#nathan could swallow him whole.

[sciderman]

wade's a twink cuz i said so. i think twink should become vague like hot girl summer. a lifestyle rather. and wade gives me twink vibes

y'all seen him standing next to nathan summers?? his wholeass body is smaller than nathan's arm. that's a twink.

[therealcocoshady]

Family ties (commission)

A/N : hey guys ! It’s been a while since i posted anything so I thought I would share a piece I wrote for a commission 💕. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the kind patron who commissioned this & allowed me to share it on the blog as well ! 🙏🏻 

CW : Family tensions - Mention of pregnancy

The whole family was gathered around the dining room table, enjoying being reunited for the first time in a while. To be fair, having everyone under the same roof at the same time was no small feat, everyone’s busy schedules always clashing. The group chat had been a mess for weeks, trying to set a date for that much needed family reunion. Marshall had been working even more than usual and, though he clearly loved his job, he needed family time to keep him grounded. And one important thing for him was making sure that everyone felt included. Growing up, his family life has been chaotic and, now that he was blessed with his own, he wanted to make sure that no one felt left out. Whether it was his daughters and his brother, their partners and kids, or you, he wanted everyone to feel at home.

Ever since he’d bought it, the house had become the whole family’s safe haven, and especially his. As a workaholic, it was the only place that made him feel at peace, and it was even better when he could gather the people he loved the most around him. You were sat next to him, fitting like you’d always been in his life. Nathan was placed opposite to you, cracking jokes with his sons, while Alaina shared some gossip with Stevie. Everything felt good- almost perfect, even. Almost. Ever since she’d walked into the house, Hailie had barely looked up from her phone. You’d tried to make conversation, but all your attempts had been met with a polity but frosty smile. Your own grin had faltered each time, though you’d done your best to mask your hurt. In the few years you had been in a relationship with Marshall, you had done your best to get to know everyone and bond with the people he loved most, especially his daughters. But no matter what you tried, Hailie’s warmth seemed to remain out of reach.

Later that night, while everyone was leaving, Marshall noticed you walking upstairs after saying your goodbyes. When he finally closed the door, he went to meet you in your shared bedroom, finding you brushing your hair, your face reflected in the dim light of the mirror. You were quiet, visibly lost in your own thoughts. « Hey babe, » he began, gently closing the door behind him. « What’s up? ». You set your brushed down and met his eyes in the mirror, giving him a small and weary smile. « Nothing, my love », you replied though your voice slightly wavered, betraying you in the process. He shook his head, not buying it and moved closer, resting his hands on your shoulder. « Don’t do that, Y/N. Don’t lie to me. I can tell when something’s bothering you ».

You swallowed dryly and turned to face him. Your expression seemed softened by both frustration and sadness. « Look, I… I don’t mean to be difficult or cause issues, but Hailie… She doesn’t seem to like me. I’ve tried everything, Marshall, I swear. I thought if I tried hard enough, I’d get through to her eventually », you said before pausing, swallowing the emotion in your throat. « But it’s like nothing I do matters. She… I don’t know. It feels like I’m not good enough for her ».

Marshall sighed, his heart feeling like it was being split in two. He could see how hard you had been trying to connect with his daughters, and he knew how much it hurt you that Hailie remained so distant. But he knew her well—her protective nature, her loyalty. She had been through so much with him, and any woman who entered his life had to clear that bar in Hailie’s eyes, even if it was an invisible one. More often than not, her suspicions had eventually been confirmed. He hadn’t brought tons of ladies home, making a point to only introduce important people to his family but, unfortunately, his daughters, Hailie especially, ended up having front row seat to witness just how unlucky he was.

« It’s not that you’re not good enough, babe » he said softly. « You’re amazing. But Hailie… She’s used to being the one looking out for me. She’s seen people come into our family and everything being ruined because… Well, you know. The fame. The media. The money. So, now, she’s got this guard up and it’s hard for her to let people in, you know? ». You nodded in understanding but couldn’t help let out a sigh. « But I’m not ‘people’, Marshall. I’ve been with you for years. We live together now. I want to be with you more than anything. But it’s hard when it feels like your daughter can barely stand to speak to me ». Your voice trembled, your pain raw and honest. « Things are great with everyone. I love your family. I love Alaina and Stevie. And I want to love Hailie too. But no matter what I do, no matter how happy I make you, it’s never going to be enough for her ».

Marshall wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and pressed a kiss to your temple. « You’re enough, my love. More than enough. And Hailie… She’s been my rock in this family for a long time. We went through a lot and I guess she’s always felt like she had to protect me, in a way. But I’m sure that, eventually, she will come around ». You sighed again, before nestling your head against his shoulder. « I get it. I do. But I wanted tonight to be perfect ». He nodded and stroked your back, feeling the weight of the situation press heavily on him. Finally, he pulled back and looked into your eyes. « Hailie’s coming back tomorrow. She wanted to have a look at her old baby stuff, see what she could pass on to her baby. I’ll talk to her, ok ? But… Can you give her some time? I promise you, she will come around ». You gave a small nod, though doubt lingered in your gaze. « Of course. Whatever you need. All of you ».

The next morning, Hailie came back to the house. They sat on the back porch, drinking tea and coffee. You were inside the house, minding your own business, not wanting to intrude, so Marshall decided to take this opportunity to have a talk with his daughter. There was a bit of silence before he spoke, choosing his words as carefully as possible. « You know… Y/N is very important to me ». Hailie’s expression grew more serious, her gaze shifting to the yard. « Yeah, Dad. I know. You’ve said that before ». Marshall hummed and scratched his throat. « Yeah. And she really cares about our family, too. All of you guys. But… You’re kind of distant, Bean. And it bothers her ». Hailie let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, though her eyes showed a hint of vulnerability that struck a chord with him. « It’s not that I don’t like her, Dad. She seems nice. But… It’s different, now. For so long, it was just us. ». He nodded and put his arm around her. « It hasn’t changed. It’s still us. Our family. But Y/N has been with me for a while and I think she deserves to be part of it. I want her to. And she wants to be there for everyone. So it’s mean a lot to her if you have her a chance ». Hailie nodded slowly, her face softening. « I’ll try, Dad. I promise ». Marshall gave her a squeeze, feeling a sense of cautious relief. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. And he was willing to wait for as long as it took. As long as you were by his side, he knew it would be worth it.

In the following weeks, however, life decided to put in its very own plot twist, adding a dash of despair to the wait.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers tightly wrapped around the pregnancy test in your hand. You’d kept it hidden for days, though you grabbed it from your nightstand every so often, so that you could stare at the two lines. As if they were going to talk to you and give you enough courage to tell Marshall. But every time you had tried to find a moment, your courage had crumbled. In the past year and a half, the two of you had toyed around with the idea of having kids. Before getting together, neither of you thought it was in the cards but, with time, the idea of creating life together started to make sense. Yet, there was a lot going on in your lives, making the family planning challenging and, ultimately, the two of you had ended up taking the « whatever happens, happens » approach. Basically, not overthinking it, and not making a big deal of forgetting protection.

In the past, he’d told you that, if you got pregnant, he would gladly welcome the news but, now that he was a few months away from being a grandpa, you weren’t too sure how he would feel about having a baby. Ever since Hailie shared her big news, everyone had been talking about how Marshall was about to enter his ‘grandpa era’, a transition he hadn’t exactly warmed to overnight, though he was happy for his daughter, but he was beginning to wear it proudly. He’d been so visibly moved, embracing his role as a soon-to-be grandfather, and everyone seemed thrilled by the idea. You were happy for him. You knew how much he had gone through to give his family a good life, trying to provide for them and make them happy. He deserved more than anyone to enjoy the new stage of his life and, as someone who loved him deeply, you were just glad you could see him happy and share his joy. But now, you were terrified and feeling guilty. The last thing you wanted was to ruin it for him, and everyone else in the family.

Later that night, you were in bed with Marshall next to you, reading a book while he was scrolling on his phone, his presence calm and comforting. He looked up, giving you a warm, easy smile. « You’ve been quiet tonight. Most of the time, you can’t go through ten pages without telling me about what happens. How am I supposed to pretend I’ve taken up reading if you don’t help me keep up with the plot? » he mused. You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you finally looked into his eyes. You could feel tears beginning to form in your eyes, your words feeling stuck in your throat. « Marshall… There is something I need to tell you », you whispered, your voice shaking. He immediately put down his phone, his full attention on you, worry filling his eyes. « What’s going on, baby? You can tell me anything, you know that. » You looked down, unable to meet his gaze. « I’m… I’m pregnant. ».

For a moment, silence filled the room. You could feel his gaze on you, searching, but you couldn’t bring herself to look up, a wave of emotions seemingly flooding your whole being. « I’m so sorry, Marshall. I know you weren’t expecting this. Not now… not when you’re about to be a grandfather. I know it’s probably the last thing you wanted.». You finally looked up, and much to your surprise, Marshall’s expression wasn’t one of shock or hesitation, but a look of pure disbelief. « Wait… » he said, his voice low and almost reverent. « Say that again ». You blinked, slightly taken aback, but obliged nonetheless. « I-I’m pregnant, Marshall. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this, and I know we weren’t exactly trying. And… I also know the timing really sucks, and maybe you don’t want-».

« No, no, stop, » he interrupted, holding up his hand with a slight shake of his head. His eyes were wide, a glint of something you couldn’t quite place filling them. « Say it again. » You stared at him in disbelief. You could feel a lump in your throat and your cheeks warm with both fear and confusion. In the moment, you weren’t not sure if he’d recently had a concussion you were unaware of, that would explain his lack of sense. « I’m pregnant », you repeated in a trembling voice. A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes lighting up in a way you hadn’t seen before. He shook his head slightly, chuckling, and you realized he was close to laughing. Now, you were pretty sure he had early onset dementia. « Marshall? Are you alright? » you asked, confused. « Are you okay? Because, Y/N, there is no way I’m letting you give me the best news of my life in that tone, » he said, his voice filled with wonder. He pulled you into his arms, his hands on your shoulders, his grin so wide it made your heart race. « Say it again. But this time, say it happy. Please. I want you to feel it. »

You could feel your eyes flooding with tears, but this time, they weren’t from fear or guilt. They were from a surge of relief, from feeling the warmth of his reaction, from seeing the excitement in his eyes. « I’m pregnant, » you whispered, your voice catching as a joyful smile broke across your face. « We’re having a baby. » He pulled you close, and he laughed—a real, joyful laugh. You could feel his happiness radiating through him as he kissed your forehead, whispering, « I can’t believe this. This is everything. You’re everything. » In that moment, you could feel the fear and doubt melt away, replaced by the warmth of his love and devotion. He held you close for a while, the joy of your surprise announcement still glowing in the room. He was unable to let go of you, his hands gently tracing patterns along your back, as if reassuring yourself this was real. You nestled into his embrace, your earlier fears now just a distant memory. Finally, with a soft chuckle, he shifted and looked down at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. « So, » he started, tilting his head in that half-cocky, half-vulnerable way that you knew meant he was about to ask something big. « Since you’re carrying my baby, does this mean you’ll finally let me put a ring on that finger? ». You blinked, caught off guard by the question, before shaking your head with a laugh. « Marshall… ».

« What? » he teased, feigning innocence. « I’ve asked before, you always said no, and I let it go. But now? ». He paused, a flash of earnestness in his gaze. « Now things are different. » You sighed, a smile creeping across your face as you brushed a tear from your cheek. « You know I don’t think marriage is necessary, and I told you that ages ago. ». He nodded, his grin still very much in place. « Yeah, » he admitted, his voice softening as he pulled you closer, his hand on your stomach now as though anchoring you both to the new reality you were stepping into together. « But that didn’t stop me from wanting it. From wanting to be a family with you.»

You felt a pang, remembering how he’d looked the last time he’d asked. It had been a quiet night, just the two of them talking about their dreams, when he’d casually mentioned he could see himself spending forever with you, maybe even making it official. But you had shut it down, saying marriage wasn’t something you’d ever wanted. Back then, you had just moved in together and you were still trying to navigate your relationship with his family, whom you had only met recently. You hadn’t known, at the time, how much that might have hurt him. Or how serious he had been, either since none of his mentions of marriage had actually ended up in him getting on one knee or asking the exact question. They’d always been mentions in passing, nothing more. But now, you could see how serious he was.

« Marshall… » you began, reaching up to touch his face. « I’m not saying no. Maybe I could be convinced. Eventually. But don’t even think about doing anything like that right now, » you warned, your tone both playful and serious. « Why not? » he asked, grinning mischievously. You rolled your eyes and gestured at yourself, your hair tousled, your face all blotchy from crying, still in your old, worn pajamas. « Because I’m in my PJs and I’ve spent the whole day bawling my eyes while you were in the studio. I feel like shit and there is no way that’s how I’m letting you ask for my hand ». He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. « Fine. You’ve got a point, » he conceded, though he didn’t look entirely deterred. « But just so you know, it’s happening someday. Whether you’re in PJs or a ballgown. We’re doing this. » His hand moved to your belly again, his eyes full of a gentle certainty. « Because you’re my forever, Y/N. Baby or no baby, grandkids or no grandkids. You’re my family. I want this with you. »

Your heart swelled, his words wrapping around you like the safest promise you’d ever heard. You took his hand, giving it a light squeeze. « I want this with you too, Marshall. All of it. So… maybe I’ll give you the green light to propose. » His smile softened, and he held you even closer, his voice barely a whisper as he assured you, « I can’t wait. »

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

HI FEN do you have any hcs about nathan + carving pumpkins?? like I think that'd be the only thing he'd wanna do for spooky season but also he'd probably Suck At It and i just wanna knowwww

i'm sure your ask box is exploding so it's ok if you don't get to it ily

Firstly, I love you. Secondly, this is intentionally late (I hope that will make sense when reading <3). Thirdly, I love you some more!

Nathan Bateman x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Nathan's been working himself too hard and is a little forgetful.

Warnings: Swearing, overworked Nathan, teasing, references to sex chairs and porn, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 517

You pause as you enter the kitchen and take in the sight before you. 

Nathan is sat at the table, crouched over a pumpkin. 

“You okay there?” You ask, a little hesitantly. 

His head wipes around to look at you, a pained expression on his face.

“You alright?” 

“This is disgusting.” He pulls a face. 

“What, erm, what are you actually going there?” 

He moves to the side, showing you the pumpkin he was trying to deseed on the table. He waves his hands at you, showing a pair of blue plastic gloves he has on. “Even through these, it’s gross. I hate it.”

You nod a little, “Why are you cutting up a pumpkin like that?” 

He looks at you like you’re a lesser lifeform. “It’s Halloween.” 

You let his words hang in the air for a moment, “It’s November.” 

“What?”

“The 14th.” 

“What?” He stares at you incredulously. “It is not.” 

“You see,” You swallow, savouring his outrage, “Nathan, normal people-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He folds his arms and then grimaces as wet, gloved hands touch his skin and quickly unfolds them. 

“Normal people, you know, those that are normal.” You walk towards him and sit down next to him.

“I’m holding a knife you know.” He scowls and you smile sweetly. 

“Normal people have phones, that tell them the dates and times, they have the date on their computers, the watch the news and look at-”

He holds his hands up, “Alright, I get it, I get it.” He scowls a little. “I just wanted to…”

“Wanted to?” 

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I just wanted to do some, you know, holiday shit with you. Thought you’d like it.” 

You’re a little touched by the thought, but then you frown. “Nathan, you know I had time off, literally around Halloween, so that I could go home and spend it with people. You complained the whole time that you were lonely, and sent me that video of you on that sex chair you made.”

He pauses. “That was on Halloween?” 

You shove him playfully in the arm, but you can see the flush of colour in his cheeks. He genuinely had lost track of the days.

You rest your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around him. “You’ve been working too hard.” 

“Hmm.” He mumbles, obviously not happy. 

“Hey,” you stroke his cheek as you sit up, “I’ll carve the pumpkin with you, we can have Halloween 2.” He gives you a little smile, “Electric boogaloo?” 

You snort. “Electric boogaloo… we can watch that later if you want.” 

“No, I wanna watch some terrible mock horror porn.” He says in mock seriousness.

You giggle, “You got something in particular in mind?” 

He nods, “Oh yeah, you’ll like it, I promise.” 

You watch his face for a second, “Is this actual, you know, professional porn, or is this something you made yourself?”

“Are you saying my videos aren’t professional?” 

“You’ve got good lighting in them, that’s for sure.” 

He grins happily as you scrape out the pumpkin seeds with a spoon.

Thank you for reading!

(My taglist is too long now for tumblr to work right, which is very humbling, so I'll be adding them in a reblog.)

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[tokiwarcube]

Hello! I've discovered your blog recently and your writing is really good! Can I request nsfw headcanons for dethklok (if you don't write for all of them it can be either Nathan, Pickles or Murderface) about the reader being a Dom? Nothing to harsh but maybe just leading them or taking initiative after a difficult day.

If you're not comfortable with this it's okay! Thanks for reading anyway, have a great day ♡♡

Hello my love! I realized about halfway through that you had actually wanted headcanons (the cons of writing in an area without WiFi, I suppose.) so this ended up turning into a set of drabbles... but please, feel free to resend this if you want headcanons still, too! <3

Nathan Explosion

Silence, marred only by the labored breaths of your lover, clouds the room with a lustful air so thick its almost suffocating. His chest heaves from his kneeling spot on the floor, sweat glistening in the dim lighting. You can’t see his expression from your place above him — His hair falls down against his chest in rivulets, obscuring his face with a dark shadow. Although you suppose you could hazard a guess, with how long you’ve been at this.

“Nathan.”

