his movements as he comes towards me.

“Where too?” He grunts, barely struggling under the weight of the tree.

“Oh uh, my cars that way” I say softly, and he nods leading the way in the direction that I pointed to, and I trail along behind him watching him carry the tree to my car. I speed up catching up to him. “That one over there” I say pointing to my car.

“Got it” He grunts lowly, changing direction slightly till he’s walking directly towards my car. I run ahead unlocking it and opening the driver's door leaning in and dropping my purse in the passenger seat, exchanging it for the ropes and blanket I’d brought with me to tie the tree to the roof of the car. I turn the car on rolling down the windows slightly. I take the ropes and blanket over to where Logan is waiting, keeping the tree standing next to him. I throw the blanket over the car so the tree won’t scratch my paint.

“Ready?” He asks and I nod.

“Yeah!” I chirp and on my signal he lifts the tree back onto his shoulder, grunting as he raises it off his shoulder sliding it on the top of my car. He sets it down on my roof with little struggle. I find my mind wandering to what else he could lift with those arms, but I force myself to focus as he speaks.

“There we go” He pants slightly breathless from throwing the tree on top of my car. He lifts his shirt untucking it to wipe the sweat off his face and I get a glimpse of the skin underneath. A little drool trickles out my mouth at the sight of his tight abs glistening with sweat, a course happy trail of hair disappearing down under the waistline of his jeans. I quickly turn my head reminding myself it’s improper to gawk at strangers, only looking back at him when he speaks up again. “Toss me some rope” He murmurs and I obey quickly, he makes quick work winding the ropes through the open windows, tying the tree securely to my car roof. He tugs on the rope ensuring they’re secure. He dusts off his hands, turning away from my car to look at me. “So you got someone at home to help you get this thing in the house?” He asks his arm resting atop my car casually. I check the time on my phone, and I shrug.

“I think my friend should be home soon, between the two of us we should be able to get it in the house alright” I tuck my phone back into my back pocket, and he nods.

“Just you and your friend huh? No boyfriend to help you?” He says the implication of his words not lost on me.

“Nope… just my friend and I,” I say smiling up at him.

“Well a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting” He shrugs casually, “I’m off in about an hour if you want some help taking it in,” He says slowly his fingers tapping rhythmically on the roof of my car.

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you” I giggle softly hiding the smile on my face.

“No no I insist, customer service is my top priority” He chuckles.

“Well, I suppose if you insist” I giggle softly, and he holds his palm out for my phone. “I’d appreciate any help I can get” I pass him my phone and he takes it brushing his fingers against mine, I watch him type his number into my phone and then call his own, the low buzzing in his pocket signalling the call went through.

“Alright I’ll let you know when I’m off” He grins standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets, I nod almost too eagerly.

“Okay sounds good” I grin.

“And well, maybe after we take care of your tree, you’d be interested in completing a customer service survey… say over dinner,” He asks, and a bright smile crosses my face.

“Dinner?” I ask hesitantly.

“Oh yeah just to make sure I provided the best service I could” He says teasingly.

“Oh of course, well in that case, dinner sounds great” I grin, and he lets out what looks like a sigh of relief.

“Alright, I’ll uh give you a call later” He grins, turning around as he hears Gary calling for him in the distance.

“I’ll be waiting” I giggle waving at his retreating figure, one he’s out of the side I climb in the car and call my friend.

“Hey, you get the tree?” She asks.

“Fuck the tree I got a date!” I squeal and she gasps.

“Tell me everything!” She laughs, and I launch into my story, starting the car and pulling out the tree lot.

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[7ndipity]

“Like Crazy”

Jimin x Idol Reader

Summary: Jimin asks you to fill in as his dance partner for a Like Crazy performance

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Ok, let's take five and then we’ll go again!” The choreographer called.

Gratefully, you slumped down to the floor, letting your head rest against the wall as you took a few deep breaths. Comebacks were always exhausting, but this new choreo you’d been working on was really kicking your butt.

Letting your eyes fall shut, you made a mental note to try and make the next single be something slower, only to be jolted out of your train of thought by the sound of your phone.

Quickly digging it out of your bag, you couldn’t help the small grin that crept across your face as you read the caller ID. “💖Chimmy💖”

“Hey you.” You answered.

“Hey, uh, I have a huge favor to ask, and I need you to not hate me.” Jimin said quickly, sounding stressed.

“I would never hate you.” You replied.

“Would you be my dance partner?”

“What?” You blinked.

“Jinsol’s sick, and we need someone to fill in for this weekend's performance.” He explained. “I know it’s short notice, and you’re doing promotions right now too, but you’re one of the only other people who already knows the choreo.”

“Would the company be okay with us doing that?” You asked. Although it wasn’t a secret that you and Jimin were ‘close’, the exact status of your relationship was, and you knew that performing like this would inevitably stir up rumors.

“They said they could make it work, if you agreed.”

You considered it for a moment before speaking again. “Which days would you need me to cover?” You asked.

“Just Saturday.”

You sat up a little straighter. “Jimin… That’s Music Bank.” You said, stating the obvious.

“I know.”

“I’m also performing on Music Bank?”

“I know.” He repeated. “You can say no, it’s totally okay, I just had the thought-”

“No, I’ll do it.” You said quickly. The chance to actually perform with your boyfriend was not one you were keen on passing up, however sudden and hectic it might be.

“You will?!” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, sure.” You replied. “The managers will probably hate it, But what the hell?”

“Ah, Y/n, thank you!!” He cried through the phone. “I’ll find a way to pay you back for this, I promise!”

“You better,” You giggled at his enthusiasm. “I’m risking the wrath of army here.”

“They’ll behave, don’t worry.” He said. “I gotta go and update everyone, I’ll call you again later. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You replied, hanging up and taking another deep breath.

Well, this weekend just got more interesting…

The next two days were filled with ducking between rehearsals, wanting to make sure you had the choreo for ‘Like Crazy’ down perfectly. Jimin had taught you the main portion of the dance a couple months ago as he was getting ready for promotions, but you still had to get the hang of dancing with the group for the other sections.

Now, as you were weaving through the crowded backstage area to catch up with the rest of Jimin's team and quickly change outfits, you were beginning to feel the pre-show nerves settling in, despite having just finished your own performance.

As soon as Jimin caught sight of you, he tackled you in a tight hug.

“You did amazing out there!” He said excitedly, giving you a squeeze before releasing you.

“You watched?”

“Of course I did!” He said, cocking his head at you. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t support my amazingly talented partner?”

Before you could come up with a retort, you were all being called to the stage. You and the others watched from the side as Jimin went out and greeted the crowd, thanking them all for coming and expressing how he hoped they would like the performance.

As the lights went down and you and the other dancers moved to your places, you heard a couple surprised shouts of your name, making you bite back a grin as you glanced back at Jimin. He shot you a quick smile and thumbs up before turning away.

As the music started, you took a deep breath, your earlier jitters quickly dissolving as you let everything else fade away, focusing only on following the others and Jimin.

When you reached the solo part of the song that was just you and Jimin, you had to bite back another smile as the two of you made eye contact as he sang, sending him a quick wink before you spun behind him, hearing the slightest waver in his voice as he fought back a laugh.

The rest of the dance went smoothly, and almost too soon, you were back in the starting position as the final notes of the song faded out, only to be immediately replaced by the crowd’s thunderous cheers.

Everyone quickly ducked off stage and headed back to the dressing rooms in flurry, you and a couple of the other dancers talking and complementing each other on the performance. After a few minutes, Jimin managed to pull you off to the side, pressing a quick, enthusiastic kiss to your lips.

“Thank you so much.” He whispered.

“You’re welcome.” You said. “Although, you know you’re gonna get in trouble for making moves on your dancers like this.”

“I can’t help it,” He whined. “You were too cute out there.”

“Do you think the fans liked it?”

“I hope so, I know I did.” He said.

“I’ve noticed.” You giggled as he tried to kiss you again, only to be interrupted by the sound of your names being called as your teams tried to find you.

He groaned. “We’d better go. Can I come over later?” He asked.

“You better, you still owe me payment for today, remember?” You teased.

“I’ll have to come up with something really good.” He grinned before slipping out the door ahead of you.

“Can’t wait.”

[emsdevs]

Noah and Mateo 3: Brotherly Bonding

a/n: I have no specific timeline I want to follow for this AU, so here's a little glimpse into Noah and Mateo's relationship with Jack and Luke

masterlist | Oh Darling AU Masterlist

Nico hated to admit it, but Jack and Luke Hughes were some of his sons’ favorite people. Did he fully trust the two of them to babysit his six-year-olds? No, not really. However, he knows his sons love them both, and honestly, Nico loves them too. As much as you like to pretend they’re a nuisance to you, you love them as well, if nothing else than for how well they treat your babies. 