His dick twitches between his legs at your voice, and he leans forward on his knees just a fraction. A single drop of precum runs down his shaft at the movement — achingly hard after your hours of teasing. And yet, he refuses to ask for what he wants. Instead, his larger hands move up your calves, up and up towards your thighs. It’s slow, cautious. You watch for a moment, savoring the submissive trepidation, before growing tired. The ball of your foot meets his chest, pushing him back firmly, and his hands drop to his lap for what seems like the millionth time tonight. Black tresses sway, revealing the flush adorning his cheeks and his averted eyes. Whether it’s from shame or embarrassment you can’t quite tell, although the reasoning doesn’t really matter to you.

Only the fact that he’s still not following the rules of your arrangement.

His chest heaves beneath your touch, fingers twitching in his lap. A pause. And… nothing. You sigh, dropping your foot and leaning forward. Carding your hand through his hair you wrap your fingers around the strands, pulling firmly to force his eyes to meet yours. And oh, what a sight it is.

His pupils nearly swallow his eyes whole — loving and needy. His bitten lips part, panting worsening under your unwavering gaze. Open. Close. Swallow. He leans forward yet again, although this time, his hands stay at his sides — he’s learning, but not quite fast enough for your taste.

“Words, Nathan.”

Pickles the Drummer

The party on the other side of the wall falls into a dull thrum, voices muffled less by the drywall and more from the needy groans that bleed from the throat of your lover. Your index and middle frames his cock, wet and twitching with every word you murmur into his ear, and his hips roll feverishly against you. As much as you’ll allow, anyways. His hips are all about all that he can move with how you’ve caged him against the wall, forearm pressed tightly against his chest to keep him pinned. You suspect you might bruise a bit tomorrow with how hard his hand grips you, although with the show he’s putting on for you, you can’t find it in you to complain. His head knocks against the wall, exposing the column of this throat, and you have half the mind to bite down on the tender skin. You file the thought away for later — tempting, but then you’d have to pull your gaze away from him, and how could you miss a sight like this? His tie was loosened long ago, top buttons of his shirt undone and pants pulled down to his mid thigh for just that extra bit of room.

And of course, for the extra risk.

Anyone could walk by and see how malleable he is in your hands, how easy it is for you to take him apart — the evidence would be undeniable. Disheaveled, flushed, panting, and humping your hand like a dog. You smile and lean forward to ghost a kiss across his lips, faint and sweet, but pull away before he can actually reciprocate. The mean move draws a whine from his throat, and you press him just a bit firmer against the wall in warning.

“Stay quiet baby, don’t wanna get caught tonight.”

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Candlelight glimmers off the stark white walls, casting dancing shadows and heavenly light against your limbs, intertwined. It brings with it a sort of warmth — a stark contrast to the sweat-slicked, cool skin of your lover. You run your hand slowly up his spine before winding your hand meanly through his hair, coaxing him into an arch as you thrust forward. The strangled moan he releases is heavenly, and his hand comes up to cover his mouth soon after. The tips of his ears flush just as rapidly — from embarrassment? Pleasure? You’d hazard its a bit of both, as when you pull back to thrust again he drops the silencing digits to instead scramble for purchase against the satin sheets. The fabric scrunches in his white knuckled grip, warping further with each of your own movements.

Strands held tight in your grasp, pulled more taught with each successive thrust, he’s held too stiff to bury his head in the pillows — treating you to all of his pretty little noises. Every gasp, then moan, then whine as you pull him apart bit by bit. His hips rock back against your strap eagerly, finally chasing his high of his own accord, and you grin.

“Go on baby, give me a show.”

Toki Wartooth

It’s not often that you get him like this, all splayed out and pretty. His cheeks are flushed, eyes hooded as he gazes up at you. He leans up, searching, and you can’t help but give in and kiss him yet again, lips tilting upwards into the connection. It’s sweet, not unlike your typical kisses with Toki — but the tenderness in your movements is novel for the bedroom. The laziness, saccharine and heady, as you work your hand over his cock — taking him apart bit by bit.

Toki has always maintained some level of control in the bedroom — it’s taken a long time to get him to this point at all. Plenty of patience played a role in that, and while you don’t think you’ll ever reach the same level of bruising grips and commanding words that he brings to the table with you, you savor the modicum of submission he’s trusted you with. You run your hand down his side, gently quelling his bucking hips, and his breath shudders against your lips.

“Such a good boy for me, huh, baby?”

Willliam Murderface

William is deceptively strong — it’s a fact that most, including himself, don’t realize. You take the time to appreciate the muscle along his arms, tensing with every harsh thrust you grace him with. His fingers flex in the curls of his hair, forearms covering his expression, although he can’t seem to control the whines that fall from his mouth. You grin, gripping his hips a bit tighter for leverage, and pressing just a bit further into him. It’s a fine line he walks — cover his face, or his noises? He’s always been sensitive, but this? Oh, you could keep him pinned beneath you all day, panting and whining just like this. You think he could cum untouched if you just angle yourself just a bit—

You take his wrists in your hold, bunching them in your hands before thrusting forward yet again using his own body against him for leverage. It’s then that you see his expression, drooling and flushed under your touch. His eyes widen at the movement, and then the pleasure, mouth parting invitingly. You have half the mind to run your thumb along his waiting tongue, just to see what he’d do, but instead you savor his dazed expression. You smile again, peering down at him from beneath your eyelashes.

“Eyes on me baby. Let me see that pretty face, yeah?”

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 35

Summary: Negan tries to come to terms with the fact that Y/N is alive. Part of him still believes that he is having a hard time understanding reality, but after talking about his children he comes to a decision that he thinks we will be best for his family.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Evie, Nathan, Judith, Gabriel, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/146636404

Notes: I've had this ready for weeks, I just forgot to put it up. Thanks again to those that still take the time to read this! It will be over soon.

“You’ve been quiet,” Y/N whispered, her fingers drawing circles over the center of Negan’s chest while she played with the dark curls of hair that were there. “That’s not normal for you. I could say things have changed, but considering how you wouldn’t shut up when you first got here, I’d say that you being quiet is a bad thing.”  

“It’s not a bad thing, it’s just…I’m starting to wonder if I’m dead now,” Negan inhaled sharply having her lift her head up from his chest to give him a disappointed look. Especially since he had already told her that he thought she was real. “I know I said I thought you were real and I still do. Mostly. It’s just…this is fucked up Y/N. After I thought you died, this has all just been too perfect. You have to understand why my brain is having a hard time. Especially after all the shit I went through.”

“I don’t think this would be my definition of perfect,” she retorted, lifting her head enough to look around The Sanctuary. Holding her hand out, it had Negan looking at the area around them and she wasn’t wrong. This was a shithole. And they were laying in the one part that she managed to clean up a small amount. Lowering her head back down onto his shoulder, she outstretched her hand and allowed her fingertips to sweep over Negan’s neck where the scar was left from Rick cutting his throat. It had him inhaling sharply and his eyes came to a tight close. “More so a case of just being lucky. Both of our stories seem a little like they are bullshit.”

“How so?” Negan grunted, his eyes opening again when her fingers dragged down over the center of his chest. “Mine is completely honest. Yours is the one that sounds like an extravagant thriller film. And you being a little mini super soldier now…?”

“So most people get their jugulars cut and live?” Y/N reminded him of what he had told her about what happened to him and he huffed. “Especially in this day in age? My story seems farfetched, but so does yours. And yet…” she took her time to think things out. “They are both real.”

“Fucking touché. I’m just saying. It’s crazy to think that the one day I sneak out of Alexandria to try and see if there something more for our children I get here and I find you,” Negan stressed, his Adam’s apple bouncing with his voice raspier than normal. “I can’t be that lucky.”

“It’s one day of luck for you,” she reminded him, pushing up to balance her weight so she could look down at him. “For me, it’s been months. I would stay here for days on end, go back to the farm to get supplies and then come back. Just hoping that I would find something that would lead me back to you and the children. So it may be the perfect story for you, but for me, it was me being here every day getting that much closer to giving up.”

Instead of responding, Negan just frowned and swallowed down anything else that he wanted to rebuttal with because he could see that she was getting emotional about the whole thing.

“Perfect for me would have been coming back here, going to the farm and seeing my husband there with our two children doing exactly what he promised me,” she stressed and he felt an ache at the center of his chest realizing that she was right. “Instead…”

“You come here for months and then find me with a disappointing haircut where you knock my ass unconscious,” Negan rumbled with a frown, his head dropping to the side to stare out at her with his saddened, big, hazel eyes. At first, her face scrunched up before she dropped down and buried her head against the center of his chest. Having her laughing against his flesh tickled and he let out a tense sound. “You have to understand that I still remember you asking me for help to protect yourself.”

“And it’s been almost eight years where a majority of that was spent with me training,” she pointed out with a grumble, her hand reaching for his. Hooking her fingers with his, she saw the scars over his hand and brought it closer to her so she could kiss over it. “What happened here?”

“A gun exploded in my hand,” Negan explained with a long sigh seeing her tracing over the mark with her thumb. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is with you,” she responded and it had Negan huffing out.

“What about all of your scars?” Negan curled his arm around her tighter with his fingertips brushing over the tattoo that was there to cover up the one and only scar that he actually knew the answer of.

“Battle wounds,” she was quiet in the way she responded and Negan frowned. “The one on my other shoulder is a gunshot. The ones of my face are from fights. Some cuts I got from knives…”

“And the one under your bellybutton?” Negan found himself curious, but the expression she made when she looked up at him showed him that she was uncomfortable. “Was it that bad?”

“It had to deal with the tests that they did on me,” she explained in a whisper and it had Negan reaching up to sweep his thumb in over her jawline. “It was hell getting back here Negan. It was nothing but pain and misery. So for you this might seem perfect, but for me? It feels like something I deserve after everything I’ve gone through.”

“Fair enough,” Negan stammered with his throat tensing up and he felt guilty hearing that. During his time in that cell, he thought he went through incredible amounts of suffering, but from what she told him? She went through worse. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you, I don’t really want to hear that Negan,” she reminded him, palming her hand down over the lengths of his abdomen which had him taking in a sharp breath. “I don’t want to think about my past anymore. I don’t want to be angry. I just want to be with my family again and live as much of a normal life as I possibly can.”

“Which reminds me…” Negan cleared his throat, his chest aching that he was thinking about things other than having her in his arms like this right now. “More than anything, I want to just stay like this for a while. Have you in my arms, naked and feeling more alive than I have in a very long time. But I made a promise to Evie and I know she has to be freaking out right now.”

“Okay. So what’s the plan then?” she whispered, her hand sliding down to caress in over Negan’s lower abdomen before sliding up to palm in over the side of his face drawing him to look down at her. “What are we doing? How are we getting them out of there tonight?”

“That’s the thing,” Negan started, his body tensing up when he eyed her over. “I snuck out of Alexandria after seven years. They aren’t going to be okay with me just leaving. They are going to have people out searching for me. And they will be out to kill if they see me. Not many people there care too much for my well being. After me leaving, I know they are going to be watching our children closely. I was never supposed to leave that cell. That was the plan. We can’t just show back up there and get our children. I’m not going to risk our children getting hurt and I won’t risk you getting hurt either because of these people.”

“Trust me, no one is going to be hurting me,” she stressed which had Negan grumbling to himself, curling his arm tighter around her waist to pull her closer to him. Hooking her leg over his had him sighing with her warmth surrounding him.

“Yes, I know. You’re a badass now, which turns me on incredibly fucking much. But we don’t need you slaughtering a whole town in order to get our children out of there,” Negan reasoned with her hearing her scoff. Dropping his head back, Negan looked down at her with his hazel eyes narrowing when she lifted her head up toward him. “You sound disappointed that I won’t let you slaughter a whole town in order to get our children out of there.”

There was a silence that was between the two of them and Negan shifted with a tension in his body, “We also don’t want our children to get hurt in the process.”

“Then what’s your plan, Negan?” she exhaled loudly, lowering her head back down to pepper faint kisses over the freckles that covered his shoulder that was closest to her. “How do we make this work?”

“Did you really think slaughtering a whole town was the way?” Negan was shocked that she didn’t seem to flinch at the idea of it.

“I told you, I’ve had to do…things,” she swallowed down, trying to avoid the judgement that he was undoubtedly giving her over her response to things. “The only thing that matters to me right now is being with you and the children. So whatever I have to do in order to get back to our children, I will.”

“And you really think you can take down an entire town?” Negan was curious that she truly believed in herself that much. “We can’t do that. There are innocent people in that town. And I know you, you got mad at me for doing what I did at The Sanctuary.”

“Times change Negan,” she declared with a frown, showing that they both clearly had a lot to talk about in the future. “But you’re right. Innocent people shouldn’t get hurt over a few rotten ones. So what do you think is going to work here?”

“I can only think of one way right now. And you aren’t gonna like it,” Negan stammered, his jaw clenching when her kisses over his chest came to a slow halt. “Right now, the number one thing that matters to me is our daughter. I love you so fucking much and I’m still having trouble believing this whole thing is real, but our daughter still beats herself up every day over you passing away. The whole point of leaving here was to find a place for our children. Now I know that you have the farm up and running. There is a place for our children. But most of all, I think Evie needs to know that you are alive. Nathan doesn’t even remember you Y/N. They both need their mother. They need their mother more than they need their father.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she was genuinely curious where he was headed with what he was about to say.

“I think that I should take you back to Alexandria with me. I go back in that cell. You get to be with our children. They are living in a house alone as it is. You do what you do best and you fit in. When the time is right, we get the fuck out of there,” Negan responded with a simple shrug of his shoulders and he could already tell by the expression on her face that Y/N hated it. “I really think that’s the only way at this point Y/N. It’s the only way to keep everyone safe in this situation. I don’t want to kill anyone else and I don’t want you or the children taken from me. I’ve already gone this long without you and I don’t know how much more time I have left in this world.”

“There has to be another way. You shouldn’t have to be locked up like an animal,” she reasoned with Negan hearing him sigh loudly.

“It’s the quickest way to get you back to Evie. You’ve been looking for the children every day for months. Evie has been suffering for seven years. You get to be with your family. You earn your place in that town and when they get comfortable with you, we find our way out,” Negan repeated what he said, his chest aching at the idea of having to go back to that cell after being stuck there for so long. It was just the only way everything seemed to work out. “Just don’t tell them your story because I feel like they will freak out and they might be scared of you.”

“Which part?” she frowned, pushing herself up into a seated position. Drawing his hand up the side of her body, Negan stroked his fingers around over her lower back before shrugging.

“All of it?” Negan’s nose wrinkled, biting down firmly onto his bottom lip when she smirked. “I mean, people aren’t going to understand the whole super soldier thing and that there are three towns that are ran just like they were back in the day…”

“Two now,” she corrected Negan who let out a long exhale, smiled and nodded his head slowly.

“Whatever it is, they are going to panic,” Negan suggested, pushing himself up onto his palms so that he was sitting up, his lips hovering over hers while he spoke. “And the whole being picked up by a doctor and being tested on thing might worry some people. They are going to wonder if you were or were not bit. People might want to lock you up themselves. I never told anyone what happened to you other than I lost you. Hearing you may have been bit would freak people out.”

“Does that scare you about me?” she wondered, her palm dragging down over the front of Negan’s chest toward his lower abdomen again. It had his eyes narrowing, a smirk tugging at his lips before he shrugged.

“You scare the shit outta me,” Negan rumbled, his lips faintly brushing against hers before humming. “But if you’re contagious and I’m gonna catch something by doing what we’ve done a few times today, then I’ll happily accept my outcome.”

“Solid answer,” she pat him on the chest hearing him chuckle right before she captured his lips in a kiss. Boldly flicking his tongue out against hers had her purring out. “You’re a brave man.”

“I’m a man in love that has been broken for years. It’s worth the risk,” Negan curled his arm around her waist to spin her around back onto the bed again. Starting to pepper kisses over her jawline, down her neck and further down her body had Negan humming out. “I don’t care about the details, I’m just happy that you’re here.”

Nipping at the flesh under her navel, Negan grunted out and tipped his head back to stare out at her, “So, do you agree with what I said?”

“I think there are better ways, but if that’s the only way you see this working,” she lowered her hand to sweep her thumb over Negan’s jawline. “Then I guess that’s what we will do. We just have to make a stop at the farm first.”

“For what?” Negan wondered, his face scrunching up and she rolled her eyes. “What?”

“Well, I’ve been checking in constantly with the family that lives there. I need to let them know that I’m going to be gone for a while,” she explained to Negan, her eyes narrowing out at him while she worked out what she would have to do in order to make his plan work. “They need to be able to hold down the fort while we’re gone so to speak. And prepare for when we come back. It’s going from four people to seven. You know just as much as I do there is enough space, but the guy staying there needs to know I’m not dead.”

“Good point, I guess,” Negan nipped at her hip before crawling back in over her hovering his lips over hers. “And there is nothing going on between you and this man?”

“Define nothing,” she teased him, her palms grasping firmly to the sides of Negan’s face. It had him frowning and she laughed. “You are so jealous.”

“I always have been,” Negan snorted, his nose wrinkling when he flicked his tongue out over her lips causing her to moan. “But with how eager you were to jump on my dick, I’d definitely say you haven’t had any in a while, so…”

“Way to take a romantic moment and spoil it,” she growled when she slid her fingers up over the back of his neck and frowned. “I miss your hair.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to work on letting it grow back,” Negan’s nose wrinkled, his body lowering down in over hers again stealing kiss after kiss from her lips. “No one was around to pull on it. So I kinda just did what felt good in the moment.”

“You’re still cute, I just like the hair,” she declared against his lips, palming down over the lengths of Negan’s long back. “I know you’re older…”

“We both are,” Negan corrected her, nuzzling his nose in against hers when he felt her squeezing at his naked bottom.

“I’m in better shape than you are,” she reminded him drawing an offended breath to fall from his lips. “Can you do another round and make the trip to the farm before going back to this Alexandria place. You seem kind of tired as it is.”