Right now, you and Nico are waiting for them to arrive at your place. The boys had asked for a “big boy” room, so you were going to let Jack and Luke keep Noah and Mateo busy while the two of you got to work on their room. It was hard to miss when they arrived. Jack had a key to your apartment in case of emergencies, so when he and Luke waltzed in, you could hear Noah and Mateo’s excited screams from your spot in the kitchen. You and Nico shared a smile before setting your coffees down and heading toward the living area. 

“Okay boys, you’ve gotta be good for Jack and Luke so Papa and I can get your new room ready,” you’re acting serious, but the twins aren’t paying enough attention to notice, too excited about their guests for the day. After going a moment without an answer, you laugh a little before grabbing your husband’s hand and beginning to make your way to the boys’ bedroom. You stop when you feel a little tug on your shirt.

“We’ll be good, Mama. Promise,” Noah is looking at you with the biggest smile he can manage and speaking in a tone so soft it tugs at your heartstrings.

“Thank you, baby.” He runs off to play with Luke after that, the older pair of brothers giving you and Nico reassuring smiles.

————————————————————————

Nico had already gotten rid of anything old you weren’t planning on using, and any boxes filled with new items had already been moved into the room. Everything was ready for you two to get started. Nico had taken on the task of building the two bookshelves you were adding to the room while you began to work on the wall decor. Their beds had been pushed against the wall on either side of the room, the headboard leaning against the adjacent wall. You had painted big letters their favorite colors to use to spell out their names above their beds, red for Mateo and green for Noah. You got to work hanging the correct letters about Noah’s bed, the only background noise being the sounds of Nico grumbling to himself behind you and muffled giggles from the living room.

In the living room, a massive fort was in the middle of construction. Jack and Mateo were in charge of the structure while Noah and Luke were loading down the inside with everything they could possibly need. While Mateo handed Jack couch cushions to make the fort bigger, Noah was telling Luke what to write on their list of necessities. 

“Lukey, Lukey, we need snacks or we’ll starve,” Noah is adamant.

“You’re so right, bud. Snacks are first on the list. What else do we need?” Luke is ready to do whatever the boy tells him. 

“Ummm, oh! Mama set our toy box in the hallway. We can get our Nerf guns out of it!” Noah is talking a little louder now that he’s excited, not to mention Luke just has some kind of connection with him that brings Noah out of his shell whenever he’s around. 

“Okay but me and Jack will have to grab those because your Mama and Papa want your room to be a surprise for you and Mateo, alright?”

“That’s fine, Lukey. Oh! Oh! Can you guys also get our mini sticks from the toy box?”

“I don’t think we have room for mini sticks in the fort, buddy,” Luke chuckles.

“Well, we can play mini sticks outside the fort. Duh,” the young boy rolls his eyes, and Luke can’t even be mad, happy to see a sliver of Noah’s personality shining through.

————————————————————————

“Is it just me or are they being suspiciously quiet in there?” you asked your husband. You hadn’t heard anything since you saw Jack and Luke rustling around in the boys’ toy box fifteen minutes ago.

“You worry too much, Ängeli,” you feel his arms wrap around you and his chin rest on your shoulder. You two had been moving quickly. Nico already had the new furniture put together and was now helping you decorate. The two of you had just finished making the twins’ beds. Nico, the competitor that he is, had to make it a contest to see who would get done first. You, of course, won.

“You’re just saying that because you enjoy the alone time,” you giggle, turning to face him before laying your arms over his shoulders.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he just looks guilty when he says it, but the way he’s smiling at you makes you not want to point it out.

“They’re growing up on us, Neeks. I mean a big boy room,” you hated to see your babies getting older.

“I mean you know my suggestion,” he winks, and you can’t be sure he’s entirely joking. For now, though, you’ll pretend he is.

“Oh ha ha. You know-” your cut off by loud laughter coming from the living room. The next second, you register a sound that you could recognize in your sleep: mini sticks.

“Let’s just hope they don’t break anything,” Nico sighs, more concerned about his teammates breaking something than his sons.

Once again, you and Nico began working together to get the room finished as soon as possible, slightly worried about the state you’ll find your living room in. Nico places the curtains on the windows, and you lay out the most perfect rug you could have found. It was made to look like the ice in New Jersey’s rink at Prudential Center (Etsy is now your best friend). Finally, you were both placing the finishing touches, putting everything in its place. Nico, of course, added some Devils memorabilia and trinkets from Switzerland. All that was left was to bring their toy chest and similar items back in.

————————————————————————

The boys had all given up on the mini sticks game, deciding a Nerf war was a better option. Jack and Mateo were hiding behind the couch, trying to figure out where Noah and Luke had gone. The fort was blocking their view, so they had to come up with a game plan. 

“Okay, little man, you go that way, and I’ll go this way,” Jack pointed in each direction as he spoke. “Divide and conquer, right?”

“Right!” Mateo nearly shouted, already moving before Jack could tell him to keep his voice down. Jack turned, ready to follow his right, when he found himself cornered by Noah and Luke. He started to raise his hands in surrender when he noticed Mateo behind the other two boys. Mateo laughed, letting Noah and Luke know they were also trapped. Just when Jack thought he’d beat Luke, Noah and Mateo shared a look and silently made a decision. In the blink of an eye, they both turn their weapon to their previous partners before firing off as many shots as possible. 

This was right around the time you and Nico were making your way to the living room to get the boys, hearing shouts and pleas of mercy from the Hughes brothers. You shoot Nico a look out of the corner of your eye as you both begin walking faster. The scene you walk in on is truly something that belongs posted on a wall somewhere. Your boys had Jack and Luke sitting back to back on the floor. Both Noah and Mateo had their weapons of choice pointed in the other brothers’ direction.

“Chliine, I thought you two were gonna be good for Jack and Luke,” Nico fails to sound stern through the laugh he’s attempting to hold in. 

“They started it, Papa,” Mateo put on his most innocent face, Jack and Luke letting out simultaneous gasps at the accusation.

“Sure, they did, baby. C’mon. You two wanna see your new room?” You held out your hand, knowing Noah would be the one to take it. You and Nico led all four boys to their room, letting the twins open the door and go inside first. They let out excited giggles before running around to look at every new detail. You share a happy look with Nico, leaning your head on his shoulder while you both watch your pride and joy running around like chickens with their heads cut off. 

“We’ll get out of your guys’ hair,” Jack says rather quietly to you and Nico. Noah and Mateo cut in before you can even say anything.

“Papa, you can’t let Jacky and Lukey leave!” Mateo was once again close to shouting.

“Yeah, Mama, we’re not done playing yet,” Noah uses a much softer voice.

“Looks like you two are staying for dinner,” Nico shrugs, and it relieves the twins enough that they return to exploring their new room.

“Besides, you two have to help clean up that fort you helped build in the living room,” you smile as you say it, knowing the brothers thought they’d get out of it.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Luke sighs, Jack mumbling something about needing an exemption because of emotional stress.

[alpaca-clouds]

Rural Living vs Capitalism

Something I find rather funny is this one thing that somehow left wing and right wing people will agree on: They kinda hate farmers and their protests and them wanting living wages - just for different reasons. Like, sure, there is a certain group of right wing traditionalists who idealize farmers, but pretty much everyone else just is angry with them in one way or another.

Among left wingers I usually make myself unpopular by looking at farmer protests and go: "Yeah, well, actually they are right?" Because most of the times the protesting farmers are the smaller and middle sized farms, who get fucked over by the big coorporate farms. And that is an issue. It is among the issues they are protesting about.

And this is a general thing when it comes to the rural communities.

See, a lot of times left wing people tend to be rather suspicious of rural folks, having this idea that everyone in rural areas is super conservative - not to say racist, misogynist and queerphobic. And... Like, we know that statistically speaking a lot more people with "conservative" ideas (if not outright rightwing) live in the rural areas, which has to do with folks in those areas generally being older. And if younger families move into rural areas, they often are better off and hence statistically also more likely to be right-leaning at the very least.

However, the fact is that nobody gets quite as fucked over by capitalism as people in the rural areas are - both farmers and people just living there. And there are always people living in rural areas for the other reason people might move there: The fact that living in rural areas is on the surface a lot cheaper. Homes are cheaper there at the very least.

But that is where it starts. Because rural folks get fucked over in so many way. Generally there is the fact that a lot of other stuff is more expensive in the rural areas. Often amenities might be more expensive. You want fast internet? Lol good luck finding someone offering it. The internet cables lying in your village are probably like 15 years old. You remember ISDN? You wanna go shopping? Well, you gotta drive 30-60 minutes to the next supermarket. Need new clothes? Well, it is a two hour drive now. Also, the supermarket might be more expensive than the one in the city. You cannot drive a car for some reason? Well, we have a bus that comes two times a day, if you miss it, you are fucked. The next train station is like an hour away. Mostly because for "small" rural communities it is just not payign under capitalism to put all those things into the villages. A big supermarket? Does not make enough money there. Fast internet? Costs too much to put down there. The same with everything else. And thus... Because capitalist companies want to make a profit, a lot of stuff is not available in rural areas. In the worst cases this leads to food deserts - large areas where no supermarkets and ways to get food (other than fast food joints) are avaialble.

Oh, and schools? At times the next school might be more than an hour away as well.

And if you are a farmer? Well, if you are a small farmer you are fucked as well. Because no way in hell are you able to work your farm as efficiently as a coorporate farm management company is able to, who underpay the farmers working for them. Those companies can afford for giant automated systems, too, that take care of a lot of the stuff. Things that a lot of smaller farmers just cannot pay for or need to go into dept for.

So, in so many ways... Yeah, people in rural areas get fucked over again and again. Both people living there - and the farmers. And... Well, yeah. Of course because in the rural areas people tend to be a lot more conservative - but in the end they might be fucked over more than anyone else by capitalism. And due to the lack of basically everything around them, they often lack access to the information of how and why they are fucked over.

Which is not to say, that there are not left wing organizations active in rural areas. And some people there start to see how they get fucked over.

But I just wished for left wing people to also realize that this really is a big issue. And have some sympathy for those people.

[kryptokent]

clark kent (smallville) x male reader

before clark meets up with you for a coffee date, his mother makes an unusual discovery in the laundry basket.

warnings/content: lead up to smut but fade to black, established relationship, you know about his powers, bisexual clark :3

word count: 1.7k

also on ao3!

dinosaur boxers

“Hm,” Martha murmurs, rifling through the laundry basket and grabbing at an item. “I’ve never seen these before.”

“What is it, Martha?” Jonathan asks, peering over that morning’s newspaper. 

She turns around and holds up a pair of boxers. “These aren’t yours, are they?”

Jonathan raises an eyebrow at the design. “No. Must be Clark’s.” He shakes his head with a huff of laughter and turns back to the newspaper. “Although I can’t imagine him wearing that.”

“I dunno. I didn’t buy these for him.”

Chuckling to himself, Jonathan folds the paper and places it on the table, standing up to make his way over to her. “Martha, Clark is 18. I’m sure he’s old enough to buy his own underwear by now.”

“Well, yeah, but he…” She starts, trailing off. Instead, she gives him an embarrassed smile. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“When am I ever wrong?” He smirks, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Making his way back to the kitchen table, he grabs his jacket and shrugs it on. “Speaking of Clark, where is that–”

“You were speaking about me?” Clark asks, bounding down the stairs with a grin. “Good things, I hope.”

“We were just talking about this mystery underwear your mom found.”

Clark tilts his head and turns to his mother, the smile slipping off his face immediately at the sight. She waves the boxers, still holding them in front of her chest, and asks, “These yours?”

“Uh, y-yes,” Clark manages to get out through a cough. Martha’s eyebrows knit together and Jonathan turns back to face him with his eyebrows reaching his hairline. Clark clears his throat and smiles again. “Yes. Of course they’re mine, mom, who else’s would they be?”

She takes that as an acceptable answer and shrugs, dropping them back into the basket. “Just didn't think dinosaur-themed boxers were your thing.”

His face heats up. “Trying something new. Anyways, gotta go.” He’s out the door before anyone else can say anything.

Staring at the door in confusion, Jonathan shakes his head. “That was weird, wasn’t it?”

“Definitely. Think he’s hiding something?”

He thinks for a moment. “That he really likes dinosaurs.”

Outside, Clark takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. That was close, he thinks, before shooting off toward the Talon. He comes to a stop at the back alley, glancing around to make sure no one's nearby to notice him, and makes his way to the front of the building. To his surprise, you’re already standing at the corner behind a dumpster and he almost jumps out of his skin.

“Jesus, you scared me!”

“Sorry,” you laugh, waiting for him to catch his breath. “I know you like to come this way.”

“Do you now?” Clark laughs, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He pulls away, searches the area, finds no one, and presses his lips back to yours. The height difference makes his chest swell with joy and he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your lower back. Between kisses, he mutters, “You'll never guess what my parents found earlier.”

“What’d they find?”

Clark pulls away and leans against the wall with a smug look. “Your boxers.”

“What?”

“Mhm.” Pushing off the wall, he gently grabs your arm and leads you toward the entrance of the Talon. “You must have left them there last time you were… over. I figure you took mine instead when you rushed out.”

You take a shaky breath. “Do they suspect anything?”

“You mean do they suspect we’re dating? No, doesn’t seem like it.”

“That’s good,” you reply as you take a seat closest to the door. “I guess you still don’t wanna tell anyone?”

Clark gives you an awkward smile as he sits opposite you and leans in close. “I just don’t know how they’ll react,” he says, voice hushed. “I mean, I know they’ll accept me, but…”

“You’re just not ready to announce you have a boyfriend.”

He looks around quickly, worrying that someone would overhear. “Exactly.”

Your hand twitches, and to Clark it looks as if you’re  about to reach for his hand but have second thoughts. He wants to reach out for you in return, hold your hand with no fear, but he stops himself. “That’s okay,” you smile, a small smile at first before it turns into a loving grin that lights him up like the Fourth of July. “I completely understand. As long as you’re happy, yeah?”

“I am happy.” Clark bumps his foot against yours under the table with a sweet smile. “You make me happy.”

Your grin widens “You make me happy too, Clark.”

He smirks and glances around. “Why don’t we get outta here?”

“Thought you wanted coffee.”

He shrugs. “Coffee can wait.” He stands and brushes a hand over your shoulder casually as he passes you, beckoning you to follow him.

“And this can’t?” You laugh, following outside and back down the alley. “What have you got planned?”

“Something fun,” he grins, looking around before taking you into his arms. “May I?”

“You may.”

Clark’s lips find your cheek. “Hold on.” He waits until you’re in his arms before speeding off, running faster than the speed of light. He runs and runs and runs until he makes it back to the farm, entering the barn and slowing down.

“We’re at the barn,” you state.

“Mhm.”

You smirk at him. “And what do you plan to do here?”

“Well…” he trails off, looking you up and down with his own flustered smile. “Whatever you want. But first, I’ll be back in a minute.”

He speeds off, leaving you standing alone. You shake your head with a laugh at his abrupt exit and make your way upstairs. By the time you’re flopping onto the couch and picking up a book from the table, Clark returns holding two coffees. 

“You couldn’t have gotten them before we left?” You ask, chuckling. 

“I didn’t think.”

“Do you ever?”

Clark rolls his eyes and hands you a cup, gently pushing your legs aside so he can sit next to you. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, wise guy.” He takes a sip of his coffee and smiles. “I figured we could have our coffee date here. In private. Where no one can see us.”

“That is what private means, Clark.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I can never catch a break with you, can I?”

“Only when I’m dead.”

“Well I hope that’s not soon,” he whispers, leaning in close and looking deep into your eyes. His breath fans your cheek. Leaning closer, he presses a few soft kisses from your lips toward your cheekbone, and he smiles, before pulling back and taking another sip of his drink. “Now I can kiss you whenever I want.”

You giggle at that. “Alright, loverboy. You sure your parents won’t come up here?”

“They’re both out doing their own things. We’re all alone up here.”

“Alone, huh?”

Clark flushes red. “Mhm.”

“Well maybe I can get my boxers back then?”

“Oh…” He glances away. “Yeah, uh, sure. I can go get them for you.”

You roll your eyes in amusement and laugh, leaning forward to press a kiss to his burning cheek. “I mean, Clark, that you'll have to take these ones off first.”

His breath catches in his throat and his wide eyes find yours. “Wh– I– Oh. Oh, heh, yeah. Yeah.”

“You’re so cute,” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “But it looks like you might explode if I say anything else like that. Let’s just enjoy this coffee first.”

He nods eagerly, making you laugh even more. “Sure. Yeah. It’s nice coffee. Really nice.”

You shuffle closer so that you’re curling into him, head on his firm chest. His strong arm instinctively wraps around you, pulling you closer, and he drops a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m glad we’re together, Clark.”

“Me too. If you hadn’t flirted with me on that day we met, I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

“Still chasing after girls that already have boyfriends, I bet. And blissfully unaware you could have been chasing after the boyfriends, too.”

He laughs and you can feel the vibrations of it against your cheek. “I’d have figured it out!” You glance up and raise an eyebrow and he gives you a cheeky smile. “Eventually.”

Pressing your lips to his, you smile. “I’m glad I helped you out.”

“Me too.”

The kiss deepens and you can feel rather than see Clark leaning forward to place his coffee on the table behind you. His hand slides up your arm and takes your cup too, placing it beside his. You chuckle against his lips as he pulls you into his lap. “Thought you were enjoying your coffee.”