“One, I found a motorcycle before you whooped my ass,” Negan reached for her wrists, pushing them down firmly beside her on the bed hearing an amused laugh fall from her lips. “Two, I’m capable of more than you think and three, I have no idea when we will be able to do this again, so I’m not gonna miss up on the chance if you are offering.”

“Good boy,” she winced when his fingers squeezed firmly around her wrists, pinning her further against the bed. Once their eyes connected, she noticed the way that Negan’s expression softened and his wolfish smile faded to a saddened look. Releasing one of her wrists, Negan lowered his palm to cup her face lovingly bringing her to a lingering kiss. “What’s wrong?”

“You just have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” Negan whispered, his forehead pressing to hers when he nuzzled his nose to hers. “I should have never left you that day. That was my biggest mistake. I should have stayed by your side. We could have avoided all this pain. All this suffering…”

“You did what I asked of you,” she reminded him, but he shook his head and there was misery behind his eyes. “We don’t know if them taking me saved my life Negan. You can’t punish yourself over what you did and did not do.”

“I have been punishing myself since that day,” Negan claimed, the lines in his forehead growing. A loud exhale fell from his throat and he shook his head. “I don’t think you know how much losing you really broke me. I lost it with Lucille, but with you…?”

“I’m here,” she whispered when he let out a broken breath. Noticing that there were tears burning at his eyes made her let out a tremoring breath. Lifting up, she brought their lips together in another kiss when she realized that he was still extremely emotional over this whole thing. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“I’m going to worry every second because I know how much it hurt,” Negan reached for her hand to bring it to him. Faintly brushing his lips over the inside of her palm had her exhaling loudly and he shook his head. “Now that you’re here, I don’t ever want to imagine losing you again. Ever.”

----

“Wow,” Negan grumbled after bringing the motorcycle to a stop in front of where he knew that the farm he had convinced Y/N to get years ago was. It surprised him to see that the overgrown green, trees and some wood had hidden the entrance to it. “You really did hide this place.”

“A few years of overgrowth didn’t hurt,” Y/N pressed a faint kiss against Negan’s cheek, her fingers dragging across Negan’s lower abdomen when she got off the motorcycle. “So what is it that you want me to tell these people in Alexandria? I feel like our stories have to match.”

“You can be somewhat honest?” Negan suggested, curling his fingers tightly around the handlebars of the motorcycle. “Tell them that someone took you because they thought you needed help. They travelled across the country and you got stuck.”

“I feel like there has to be something more,” she scoffed, moving some of the green and disappearing under it slightly to push open an area of a manmade wall that was hiding the entrance to the farm. “They aren’t going to be okay with me just telling them I’ve been across the country for years.”

“These people have gone through a lot. I think they will believe just about anything,” Negan responded, moving the motorcycle forward when she urged him to move through the opening. Waiting for her once he got through, Negan waited for her to close things up. In that time, he looked back toward the home that he had convinced Y/N to get so long ago. A shocked breath escaped him seeing that there were crops growing, animals in the field and things looked healthy. Even the house did. “Holy shit.”

“What?” she stepped in beside Negan, dragging her hand down over the side of his face. Leaning into her touch, Negan sighed and cherished the warmth. Pressing a kiss over the center of her palm had her smiling.

“I just can’t believe how good this place looks,” Negan confessed getting off the motorcycle with a grunt. Sure, it look wore down in certain places, but who knows what happened between the time Rick attacked him and she returned. Walking the motorcycle up the long walkway with Y/N gave Negan time to look things over. “You guys really have been working nicely on it.”

“It didn’t take much to fix up. Plus, when I tell you I was prepared for the end of the world being fully stocked in the past, I mean it,” she stressed and it had Negan’s face scrunching up. Turning to him, her hand placed in over the center of his chest. Tipping up on her toes, she could tell that Negan was eyeing her over curiously and she shrugged. “What?”

“How so?” Negan breathed out which was followed by her peppering tiny kisses over his bottom lip. Happily accepting them, Negan’s hands fell to her hips while he held her close.

“Ah, that’s my secret to keep,” she tapped her fingers against his lips which made him frown. “I have my secrets. You have yours. There are some things on this land that only I know. And it will remain that way.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan scoffed, stepping forward to playfully smack at her bottom which had her gasping and swatting away his hands. “So tell me, is your bedroom still decent enough for us to maybe share a moment before we head off?”

“Yes, my bedroom is decent enough, but it’s going to get dark soon,” she grabbed a tight hold of his hands, finding amusement in the way he pulled her in closer to him. The warmth of his breath lingered over hers and she snickered. “Plus, we’ve already done that a lot today.”

“I can’t help it, the boys get back to work and they just want to keep going,” Negan looked down between them and she playfully hit at the side of his face making him snort. “I can’t help how I feel when I’m around you.”

“Well, I’m glad I don’t completely turn you off. I thought the whole CRM thing would turn you away and some of the scars…” she was honest, her smile fading slightly. “Not many men are okay with a woman that can whip their ass.”

“Oh, I love it. I like to be dominated,” Negan insisted with an amused wink. His palms curled around her ass and it had her stepping in closer to him. “It turns me on so much? And the scars? I think it only makes you hotter. We match.”

“Smooth,” she hooked her arms around his shoulders and tipped up to meet his lips in a passionate kiss again. “But you always were.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan rumbled hearing the sound of the front door opening drawing his eyes to lift. A little boy ran out onto the porch which had him releasing her from his grasp and pulling away from her lips with a wet sound.

“Y/N!” the little boy seemed to squee with excitement, jumping from the top step into her arms when she turned to face him. A laugh fell from her throat when she hugged the dark haired boy, who happily cuddled his head into the side of her neck. Following the boy out was a teenage girl and the man Y/N had been talking about. It had Negan stiffening up and he was uncomfortable. These were the people now living at their home. Negan’s eyes connected with the brown eyes of the stranger. The man was a little shorter than him with messy hair that went in front of his eyes. It was graying, but it matched well with his tanned flesh. This man wasn’t ugly. At all. He may have been slightly older than Negan, but looking at him made Negan uncomfortable. This was the guy that Y/N traveled with in order to find her way back? Something caught his attention when the teenage girl moved down the steps to hug Y/N as well. Something about the whole interaction made Negan uneasy. Back in Alexandria they had a teenage girl and a little boy waiting for her. These weren’t their children and they were embracing her like they were. It was strange seeing it when she hadn’t even gotten to be with their own children yet.

Y/N looked back at him and she was talking, but he was so lost in his own thoughts that he wasn’t exactly hearing her. It was probably her introducing him, but in this moment he just wanted to get Y/N back to the children. It felt wrong being here with people that he didn’t even know. In fact, he wished things would just move faster so they could leave. When the stranger held his hand up to wave at Negan, Negan mirrored the same motion and dropped his head down.

“Here we go,” Negan heard Y/N stammer when she set the little boy back down on the top step of the stairs and moved up to them to talk to the stranger. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay. We have to find a way to get our children out of a bad situation. It could take a while. Months maybe. But we’ll be back. All four of us.”

“We’ll be waiting for you,” the stranger stammered, his arm hooking loosely around the shoulders of the teenage girl that was standing beside him. The southern drawl was deep and Negan cleared his throat uneasily. Sure, he appreciated that these people helped Y/N return to him, but he didn’t know how he would handle living with a second family when they returned. “We’ll just keep doing what you taught us. Your family will have a place when you return.”

A soft tap was felt against Negan’s foot, pulling his attention away from what was happening. Looking down, he saw a ball had rolled off the porch and hit his foot. Lowering down, Negan grabbed the ball, his eyes lifting when he smirked at the sight of the little boy hiding behind the man’s legs. With a smirk, Negan kneeled down on the first step, an amused rumble falling from his throat when the little boy’s hazel eyes connected with his when his head pushed out to look at Negan. When he saw that Negan was there he swiftly went back to hiding and it made Negan laugh.

“Easton,” the man reached around him, to place his hand in over the center of the little boy’s shoulders to bring him up beside him. “He’s not gonna hurt you. This is the man that Y/N talked about.”

“Evie and Nathan’s daddy?” the boy looked up at the man that Negan had only just met and he nodded. Hearing that seemed to relax the boy when Negan outstretched his hand to hold out the ball. It took a minute for the boy to trust Negan before he stepped forward.

“Is this yours?” Negan questioned, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity and the boy nodded his head. “Easton, right?”

“Yeah,” the little boy nodded, his eyes lowering down showing how shy he was.

“I’m Negan,” Negan placed his hand in over the center of his chest giving the boy a big smile when Easton looked up at him again. Holding the ball out further, Easton looked back at the man looking for confirmation and it made Negan look to Y/N who was smirking while watching the interaction.

“You can get your ball buddy,” the thick southern accent fell from the man and Easton outstretched his hand to grab the ball from Negan. “Now say thank you.”

“Thank you,” Easton repeated, lowering the ball down at his side. There was a lot of fear in the boy’s eyes and Negan wondered if this boy had a lot of bad encounters with people making him weary of strangers.

“Do you like to play catch?” Negan tried to spark up a conversation with the boy, adjusting so he was still about the boy’s height so they could talk. Easton nodded, his eyes now locked on Negan’s. “My little boy loves to play catch. It’s one of his favorite things ever. We play all the time. He’s always trying to get someone to play with him. He loves it more than anything. Maybe when we come back, you would want to play with him.”

“I’d like that,” Easton responded with a half-smile, shifting on his feet when he looked down at the ball. “I haven’t had a lot of people to play with me.”

“Well, we’re gonna have to change that, huh?” Negan winked and it made the boy seem to relax more around him. “Do you know what soccer is? My daughter loves soccer and she’s really good at it too.” Easton shook his head when Negan slowly raised up into a standing position. “Well we’ll have to change that. She can teach you all about it when we come back.”

“That sounds fun,” the teenage girl moved in beside Easton to give his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“We need to go,” Y/N interrupted the moment, her fingers curling loosely around Negan’s arm when she got him to start backstepping with her. “It’s going to be dark soon, but I promise that we will be back. I don’t know when, but I promise.”

“You’ve never broken a promise,” the man reminded Y/N, his head tipping once when he reached down to pick up Easton to hold him close to his chest. “We’ll be here.”

They said their goodbyes and Negan walked his motorcycle back to the front with her. Looking over his shoulder, Negan watched the man interacting with the two children and he cleared his throat.

“Those are his children?” Negan gazed over the two children with the man feeling his chest aching watching them at the home he considered theirs. “They don’t really look like they are his.”

“That’s because they aren’t his,” she seemed distracted while she worked to get the door back open. It had Negan looking back over his shoulder at her and she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s complicated, but it’s the closest thing to a father that they have. They may not be blood, but they are family.”

“How so?” Negan saw the three of them heading back into the house and he huffed when she seemed irritated with him asking.

“His daughter died when the world fell to shit. He lost everything. The girl was alone, she needed saving and he saved her. They were together when I found them in Kansas City. He’s been taking care of her for a few years. He’s her dad,” Y/N threw her hand out toward where the three people Negan just met were standing previously.

“And Easton?” Negan wondered, his brow line creasing when Y/N shifted on her feet before him. “What about him?”

“He’s been with him for months,” Y/N sighed loudly, her arms folding out in front of her chest. “On the way here from Kansas City, I had to go back to Philadelphia to grab some things. I knew of places to sneak out and…in. I had to grab some things that were mine and Easton was there. He was at a military school. They were going to use him to do what they wanted. So we grabbed him too. He was far too little. He’s just seven years old…”

“I see,” Negan felt her moving forward to reach for his hands. Thinking about what she said, Negan tipped his head to the side and scoffed. “You went back to the place you were at originally? Wasn’t that dangerous?”

“No one recognized me. When I was there at first I looked…different. And I wasn’t always out in the public. They had me in these testing areas,” she stressed, her head bobbing about showing that she was uncomfortable with what she was telling him. “I kept my head down, I grabbed what I needed and we left. We came here and everything has been fine since. I just was missing my family.”

“And we can trust him?” Negan looked back toward the house again, but she grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. “I’m sorry babe, but you can’t blame me for asking.”

“Yes, I trust him with my life because he helped save my life on multiple occasions. He helped bring me here. To you,” she reminded Negan, palming in over the side of his face and having him leaning into her touch. “Can we go now?”

“Of course,” Negan sighed, lowering in to press a quick kiss over her lips before leading the motorcycle out after she pushed open the space for him. Waiting for her, Negan propped the motorcycle up and when she closed back the opening Negan grabbed a tight hold of her and kissed her repeatedly.

“Whoa,” she chuckled, a wet sound falling from between them when she tipped her head back. “What’s up?”

“I just love you, so much,” Negan swallowed down hard, his lips parting when he shook his head. “I need you to know that. I don’t know how much interaction the two of us are going to be able to have for a while so I need to get it in. You mean everything to me. And having you back here? Having you alive? It’s everything I’ve wanted, it’s a miracle.”

“Hey,” she hushed him, grabbing at the back of his hand and nodding her head. “I love you too. We’re going to make this work Negan. I promise you.”

“I hope so,” Negan frowned, nuzzling his nose in against hers. Leaving her with one final kiss, Negan went to head back to the motorcycle, but he realized that she wasn’t following him. Taking a glance back at her he could see that there was tension in her features. “Hey. What is it?”

“Do you think Evie and Nathan will be happy to see me?” she wondered, her eyes narrowing when Negan smirked and half laughed. “I’m serious Negan. It’s been a long time. You said yourself that Nathan doesn’t even know who I am. It’s scary being gone this long and away from them. I’ve missed them so much, but…”

“Evie has kept you alive through her stories to her brother,” Negan assured her, getting off the motorcycle after making sure it was safe to do so. Turning toward her, Negan reached for her hands and caressed over the back of them with his thumbs. “More than anything, I know Evie will be happy and relieved to see you. Not only did I break when you…disappeared, but so did she. You’d be very proud of her though. She’s stepped into the role of mom with Nathan. She’s the one that taught him how to talk. She’s the one that taught him to be a good boy. And she’s so fucking smart. Smarter than I ever was.”

Tears burned at her eyes when she lowered her head to watch Negan caressing over her hands in attempts to calm her, “And she draws you all the time. You, me, Lucille…”

“I look different,” she stressed and it had Negan smiling, stepping in closer to her. Lifting one hand, he swept his fingers in underneath her chin and shook his head. “Negan, I look older. You can tell I put a lot of stress on my body and I have scars…”

“You look exactly like you,” Negan hushed her, sweeping his thumb in over her bottom lip and shaking his head. “I have extra scars and I’m gray as can be right now. You are in better shape than I am. And I don’t question that.”

“I’m just afraid,” she admitted, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I want nothing more than to hold them in my arms again, but the idea that I may not be enough or that they have learned to live without me…”

“That would never happen. Those children need you, now more than ever,” Negan promised with a wink, squeezing her hand tightly in his before raising her hand up to press a loving kiss over the back of it. “I’m afraid every day. Because one day I’m worried that the love that those children have for me is going to leave. I know I’m not good enough for any of you, yet you all remain loving me. If you didn’t love something, you wouldn’t be afraid. The fear is what shows we are alive. It shows that we are passionate and we fucking love something.”

“Yeah,” she parted her lips, reaching up to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Negan.”

“You don’t need to thank me for just stating the truth,” Negan lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers giving her one final kiss before they got back on that motorcycle together.

The ride was quiet. Lots of things were spiraling through his mind. Questions that he had thought of with Y/N. Thoughts about the family they left on the farm. How he was going to get back into Alexandria without getting shot. That last one being the most important. Especially now with having to protect Y/N.

Those fears didn’t last long though because it wasn’t long before someone was shooting at them causing Negan to lose control of the motorcycle and slide off into the ditch. An automatic fear of Y/N getting hurt made him panic when he scrambled to check if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she waved her hand about, letting out a scoff when she pulled herself up into a seated position. Still, Negan seemed worried and she shook her head. “I’ve gone through a lot worse than that Negan.”

Hearing the sound of footsteps had Negan grunting out when he sat up straighter seeing Judith approaching, “Alright. Slow down kid. I know you said you’d shoot, but damn.”

“Whole lot of people out there looking for you. I told you that there was nothing out there for you,” Judith stressed and Negan dropped his head down to draw his thumb across his forehead.

“You sure as shit did,” Negan remembered what she had told him when he snuck out of Alexandria, but he looked back over his shoulder at Y/N who seemed uncomfortable with a child having a gun on them.

“Language! I’m a kid asshole,” Judith repeated back having Negan snort in response. Stealing another look back at Y/N, Negan shrugged his shoulders and started to get up.

“Yeah. You are. What can I say? I like to swear in front of my friends. People that know shit,” Negan stood slowly, his hand reaching out to grab a tight hold of Y/N’s hand to pull her up. “But there was something out there for me. I just don’t belong out there.”

“What do you mean?” Judith looked beyond Negan and he nodded toward Y/N.

“Do you not see her?” Negan wondered, throwing his hand up in the air and he saw the way that Judith was eyeing him over. With a grunt, he squeezed his hand tighter around Y/N’s. “Oh come on! She has to be real this time because after everything, I…”

“Negan,” Y/N interrupted him, her head shaking about when he looked to Judith with desperation flooding through his veins. More than anything he was panicked that he just made all of this up again in his head and he was batshit crazy.

“Of course I see her,” Judith shrugged her shoulders, her eyes scanning over Y/N and he let out a sound of relief. “Who is she?”

“She’s Nathan and Evie’s mother,” Negan answered, pulling Y/N in beside him and he still made sure that he was the one that was in front of the barrel of the gun that Judith was holding up.

“I thought she was dead,” Judith’s eyes gazed over at Y/N as if trying to determine if it was real.