“I was,” he shrugs, trailing kisses down to your jaw. “But I’ll definitely enjoy this more.”

You tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. “What happened to my cute flustered farm boy?”

Clark pulls back to smirk and there’s a playful glint in his beautiful blue eyes. “You talk too much,” he says, more of a loving statement than an insult. Pushing you against the soft pillows of the couch, he hovers over you confidently. “I guess I need to shut you up.”

You laugh and tug at the hem of his shirt before lifting it up and over his head. “And you need to give me my boxers back.”

He rolls his eyes “What did I just say, mister?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, eyes stuck to his toned torso. No matter how many times you’ve seen him shirtless, the beauty of him still amazes you. “Wasn’t listening. Was a bit distracted.”

He chuckles and dips back down to trail kisses from your lips to your neck, sliding his hands under your shirt and over your burning skin. “Guess I gotta help you with that.”

“And my bo–”

“And your boxers, I know, I know.” You share a sweet laugh and he removes your shirt, smiling down at you. “You're so beautiful. So, so beautiful.”

“Says you.”

He gives you his usual boyish grin and gives you a sweet kiss. “I do say so.”

It’s safe to say the coffee grows cold a while before the two of you are done.

[yoichi-supremacy]

about the shigaraki brothers childhood development...

It still baffles me to this day how the two brothers managed to integrate themselves into society, or more like a broken yet currently being rebuilt one. Obviously we don't have enough information to make sense of how they did a few things on their own, like feed themselves right after their mother's corpse was flushed away by the rapid rivers, find an area warm enough for them, food for nourishment, moving around just days after they were born. So many questions unanswered and wacky theories.

They're feral children in a ruined concrete jungle filled with people like them yet not. Maybe that's what made it easy for them to slide right on in as adults as if they weren't incoherent beings eating trash all day😭the adults were too busy running, stealing, arguing and fighting for their lives to pay attention to two strange and contaminated kids. AFO and Yoichi had nobody to teach them basic knowledge and skills for their age like the ABC's and how to write, read, and speak.

But then yoichi is shown being able to speak and understand certain actions first in regards to afo in their early days. Its Even hinted that yoichi learned to speak first in their facial expressions and certain scenes. Like when afo beat a group of thugs and yoichi crawled out of the shadows in tears, seemingly from not only pain, but empathy as he's probably thinking those men are hurting just as much as he is, and acknowledges by getting afos attention by throwing an empty can at him and telling his brother to stop and that it hurts only for afo to kick him in the face instead of replying back verbally, or when afo approached the group of men, who, when they spotted afo, debated on helping him or just leaving him there. Afo had every chance to make an attempt at speaking to them to ask for help, etc, but didn't and just killed the group right after they turned away from him. He's a non verbal child only running on instinct, actions and survival as it's all he's ever known.

Meanwhile, yoichi is forced to be cooped up somewhere where afo hid him as to not endanger himself. Yoichi is small and weak, the runt of the twins, so there's not a lot of options when it comes to him in battle. The only thing yoichi could do was listen to the beat up radio and pick up the tattered books around him. This is how yoichi was able to teach himself how to read and speak their native language. It wasn't afo who taught him to do all those things as he was out often doing God knows what and never spoke around those times. I'll add more, specifically about AFO'S quirk when I have time but I gotta go yall

[jazjelspen]

scarlet and silver lining (part 2)

alastor w/ daughter reader

(notes: apologies for any inconsistencies!! not proofread!! apologies for slight ooc vox since im unsure of how he first acted when he recently died and how he got into power qwq. apologies for anyone ooc in general cuz my brain is stew. slight graphic depictions of violence. this is definetly not by best work but I'll make sure to try harder next time!)

(tags: @falsemain @aconfusedwonderland @stasiaclash )

Today was a certainly an... eventful morning?

Certainly unusual though, considering on what you have stumbled upon on this certain morning.

You had barley been here on your first day and this is what you were to see? All you wanted was food-- even cereal would suffice.

But god-- really Angel??..

Having walked down the steps from your room, gotten ready for the day you walked down with a grace you've held even during your days living and breathing. With careful and cautious steps you managed to not come across him and have your morning ruined too early.

You had accidentally stumbled upon everyone at the main seating room, you being here due to not remembering where the kitchen or dining area was very well.

Unfortunately, Angel was proudly presenting one of his porn films to the group. Few disgusted.. embarrassed.. or even weirdly-- enjoying it.. geez Nifty's certainly weirder than you expected her to be.

You scrunched your nose up slightly as you started to feel a bit grossed out yourself, simply because others seemed uncomfortable and you weren't exactly fond of seeing these kinda of thing often.. but it was hell so you couldn't exactly complain.

You walked up to the group while trying to mute the moans and squeals from Angel Dust on the television in your head, propping your arms up on the large gold headboard of the sofa Angel was laying on and when you finally spoke you managed to even catch Angel and the others jumping slightly from the unexpected surprise as they spoke amongst themselves.

"Geez Angie.. Really gotta be showin' everyone what you do?"

"--And you!"

Now you were surprised, your eyes darting towards the winged cat that, turns out, was speaking before you got there and was even pointing at you.

There was a pause. Your eyes and his meeting as he was pointing at you.. he narrowed his own set before becoming seemingly speechless.

"Actually I don't even know you yet, but considering how you act on that disgusting show and simply being here you probably got some kind of issue similar to your friend here." His eyed flickered to Angel as he spoke towards you. You being incredibly confused on what the fuck this guy was even saying by mentioning you but Angel decided to spit out his words before you.

"Oh yea? And what's my issue pussy cat?"

The cat, name being Husk from what you could remember the day before, scoffed at your friend. "Don't get me started. I see right through you and all of this bullshit and how fake you are."

Angel in response, seemed to laugh nervously.. almost in a way to cover something up. "Me? Fake? Wow.. I had no idea.." The spider's voice holding certain sarcasm continued, you just simply waiting to be able to ask your own question next. "Guess that's why I'm an actor, dumbass.. AND--" and just like that he was interrupted by a ring of his cellphone, having to quickly hold his finger up and mutter to Husk a 'hold that thought' before moving away to answer his oncoming call.

Meanwhile.. you finally managed to ask your question to Husk. "When you mean me having an issue similar to my friend's.. do you mean I seem fake? Wait-- why was I even mentioned anyway?.. I just got here!.."

"Depends. I haven't talked to you enough, but if you and him get along then I'm sure you must have some kind of fake act you hide behind as well.. you definitely can't be as cheery in person as you are on that show.

Oh and I was just revealing everyone's darn issues.. being a hell of a bartender works out for these kinds of things.." standing there almost mumbling his last few words just made you bite your cheek a bit as your face flushed in slight embarrassment. He's not exactly.. not totally wrong..

In the end Angel confessed that he needed to do an emergency shoot for his boss, whom you hated with all your guts as well with how badly that piece of shit treated Angel. You never did get abuse as bad as Angel's but still.. it all definitely gets to you on how both your bosses treated you and those around.

You frowned slightly while looking down at the sofa he previously sat on, dreading when you'll have to get back on TV as well.. although you were a bit unsure of how you'll get Vox's message if you didn't bring your cellphone.

Ah well.. not for you to worry about anyway-- if he really wanted to contact you then you're more than certain he'll find a way to reach you whether you liked it or not.

You snapped out of your thoughts once you heard Angel huff and puff out the door while exchanging a few hurried words to Charlie before slamming it in front of her face.. slight disrespect much? You felt a bit bad for the princess, seemed like quite the pushover.

You truly hoped she wouldn't rule the entirety of hell in this exact way, for if she did she'd get eaten alive for sure.

But while she was groaning and becoming frustrated as her girlfriend was helping her out you were still very much hungry. "Sooo.." you mumbled "Where's the food area? I didn't exactly wake up too early to eat with all of you.. if you did all eat together." You smiled nervously at what's left of the group, body facing Husk who was the closest.

He even responded to you! How kind-- although he was still quite grumpy.

He pointed a finger from his left hand holding the bottle behind himself at the nearest entry way behind and beside the staircase you walked down from. "Over there, turn left, head straight, see two large fancy doors? Open it. walk through it, ignore the empty tables unless you want to eat alone which would be fucking sad and head towards the door with the circular window at the top. That's the kitchen and eat whatever you want, don't complain if anything's spoiled since you chose to be here of all places."

You couldn't help but want to roll your eyes slightly, but with a minor huff of your own you walked passed him and tried your best to remember his shitty directions. "Thanks.. Husk.."

Once you started walking his directions were shitty indeed, simple but being a bit more descriptive definitely would've helped.

Walking through the hall you'd eventually go through your steps echoed against the walls, bouncing back and forth like the ripple of a rain drop on a puddle. Thankfully it was very clean, Nifty certainly seemed to have done her job right with how spotless this part of the hotel was! As weird as she is.. she does her job well.

Finally reaching said 'fancy' doors you opened it to see an entire dining room. Clean as well with newly furnished tables and chairs with unique tablecloths with intricate designs only reminiscent of the royal family. Even each of the tables had a vase and flowers set up and two small pepper and salt shakers, although you ere certain those flowers were fake considering the lack of realism to them.

Nonetheless, fairly charming.

You walked past them all to head towards a large door with the circular window that was described by Husk, peaking through it from a distance it was certainly to the kitchen.

But..

Gosh.. what was that smell?..

It was a humble, nostalgic, delicious smell.

God-- what the fuck was it??..

As if the smell was leading your nose faster towards the door, pushing your body against it since it was those doors that simply would swing itself open or closed with a push.

"Ooo.. is that--" you walked in with a big smile, your nostrils filling itself with that childhood scent.

"It certainly is, ma puce."

You should've known.

The voice that disturbed your entire morning and mood turned around from the stove to reveal itself as none other than-- Alastor.

"Why.. it's certainly an absolute gas to see you up and awake! I even made you your favorite--" the radio demon exclaimed whilst picking up the pan he was using to plop whatever food he made onto the plate, with a swift motion he set down the pan to grab the plate and reveal your hot and fresh breakfast to you.

"--Jambalaya!" he cheered, a subtle audio track of an audience cheering could be heard from his staff that seemed to work as both a microphone and a speaker.

"Uh huh.." you frowned deeply while crossing your arms and raising your shoulder while taking a step back from him. "Actually I ate before I came he--" and even as you tried to escape him by turning back he managed to teleport right in front of you!

"Tsk tsk.. my dear you know you can't lie to me. Take a seat, enjoy your meal! You can't be telling me you aren't dying to try your favorite dish?" He put his hand on your back and the other holding the food as he pushed you through the door, then suddenly pulled you by your wrist, and sat you down on the nearest empty table. "Besides.."

"It's your Nana's recipe..."

Oh.

Your Nana.

Your eyes softened at the mention of her but immediately glared at him with a sharp gaze which seemed to not even affect him in the slightest.

'This fucker..' he knew how to get to you, he knew your weakness.

"Don't you dare fucking mention her. You have no right to have her name roll down your disgusting tongue and through your rotten teeth."

"Oh, is that any way to treat your father little fawn? My.. you're not even little anymore! My mistake.."

His large smirk widened as he set down the plate and a pair of silverware in front of you.. it only made you want to strangle that thin neck of his.

You hated him.

He was the reason why you were down here.. although indirectly. You were blind, you were so caught up in his act even after he died--

it costed you your life.

"I'll only eat it because of Nana, other than that I would really appreciate if you could fuck off Alastor." Even as you told him to screw off he stayed ever so present! Even setting down a cup of hot coffee(or tea, whichever you prefer) in front of you that also smelled utterly delicious. "Besides you only started properly raising me instead of playing babysitter when you realized no one else would, I'm more surprised you didn't throw me back into the orphanage."

"Oh darling I'm certainly a monster but I'm not a downright devil!" Alastor you know damn well.. "Your grandmother loved you too much.. I couldn't just let you go so easily!"

"Yea yea whate-" you picked up your mug to take a sip of whatever was in it which to your surprise.. it was an old favorite drink of yours. One that you would drink every morning with Alastor during your teenage years..

"Hm.. not bad.." You mumbled as you took another sip of it, yet again another sense of home washing you over once more.

"I still yet remember your favorite morning beverage mon chere. What kind of father would I be if I wouldn't?"

"Uh yea-- when I was a teenager. A few years behind dontcha' think?" You scoffed at him while trying to seem as if his efforts were meaningless but the simple action of continuously sipping the liquid totally didn't just.. contradict that.

"Which is why I'd like to catch up a bit more hm? You begged me to leave you alone and I let you be your own independent self when I first found out you were associated with that.. thing." He pulled out the chair across from you to take a seat himself. Right after he set his staff resting against the side of the table and relaxed his elbows on the surface, his chin laid on the back of his hands while looking right at you.. inspecting you.

"If my memory serves correct I'd say around.. seventy-one years? Hm? Since I've seen you? I'm sure you've made some absolutely splendid decisions all those years."

You loudly sighed as you set the halfway empty mug down and replacing the item with the silverware beside your plate.

" Look my decisions aren't for you to judge. You're no saint and I'm not obliged to listen to whatever terrible advice you have. I'm ten years older than when you have last seen me alive and not even including the ninety-four years I've been down here in total." Intertwining your fingers with the silverware you picked up some food from your plate and bring it up towards your plate. The smell seemingly holy to you and once you plopped it in your mouth..

You could've sworn heaven took a delicious shit in your mouth. This was so fucking good...

The spices, the vegetables, the rice.. it was all just cooked to perfection.

You could definitely feel goosebumps crawl around your body and your mouth exploding in flavor.

Oh how you loved the taste of New Orleans.

"Just the way you like it dear?"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your eyes popped open towards the smirking overlord, seemingly proud of your reaction and it made you release a loud scoff from your throat.

"Just-- screw off. I don't want to associate myself with a murderer and a sadist." You set your silverware on your plate as you held your food on one hand and your mug in the other as you stood up from your seat.

"I sure do hope you know that your employer, that imbecile with one of those wretched picture boxes for a head, isn't any better darling." Alastor stayed in place but his eyes were the only thing that followed you while you took a few steps away from him with your back facing him.

Although his comment made you freeze on the spot you didn't dare turn around and face him for he wasn't even worth the action.

"Sure, he's not any better than you. But at least he didn't lie to me all my life and made me believe he was the most amazing person in the world, he didn't make me believe that he was a saint.. that he was actually a good person.."

You paused.

"So, yeah.. he may not be any better but he at the very least he isn't anything like you."

Just like that you resumed walking out the dining room, hands occupied and heart full.

You only amused your father albeit feeling a slight uncomfortable twinge in his chest that made him only want to reconnect with you more.

You just reminded him too much of your grandmother, noticing a few small actions and habits you did that you acquired through growing up with her.

You were all he had left of her, and you were all he had left of that little girl he had to leave behind.

Through selfish means it happened but..

He wished to try, just once more.

___________________________________________

You let out a shaky sigh of fear.

It was your 12th year in Hell and you have been scraping by simply scavenging for scraps, fighting foes with any weapons you could find or trade for and trying to stay alive. You were basically living in squalor but in the nicest parts of town, and was surprisingly somewhat respected due to being affiliated with a few loan sharks that you helped in return for money of resources.. even working 'normal' jobs to at least rent out a small home.

It was now the day of the 'Extermination' Where exorcist angels from above would kill any demons they could find in order to keep the population at bay. You've managed to survive each year due to your connections but all your 'protectors' have been murdered by said exorcists or have fallen from their once high power.

Cruel for heaven but-- then again you couldn't blame them. Not with how power and money hungry these sinners could be.. maybe it was best for them to keep sinners on the low.

But god did you wish you could be pardoned from this the way the hellborn were.

You didn't mean to die the way you did.

You tried to do it for a good cause.

You truly trusted in your beliefs.

You really didn't think you'd get that angry.

You didn't mean to kill that man.

You regret everything.

Especially on the day you heard Alastor's broadcasts all over hell.. you were shocked that he was even in hell but he was even torturing and toppling overlords for his own amusement??

It feels as if the version of Alastor that you grew up with, your dad..

It felt like he died all over again.

Even yet you're still mourning over it.. not for Alastor-- but for your father.

You really should've trusted those detectives and cops huh? Should've trusted the newspapers, even the 'news' on the new picture boxes they invented spoke about his case like daily gossip.

You should've trusted them all.

Evidence was right there but since you grew up with him and saw no signs on your part you could've sworn you felt it in your gut that he was innocent! That maybe that deer hunter that shot him was framing him!

That had to be the case--

Preaching about good behavior, following laws yet rebelling when they are discriminatory or unfair, that life was beautiful and precious...

Pfft. Precious my ass.

He lead you to your death and he didn't even take any part in it.

But to you, your blood was on his hands.

Which is why you knew you weren't going to regret this next part but..--

inevitably.. you did.

You were currently on the floor of an overlord's abode.

You have been seeking refuge from the exterminations happening just outside and this place was the nearest one before an exorcist angel could cut you in half.

How you managed to get in? You were quite unsure at the moment.. it went so quick, did it in a panic, and you're losing blood from a slash on the leg?? Yea getting in here was all your body was begging you to do.

But you let out a shriek when you were once again having a weapon pointed at you.

Well-- two.

Two bodyguard-looking guys confronted you as you looked up at them in fear, a third more sophisticated figure approaching.

Vox, the television demon, his head a bit funny to you considering how small his screen was yet he terrified you as well due to his status.