“I told you, she went missing,” Negan stated, his fingers hooking tightly around Y/N’s to squeeze them. Glad that she was actually there and he wasn’t insane again. “I’ve gone over that story with you so many times. How I went back, she was gone…and…”

“You thought she was dead though,” Judith repeated and Negan was sad to agree with her, but she was right. “And you found her? How?”

“It’s kind of a complicated story,” Y/N answered for Negan, her body aching from the fall that it took with Negan on the motorcycle. “But you’re right about what you said. There is nothing out there for either of us. I haven’t seen my family in years and I’ve been looking for them. When they weren’t far from me this whole time.”

“I got a look at what’s out there and my family…her family, would be safer in Alexandria,” Negan thought aloud, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat when Judith thought over what they were saying. Carefully, Judith lowered the gun and nodded. “More than anything, Evie needs to know that her mother is alive.”

“I agree,” Judith nodded her head about looking between the two of them. “You’re going back to your cell, Negan.”

“I know,” Negan realized that was the only outcome that this led to, but he didn’t care if it meant returning Y/N to Evie and Nathan.

“We’re walking the rest of the way,” Judith threw her hand up pointing toward the area that Alexandria was. Keeping his fingers hooked with Y/N’s, Negan allowed Judith to lead the way knowing that she was their one way in with being safe and she was right.

Part of Negan felt guilty about this whole thing. For so long Judith had been waiting for her miracle and now one was happening, but it wasn’t her father. Hearing what they said is definitely the reason that Judith allowed them back in because the story was the same thing she wanted with Rick.

Once they got back to town, there were glares. Looks of confusion with Negan holding onto some stranger’s hand. There would be a lot of explaining. Negan knew that. He wished they would have planned it out a little better than they did, but all he could think about was Evie.

“Daddy,” Evie’s voice called out, drawing Negan’s fingers to loosen from Y/N’s hand. In the distance Negan could see that Evie was running out toward him. Almost instinctively he ran to her and allowed her to run into his arms. With how tightly she was holding onto him, he knew that Evie thought she was never going to see him again. “After you left, I got scared and…”

“It’s okay,” Negan whispered, pressing a loving kiss over her forehead hearing her crying against the center of his chest. A moment later, Negan felt another strength of a grasp wrapping around his lower half. Leaning back, he wrapped his arm around Nathan who had obviously seen Evie run off and he came as well too. This was the first time that Nathan had really been able to hug him the way that he was meant to be hugged. There were tears in Negan’s eyes. He wanted this moment, but this moment was not about him. “Evie…”

Gazing back over his shoulder, Negan saw that Y/N was standing there frozen. Tears were in her eyes and she looked like she was trembling at the sight of her family there.

“Evie,” Negan said her name once more, his hand reaching up to palm in over the side of her face. “There is something I found. Something that you need to see.”

Confusion filled her eyes when Negan pulled away from the both of them, side stepping to allowing Evie to get a look at what was there. Evie’s face went white. Her hazel eyes growing wide when she looked to Negan as if for confirmation that she was actually there. With a single nod, Negan watched as Evie stumbled forward toward Y/N.

“Mom?” she breathed out, a whimper falling from her throat. Nodding, Y/N let out a cry herself seeing how big Evie had gotten. How much she had truly missed in the years that she was gone.

“It’s me baby,” Y/N finally spoke and that was all it took. Evie fell into her arms and both of them lowered to the ground. There were no hiding the sobs that were coming from both of them while they hugged. “I’m here.”

“I don’t understand,” Evie brought her head back, her fingers tremoring when she traced over the scar that was left on her mother’s chin. “We thought you were dead. You were gone for so long and…no one could find you. Dad and I searched the farm, but…”

“It’s a long story where I ended up very far away,” Y/N described what happened in a very shortened way, her fingers brushing through her daughter’s dark hair while she tried to comfort her. “But I fought to make it back to all of you and your dad found me.”

“More like she found me,” Negan offered up with a whimpering breath himself, his arm hooking loosely around Nathan’s shoulders while they stood together. “Your mom is the impressive one in this story. Not me.”

“I am so sorry,” Evie apologized, her hand reaching up to curl around Y/N’s wrist. “I’ve thought about the way I was for so long. I didn’t understand things and I was so mean. I should have been telling you that I loved you every day because I know that you were doing everything that you could to take care of me. To take care of us. I love you mom. So much. When you were gone, I just…”

“No,” Y/N didn’t want Evie punishing herself anymore about things. “I’m here now. You don’t need to worry about then because there was one thing that always kept me strong and fighting. That was you Evie. You and your brother. So please, don’t beat yourself up over what happened. You couldn’t control what happened. No one could.”

Dropping her head forward, Evie cried against the side of Y/N’s neck and Y/N stroked her fingers over Evie’s shoulders to comfort her. Looking to Negan, Y/N almost didn’t know how to respond to this because it was overwhelming and very emotional.

“Dad?” Nathan’s voice was quiet, his eyes raising to look for his father for confirmation in things. “That’s her? That’s mom.”

“That’s your mom,” Negan bit down on his bottom lip with Nathan slowly stepping forward. When Y/N saw him, she lifted her free hand to motion him close. Uneasily, she touched the side of Nathan’s face and smiled.

“Look at my beautiful boy. You look so much like your father,” Y/N commented which drew Nathan in for her to be able to hug both of them. “My beautiful boy and my beautiful daughter.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” a voice muttered from behind Negan when he looked over his shoulder to see that Gabriel was standing behind him.

Without saying anything, Negan nodded and moved toward his family. He knew that he wouldn’t have a long time with them, but he lowered down to wrap his arms around them supportively in his grasp. This was everything he dreamt of and he couldn’t believe it was happening. The only problem was? He knew that he wasn’t going to be part of this equation much longer and that broke his heart.  

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @felicity291 @ibelongtonegan

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[bumblesimagines]