"How did-- oh I'm going to fucking kill Betty for leaving everything except the back door closed." He eyed you, a look of disgust evident on said small screen. "Oh just kill he--"

"WAIT!!--"

They positioned their weapons to your forehead this time, Vox about to turn around until you mentioned he- who-must--not-be-named.

"I...I knew Alastor!!--"

A shriek of a television signal could be heard, a new kind of static radiating from the overlord.

He faced you-- in a scary yet almost funny kind of way..

"What did you just say?"

"I.." you gulped.. you can't tell him he's your dad! you're smarter than that even in dire situations like these.. it's only more trouble for you.

"I knew him.. I was his.. assistant! yes and I wrote his scripts and he uh--" you felt yourself cower slightly seeing Vox come closer and put a hand up which caused his bodyguards to put their weapons down. He didn't need them, but they caused that fear he needed.

"He got me.. killed.." you trailed off and flinching when he bent down to you.

Vox smirked "Killed huh? You were one of his pathetic victims?"

You nodded vigorously, hoping this will get you to live another day. "He.. He used me as a shield when some coppers tried to shoot him.. got me instead.."

"Does that make you hate him?"

"Yes sir.."

"Hate him so much you could strange him, open his stomach, twist his intestines and feed them to them old rats in the hotels and skid ro--"

"Yes! yes sir.."

Okay maybe this overlord went a bit too far with his hate but.. whatever to not get fucking impaled by an angel.

Vox's smirk widened as he then dragged you up by your arm in a way that was far from gentle. "You sure have a pretty face as well, sight for sore eyes." He inspected you as you only stood there in fear on one leg with your other still bleeding out "Water, some rest and your voice just may be as smooth as honey." He harshly grabbed your chin to look over your appearance even more, your hair, any facial marks you may have. "You say you wrote scripts too? If you're any good you may be able to make some interesting headlines if so."

"Hm.." he hummed in thought " I like you. Prove to be useful to me and I'll let you live.. and just maybe.. I'll protect you from the exterminations and let you live comfortably working for me. As comfortable as it can get.. "

Protection from an overlord.. job from an overlord--

Not the best choices but it's way better than what you're doing right now..

"What do you say, is it a deal sweetheart?"

You weren't that stupid to make a deal with an overlord.

But as mentioned before,

Your undying spite with Alastor might've been your biggest push to shake Vox's hand and give your soul away carelessly.

"Deal."

(It's 1AM I need sleep BUT I JUST WANNA POST THISSISISIS GRAHHHH im so tired but there's one particular scene I want to get to.. may take awhile but AHHHHHHHH I can't wait!!)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Don’t Chase the Dead

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth Era post 11x24

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: You and Daryl find yourselves in a battle for survival after the archer leads you into danger in a attempt to absolve him of his guilt.

Prompt: "Being in love is not a weakness, you know"

A/N: You can find the request from @alldevilsarehere90 here. Finally finished this beast! It really got away from me and I ended up moving all sorts of things around before I was even remotely happy with it. I’m sorry it took so long!

PSA: I think I should let it be known that (if you haven’t noticed) I really like to beat up on our boy. There’s just something about an injured Daryl that I love. Probably won’t veer from that anytime soon.

*gif is not mine

They were all dead. Every last one of the men that had murdered a young boy from the Commonwealth. Only you and Daryl were left standing. 

Metaphorically speaking. 

You stared at an arrow from the enemy’s quiver, inspecting it before letting it fall to the ground. 

“Ya know—whatcha gotta—do, Y/N.” 

You were already shaking your head before the first word had left Daryl’s bloody lips. The arrowhead in his left thigh was barbed. If you tried to pull it out, it would mercilessly tear through muscle and flesh, doing much more damage and leaving a wound that would bleed freely while requiring more than stitches. The one pull Daryl had given it was enough to put him on his ass. He was right, and that made you feel nauseous. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Your bottom lip quivered. Tears fell unchecked. Your own upper arm ached but the bullet had only managed a decent graze. “What if it hit an artery? What if I make it hit an artery?”

Daryl’s eyes scanned the area around you, always on guard. The man who had shot him had been dealt with quickly, the last of the enemies to have fallen by a bullet you fired. The shots would attract walkers. 

“Do you think you can walk if you lean on me?” You asked. Your voice raised slightly with a hint of hope. “We can get you back to the Commonwealth, to the hospital.”

“Y/N.” The archer was calm, tired. He laid his head back against the wall, looking down his nose at you. “Y’know I—l can’t.”

You cursed under your breath, staring at the protruding wooden shaft. Once again, he was right. Even if you bound the wound to the best of your ability, the likelihood of it shifting and tearing inside was tremendous. “Okay. We have to be fast. We can’t stay here much longer.” You undid your belt and looked around you for a safe place for when things inevitably went south. Pessimism or just simply acknowledging Dixon luck, it didn’t matter. There was a maintenance shed, door open. The probability of walkers inside was slim but not none. It’d do in a pinch though. 

Your flannel shirt would be used as a bandage after, so you peeled it off and tore off the sleeves, biting and pulling at the rest of it to form it into strips. “Can you turn onto your right side just a little?” You asked while wrapping a piece of the fabric around your arm. You used your teeth to aid in tying it off. 

Daryl nodded tiredly and angled himself onto his right hip. He could probably do this himself, honestly, but you were there and had a better view of the injury. Your biggest worry was the wood splintering or snapping, leaving the arrowhead inside. 

Using your knife, you cut the fabric around the point of entry as carefully as possible. It’s still oozing blood but nothing like it will be once the weapon is removed. Chewing on your lip, you go back to cutting, this time at the back of his thigh. Worry is gnawing at you relentlessly, your insides twisting. 

“I could break the shaft, make it easier for you to move. I think we could make it—”

“Gotta break—gotta break it anyway.” To emphasize his point, he leaned forward and wrapped a trembling hand around where the weapon entered his flesh. With what looked like the tiniest bit of effort and a pained grunt, he snapped the arrow and tossed the end somewhere in the darkness. His back thudded against the wall. “Just do it—or I’ll do it an’ ya can—head on back. I‘ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving you! No way!” You snap. Daryl wasn’t thinking clearly. That much was obvious. Either from blood loss, exhaustion, or the guilt eating him up at the loss of that boy. Maybe all of the above. He hadn’t slept since he’d had to put down the reanimated corpse. He was supposed to be with the kid. He had promised to show him how to track and hunt. The archer had been called away to help elsewhere and the kid had angrily left the safety of the community. No one blamed Daryl except Daryl. 

Still, no one could ever make Daryl feel worse than he could himself, and you could do nothing without his compliance. 

“Fine.” You leaned toward him and held out your belt. “Bite down on this.” When he raised an eyebrow behind his curtain of hair, you sighed. “It’s gonna hurt, Daryl. There are probably already walkers and god knows what else headed for us. I’d rather not let them know exactly where we are.” His lip curled in distaste but opened his mouth and let you place the strap between his teeth. That man could be so stupidly stubborn sometimes. 

Your hand hovered over the arrow’s broken shaft. You knew there was no time to waste. You started counting down from three, more for yourself than him, and wrapped your hand around the arrow. Judging by how he remained silent, he knew that. When you hit one, you tightened your grip and pushed. Daryl went rigid, agonized sounds rushing out around the belt held so tightly between his teeth. 

You honestly hadn’t expected so much resistance, quick to conclude you must have been grazing the bone. “I know, I know,” you tried to soothe as you adjusted the angle. Daryl arched off the wall with a muffled shout. The arrow began to move again, soon breaking through the skin on the other side. You released a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as the archer went boneless, the belt falling from his mouth so he could breathe through the pain with heavy pants. “The worst is over.” Flesh dangled from the barbs but it exited rather cleanly, and you were able to grab beneath the tip and pull it free. “Done. It’s out.” 

You’d have to stop and stitch him up once you were both a safe distance away. A piece of flannel was folded into a square and pressed over the back of his leg, quickly soaking through. With a muttered “shit,” you replaced it with another and one more on top of that one before managing to tie what used to be a sleeve around it. Just as you pulled it tight, you heard a branch snap and an all too familiar (yet no less terrifying) snarl. You had to bandage the top wound quickly and get the both of you out. “Hold this here.” You instructed when you pressed a square to the top of his thigh. Daryl didn’t move. “Daryl?” Maintaining pressure, you leaned forward to see his face. He had passed out. “Fuck!” 

Another growl. More shuffling steps. 

You hurried through wrapping the second one and shouldered your pack, leaning forward to urgently tap the archer’s cheek. “Daryl, wake up. Daryl!” He stirred but didn’t open his eyes. “We have to go. Now!” You stood when he still didn’t respond, wiping your bloody hands on your jeans. Looked like you’d be needing that maintenance shed after all. 

You could see them now, the group of undead bodies making their way toward you, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. You gave a frustrated huff and moved up toward the wall, struggling to heave your archer into a sitting position so you could hook your hands under his arms. Daryl was a stout man, all lean muscle under his layers. Dragging him would not be an easy feat. 

“Anytime you wanna wake up and help, that’d be great!” You pulled and pulled, finally managing a few feet before the first walker was just too close. You had no options other than your gun. The shot was fired and the gun holstered just as quickly then you were back to dragging your partner. “If we make it through this, I’m going to kill you!” As if hearing your threat, Daryl groaned. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Too many undead were lumbering toward you. “Are you with me?”

“Y/N?” The archer questioned groggily. 

“None other!” You grunted. His good leg kicked out to dislodge a walker from his boot, nearly throwing you off balance. “Welcome back to the land of the…somewhat living.” Some of his weight shifted away as he got his good leg up under him, using your hold under his arms to lever himself upright. “We’ve got to get to the shed. You’re still bleeding and—” 

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You were pulled back and Daryl went down, unable to take his own weight so suddenly on the injured limb. Two walkers had grabbed hold of your pack, the only thing standing between you and grizzly death. And now there was nothing standing between Daryl and the same fate. You watched helplessly as you struggled against the rotted hands trying to get to your flesh. He had pulled his knife, making it upright to stab one skull before he’d tumble down, catch his breath, and do it again. 

“Y/N!”

With fierce determination, you pulled your own blade from the sheath on your thigh and slid your arms from the straps holding the bag to your back. One walker stumbled with the pack while the other grabbed your arm. You only let it get close enough to drive the knife into its temple. “Daryl!” Three walkers were closing in on him fast. 

“Y/N, get outta here!”

He couldn’t have possibly thought that was going to work. The corpse on your pack grabbed for your ankle but you kicked free and sprinted to Daryl, rounding in front of him to push one threat back and quickly stab it. You turned just in time for a walker’s teeth to close roughly with an audible click about two inches from your face. The shock lasted a mere heartbeat. You stabbed it in the eye and Daryl released his hold on the back of its tattered shirt. The archer tumbled forward gracelessly and you managed to catch him under one arm to keep him standing.

“I told ya to run!” He snapped. 

“The shed! Let’s move!” You ignored him and pulled him along with you. He was barely keeping up, stumbling to keep as much weight off the injured leg as he could manage. 

Walkers were coming from every side. You weren’t sure you’d make it before they reached you. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Two were almost in front of the door. If they cut you off now, even a flawless dispatching would cost your window of opportunity to secure relative safety. 

The arm around Daryl’s waist tightened and you pulled him harder, nearly causing him to lose what little balance he was trying so hard to maintain. 

“Y/N.” He growled in a low, warning tone. 

You discarded the knife and pulled your gun to put a bullet in the forehead of the walker closest to the door. It was a close call but you managed to get you both to the entrance. There was no time for tenderness. You used your momentum to twist your body and practically throw the bowman into the darkness, hearing him crash into something inside that obviously tumbled down when he made contact. You continued the motion, spinning to back into the shed while pulling the door closed. You screamed in frustration when a rotted arm came through the last remaining space and prevented the latch from securing. 

You couldn’t take either hand away from the door, your weight being the only thing keeping the creature out. Within moments, more would join it and you would be overpowered. You released an angry howl and grabbed the handle, opening the door outward only to slam it closed on the decomposing limb. Once, twice. It took stepping forward into danger and throwing yourself nearly off your feet to snap off the arm and allow the door to close. 

There was no lock. You couldn’t see your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t barricade the door when you couldn’t make out what objects were around you. It would have to wait. Regardless, you flinched when the sound of bodies hitting the outside of the shed rang through the small space. Switching gears in an instant, you replaced one fear with another. Daryl hadn’t made a sound since you had sent him sailing gracelessly into the unknown. 

“Daryl?” You kept your voice at a whisper. Agitating the walkers that had already pegged you as their next meal wouldn’t be smart. You walked with small steps, unable to see where you were going. You didn’t want to fall over something, especially if that something was your partner. There was no sound aside from your quiet footfalls. Frankly, it was unnerving. 

You had felt fear morphing into panic just as a hand wrapped around your ankle. Your first instinct was to kick out but you managed to hear the click of a zippo lighter opening followed by the familiar flicking that would ignite the flame. Daryl was slumped against a utility shelf, surrounded by a mess of jugs, tools, and empty storage bins. 

He looked tired. Sweaty and pale, but mostly just exhausted. You knelt beside him and took the lighter from his hand, sitting it close by on the concrete floor. “You alright?” You asked softly. His skin was clammy beneath your fingers when you stroked his cheek and brushed his hair away from his eyes. Rolling his head toward you, his expression screamed ‘did you really just ask me that?’ and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He stared at you for a moment, almost as if he was deciding whether or not you were sincere. One corner of his mouth twitched upward so slightly that you would have missed it had you not been staring at him so intently. He finally grunted with a nod and let his head rest against a lower shelf, closing his eyes. 

Satisfied that your impromptu toss hadn’t caused him any further injuries, you slid the lighter a bit closer so you could take a look at his leg. It wasn’t good. The fabric was soaked through, dark droplets collecting steadily into a small puddle below his leg. Worry gnawed at your gut but you pushed it down in favor of taking action. “I’m gonna get you stitched up and we’ll figure out what to do from here.” He gave you a thumbs up, not bothering to open his eyes. 

You scooped up the lighter and turned to reach for your pack. Only—it wasn’t there. Where had you placed it? When you replayed the past fifteen minutes, you felt your stomach sink. 

You had left it behind. Beneath a walker. 

“Fuck.” You breathed the word out shakily, frozen to your spot on the floor. 

“What?” Daryl rasped from behind you. 

You still wore a frozen expression of horrifying realization when you twisted back to look at him. He raised his head, brow drawn inward, and repeated himself. 

“My pack. I left it out there—when I ran over to help you.” 

To your shock, he simply shrugged. “Don’t matter.” 

You gaped at him. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?! Daryl, you’re bleeding!”

Another shrug. “Ain’t the first time, won’t be the last.”

“Daryl. Seriously.” You leveled him with a glare, but he waved you off and began pulling himself up with the aid of the shelves. “What’re you doing? Sit down!” You were really struggling with keeping quiet. The man had a stubborn streak a mile wide. 

“Can it, woman. M’fine.” He stumbled away from the safety of the shelf and grabbed onto the edge of a small table with a grunt, lips pressed into a thin line. 

You noticed, of course, and folded your arms over your chest. “That hurt, huh?” You deadpanned. He tossed a glare your way and, with a sigh, you approached and held up the lighter to start looking around the shed with him. There wasn’t much beyond some handheld tools, random hoses, containers, nuts, and bolts. There were no windows, no other way to escape. 

Fortunately, Carol knew you two had left and where you were going. She had asked to come along but you had shot her down. If only you had known the numbers you and Daryl would face on your own, not to mention the aftermath. Regardless, Carol would come looking. Eventually.

You both just had to survive until then. 

The likelihood of that was looking bleaker by the moment. Your provisions and medical supplies were outside, amidst about two dozen walkers. Not to mention, Daryl was steadily losing blood, leaving a small trail as he finished scouting the space for anything useful. You began to wonder if you had managed to nick the artery after all. 

“Okay, okay. We just need to think. We’ve made it out of worse situations.” You stood facing him, trying not to think about how fast he was breathing or how the pallor to his skin resembled the undead just outside the door. 

“Ya shoulda run. Told ya to run.” Daryl stated quietly, not looking at you. “Ya know damn well—”

“You know damn well I’d never leave you behind! Not now, not ever!”

“Y/N.” His eyes were shimmering with moisture and you could clearly see the flame reflected there. You gave him a small but genuine smile. You would absolutely give your life for Daryl. You knew he would do the same for you. He almost had more than once. Your eyes followed his hand, calloused fingertips whispering down your jaw. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. If you did die tonight, at least you’d be with the man you loved.

You opened your eyes when his hand fell away, ready to keep showering him with affection. Your smile faltered. He was staring at you, face taut with fear. “Daryl?” Just as you took another step closer, his eyes rolled back and he dropped. You abandoned the lighter in favor of catching him, arms hooking beneath his. You couldn’t hold his sudden weight but you managed to slow his descent. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You ended on your hip with his upper body against your torso and his head tucked under your chin. It was a struggle but you managed to turn and sit against the shelf. He was still pressed tightly against you, and you had no intention of letting go. Your tears flowed freely now, one hand moving constantly: stroking his hair, touching his face, checking his pulse, fisting his vest. 

You flinched violently when the door rattled and you heard shards of debris rain onto the concrete. They would flood into the shed any minute. You pulled Daryl’s second knife from its sheath on his belt. Your gun had been lost in your battle to seal the door. 