Midnight Beach

Part 20

Request: Yes or No

Taglist: @nathan-no @hyubg @ash455  @gills-lounge

~~~

"Jesus," A sharp exhale left him at the sight of the purple and green bruises scattered throughout Topper's face. He looked exhausted and pissed. (Y/N)'s nose crinkled at his swollen eye and he dug his teeth into his lip as the guilt began gnawing at him. It should've been him. "Shit, Top... I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Topper sucked in a breath, forearm flexing as he lifted the dumbbell and curled it toward his body. "I was tryin' to do the right thing. I didn't want the party to get ruined by a Pogue again. Now everyone's gonna think I'm weak."

"Nobody thinks you're weak, Top. They think John B's a psycho." If the angry social media posts made after the party held any truth to them, John B wouldn't be able to step on Figure Eight without risking getting jumped. (Y/N)'s thumb rubbed against the sore skin of his index finger. His knuckles tingled but the light pain reminded him things could've been worse had Topper not stepped in. The dirty blonde finally set his dumbbell aside and stood up from the bench, his brows fixed into a deep furrow.

"I'm pressing charges. Mom says it counts as simple battery and he could face jail time for what he did." Topper told him, and the lack of smugness or pride on his face felt unnatural. Kelce or Rafe would've been celebrating at the prospect of putting a Pogue in jail, never mind John Booker Routledge. But Topper had spent the whole night in a hospital ensuring the beating hadn't done serious, life-threatening damage. Even Dr. Thornton, a woman who rarely wore her emotions on her sleeve, had looked terrified for her son.

"I..." (Y/N) swallowed. He and John B weren't friends but the Pogues still cared about him. They liked him, accepted him, and treated him with kindness even after all the hell his fellow Kooks put them through. They'd been through hell and back as a team, as a family. But even as an 'Honorary Pogue', Kiara and JJ had stood silently aside when John B lunged for him. "I-I can testify. I probably would've been in your spot if you hadn't stepped in, Top."

Topper stared at him with a flurry of emotions swirling in his blue eyes. The furrow in his brow softened and his lips pulled up into a wide, thankful smile. He stepped forward and swung his sweaty arms around the teenager, tugging him into a sweet yet slightly wet embrace. "Thank you, man. It means a lot."

"Anytime." (Y/N) leaned back and watched Topper turn around to fetch his water bottle, teeth catching the inside of his cheek when he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He fished it out and tapped on the screen to open the newest message.

Sarah C. Where are you? I need to talk to you

"I'm gonna run upstairs and take a quick shower. Just wait here, alright?" Topper tossed a lopsided smile his way and (Y/N) nodded, forcing a smile for him and watching him disappear up the stairs. Releasing a deep sigh, (Y/N) looked back down at his phone and muted the contact, tapping out of the chat right before a new message could pop up. 

                    ✽        ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽

The courthouse felt imposing. It loomed over them in all its ancient glory and made (Y/N)'s stomach twist. He'd gone inside once for an elementary school field trip, but the only memories retained from that day were of Kelce's group of friends bristling at the nearby kids from the Cut as if they were ferals protecting their territory. He remembered Sarah Cameron, back when her cheeks still had some kid chub and she constantly kept her hair in braids. The only time they'd interacted back then had been brief eye contact when her friends whispered in her ear about his parents. 

He wondered how different things would've been if he hadn't befriended her that night on the rooftop. How easier life would've turned out.

"Guys!" His attention dropped toward the street where Sarah ditched her bike to run toward them. She skidded to a quick stop, her hair tumbling over her shoulders and face. She quickly brushed it out of her way and shot them a wide, perfectly curated smile that promptly fell when she fully took in Topper's face. "Holy shit, Top."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I look like shit." Topper chuckled dryly, tone laced with subtle annoyance. For someone who looked at Sarah as if she were Aphrodite herself for half of his life, Topper looked rather irritated with her mere presence. His shoulders deflated slightly and he jerked his head toward the courthouse and his waiting mother. "We're kinda busy, Sarah."

"W-Wait, you're actually pressing charges? And you're testifying, (Y/N)?" Her brown eyes widened, frantically jumping between the two.

Topper scoffed quietly and glanced back toward his mother when she called out to them to hurry up. "Yes, I'm pressin' charges. John B deserves to face justice for what he did. I'm not lettin' him off just 'cause he's your little boyfriend."

"I-I know, I just..." Sarah's breathing came out in short puffs and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "(Y/N), I need to talk to you. Top, please, just... wait here." 

Without waiting for a response from either boy, Sarah grasped (Y/N)'s arm and pulled him down the sidewalk until they were a good distance away and Topper's stare no longer burned into their backs. Sarah released him and tucked her hair behind her ears as she turned to face him, the look on her face already telling him everything he needed to know. She fiddled with her fingers and sighed softly before finally tilting her head up to look at him. 

"Singh kidnapped Big John. They're in South America trying to find El Dorado and John B needs to go help him. He can't lose his dad again, (Y/N). He just got him back. I-I need you to convince Topper to drop the charges so John B can go find his dad. Who knows, maybe they'll decide to live away from Kildare and never come back." Sarah spoke softly, gently, in a tone he often heard her use on her father and sister to convince them of something. She delicately took his hands into hers and intertwined their fingers together, fingertips gently rubbing against his skin. "John B and I are done. For good. But he's still my friend and I have to help him." 

"You're defending someone who beat someone while he was unconscious, Sarah. If nobody had stepped in, Topper would still be lying in a hospital bed. Why- Why are you trying to help someone who doesn't give a shit about you? If you were in his spot, he'd be halfway to South America right now shit-talking you to JJ and Kie. He likes you because you're a Cameron willing to solve all his problems." Anger bubbled in his chest and he ripped his hands from hers. Sarah blinked, eyes nearly flooding with tears, and she reached out, chasing after his touch. 

"Remember how good things were on the island? Remember how you worked together? We're Pogues. We fight sometimes but at the end of the day, we're family! And- And I know I ask a lot of you, (Y/N), but I really need this one favor. Do it for me, please. Not for John B or anyone else. For me. For Sarah." Her lips trembled, fingers lightly squeezing his arms as she gazed at him desperately. "I care about him but I don't love him, not anymore. I-I love you."

I love you. Words that rang like a church bell in his ears. Words that he barely heard directed toward him. His breath caught in his throat and then he released it in a scoff. "I don't believe you." He murmured. Sarah let out a shaky breath, brows twitching into a furrow as teardrops slipped down from her lashes. 

"What? (Y/N)-"

"You don't even know what love is, Sarah. You- John B's a dickhead, we all can see that. But even he doesn't deserve to be dragged along while you try to make up your mind. Everything was good between us and then you go off and kiss John B. You come back 'married' and when that falls apart, you come running back to me. You cuddle up with John B on the island and the second we get home you can't leave me alone. Now, you're doing everything to help him and his dad. Can't you see how fucked up this is? How confusing it is?"

"I know, I know. I-I made the wrong choice. I picked the wrong guy-"

"Did you pick the wrong guy or did we chase the wrong girl?" The tears tumbled down her cheeks freely and her hands dropped to her sides, head tilting downward in guilt. Or shame. He couldn't quite tell. "You've got a whole life ahead of you to meet more guys. You don't need to settle for anyone right now. You don't have to waste my time or John B's time trying to decide when you might not even be talking to either of us in five years. And you don't need to fix everyone's problems. Some people need to handle their own shit or they'll never learn." 

"I don't want to lose you. Not now... not ever." Sarah whispered, her voice shaky and barely audible. 

He swallowed. "I know. I want to- I want to stay friends. Just friends. My place is always available for you, Sarah, but I... I don't want to be strung along anymore. You should stay single for a while. Figure yourself out and figure out what you actually want." (Y/N) felt a weight lift off his shoulders and he let them slump, finally feeling in control of his life. Sarah remained silent, arms curling around herself, and he turned around, heading back to Topper and his irritated mother. 

Topper perked up at the sight of him, seemingly noting the lack of Sarah's presence, and tilted his head. "We good?"

"Uhm... I need you to do me a favor. A quick favor, Top. John B's dad needs his son right now. He's in some trouble somewhere else and only John B can help him. I need you to tell Shoupe to let him walk free and if John B comes back after helping his dad, you can press charges and have him arrested on the spot." Topper's jaw clenched and (Y/N) stepped forward to take him by the shoulders. "I know it's fucked, trust me, I know. But... I won't be able to sleep at night without knowing if I could've helped someone get their father back. It's shitty and unfair that he'll be walking free but I promise you, I will testify if he decides to come back. I will tell you the moment he comes back and you can call Shoupe to take him to the station, alright?"

Topper quietly stared at him, hardened blue eyes studying his face. "Sarah got to you, didn't she? I'm telling you, man, if you keep going back to those fuckin' Pogues-"

"If they need my help to get Big John, I will help them but it'll be the last thing I do for and with them. They're- They're good people with good intentions but I'm not going to let them ruin my life. I don't need a criminal record or need to go through another life-or-death situation. I'm fine living without a treasure hunt or going on some adventure. Those things are... They're just not for me." 

"You promise?"

"I promise."

                    ✽        ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽

"South fucking America? What, is this Big John guy Indiana Jones or something? And El Dorado? Like the movie with the hot chick?" (Y/N) snorted quietly, eyes locked on the action movie playing on his television. Liv scoffed quietly and shoved her hand into the bowl of popcorn, nearly spilling some over onto the bed while she grabbed a handful and stuffed her mouth. 

"I hate to break it to you, Liv, but that movie was inspired by El Dorado. The legend of a city of gold has been around for ages." 

"And you're telling me some billionaire from Barbados is trying to track down a legend? He could be dining at five-star restaurants and taking trips to Bora Bora or Fiji or- fuck, I don't know, Dubai. And he's chasing a legend about gold? When he could be picking up the phone and getting a diamond hand-delivered to him? Money can buy you happiness but it certainly doesn't buy you a couple of braincells." Liv said between mouthfuls. (Y/N) sighed through his nose and reached around Liv to pick up his coke can from the nightstand, only pausing when his phone screen lit up with a new message. He took a swing from the coke and sat up, lifting his phone toward his face and squinting through the darkness. 

JJ (Y/N) come 2 chatoe rn

Pope Chateau*

JJ its an emrgency

Pope It's not but we need you

Licking the soda and hint of butter off his lips, (Y/N) cleared his throat and turned to look at Liv. "I'm going to head out. I'll be back soon." He told her and shoved his phone into his back pocket. Liv blinked owlishly at him, mouth agape as she watched him put his sneakers on and grab his car keys.

"What? But we just started the marathon!" 

"I know, I know. I'll make it up to you by suffering through one of your little Hallmark movies." He flashed her a grin and spun on his heel, hearing the sound of her huffing and puffing growing distant when he descended the stairs. Stepping out into the cool night air, (Y/N) took in a deep breath and reminded himself: just one more adventure and nothing more. 

The drive to the Chateau had been a quick one with barely any traffic on the road. The sight of the raggedy, worn-down mobile home made him grimace, the thought of its owner leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He could see the Pogues gathered around near the old tree, the lights intertwined around the branches illuminating the ground below. (Y/N) shut off the engine of his car and climbed out, closing the door behind him and drawing their attention. JJ grinned widely at the sight of him and swung his arm around his shoulder when he grew near.

"There's my little prince! I knew we could count on you."

"Don't celebrate just yet." (Y/N) met John B's gaze, and the sight of the bruise on his cheek nearly made his lips quirk. "The Thornton's aren't doing anything for now. They're not gonna let it go that easy."

"Still," JJ insisted and squeezed his shoulder. "It means a lot to us, man. Right, John B?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot." The brunette forced out through gritted teeth. Some satisfaction bubbled in his stomach at his forced words and he gave the others a quick glance. They all seemed equally happy, even a little excited. JJ bit his bottom lip and lightly shook his shoulders, finally spilling the beans.

"We're flying down to Orinoco thanks to Miss Cameron over here who convinced Ward to let her borrow the plane. We're going on a search and rescue mission to South America first thing tomorrow morning, ain't that right? We're flying first class, baby." JJ laughed, earning playful eye rolls from Kiara and Pope. John B cracked a small smile and lifted a beer to his lips. (Y/N)'s eyes gravitated toward Sarah and she offered a thankful yet sad smile. 

"I, uhm... I have something else I want to share." She piped up and cleared her throat. "Since we've gotten back from the island, I've done some things that have hurt some of you. And- I don't- Poguelandia, guys. It's all I've been able to think about. We were all together on that island and it was a good thing, and I don't want to ruin a good thing. And I... I just want to know, are we all still in? Are we still all together? Because I am." 

Kiara smiled softly. "Yeah. Always." She replied and stepped toward the blonde to embrace her warmly. Cleo and Pope smiled widely at her and moved in as well, each giving her a tight, reassuring hug while sharing chuckles and murmurs. JJ kept his arm snugly around (Y/N)'s shoulders and pulled him along, wrapping his other arm around Pope's waist. They looked toward John B expectantly and after a moment of rubbing his sneaker into the grass, he moved forward to join them. He wrapped one arm around Sarah's shoulder and the other around (Y/N)'s. 

"We're really doing this, huh?" Pope laughed.

"I think we should let loose tonight," JJ smirked widely. "What do ya'll think? We crack a couple beers, smoke a joint?"

"Definitely." Kiara giggled and her warm gaze lingered on the rowdy blonde for a minute too long. JJ whooped and slapped his hands against Pope and (Y/N)'s backs before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the joint. Pope shook his head at his antics and headed inside with Cleo and (Y/N) trailing behind.

And Christ, John B needed to do a deep clean of his house. (Y/N) stepped over a crinkled, stained covered shirt and lightly kicked aside an empty box of Cheerios. Cleo rummaged through the pantry and tossed snacks onto the table, some bags half-full and others barely touched, while Pope searched the living room for any board games he could find. JJ sauntered into the room with the others, already reeking of weed. He fiddled with the radio until a song he liked came on and plopped down on the couch to watch Pope spill some dominos on the table and brush aside the available snacks. 

"(Y/N)," Sarah called out softly and nodded toward one of the rooms, specifically the one John B had gone into. He took the beer offered by JJ and drank some, letting it settle into his system before he followed her into the bedroom and watched the door close. (Y/N) leaned back against the wall, taking in the equally messy bedroom floor and poster-covered walls. The itch to start cleaning crawled up his back. 

"So," John B began, awkwardly and forcibly. "What do you want, Sarah?"

"To get rid of any bad blood between the two of you. I... I fucked up. I hurt you both and neither of you deserved it. I'm sorry, really, I am. I'm not asking for you to be best friends but... it'd be good for all of us if you two were at least on decent terms. We're a family. Families fight and argue but at the end of the day, they come back together. If we're going to be a team-"

"I'm okay with.. apologizing. But, uh, JJ didn't give me much of a choice back there." (Y/N) inhaled and their questioning eyes jumped to him. "I'm helping out this time 'cause I don't want Singh to hurt anybody. After this, after we get back from South America... I'm not joining ya'll on any more adventures or treasure hunts or anything like that. The Pogues are great. It's fun but it's not a forever sort of thing for me."

"Fuckin' knew you'd ditch us eventually." John B murmured bitterly and shook his head.

"Pope lost his scholarship, Kiara's relationship with her parents is going down the drain, none of you have actual jobs or went to school regularly. I want to go to school, I want a diploma, I want to have a life that doesn't revolve around other people. I... I had a plan, even before meeting Sarah. I told the others about it but I don't know if they remember or think I changed my mind. I'm leaving the Outer Banks. The second I can get my hands on a high school diploma and enroll in college, I'm getting out of here. The plan was always to become roommates with Liv somewhere else."

"You- You can't just up and leave us," Sarah said quietly. 

"The Pogue life is fun. It's great. But I've had enough shit on my plate these past few years. I'm tired, Sarah. It's not stupid or wrong to want a normal, regular life where I'm not constantly fleeing from someone or risking my well-being. If you want to be treasure hunters or constantly go on new adventures then great. I hope that life's fun for you. It wouldn't be for me. So, I'm sorry for hooking up with Sarah, John B. It was shitty of me. I'm not sorry for punching you. You've had it coming for a while."

"Yeah, okay, fair." John B sighed and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for... everything, I guess. I hope you get what you want. The Pogues will be here if you ever need anything from us." With that, he exited the room and closed the door behind him, leaving the two alone with their thoughts. (Y/N) set aside the beer bottle and slipped his arms around Sarah's shoulders, tugging her carefully into his chest. She buried her face into his shoulder and they stood still like that, listening to the muffled sound of the radio and laughter in the next room. 

"I'm glad you're in my life." She revealed softly and tilted her head upward to look at him. He smiled and brushed the hair out of her face, pushing strands behind her ears and combing through the hair that stuck up from her hectic day. Sarah leaned up and pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss before taking his hand and smiling. "We should enjoy ourselves tonight as Pogues."

[nocoastposts]

Here's a semi-long WIP Wednesday post since it's my first one in six months. Special thanks to @onthewaytosomewhere for tagging me!

This snippet is from an untitled AU that is very loosely inspired by the book/movie One Day, so this is your angst warning.

Henry smiles drunkenly, loose-mouthed and honest. “You're going to be a wonderful father, Alex.”

Alex’s heart is rattled by a seismic boom, mighty enough to destroy whole countries and devastate every ocean. Henry nods confidently with his eyes closed, his nearly naked body twisted up in Bea’s throw blanket.

 “Thanks,” Alex whispers, his lips barely parting.

“You've truly been a -” Henry breaks off and flops onto his side, pressing his face into the couch “- an excellent friend to me. You always h-help me when I'm lonely, you always c-come right over. Being there f-for me even when I was with Nathan and simply listening. Always…always listening.”

Alex screws his eyes shut. “Henry,” he starts before he’s quickly cut off.

“Always, Alex, even when I was awful to you. Even when I blamed you for anything and everything. I’ve been so spiteful. Yet you're still here.'

Something that feels too similar to guilt causes Alex’s back to tense. “Don’t, Henry. Please don’t ever say this is your fault.”

“I'm so lonely,” Henry mutters softly as if he didn’t hear Alex speak. 'I'm so lonely without you.'

It makes Alex feel like the smallest man in the world. Henry had everything he’d ever wanted just months ago. Now he's drunk and morose and living on his sister's couch, grasping the cushions like they’ll discard him if he dares to let go. 

Alex kneels next to the couch and gently skates his thumb over Henry’s cheekbone, letting himself feel this for a moment - feel the scars he's left behind, the marks he's etched him with, the sting he'll never be able to heal. The unfairness of it all makes Alex want to rip the world in two with his bare hands. He'd do it if Henry asked. He'd do it without a spare though.

“I'm right here,” Alex says quietly. 'I'm right here with you.”

Henry swallows audibly and hums as he burrows further into the cushions. Alex nearly feels as wasted as Henry is when he sees his plush lips shining with spit, his tousled hair falling and grazing his somber blue eyes. He looks so breakable, but not even God himself could make Alex break him again. Nothing will ever be as evil and terrible as breaking Henry. 

“Stay with me. Always stay with me,” Henry replies. 'If you leave me I may just die.”

“I'll stay until you’re asleep,” Alex promises. His thumb rubs against Henry’s cheek again, and he prays it feels the least bit soothing.

And so he stays, kneeling by Henry until his thigh muscles ache, until he's forgotten what it feels like to breathe air without Henry’s warm breath joining his own. It wraps Alex up in a world that belongs to the two of them alone.

I'm only tagging a small handful of mutuals/writers since it's been forever since I've been active.

@anincompletelist @wordsofhoneydew @getmehighonmagic @blueeyedgrlwrites @thesleepyskipper

@kiwiana-writes @bitbybitwrites @meraki-yao @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead

[nathandrakeisabottom]

When Sunlight Hits : Nathan Drake x Reader

Summary: After the events of a more-than-fortunate sleeping bag situation, you and Nate play chicken to decide whether or not your twin confessions the night before were in the heat of the moment... or exist even brighter in broad daylight. Warning: None! Just some fluffy quick-fic goodness! Reader is briefly implied to be blonde/redhead/etc. with brown/hazel eyes due to the specific dialogue some unrelated freakazoid wrote. Feel free to disregard.

Your first time. Your first time back. You almost can’t believe it.

You’re wearing a dress. He’s wearing a suit. And the drinks you both hold are only to soften the brutality that follows. For one brief hour, you two find the will to believe you deserve to soften, deserve to meet your worlds intertwined in the middle. Where danger becomes mundane, and where danger is born from the mundane. 

Born in a ballroom in Italy. 

“You havin’ a good time?” Nathan smiles with teeth, grip leveraging up to mindlessly swirl his glass of whiskey. It’s three quarters of the way gone, but that doesn’t near out-do your double drag of lemon drop. Or maybe he’s just better at holding it than you are.

“It’s alright.” You match his grin with your own, blood beating with the drum and twirl of alcohol, heart palpitating to be so close to him. He doesn’t move his arm when your elbows bump on a lean over the balcony. He smells like vanilla sandalwood and aftershave. Overwhelming. Perfect. “A bit disappointed I haven’t bagged any hotties yet.”

He laughs full and open— and your heart takes a breathtaking nosedive. “Well, there’s still time.”

His body leans further over the railing, eyes scanning through the stripes of jade, ruby, sapphire, amethyst, black silk-covered crowd, eagle-eyeing for a win. “Anyone your type?” 

And maybe it’s just the liquor that does it, cheeks flushed and making the whole room spin warm and possible, that makes you spitball a death-defying risk.

“...Sam’s single, isn’t he?” 

You take a half-glance over the rim of your glass on another sip. And Nathan’s eyes bug in some reaction you can’t quite decipher. Your heartbeat thunders for his reply.

“S-Sam?! Are you kidding me?” His mouth falters for a fallen grin, or maybe he’s just swallowing back upchuck. No self-respecting man would give the go-ahead for a friend to jump the bones of his potential crack-head older brother. “Please tell me you're joking.”

“And what if I wasn’t?” 

You trail, slinking up onto a nearby pub table bathed in white linen, ankle crossing over ankle. You play coy so you can ignore the way your hands start to sweat. But the alcohol, the flabbergasted way he looks at you makes it easy to forget.

“Nah… nah, I don’t see it.” 

And Nate leaves it at that before swigging back and emptying the last of his glass. A pathetically reasonless answer. But you need more.

Please.

Oh god please, you need more. 

“Why not?” The next gulp makes your thoughts warp. You’re far from sober, even farther from thirst, but your body does what is necessary for your growing fight or flight. You don’t even know the person who asks with such mystique. 

He says nothing, only tips back his head for the backwash remnants of a drink that no longer exists. 

“What kind of person do you think would be better?” You’re putting your life on the line when you ask it, balancing precarious upon a tightrope as wonderfully garish tulle collects sweat between your chest, between your thighs, beneath your fucking pits. There is no escape from what his presence does to your body, to your barely beating heart. What his answer could possibly incite next. 

“Better? Well, uh…” 

But maybe it doesn’t really matter. 

“Blonde or Brunette?” You swing back to standing when he’s pulled back abash from speech, palms swaying just barely against your laying skirt. You hope he likes the dress you picked. 

You know you do.

“What does that matter?”

“Just curious what you think.”

“Well, brunette would… pair better, I guess.” His reply warbles uncomfortable at the edges, reluctantly sets his glass down when no reason to hold presents itself. And you’d be dumb to not notice the way he eyes your dress— wishing with all your heart that he was eyeing you— sinking into bombastic, glaring hues for example. “I know you like color contrast.”

You hover on closer to him. It’s everything your body chooses without you.

“I–- I don’t know! Whatever you like best is fine, I’m sure.” His breath barely breaches past withholding hysteria. Downstairs: glasses clink, a gentle jazz thrums through the echoing space, rich crimson reds of parted, velvet curtains, satin cloth magnetizing to a triple dozen wealthy socialites’ curves, dips, hips, tricks. 

And yet his eyes are only on you, cloudy over and gorgeous sky, before they pull back once again. Shrugging shoulders do little to hide his timidity. It’s a way you never see him when Sam and Sully are around. It’s the way he is when your heart plucks over his safe, beautiful, gentlemanly visage and fawns. 

“Blue eyes?” And now textile has been added for sight, fingers carefully moving over the soft polyester of his suit, a touch you would never have the courage to give without the booze. The music. The dress. The solitude. “For the contrast?”

“Heh, I guess that makes sense.” His chest stutters for inhale as his warmth meets yours, quirking sideways smiles you want to taste and grin against and give love to. “Whatever you like.” 

You slide your palm across his back, nestle, thumb over where his shoulder blades sit. The places on his body you want to wring the pain out of. He takes a less than steady inhale. Form forced to turn towards it. And his eyes speak such tender shyness into yours.

You love him.

You want to tell him in the places he might actually believe you.

“How about someone sweet? Boy— man— next door type?” His eyes drop bashfully at the closeness, lips still quirking in that petal-soft grin. “Someone who will be good and gentle with me. That’s what I like.”

Your fingers brave farther, farther, farther, and the wool polyester translates into starch cotton and the big band below is playing smooth jazz you’d have to be an idiot to not think is romantic and the liquor bubbles and pounds and twitters through your skin so strong that it dematerializes any pointless barrier.

And you ask:

“What do you think?”

He finally looks up at you. His lips look unbearably soft, and in any and every other instance that you’ve known him, you would’ve near thrown yourself into the sea for even daring to look. But when you look back up, he’s only looking back at yours. 

“That sounds… nice.” — Soft, dreamy, distant. Like he’s a hundred miles away and inside your very soul simultaneously.

And you’re so stupid, so fucking stupid. 

“Do you know anyone like that?” 

And he’s stupid, so fucking stupid.

And so fucking brave. 

“Maybe.”

This time, for the first time, he doesn’t speak coy words he hardly makes coy, doesn’t reach for his empty glass to combat the nerves, to fix his uneven footing. Or maybe there’s just no more space for his hands to even reach with how close you drift. His eyes are soft and gentle when he looks back up at you, cautious and bearing all that the man with a gun refuses to. 

Or maybe just never allows himself to.

“I know one.”

And that’s when you finally, finally, finally—

Fucking finally—

After all this fucking time—

In the light of a full moon and a marble-sheened dance floor, outside the world of dreams, outside of secrets held in warm sleeping bags and claustrophobic caves and all the life you didn't live until you found each other, finally, finally, within your sunlit, unashamed reality—

You meet him into a kiss.

[monsterswithimagines]

Sailor Song (Nathan's pov) - part 7

Nathan Young x Female!Reader

Summary: After Nathan is buried alive, things aren't all rainbows and unicorns for him. One night, after a particularly bad nightmare in which he's back in his coffin all over again, he calls his ex–you. A/n: I swear to fuck, I really wanted the show to focus on the friendship between the gang, more than just 'I just want to be your friend' 'alright' and 'so we're not gonna shag then?'. I mean, Nathan, Alisha and Curtis don't really seem to be huge friends (though I wanna focus on that more, too, at some point) but damnit LET NATHAN HAVE FRIENDS. Anyway. If anyone's wondering why I'm putting so much focus on the Asbo 5 in a romance story, that's why. Kinda hilarious that this fic was originally gonna be 10 parts per pov. I don't think that's gonna work.

Masterlist

~

Nathan did not remember how he had ended up at your flat. Or anything after the others had left the pub–except maybe you standing at the mouth of an alley with your arms crossed.

He groaned, rubbing his head as he sat up. His head was pounding. Where had he even gotten the money for more drinks? Probably someone had bought them for him. He hoped he hadn’t done anything too stupid to get them. He was known for that.

You must have anticipated Nathan’s hangover. There was a strip of Anadin Extra on the coffee table, as well as a half-full glass of water. His jacket was folded next to it.

Nathan swallowed two of the pills at the same time, drank the water, then went to the kitchen to fill up the glass again. The clock on the microwave told him it was ten am. That bothered him, for some reason, but he couldn’t think why just now.

Then… shit, community service!

Nathan rushed into the living room and dug through the pockets of his jacket for his phone. For a moment he was worried he’d lost it, but then he found it in an inside pocket where he would never otherwise put it. It was at ten percent.

He had several missed calls from both Kelly and Barry, as well as a bunch of texts, all of which came down to: where are you?

He called Barry, because he seemed the least likely to yell at him.

“Nathan?” the little creep answered.

“Hi, yes, it’s me.”

“Where are you?”

Nathan glanced around the living room.

“...Somewhere.”

“We’ve been worried.”

“Why? I’m immortal,” Nathan said grandly.

“You could still be slowly bleeding out in a ditch.”

“Yes, well, I’m not. I’m on my way now. You can all stop getting your panties in a twist. Twat.”

Nathan hung up.

He patted the pockets of his jeans. He still had his wallet, and his cigarettes, thank God. No clue where his keys were, but those were just to the community centre, and he didn’t really give a shit if that place got broken into.

Someone cleared their throat.

Nathan whirled around.

You were standing in the doorway to what he guessed was your bedroom. Your hair was a mess and you wore a white bathrobe. You had your arms crossed as you leaned in the doorway.

“Going somewhere?” you asked.

“Got my community service,” Nathan said weakly.

He would have been out of here just as fast if he didn’t have an excuse, but he felt it was probably better not to say that.

“Right,” you said.

“Thank you, for, uh…” Nathan gestured towards the couch.

You shrugged.

You were giving him a very, very strange look.

“What? Have I got something on my face?” Nathan asked, feeling his face as he spoke.

“No. Just… you said some stuff last night… You don’t remember?”

“Not really.” Not at all. Not even a little.

“Oh.”

Nathan did not like that look on your face.

He booked it.

-

“So then ya just left?” Kelly asked as they walked around the estate, haphazardly picking up litter.

“Pretty much,” Nathan said, making a face. “It was really very awkward.”

“Aren’cha at least a little bit curious what all you said?”

 “No.”

Kelly rolled her eyes.

“With how you been thinkin’, you probably declared your undying love, or somefin.”

“I don’t love her,” Nathan insisted.

Barry had been keeping suspiciously quiet the whole time, but now he made a sort of laughing noise–a small huff of air out of his nose while he smiled.

Who knew where Curtis and Alisha were.

“You got something to say, creep?” Nathan snapped. He realised right away that he sounded a bit meaner than he had been to Barry in a while, and poked him in the shoulder to make up for it. “Stop gangin’ up on me.”

“It’s just funny,” Barry said after a moment. “The thought of you in love.”

“That’s because it doesn’t happen,” Nathan insisted.

Now it was Kelly’s turn to snort. “Yeah, right.”

“Love’s far too complicated, man,” Nathan said, stabbing roughly at some used tissues. “I prefer the leavin’ part of love ‘em and leave ‘em.”

“If you say so.”

“Well, I do.”

Nathan…

Nathan stopped when he heard the voice. They were in a neighbourhood, surrounded by ugly concrete buildings. So basically, they could have been anywhere in Wertham. That being said, being surrounded by buildings meant the voice echoed.

It sounded somehow less human than it had at the park.

“Mate,” Kelly said (or maybe she said ‘Nate’, who knew with her accent?), turning back to look at Nathan. “What?”

“Do you guys hear that?”

Naaaathaaaan…

“I don’t hear anything,” Barry said, after listening for a moment.

“I swear, there’s somebody calling my name,” Nathan said, looking around.

“Is this like that bollocks with that baby?” Kelly asked. “Because if you steal another one, I’m not savin’ ya.”

“Shush.”

But the voice was gone. All Nathan heard now was the mild breeze echoing between houses.

I must be going insane.

“Yeah, you must be,” Kelly agreed.

“Maybe someone with powers is messing with you,” Barry offered, frowning. “Making you hear something that isn’t there.”

“That does seem like the preferable option, doesn’t it?” Nathan asked, catching up with his friends. “Instead of just ‘Nathan is hearing shit that isn’t there’?”

“Maybe you were hearing a ghost.”

“Nah, man,” Nathan said. “Ghosts don’t sound all creepy an’ shit. They just sort of show up.” He paused. “Besides, I haven’t seen any dead people since my brother and that chick he was shaggin’. I bet it was because of them drugs. Usually I’m immortal, but when I took E, I saw ghosts.”

“Maybe,” Barry said thoughtfully.

“We’re just gonna brush off you hearin’ voices, then?” Kelly asked, hip-checking Nathan as they began walking again.

“Yes, I think that’s the best course of action,” Nathan said. “Or we can find a nice, cosy little asylum for me. I prefer something near a beach.”

“Don’t be a wanker,” Kelly told him, slapping the back of his head.

“Hey!”

Barry laughed.

[emma23]

Not that expensive :

Nathan bateman x reader

If you’d like to support me, feel free to check this out 💕

https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile

You were sitting on the edge of Nathan's absurdly sleek, minimalistic couch, sipping a drink that probably cost more than your monthly rent, staring at the man who had somehow become a fixture in your life. He was leaned against the kitchen counter, shirtless as usual, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, looking every bit like the eccentric genius he was.

"So," you began, watching him out of the corner of your eye, "about this... plane."

Nathan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, but there was that familiar glint of amusement in his eyes. "What about it?"

You sighed, setting your drink down and turning to face him. "You bought a plane, Nathan. A whole-ass plane."

He shrugged as if you were commenting on the weather. "Yeah. And?"

You blinked, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was treating this like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Nathan, you don’t just buy a plane. That’s not a casual thing. Why would you even—"

"You said you didn’t like being in small spaces with a lot of people," he interrupted, his tone so nonchalant it made you question your sanity for a moment.

You stared at him, your mouth slightly open, trying to comprehend his logic. "And your solution to that was to... buy a plane? Instead of, I don’t know, booking first-class tickets like a normal person?"

Nathan took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving yours. "Why fly commercial when I can fly private? I was gonna upgrade anyway, figured now was as good a time as any."

"Upgrade? You didn’t even have a plane to begin with!"

"Semantics," he said with a lazy grin, pushing off the counter and strolling over to you. "Look, it wasn’t that expensive."

You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Nathan, it’s a plane! They’re all expensive!"

He sat down beside you, draping his arm casually over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing the back of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "Not if you know the right people."

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "You’re unbelievable."

Nathan just smirked, leaning in closer. "You didn’t answer my question. Why are you so hung up on the plane? You don’t want to fly in it?"

You rolled your eyes. "That’s not the point, and you know it."

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is," you started, struggling to find the right words. "The point is... I don’t even know anymore. You just... you always do this! You make these insane decisions, and then act like it’s no big deal!"

Nathan chuckled, pulling you in closer until your shoulder was pressed against his chest. "It’s not a big deal to me. But if it bothers you so much, we can talk about it."

You glanced up at him, your heart racing at how effortlessly close he was. "Talk about it? Like two normal people?" you teased.

He smiled, his eyes dark and intent on yours. "Something like that."

Your breath hitched as his hand moved from your neck to your chin, tilting your face toward his. His lips were just inches away from yours, and you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

This was Nathan. Always pushing boundaries, always doing things his way, and never apologizing for it. You had gotten used to it, in a way, but it didn’t make moments like this any less overwhelming.

"I could’ve booked first class," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "But where’s the fun in that?"

You bit your lip, your mind screaming at you to say something clever, to push back like you usually did. But right now, with his eyes locked on yours and the heat of his body so close, all you could think about was how much you wanted him to close that last inch between you.

"Nathan—" you started, but the rest of your sentence was swallowed by his kiss.

It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry, intense, like he had been waiting for this just as much as you had. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin.

You melted into him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much fervor. It felt reckless, it felt inevitable, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else in that moment.

Before you knew it, you were straddling his lap, his hands gripping your waist as your lips moved in sync. The world around you disappeared, replaced only by the heat between you and the feel of his body pressed against yours.

Your shirt was the first to go, tossed somewhere behind the couch without a second thought. Nathan’s hands roamed your body with a confidence that made your skin tingle, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as his fingers found all the right places.

"You make the worst decisions," he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.

"Yeah?" you panted, tugging at the waistband of his pants. "Well, you’re the one who just bought a damn plane."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pulled you even closer. "Fair point."

The rest of your clothes followed, discarded carelessly on the floor as Nathan’s hands and mouth explored every inch of your body. The feeling of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel so completely alive, was intoxicating.

There was nothing gentle about it. It was fast, it was intense, and it left you both breathless by the time it was over.

You collapsed beside him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Nathan was grinning like the smug bastard he was, clearly pleased with himself.

"You okay?" he asked, still a little breathless himself.

You nodded, turning your head to look at him. "I’ll live. Barely."

He chuckled, pulling you closer until your head was resting on his chest. His hand absentmindedly played with your hair, and for a moment, the two of you just lay there in comfortable silence.

After a while, you couldn’t help but ask, "So... what’s next? Do we just... fly off into the sunset in your shiny new plane?"

Nathan smirked, glancing down at you. "Well, if that’s what you want."

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. "You’re ridiculous."

"Yeah," he said, his voice low and full of amusement. "But you love it."

You smiled, closing your eyes as you nestled closer against him. "Maybe."

Nathan’s hand trailed lazily down your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "And for the record," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, "the plane was a good investment."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Of course, it was."

"You’re still paying for the fuel, though."

[enormities-writes]

Meeting Him  | Simon Bellamy x GN! Reader

Summary: Reminiscing over reader's progression of a relationship with Simon.

Warnings: Swearing, staring, mutual pinning, kissing, cuddling, basically a bunch of fluff.

Words: 1,423

AN: This is my first ever fanfiction so sorry if it's rough or needs any work. I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work. Thank you.

________________________

When I started my community service, I was kinda pissed, to say the least.

Tires strain to a stop as a silver car stops at the curb in front of a boring gray community building. A shoe creeps out of the vehicle and onto the asphalt with a slight pitter-patter. The car's shining doors meet the frame with a resounding slam.

Dark semi-circles reside underneath Y/n’s eyes, which roll after the conversation with the person driving. The tires give a loud screeeeech, and the car skids down the drop-off area and out of the parking lot.

The person stumbles up the scratchy concrete and yanks the cold metal handle to the building open with their fist.

The building is empty and unremarkable. Some bland colors through the chilly halls include a dull orange of uncomfortable chairs, printed “motivational” posters hanging up on the white walls as if anyone gave a shit about the people there, and not to mention the washed-out unflattering lighting the whole building has.

After changing into the paper-like orange jumpsuit, they go outside and join the other six delinquents.

I had just gotten there, and this kid with big, bright blue eyes could not keep staring at me.

They sit, crisscrossed on the concrete outside, beside a big reflective pond. A wooden paintbrush in their hand, leisurely dragging the coated bristles along the withered, metal bench. 

Y/n’s brain was practically melting from the constant burn of Simon's gaze on the side of their head.

The vibrant blue eyes glance up again from their occupied place of the covered graffiti on the park bench. 

Unlike the last fifteen times, a sigh comes from the now-opened mouth of the observee. Their head swiftly turns, the expression of their face less than enthusiastic. Lips planted in a firm line and eyes, although a little more energized than that morning, still tired. This time more than just physically.

The anxiety-ridden boy quickly moves his eyes back to the bench and the task at hand, as if he had never been gazing at the interesting person at all. Feeling the weight of the person’s gaze, he swallows the saliva in his mouth in a big gulp, trying to breathe with even controlled breaths.

After Y/n looks off to their chore once more, Simon takes a second to smooth out the hair on his forehead with a rigid aggressive hand, a nervous tick of his.

Even though I felt slightly bad for him because of Nathans instigating comments, I still felt that he was a bit weird but could kind of tolerate him.

That was, until we were all slightly having fun. 

Y/n was carrying a chair over to its designated place as Nathan was rambling on and on about his step dad the man who lives with his mom.

Words flew out of the Irish boy's mouth for too long to count. The second he slowed down to a stop and they would think it was finally over, he would start back up again. But it’s better than the stuffy silence of the empty, echoey, hallways.

Placing down the plastic of a burnt orange chair, they look over and see Nathan's arm around Simon, his warm hand resting on the curve of the shorter man's shoulder.

A passerby would have guessed them to be great friends. They would most definitely pull a displeased face at the language that was spewing from their mouths though. 

“Cock, anus, ballsack. Yeah?” The green-eyed guy asked, referencing the pixels that formed a raunchy picture on his flip phone.

Simons's mouth pulled up at the corners and created indents on the sides of his face. His ears lifted slightly and his full cheeks were rounded with the movement. His eyes were shiny and glistened with the happiness of being included and regarded as a friend.

Almost forgetting to let go of the chair, Y/n gazed at the boy with a twinkle in their eyes.

Admiring his boyish, crooked smile, the breath was stolen from their lungs. From his rosy cheeks to plump, delicate lips, Y/n had no power to not get sucked into the display of joy.

They were almost completely lost in the floaty space of their mind until Simons's icy blue eyes drifted over to them, this time Y/n being the one caught staring.

They cleared their throat and ducked their head, continuing to work, pretending their cheeks don't feel like they're burning. This just made his smile brighter than it already had been.

To say I tolerated him was an understatement. 

Then, there had been this weird stage of us admiring each other from afar, too scared or unsure of ourselves to do anything about it.

After being caught so many times staring, a person over time, doesn't care to look away anymore.

There is no embarrassment, that having died out a long time ago. Instead, one continues to openly gaze at the person, hoping that they will be there forever, just to examine the details of that person's face.

Nathan would loudly argue at the pair that they were giving each other “fuck me eyes”, but instead, they were simply admiring the beauty of the other. 

Light blue eyes swept across Y/n's face. Taking in all the details and perfectly placed imperfections. The indented pores or lightly shaded wrinkles. Light rays sprinkled past the clouds and rained down on their body.

If someone had asked him at that moment, he would have uttered truthfully that they looked like an angel. Angelic. That's the only word that would come to his head.

A gust of air brushed past them on the windy day on top of the roof of the community service building.

The eyelashes of Y/n fluttered as they opened their eyes and immediately darted them in Simon's direction as if hearing his thoughts. 

He didn’t blush this time. Didn’t become embarrassed anymore. No anxious assumptions even crossed his mind. Instead, he continued to stare.

Y/n smiled lightly, taking the staring as a compliment. No inkling of judgment tracing their kind features.

All of a sudden, the button-up collar of Simons's uncomfortable orange jumpsuit seemed a little too tight.

I eventually got fed up with it.

The rubber of Converse tapping away on the linoleum floor is what caught Simon's attention. Glancing up with his beautiful blue eyes, he sees Y/n, the person he had been crushing on, determinedly strutting in his direction. Hair that made up his eyebrows came together in a furrow, a line indenting his skin in between them.

Y/n stopped in front of him, chest puffed out in faux confidence. “Go on a date with me.” Came from their mouth. It wasn’t a question. It was a demand. 

Simon openly gazed up at them from his sitting position. His mouth opened, jaw dropping in shock at the situation in front of him. “Y- yes.” He uttered once his brain caught up with his mouth, blinking way more than necessary.. “Good.”

Y/n seemed to lose their mojo, figure relaxing from their rigid posture, and handed him their phone, waiting for him to put in his number. Simons is now the one who straightens up and accepts the piece of metal, quickly pressing digits into it with the pads of his fingers.

The time I first started my community service, I was annoyed, to say the least. But I’m glad it happened. I had the privilege of meeting him.

I roll over in the soft blankets, scooting closer to the figure radiating warmth. Blankets jostle with my tired but relaxed movements. The heavy weight of his arm over my waist is comforting as I nuzzle into the side of his neck. I pucker my lips and leave a sloppy, chaste, sleep-filled kiss there. 

The limbs caging me tug me impossibly closer to the muscly body. “I love you, darling.” His voice is deep with sleep as he whispers the affection in my ear.

I run my hand underneath his shirt and on the silky soft skin of his waist before feeling around the curve of his back, resting it there. “I love you too, baby,” I utter out of my scratchy throat. “Now go back to bed, it's too early,” I groan. A puff of air against my shoulder lets me know he’s laughing. 

I place one more kiss on the warm skin in front of my face before I let the peaceful darkness of sleep overtake me once again.

AN: Hi everyone! Thank you so much if you read all of that. I wanted to create this because Simon fics are so scarce. If you like it please let me know or reblog it or something, it would mean the absolute world to me. Any and all tips for my writing are greatly appreciated.

[amischiefofmuses]

"...... merry christmas, sweetheart." madelyn is viper quick to embrace cable despite their distinct heights not exactly lining up, pressing her flushed cheek against his warm bulk to hear his healthy heart beat under protective layers; which floods her whole being with so much joy she's practically fit to burst from it. she's still terrified of losing her son, but a big & strong hug eases her worries for the moment. her love consumes her too much, sometimes. but today wasn't a sad day.

regretfully, she sighs softly & pulls back to give him some room to breathe after she had so fervently rushed into him, expression lightly pinched, but thoughtful all the same.

"me.... and your father made you this." the redhead fishes a locket from her jacket pocket, gently holding it out to nathan to take of his own volition; treating it as if it had been made with hollow glass -- her movements molasses slow.

scott is on the right plate, madelyn on the left, & both are smiling. the middle is a picture of nathaniel as a newborn, lovingly swaddled in a light blue blanket.

Random asks always welcomed || Accepting

A little surprised by the sudden embrace, he tenses for barely a blink of time before he realizes what's happening, earning a smile as he looks down at her. Strong arms wrap around her, giving her a small squeeze. It's his first Christmas with his family, he's going to cherish every moment of it. -- ❝Merry Christmas, mom..❞ He murmurs in return just before she pulls back, gaze searching her features as he catches a hint of - something there. It's no surprise really, that lingering bittersweetness of having this after so many years without is something that clings to them all. Unavoidable. Filtering in during moments of silence and reflection. Best not to dwell.

Leaning down as she offers out the locket, he cups a hand beneath it just as delicately as she's holding it, bringing it up until the cool metal settles neatly in his palm. Oh- His chest feels tight with emotion as he sees the images but he keeps it subdued, swallows it down as he always does - even managing a smile when he looks up from it. The last thing he wants is to seem ungrateful, this will be staying with him indefinitely. -- ❝Thank you, I love it.❞ Offering it out to her in his palm, his brows furrow a little. ❝Could you help me get it on..? Clasps are always too damn small..❞

[lovesickheroreader]

I Love You, I'm Sorry 2/3

Pairing- Sam Carver x fem!reader

Previous chapter

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Read on A03

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There you are, I've been looking for you,” you announced with a smile, seeing Carver sitting on the bench in the locker room.

Your smile fell when he didn't turn to face you. You slowly approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Everything okay?” You asked with concern. Your brows knitted in confusion when he moved from your touch. You saw the tension riddled through his body. “Did your brother reach out again?” You questioned.

“Everything's fine,” Carver answered curtly. He was obviously lying, but you decided not to prod him.

“All right,” you trailed slowly, taken aback.

Despite Carver's attitude, you plastered a cheery expression, “Come out to the app floor. Ride-along guys here. We're gonna make him feel like the man of the moment-” Your excitement was interrupted by Carver, who finally turned to face you. A hard glare in his eyes.

“I don't wanna do this happy family act, okay? This isn't my family. This is a workplace. And it's getting pretty damn suffocating, to be honest,” he snapped coldly.

His words left you speechless, and you just stared back at him paralyzed. Swallowing, you cast your gaze downwards before promptly rushing out of the locker room.

~~

That event happened two shifts ago, and the next shift, Carver called in sick. You just couldn't understand what went wrong. Everything was fine between the two. In fact, you thought things had gotten better. Guess you were wrong.

At first, all you felt was anger. After all the support you'd given him, the comfort, this is how he repaid your kindness? By cutting your friendship off? You weren't just angry on your own behalf but on the rest of House 51, who had welcomed him with open arms.

Then came the hurt. Despite your avid disagreements and protests to Stella, Sylvie, and Violet, you did begin to want your relationship with Carver to go to the next level. The whole situation with Nathan cemented your feelings for the firefighter, but after his abrupt rejection, you didn't know how to feel. You couldn't just stop caring for him. Your feelings couldn't be turned off like a light switch.

Unsurprisingly, your inner turmoil made itself evident on shift.

Everyone at 51 noticed your withdrawn behavior. How you didn't join in teasing Herrmann with Ritter, Gallo, and Violet. How you barely listened to Joe telling you a story about Javi. You kept to yourself, and if you were around anyone, you were quiet. You made sure not to let your emotions cloud your mind when it came to the job. On calls, you were focussed and followed orders like normal.

It was so noticeable that Chief Boden called Stella into his office and asked if she knew what was going on. “I wish I knew, Chief. I have a hunch it has something to do with Carver, but it's not like I can ask him, and L/N isn't opening up anytime soon.” She told him, concern lacing her tone. She was worried about you, her closest friend.

“Well whatever is going on, I trust you, as her Lieutenant, to bring the L/N we all know and love back,” Boden said in a serious tone.

You didn't even show up to your shift at Molly's, calling in sick to Herrmann.

~8~

The next shift, Carver showed up without a trace of “sickness”. You froze when you first laid eyes on him. Despite knowing you'd run into him eventually, you hadn't actually prepared how to even remotely act around him. So when he made eye contact with you, you pivoted and walked in the opposite direction. Little did you know Carver was in the same awkward predicament as you. He had no idea what to even say to you.

Before he could chase after you, the alarm sounded. “Truck 81, Engine 51, Ambulance 61, residential fire. 2935 Point Street.”

Sighing in frustration, Carver ran out onto the apparatus floor and jumped into 81. As he got his gear on, he tried to catch your eye, but you were determined not to meet it. So you were definitely ignoring him now, not that he didn't deserve it. Although he couldn't dwell on personal feelings, he had to focus on the call.

When you arrived on scene, you exited 81 and gazed at the house that was engulfed in flames. Standing at a safe radius were a man and woman who was holding a little girl in her arms, all of which were covered in ash.

“Oh thank God! Our sons, Billy and Mark, they're still in there, you have to save them, please! Save my babies!” The mother pleaded desperately, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Chief Boden exited his car and ushered the family over to Brett and Mikami. “My firefighters are gonna do all they can Ma'am, now let's get you all checked out,” he said.

“Alright, Hermann, I need a line in there. L/N, Gallo, you two search upstairs. Carver, Mouch, you two with me on the main floor. Let's go!” Stella ordered. You quickly secured your breathing apparatus on your face before following your Lieutenant into the burning house.

As you charged into the building, the crackling blaze intensified, casting ominous shadows on the smoke-filled rooms. Your heart raced, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you maneuvered through the labyrinth of flames. You and Gallo quickly made it upstairs. “Fire department, call out!” You shouted as you combed through every room.

“Clear!” You yelled to Gallo, exiting the bathroom.

“This room’s clear too!” Gallo replied, walking out of the parents' room.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion echoed through the house, sending tremors beneath your feet. “Chief, we found one boy, Carver's bringing him out now,” Kidd reported. Half the weight was lifted from your shoulders at the news.

“I want everyone out of there that roof isn't gonna hold,” Boden ordered.

You grabbed your radio and spoke, “Chief, Gallo and I haven't cleared the entire second floor.” You had one more room to search through.

“That wasn't a request L/N, get yourselves out of that house right now,” Boden repeated sternly.

You gazed back at the bedroom, your heart breaking, knowing that little boy could be hiding in there. Gallo, too, wanted to argue but with Boden radioing again, and hearing the roof moving above…you both had no choice.

You and Gallo were halfway down the stairs when you heard it. A knock coming from the room. It was like you were on autopilot. Without notifying your partner, you sprinted back upstairs.

“Fire department, call out!” You yelled desperately, looking around the room frantically. A knock came from the closet, and you rushed and opened it to reveal a little boy hiding in a pile of clothes.

You crouched down and tried to provide some comfort to the fear riddled child. “Hi buddy, everything's going to be okay, I'm gonna get you out of here,” you told him softly, smiling.

You quickly took off your breathing apparatus and placed it on him. When you asked for his name, he answered Mark. “Okay Mark, I need you to hold onto me as tight as you can, like you're giving me a bear hug, got it?” You instructed, breaking off into a coughing fit from the smoke entering your lungs. Mark nodded and gripped you tightly as you picked up in your arms.

As you made your way out the door, your radio sounded. “L/N report!” Boden shouted from the other line.

Still keeping hold of Mark, you answered. “On my way Ch-”

You were cut off by the roof crumbling above you.

~8~

After handing Billy over to Brett and Mikami, Carver moved to go back into the house when Boden made the call to evacuate. He looked up at the roof, which was going to fail any minute, and watched his crew exit one by one…except for you.

“Gallo, where's L/N?” Kidd questioned.

Gallo glanced behind him, surprised, making Carver's stomach drop. “I- she was right behind me. She must've gone back to clear that last room,” Gallo answered with wide eyes.

“I'll get her,” Carver volunteered immediately, already getting his breathing apparatus ready.

“No, no one's going in there. That is an order. Stand down, all of you,” Boden said curtly. Everything in Carver wanted to protest. You were still in there. What if you were hurt? What if you got trapped?

Ignoring his ansty firefighters, Boden calmly radioed you. “L/N report.”

Carver breathed out when he heard your voice sounding from the other line. “On my way Ch-”

You were cut off just as everyone watched part of the house's roof collapse. Without thinking, Carver started bolting towards the house only to be restrained by Mouch and Gallo.

“Let me go! She's still in there, we can't just leave her, she needs help! Y/N!” Carver screamed, tears brimming his eyes. He didn't get the chance to tell you how sorry he was for pushing you away. How it took his Lieutenant banging on his apartment door and lecturing him to make him realize how much he messed up.

~~

After calling in sick to Kylie, Sam spent the entire day just sitting in his apartment with a beer in hand. Your devastated face after yesterday's conversation haunted him. And each time it did, a beer bottle would shatter.

Just when he had the thought to clean up the mess of self-destructive rage, a series of hard knocks sounded from his front door. Composing himself to the best of his abilities, Sam dragged himself to the door, praying it wasn't you behind it. It wasn’t. It was his lieutenant.

Sam let out an irritated breath at seeing her. Stella glanced down at the beer he was holding. “Wow,” she remarked, disappointed.

“What are you doing here?” Sam questioned, almost fidgeting under her eyes.

“I came to check on you,” Stella answered. “And clearly, you're not okay,” she stated factually.

“I'm good. I... I just…” Sam stumbled, but Stella pressed on.

“You know you left me high and dry...no notice, no call, no text,” she listed stoically.

“I was sick. I told Kylie,” Sam defended.

But Stella Kidd was nothing if not a truth seeker. A bold one at that. “Do not lie to me. You are not sick,” she stated sternly. Sam looked away in slight embarrassment at being called out.

Stella sighed, and her tone softened, “I know the visit from your brother was rough, but this isn't the way to handle it.”

Sam was unsurprised that his Lieutenant knew about his business with Nathan. He wasn't naive to not believe you wouldn't share some details with your friends.

“I have given you as much slack as I can, but, Carver, I am out of rope. If I can't trust you. I can't work with you. It's that simple. You either show up next shift, ready to be straight with me, or you are done at 51,” Stella warned. She started to walk away before pausing.

“And Carver?” She called out, making the man look up at her from his frozen position at his doorway.

“You'll be pleased to know that whatever happened between you and L/N has completely wrecked her. You know you can push me away. You can push the rest of 51 away, but not L/N. She doesn't deserve this. Not after giving her entire heart out only for it to be ripped into pieces by some inconsiderate idiot she really cared for,” Stella ranted, the protectiveness and anger she had on your behalf spilling through.

She knew her next words were cruel, but maybe they'd be enough to knock some sense into the firefighter.

“So congratulations, Carver, you effectively managed to wipe the smile off L/N’s face for an entire shift, maybe for the near future, and we both how it's nearly impossible to do that. I hope you're happy.” And then she left, leaving behind a shame ridden Carver hanging his head with utter regret over what he’d done.

~~

Was this some sort of punishment? To be held back from a burning building, forced to witness the woman he loved lose her life. An enraged scream tore from his mouth. He ignored everyone and everything, burning his gaze into the cold ground beneath. You were gone. You had died thinking he hated you and the fact was killing him.

“L/N!” “She's out!” “We got you!”

Carver's head shot up at his crew's exclamations, and he saw Gallo,

Kidd, and Mouch crowd you. Struggling to catch your breath, you handed Mark over to Gallo and let your Lieutenant look you over.

“L/N, you good? Any injuries?” Kidd questioned with worry.

Still expelling smoke from your lungs, you couldn't answer but merely shook your head as you coughed.

You were covered in ash but seemed to be physically fine. Once his eyes had searched every inch of you and found nothing wrong, Carver leaped to his feet, ran over, and pulled you into a tight hug. “Oh thank God,” he choked out, screwing his eyes shut in relief as your arms slowly wrapped around his waist.

“Alright, I hate to break up the heartfelt reunion, but we need to get you to check out L/N,” Kidd interrupted, barely containing the smile on her face.

Carver didn't leave your side as the paramedics checked you over. Luckily, you only had some minor smoke inhalation, which was an easy fix with some oxygen.

Carver cleared his throat, unsure what to say. This was your first time talking since everything, and definitely not how he pictured it. “You uh, had us worried there for a second. I was ready to drag you out myself,” he remarked light-heartedly. You merely stared back at him blankly, holding the oxygen mask over your nose.

Carver sighed, “Look Y/N I-”

You cut him off, lifting the mask and expelling some coughs. “It's L/N. We're still on call right now, Carver, and this is a workplace, remember?”

Your use of his words made him flinch. Seeing as you couldn't stand the sight of him, let alone listen to anything he said, Carver wordlessly walked away from the ambulance. But he was far from done at getting you to forgive him.

[knowltonsrangers]

If you still looking for requests, I'd love to see the reader rescuing Ben or Nathan from some sort of a sticky situation/kidnapping or whatnot. I mean, them rescuing reader is always a chance for delicious angst- but the other way around kinda subverts the damsel in distress trope

[a/n: my brain immediately went to both. I hope that’s okay! thank you for requesting!]

Nathan Hale x reader x Benjamin Tallmagde

The rope has gnawed enough of his skin around his wrists that every time he shifts, a shooting pain runs up his arm and causes his teeth to grind against each other

“Must you keep moving?”

The flaxen-blonde tied up at his back whispers, in a major state of discomfort himself.

“I am trying to—“

“Quiet!”

The solider at their front turns around to bark a command, wrinkling his nose distastefully at the sight of the two of them, as if their mere presence caused a general loss of appetite.

“Sorry, sorry…”

Nathan breathes, a laugh tickling at the back of his throat. Ben hears it before it can turn into something more, successfully hushing the Captain before he got them both in any more trouble.

Benjamin sighs, tilting his head backwards until it rests gently against Nathan’s back, the man jumping slightly at the unknown contact, then immediately relaxes his shoulders.

“Are you trying to see the sky? I’ve forgotten what day it is…was.”

Nathan whispers, barely audible in his ear as he turns enough to catch Ben’s gaze.

“No. I am counting how many beams are in this barn.”

“Your sarcasm precedes you, Damon.”

“I am serious—“

The redcoat shoots them a look that rattles the brass on his belts, enough to wordlessly say that if he catches them again they’ll likely be sorry.

Ben nods, swallowing thickly and then returns to his previous act.

Nathan begins scanning the barn, shuffling uncomfortably on the straw that littered the floor. Likely looking for an out, a simple way to make a quick exit.

Suddenly, out of thin air, a bullet whizzes across the room, far away enough from the both of them, straight past the soldier, causing him to jump in surprise and spin wildly around.

“Who–?”

It’s a question that goes unanswered, as from an similar direction, a second failed bullet goes right past the target, causing him to back straight against the wall of the barn and slip out the door, likely to gather reinforcements.

Out from the top floor of the barn, you descend the ladder, nearly falling a few times before regaining your footing and hopping down at the bottom.

“Who is it?”

Nathan asks, unable to see who with the direction he faces.

“Are you alright?”

It’s a silly question, clearly not, but Ben can’t help the stupid smile that washes over his features at the sight of you with his pistol, sliding onto your knees to begin undoing the knots of the rope.

“y/n!”

Nathan chirps, the first to be free, standing up and stretching his arms over his head.

“Hi,”

You breathe in relief.

“He’ll likely be back soon,”

Ben mumbles, flexing his fingers as he is finally freed from the agonizing pain of the rope burns.

“We’ll be long gone before he does.”

The Major wobbles to shaky feet, then is met with surprise as you hand his flintlock back over to him.

“I wasn’t trying to kill him, but you’re a better shot than me.”

“Good work, y/n,”

His hand comes to your back, then Nathan grabs your hand, his opposite pulling Ben’s arm.

“Best we get going, yeah?”

You can’t help it, the smile that worms its way to your rosy cheeks as Nathan tugs you along, out from the barn and into the woods.

“Thanks for the rescue.”

Nathan hums, just when you’re far enough away to ease your pace, just a bit.

“Anytime. Couldn’t leave my two boys to sleep in a barn, could I?”

“You could have left Nathan,”

Ben jests, and you laugh.

“I’m happy to save you guys any day the week,”

The whole way back to camp, the only thing on Ben’s mind was how good of a shot you actually had to be to miss intentionally with a jammed trigger.

[bumblesimagines]

Midnight Beach

Part 7

Request: Yes or No

Attempting to do a taglist for this series but know that my memory is horrible and I might forget sometimes! Some tags may not work so apologies for that!

Taglist: @hyubg @nathan-no