Cradling him even tighter, you pressed your face into his temple and sobbed. “I love you. No matter what happens, you have to know that.” 

Moments passed, the pounding on the door became more pronounced as the lighter’s flame began to diminish. You could see moonlight and shadows through the areas of the door that had given way under the assault. You could only watch as the door began to buckle. When it seemed as if they would finally break through, you pressed a kiss to Daryl’s forehead and maneuvered from underneath his body, gently lowering him to the floor. 

You were beyond exhausted. Your own injuries were singing with pain. Still, you would put down as many of the fuckers as humanly possible, ready to die before you’d let a single rotten finger touch him. Knife poised to attack, you shifted from foot to foot, readying yourself. The flame went out. 

“HEY!”

You froze at the very human, very alive shout from outside, your tear-filled eyes wide and unblinking. The pounding on the door lessened before stopping completely. 

“TAKE COVER IN THERE!”

You didn’t hesitate to drop the knife and throw yourself over Daryl just as an explosion sounded from just outside. The small shed trembled fiercely for a matter of seconds before everything went still and quiet. Breathing heavily, you raised your head. The door was hanging by one hinge, ready to collapse. Smoke and dust was filtering in and blocked any view of the scene outside. 

A silhouette began to take shape as it approached. Daryl’s knife was back in your hand within a heartbeat and you crouched in front of the still unconscious man, ready to defend him. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Y/N?”

The knife clattered to the ground. “Carol?” Your voice broke on the second syllable, hope seeping into your chest and making you dizzy. 

The silver-haired woman stepped through the doorway, a large gun in hand. She released the barrel and let the strap take the weight so she could pull a flashlight from her belt. More shadows were scurrying about through the smoke behind her. You shielded your eyes as the light found you, falling back onto your ass with a broken laugh of pure relief. 

“He okay? What happened?”

Carol crossed the distance and sat the gun aside, placing a cool hand on your cheek while she looked you over critically. 

“We’ve had a shitty day.”

Your thumb was tracing circles over the back of Daryl’s hand, your eyes following the movements. It had been roughly 13 hours since the grenade had rattled the small shed and Carol had been your savior, along with some volunteers she had rallied up. They had brought medical supplies but you chose to use what you had in your pack. Daryl was going to be thrilled. 

He had remained unconscious while you stitched his leg and while the volunteers helped get him onto a horse. You didn’t feel safe riding with him draped across the animal’s back and chose to ride behind him on the saddle. He was leaning heavily against you, head lolling side to side on your shoulder, and your back ached by the time you and Carol had arrived home to the Commonwealth. He had been restless in his state, saying your name several times in a voice laced with pain and confusion. Each time, you had answered and the arm you had wrapped around his middle had gently tightened. He never responded. 

The men who had traveled back with you carried Daryl into the hospital and he was whisked away on a stretcher. You didn’t like the idea of not going with him but the nurse had insisted that you needed care as well. You sat quietly while your arm was stitched, mind wandering to what would have happened had Carol not shown up when she did. You shook the thoughts from your mind before a devastating conclusion could form images behind your eyes. 

Carol had stayed for a while before offering promises of bringing some food by later and then heading to her home to sleep, leaving you alone with Daryl. The silence was daunting. 

Glancing up, you watched the drops of antibiotics and fluids drip from the bags hanging on the pole. Tomi had promised Daryl would make a full recovery but insisted he stay for at least two days to ensure there was no infection. You did not want to be the one to break that news to him. 

You narrowed your eyes when you were almost certain you could hear the small droplets hit the collection in the mechanism that fed the medication into Daryl’s IV. God, you were tired. You wanted, in the worst way, to crawl onto the bed with him and sleep for days. Yet, you remained in your chair at his bedside, slouching down to lay your head next to his hand that you were still holding. 

You had no more than closed your eyes when Daryl began to come around with a quiet moan. Standing so quickly caused the room to spin but you didn’t care. The archer’s eyes were closed tightly, brow creased. Tomi would need to give him something for the pain, probably. He’d have to be quick and sneaky, otherwise Daryl would refuse it. He always refused anything that could be used by someone else to better their lives for even a moment, at the expense of his wellbeing. Luckily, you and Carol were around to make sure he somehow managed to stay healthy. He didn’t make it easy for you. The previous night had been proof of that. 

After just a few moments, he relaxed a little and his eyes began to flutter open. You leaned in further so you would be one of the first things he saw and gave his hand a squeeze. His tired gaze settled on your face and his fingers briefly tightened around your hand.

“Welcome back, Dixon.” You smiled while your free hand began to smooth back his hair, soft and gentle sweeps of your palm that you thought for a moment might coax him back to sleep. 

“Hi.” He croaked, expression pinching up in discomfort. A cup of water was at his lips a moment later. Given the position of the bed, he didn’t need to raise his head far to accept a few swallows, but you put your hand behind his neck to support him anyway. When he turned his head away slightly, you placed the cup on the bedside table. Daryl cleared his throat and tried again. “Ya alrigh’?”

You laughed at the ridiculous question. Of course he had nearly bled to death and was worried about you when he woke up. “I’m fine. I’m not the one laid up in the hospital.” It was a joke and he knew it, if the feeble scoff he gave was any indication. 

“How’d we get back?” He still sounded so, so tired but you’d take tired and awake over sitting by his deathly still form any day. 

“Carol.” You didn’t have to say anything else. The man nodded gingerly and closed his eyes. You stayed quiet for several minutes, back to petting his hair. While he was relaxed under your ministrations, he was not sleeping. “Daryl, we need to talk about what happened.” He didn’t open his eyes right away but released a deep sigh. “We should have waited to go after those guys when a group had been designated. Instead, I was chasing you, running off all half-cocked.” You waited and finally his eyes opened. He didn’t look at you, and you knew then that, while he felt bad about it, he was aware you were right. He stared at a point between the wall and the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to engage in the conversation. It was your turn to sigh. “Daryl, why didn’t you wait?” You pressed. The answer was one you knew already, but you needed him to be willing to talk about it. 

“Kid was s’posed ta be with me, Y/N.” He finally said. “Them parents ain’t got their kid no more cause I didn’t protect him.” There was a sadness in his eyes that broke your heart. It was still a wonder to you how that brash, rude redneck you met at the quarry all those years ago transformed into the man in front of you. Still sometimes rude, but with the biggest heart of any man you’d ever known. He had opened himself up and allowed himself to love and to be loved, though it didn’t come without cost. Allowing himself to feel so deeply also made him a slave to more negative feelings. He held onto those tightly and let them punish him, beat him down. 

You leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead, the action drawing his gaze to yours. “Listen to me, Daryl Dixon.” Your hand gently pressed on the side of his face. “That guilt isn’t yours to carry.” When he opened his mouth, your hand moved to press a finger to his lips. You shook your head. “It’s not. There’s no one to blame here except the kid and those men. He chose to leave the community that day and that was a mistake he was old enough to know better than to make, but it was those men that made the choice to end his life. That’s not on you. Do you hear me?” 

He was mulling it all over, looking away from you. You weren’t naive enough to think that this conversation could change the way he processed emotions, but perhaps over time, with enough love and reminders, he would stop shouldering so much shit alone. 

“Ya still should’a run when I told ya. That’s gonna getcha killed one day.” 

“Why do you do that?” You twisted to sit on the edge of the bed, next to his hip. 

“Do what?” Daryl grimaced, probably from pain, but his expression smoothed out quickly. 

“Act like you shouldn’t be important to me. Like I shouldn’t make you a priority.” You waited for him to look at you. You wanted him to see your sincerity. “Being in love is not a weakness, you know. You’re everything to me, Daryl. You make me want to fight, to survive. If it takes me dying to keep you alive then it’s worth it.”

“S’not.” 

“It is. You are.” When he looked away, you leaned over to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you again. The emotions you saw there made your heart clench. “You are worth it. You will always be worth it, Daryl.”

His Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed, eyes looking back and forth between yours. “M’s’posed to watch out for ya.”

You shook your head. “You and me. This. Us. We’re a team. We watch out for each other.” His lip quivered so slightly that you almost missed it but you chose to leave it be. “That’s the deal, Dixon. You’re never getting rid of me.” A tear slid down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had started to cry. Daryl pulled away the hand you had never released and reached to wipe away the moisture with his thumb before wrapping his fingers around the side of your neck to pull you down. 

It wasn’t your first kiss but like every one before it, it stole your breath. His lips moved against yours softly while he raised his hand from your neck to place it back against your cheek. Too soon, the moment ended and you sniffled away anymore tears while your forehead rested against his. 

“M’okay with that.” He said quietly. “Not gettin’ ridda ya.”

You noticed the hint of a smile when you laughed. “You may change your mind about that when you see the hot pink thread I used to stitch up your thigh.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and pulled you down for another kiss. “Yeah, might want a refund after all.”