~~~

Barry and Rafe's voices sounded muffled to him. Distorted and distant. They went back and forth, debating and switching plans. As if they'd done this plenty of times. As if they weren't planning on spilling blood. (Y/N) stared out the window, fingers slowly rubbing over the bruises that had formed on his skin. His thoughts both ran and remained still. His body felt numb and cold. The whole goddamn car reeked, strengthening the growing migraine in his head. Barry's dark eyes glanced at him through the rearview mirror, suspicious and pitiful. 

Was he about to be a bystander to a murder?

Was his friend truly the one who'd shot and killed Sherrif Peterkin?

Only one answer came to mind for both questions. Yes. Because Rafe Cameron was volatile, impulsive, and bloodthirsty. And he'd backed (Y/N) into a corner where his only choices were to risk becoming another skeleton in the Cameron's family closet or go along with whatever sick plan had morphed in their twisted heads. (Y/N) squeezed his eyes shut when the car slowed to a stop and he shakily inhaled through his mouth. Barry turned in his seat, his gun glittering in the moonlight shining through the windows. 

"Tranquillo. You feel me?" Barry spoke quietly, watching Rafe closely. He turned his head toward the back where (Y/N) sat and raised his brow at him, practically sneering. "You especially. Stay behind us and stay fuckin' quiet, aight? Let's be smart about this. I'd hate to break your face 'cause you switched up on us."

"He's cool, Barry. I told you already. I got him if shit goes south." The fuck did that mean? (Y/N) swallowed thickly and pushed the car door open, stepping out into the dark night. Looking down the path leading up to John B's place, he could see lights in the distance. Someone had to be home. A mix of hope and despair bubbled up in his stomach and the car doors closing felt like death sentences. Rafe nodded for him to follow them, tightly holding his gun in his hands. No matter how many times (Y/N) tugged his jacket closer to his body, he still felt so cold.

He followed the two up to the edge of the property and relief flooded him when he couldn't spot anyone in the front yard. Beer cans, used blunts, and random garbage had been scattered around the grass and the hot tub appeared to have been used so somebody must've been around recently. The two men craned their necks in search of the teenagers, whispering back and forth until Barry slipped away from Rafe's side and crept around toward a back door leading into the house. Rafe glanced back at (Y/N), only having to look at him to let him know he wanted (Y/N) to follow him into the yard. Rafe searched the yard, stumbling upon a firepit that'd been recently used.

(Y/N) stilled by the firepit, gazing around the yard until his eyes slowly crept up the large tree. Three familiar faces stared wide-eyed back down at him. JJ brought a shakey pleading finger to his lips while John B's features hardened into a venomous glare. But his attention didn't linger on the two. Instead, it focused on the blonde girl alongside them.

Sarah fucking Cameron.

Alive, healthy, and scared shitless.

(Y/N) looked forward again and cleared his throat, searching for Kiara and Pope's hiding places until he noticed he couldn't spot the HMS Pogue at the end of the dock. "Rafe, the boat's gone. They probably left to get more beer." Rafe turned toward the dock and squinted through the darkness, a curse falling softly from his lips. A glass broke and (Y/N) turned around, watching Barry angrily toss open the porch door and step out.

"Ain't shit in there, bro." He barked and Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"(Y/N) thinks they left to get beer 'cause the boat's gone," Rafe told him, motioning over to the dock and beginning to pace. "I mean, shit, they couldn't have gone far. Maybe they're coming back now. We just gotta- We just gotta..." Rafe trailed off and halted his pacing, staring at the trunk of the tree with knitted brows. (Y/N) stepped forward and turned, spotting the burnt writing on the trunk. A makeshift gravestone for John B. Rafe began giggling.

"So, your sister's a Pogue for life, huh, Rafe? Now who would've thought?" Barry snickered but his words made Rafe stop. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, muscles flexing slightly as he stared at the words written on the trunk. His breathing grew uneven and (Y/N) glanced at Barry before flinching and reeling away when Rafe lifted his hand and shot at the tree, the sound echoing in his ears. Barry sprung forward, quickly restraining Rafe's arms and scolding him. 

"You're gonna get our asses busted, bro! Let's bounce." Barry shoved Rafe forward and quickly took off in the direction of the car in case a neighboring house called the police to report the gunshots. (Y/N) walked forward, avoiding looking up toward the branches where the three were still hiding. Rafe spared one last look at the house before taking (Y/N)'s wrist and running into the foliage back to the car. (Y/N) yanked the car door open and climbed in, nearly stumbling onto the floor of the car when Barry stepped on the pedal and reversed down the path. He collapsed back and breathed a heavy sigh, eyes squeezing shut again. 

"Take me home."

"(Y/N)-"

"Barry, take me home or drop me off somewhere. I don't give a shit, just let me out of this fucking car!" (Y/N)'s eyes opened and he met Rafe's, jaw clenched and chest heaving. "I'm not going to snitch on either of you because I know what'll happen if I even think about it. Whatever shit you two have planned, keep me out of it."

"You promised, (Y/N)-"

"And you're fuckin' crazy, Rafe." (Y/N) shot back and took in another deep breath. His eyes met Barry's in the rearview mirror and the dealer silently pulled over, letting him get out of the car and onto the sidewalk before peeling off. (Y/N) pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart quickening with each passing second and his stomach lurching violently. Bile rose up and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep it down. His lunch and a mixture of fluids splattered on the sidewalk and he groaned, rubbing his mouth with the back of his wrist. He placed his hands on his knees as tears pricked the back of his eyes. 

"Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck." (Y/N) whispered, staggering back and falling onto the grass beside the sidewalk. He pulled his knees to his chest and covered his face with his hands, sniffling softly. His heart yearned for his parents. A desire to melt into their arms and cry until the tears no longer ran. But he didn't have the luxury. Instead, he allowed himself a couple of seconds to cry before getting himself together and making his way back home.

                    ✽        ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽

John Booker Routledge had willingly handed himself over to the police after a brief chase through the marshes. Sherriff Peterkin's murderer would be brought to justice after a long month of waiting. That's what the radios and news stations claimed anyways. But the longer (Y/N) stared at the courthouse from the safety of his car, the longer he grew uncertain of who to believe. Ward's worried stares whenever (Y/N) hung around Rafe, the quiet conversations the father and son would have, Rafe's erratic nature growing more unpredictable after Peterkin's death. Rafe knew how to shoot a gun. He'd proven it the other night. He'd done it so casually and with ease. 

It'd been why he remained in his car. He couldn't walk into the courthouse and take a seat after what'd happened the previous night. He wouldn't be able to look Ward in the eye, not after everything Rafe had said and done. (Y/N) could still hear the gunshot, could still see the fear on JJ and Sarah's faces, could still feel Rafe's controlling hold on his skin. His eyes caught movement at the doors of the courthouse, waves of people exiting the old building. Most, if not all, looked beyond happy. They shared smiles and hugs, nodding to the officers present. Among the crowd piled out the Pogues with a mix of rage, disappointment, and sadness on their faces.

"Shit.." He breathed and looked forward, teeth digging against the inside of his cheek. His hands on the steering wheel tightened and untightened, breathing growing labored. Images of the previous night flashed in his mind, combined with the feeling of fingers on his throat. He tried blinking away those images and shakily turned the engine on, pulling out of the parking spot and driving aimlessly down the street. He knew everything, he knew everything. Would Rafe hurt him? Would he go after him? Would Ward turn on him? 

Turning into a random parking lot, (Y/N) stepped on the brakes, seatbelt digging into his chest as his body nearly flew forward from the force. His head dropped down onto the steering wheel, eyes closing as he tried calming his breathing. His mind continued to run wild, forcing thoughts and assumptions that made his skin crawl. Rafe's words kept echoing in his head. The treasure, John B, Peterkin. Had Rafe been lying to him about those things? Pain spiked in his head and he leaned back with a groan. 

Soft knocking came from his window and he turned, spotting the top of Topper's head peering through the window. He raised a bag of Cheeto puffs in one hand and a pack of beers in the other, bushy brows wiggling playfully. (Y/N) snorted softly at the sight and turned his car off, lightly pushing the door open and hopping out. Upon closing the door, Topper slipped out one of the beer cans and offered it to him before tucking the pack under his arm and opening the bag.

"I, uh, saw you peelin' in and you looked upset so I thought I'd share some goodies with you." Topper explained with a boyish smile, offering the bag next. (Y/N) sniffled and chuckled softly, digging his hand into the bag and taking out a handful of puffs. 

"I'm... I had a rough night yesterday. Rafe and I... I-I can't be around him anymore." (Y/N) told him, eyes falling onto the pavement. He shoved a puff into his mouth, feeling the setting sun warming his back. Topper's brows knitted and he nodded slowly, lips forming an 'o'. 

"What happened? Did you have a fight or-or was he high and did something-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Top. Not now." (Y/N) sighed heavily and Topper nodded again, this time more rapidly. 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just... let me know what you need and I'll be happy to help." Topper smiled widely and (Y/N) couldn't help but return it. He tilted his body slightly to peer over his shoulder, the sparkling water in the distance catching his eye. He nodded toward it and the two began walking, letting a comfortable silence fall over them as they shared food and beer. Despite having a habit of throwing tantrums and getting defensive, he knew how to treat his friends.

(Y/N) watched the sky erupt into shades of orange, yellow, and pink when the sun began dipping over the horizon. Once out of view, the sky morphed into a blue that darkened over time until all they had were the lamps from the harbor in the distance and the moonlight guiding them. The area around them remained silent, apart from the sound of voices growing louder and louder, turning into angered shouts and then into desperate pleas. (Y/N) halted, recognizing the voices in seconds. A mind-numbing chill ran down his spine and the last can of beer slipped from his fingers. His feet moved on their own, rushing toward the harbor with Topper at his heels just in time to spot Rafe holding a squirming and panicking Sarah in a large canister of water. 

"Rafe!" (Y/N) ran forward, grabbing the back of Rafe's jacket and shoving him back into Topper who immediately landed a punch to Rafe's jaw, knocking him to the ground. He quickly scooped the weakened teen out of the water, relief flooding him when she gasped for air and coughed, hands and arms flying out toward him. Her nails lightly scratched his arms as she practically climbed onto him, arms gaining an iron grip on his shoulders and neck. (Y/N) stepped back, keeping his arms secured around Sarah's waist. He turned his head and looked down at Rafe. He took each hit Topper threw, even when blood trickled down his nose and lip.

"Topper, come on. Sarah's more important than him." (Y/N)'s words snapped Topper out of his rage and he heaved, wiping his bloodied knuckles on his spots and backing up. Sarah buried her face in his neck, legs weakly wrapping around him. Her body shook and trembled against him, quiet sobs coming from her lips. (Y/N) spared the bloodied and bruised Rafe another glance before following Topper back to the sidewalk. He fished out his car keys and tossed them to Topper, motioning for him to go ahead and bring the car back toward them. Topper nodded and ran in the direction of the car as (Y/N) carefully lowered Sarah onto a bench and brushed wet hair out of her face.

"(Y/N)," She cried, lips quivering. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt and she pulled herself out of the bench, arms wrapping around his neck again. Sighing quietly, (Y/N) slipped his arms around her waist, the familiarity of it making his head spin for a moment. Sarah pressed herself against him, breathing in his familiar smell and closing her eyes. Her shivering body relaxed and she nuzzled against his shoulder, inhaling deeply. Headlights appeared nearby and (Y/N) guided Sarah to his car, helping her get into the backseat before getting spare towels from the trunk. He wrapped them around her, rubbing them into her skin and clothes. 

Turning around in the driver's seat, Topper licked his lips and spoke, "I know a place we can go where you both can stay."

                    ✽        ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽       ✽

Sunlight draped over his eyes and made him turn his head. His face brushed against soft hair and his brows furrowed, eyes cracking open. His vision looked blurry and as he regained consciousness, he noticed his body was pinned under something heavy. Blinking away his drowsiness and adjusting his vision to the brightness of the room, he took in the small unfamiliar home around him. The heaviness on his chest and stomach shifted and his gaze snapped down, meeting a head full of blonde hair. His still groggy mind failed to replay the events of the previous night but from the fact he still had his clothes on, he assumed whatever had gone down had been innocent enough. 

"Uh," He cleared his throat and the person shifted again, head tilting up and revealing his ex. He froze and tensed, the fog in his brain lifting as the memories rushed back. Right, that's right. Rafe had tried to drown his sister and Topper had taken them to a small place he'd gotten for himself on the bank. Sarah's eyes remained closed with her lips slightly parted and a dribble of drool beginning to slip out. He almost chuckled at the sight. Sarah Cameron had always been such an odd person to watch when she slept. She'd sometimes contort herself into the weirdest of sleeping positions but still managed to awake without any neck or back cramps. She snored- something she always refused to admit- and almost constantly drooled onto her pillow, especially after long days. And yet, even with the drool and bedhair, she still looked near perfect in the mornings.  

"Morning, sleepyheads." (Y/N) glanced back at Topper when he quietly entered, balancing two trays of food on each hand. His eyes momentarily left the trays to look at him and flash him a quick smile before his lips pressed together and his eyes focused on the trays. He took quietly and carefully walked across the room to the counter and breathed a sigh of relief. He grinned triumphantly and nodded to himself. (Y/N) slowly tried dragging himself out from underneath Sarah without disturbing her, but his movements caused the girl to stir and open her eyes. Her lips formed a pout and she stared sleepily at him, squinting slightly. Her eyes suddenly widened and she scrambled away, falling back onto her rump on the other end of the couch.

"Sorry!" She squeaked and (Y/N) waved her off, shaking his head and swinging his legs over the edge of the couch. He stood up and adjusted his shirt, lips pressing into a thin smile. He averted his eyes from the blonde and turned toward Topper when he spoke.

"So, I got ya'll some breakfast." Topper picked up the tray with the orange juice, croissant, and scrambled eggs on the side. He gingerly set it on her lap and motioned to the phone on the tray. "I got you this so you can keep in touch with us in case of an emergency or if you just want to chat." 

"Thank you." Sarah breathed, licking her lips and eyeing everything on her plate hungrily. (Y/N) snorted quietly and sat down at the table across the couch, quietly thanking Topper when he brought him the tray with three pancakes, bacon, and sunny-side-up eggs. His stomach rumbled at the sight of breakfast. Topper brought him some syrup and proudly smiled when the two dug into the food he made. 

"I'll get the Malibu ready and we can head out once you've two eaten and caught up, alright?" Topper gave them a thumbs up and walked out, closing the door behind him and approaching his precious boat. (Y/N) licked some syrup from the corner of his lip and looked up at Sarah, watching her eagerly devour the croissant as if her life depended on it. Her eyes flickered over to his and she paused, pulling her face away from the croissant and wiping the crumbs off her face with the back of her wrist. She chewed and swallowed the chunk in her mouth, getting some orange juice and smiling awkwardly at him.

"It's good to see you honestly. I've had... a crazy week." 

"I had a crazy month thinking you were dead." The smile fell and she looked away. "Honestly, Sarah, I was expecting to bury an empty casket in your name by the end of the year. I... I thought you'd died out at sea after you rode into that storm. And then, fucking Rafe goes crazy with his coke and Barry and- and-" (Y/N) inhaled deeply and clamped his mouth shut, shoving his fork into the pancakes and rubbing his forehead. He finished the rest of his plate and stood, walking toward the sink and placing his plate inside. Arms slipped around his waist and Sarah rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For how things ended, for making you worry." She apologized softly, pressing her lips to his shoulder and kissing it sweetly. "And thank you for the other night. If you hadn't thrown them off our trail... Who knows what Rafe and Barry would've done to us." 

"I was doing what was right." (Y/N) muttered and turned around, leaning back against the sink. Sarah's arms remained loosely around his waist, staring at him with warm eyes he always found himself lost in. She smiled at him and stepped closer, her lips parting to speak but he pulled her arms from his waist and stepped around her, walking toward the doors and stepping outside onto the dock to help Topper with the Malibu until Sarah was ready to head back to John B's place. 

The ride back was silent, apart from Topper occasionally attempting to make light conversation. It took him four tries before he realized the two had no intentions of keeping a conversation flowing like they used to. (Y/N) stared out into the marches, watching large houses become trees and then become mobile homes and overrun houses. Among them, John B's place. The Pogue's had already been out on the boat and upon closer look, a familiar face was back with them. 

"John B? John B!" Sarah jumped to her feet, excitedly calling out to the brunette. (Y/N) shared an exasperated look with Topper and stood up, holding on while Topper stopped the boat by the HMS Pogue. Sarah sprung from one boat to the other, jumping into John B's arm for a tight embrace. "What happened?!"

"Uh, they dropped all the charges. I'm a free man, yeah." John B explained, chuckling as Sarah threw her arms around him again and laughed. He rubbed her back and sighed, grimacing and pulling away to speak again. "But listen, Sarah, they're coming after Rafe."

"Good." Sarah exhaled in relief. (Y/N) felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "He's completely unhinged. He jumped me last night. That's why I didn't come back." 

"Yeah, man. Rafe has completely lost his mind. First, I find (Y/N) all shaken up in a parking lot because of him, and then he tries drowning his own sister. I mean, thank god we got there just in time." Topper told them and Kiara's gaze jumped to (Y/N) instantly, her eyes zoning in on the marks on his neck. She frowned at him and it only deepened when he averted his eyes.

John B's jaw clenched and he scoffed quietly under his breath, tapping his thumb on the boat and nodding. "Well, I guess I owe you two, don't I?" He spoke through gritted teeth.

"It's all good. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend." Topper's lips quirked into a small smirk and (Y/N) grunted, rolling his eyes at Topper.

"That's funny because she's not actually my girlfriend, right? You wanna tell 'em?" John B turned toward Sarah with a smug look, quirking a brow at her. Sarah pursed her lips and ran a hand through her hair, staring at her boyfriend for an awkward moment before shrugging lightly and looking at them, gaze lingering on (Y/N).

"I'm- I'm with him." 

"Yeah, we gathered that." (Y/N) responded, nearly snickering at the way John B's face fell at her answer. Kiara sucked in a sharp breath and winced at John B's face, looking away from the couple and scratching the back of her neck. Topper laughed and nodded, basking in the embarrassment rolling off John B in waves. (Y/N) lightly nudged the side of his leg and Topper stepped back, snickers still leaving him as he turned the boat back on and prepared to leave. 

"Guys, hey, thank you." Sarah stepped forward toward (Y/N) and reached out, wrapping her arms around him. (Y/N) wrapped an arm around her waist and returned the hug, making eye contact with John B. The brunette watched them with a glare and scoffed again, tearing his eyes away when the two pulled away from each other. A prickle of satisfaction entered (Y/N)'s veins and he nodded to the other three. Kiara leaned forward, pushing the sunglasses up onto the top of her head and smiling at him.

"Since I'm sure Topper's busy-" Topper scoffed. "-We definitely have room for one more if you wanna hang, (Y/N)." Kiara offered, earning nods of agreement from JJ and Pope. John B whirled his head around to stare at her with wide eyes. 

"I appreciate it, Kie. But I'd rather be alone for a while. Maybe some other day."

[freakmenticide]

you wanna mess around? + ( trace )     for the sender to trace their finger of the receiver’s body. + ( lap )     for the sender to sit on the receiver’s lap. - hee. hee hee. nathan and guard mark ..... perchance at nates apartment and waiting for time to go by. :3c.

what in the world is happening . . . ? mark can HEAR the way he swallows back a grunt when nate slides into his lap , feels the way his face gets instantaneously hot , and KNOWS he must look like some fucking nerd right now . like a prude who'd never touched another person in his LIFE , which couldn't be farther from the case . all things considered , out of EVERYONE at freddy's he liked to put himself towards the top of most socially well equipped ( you know , minus the whole intense paranoia thing at times ) , someone who could talk and charm himself out of and INTO anything or anyone . for a moment , mark doesn't even know if he's SUPPOSED to touch nate . he assumed they could say they were close , going from working together at one pizzeria than to the other in some twisted lines of fate ; but , other than that mark wasn't sure if he'd even ever FELT an attraction to nathan . maybe ? probably . . . ? he can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up as his realizes his eyes are simply bouncing around nate's features , an almost awestruck look on his face . okay , yeah , he couldn't lie to himself .

nathan was an odd person to get close to , having his own quirks that made him an outcast ; but , they always made MARK laugh . HE thought nate was normal , was funny , personable , maybe hadn't portrayed that the best when they first met after seven years ; but , could you blame him ? he barely RECOGNIZED nate at the time without his glasses ! the guard feels his breath coming in shuddered , almost silent , waves as fair fingers coast down his white shirt , and finally he KNOWS where he can put his hands . it's like the cogs in his head started turning , stopped producing smoke , and the words that had been spoken to him made a semblance of sense ; and now , after what felt like forever , the raven gives a warm laugh and brings his hands to rest on nathan's hips , adjusting his own so the other's weight settled comfortably in his lap .

" what ? the aderaline of comin' t' get me got you worked up or something ? " his grin is lopsided , the vibrant red flush simmer along his cheeks as he positively beams up at nathan . " sure , " his head tilts , a brow cocked as he looked up at the raven , " how'd you wanna ' mess around ' , mr. schmidt ? "

@murdersin