#she doesn’t know shit about house besides all the edits i force them to watch

[cmkren]

house fanfiction written by my friend today @ lunch

[pilothusband]

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie​ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤��� This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even. 

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.” 

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin. 

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree. 

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths. 

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment. 

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?” 

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” 

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms. 

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair,  but your arms aren’t long enough to reach. 

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

 “Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing. 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

 He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

 “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

 You moan and break the kiss.

 “Want to take this to my room?”

 He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

 “I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

 “Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

 “So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

 Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

 “So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern. 

 “No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

 Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace. 

 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

 “Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly. 

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

 The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes. 

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

[riverisnotsafe]

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

[isthisthingeven0n]

where does loyalty lie? : d.d

brief summary: whilst editing a vlog, david comes across footage of your boyfriend cheating on you at a party

word count: 1.1k requested: yes by @squishybebe​ thank you for requesting this! warnings: some angst, heartbreak and strong language

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

“Jason!” David yells from his bedroom whilst his eyes remain glued to the screen, rewinding the footage to ensure what he’s seeing is real.

Moments later, Jason rushes through the door to see David perfectly relaxed on his bed. “David,” Jason sighs as he pants heavily before walking closer, seeing David furrow his brows together.

“Watch this.” David pushes his laptop toward Jason, scanning his expression as the footage plays.

As it comes to an end, Jason’s expression remains neutral. “What?” Jason questions, causing David to roll his eyes before replaying the footage.

“Look closely, okay?” David sits beside his friend this time, watching closely as he presses play.

David relives that night as the screen pans around the room of people drinking, talking and dancing. Snippets of Zane doing shots, you singing with Carly and Natalie pouring vodka into Todd's mouth all play. Yet, hidden in the last clip is a crucial detail David can’t comprehend is real.

Hitting the space bar to pause the video, David turns back to Jason. “Did you see it?” He questions once again, but Jason shakes his head.

A sigh leaves David’s lips as he rewinds the clip by a few seconds, pausing on the exact moment and points it out.

“Oh my fucking god.” Jason covers his mouth as he focuses on the image before looking up at David. “She’ll be heartbroken, Dave.” Jason sighs as David nods, now in a dilemma.

“What do I do?” David thinks aloud, running his fingers through his hair. “I, I can’t upload that. I’ve searched through the rest of the footage and there’s more to prove it wasn’t just a one-time thing.” David admits, knowing the footage is saved in a separate file.

“Fuck.” Jason stands up, pacing around the room whilst David is unable to tear his eyes from the screen. “I mean, you have to tell her. You can’t let her carry on and not know.” Jason explains, knowing it won’t be easy, but necessary.

“I, I don’t want to hurt her, she’s our friend, Jase.” David speaks up, seeing your face beside Natalie as you wear a bright smile, mid-laugh across his screen. “How am I supposed to tell her this?”

Jason walks over, perching on the edge of the bed as he rests a hand on David’s shoulder. “It won’t be easy, but she needs to know the truth.”

*

“Hey, David!” You happily walk into the house with everyone's coffee orders, passing them around to Natalie, Jason and David.

Everyone quietly thanks you, but you watch as they all keep their eyes remain fixated on the ground.

“Something up?” You question with a light laugh, looking around as David lifts his eyes up, focusing on you. “David?”

David sighs under his breath before he stands up. “I wanna show you something.” He motions for you to follow him, and silently you oblige whilst Natalie and Jason exchanged a concerned look, knowing what you’re about to witness won’t be easy.

Wandering into David’s room, you stand by the doorway still holding your coffee. “What’s going on?” You ask as David sits on his bed, grabbing a hold of his laptop and putting it on his lap.

“You know the party the other night?” David questions, watching as you nod in response. “Well, I was going through the footage from that night, and I saw something that you need to see.” 

“Okay.” You hesitantly answer, walking over and sit beside David. 

Opening his laptop, David pulls the footage as you shuffle closer next to him. Your armrests against his as you focus on the screen, a small smile lining your lips as you watch back a condensed version of that night.

“It sure was crazy.” You chuckle, but David remains quiet as a frown crosses his lips. You continue to watch, but as the footage of Natalie, you and Todd play you can’t help but look behind Todd and tense up. “Replay that for me?” You ask David quietly, wondering if it were just a mistake.

Glancing down at you, David can see you focusing intently on the footage. Your eyes fixate on the corner, and as that clip plays you immediately rise to your feet as a cocktail of emotions hits you like a tidal wave.

“Y/n-” David calls out as you storm from his room, heading to the front door without saying anything.

As you march through the house, both Natalie and Jason try to stop you, but it’s no use. You’re wearing determination heavy as you shoved Jason aside, slamming the front door behind you without another word being uttered about what you just witnessed.

Walking out from his room, David exhales heavily as Natalie and Jason turn to face him. “She didn’t even say anything.” David speaks up before grabbing his keys. “I need to calm her down.” He mutters before leaving the house, following you back to your own place where the issue lies.

Within minutes of you having pulled up, David was hot on your tail as he rushes inside your house to hear you screaming and crying.

“Who the fuck was she?!” You scream as tears slide down your cheeks whilst your boyfriend is frozen in the corner of your bedroom, watching as you force his clothes into a suitcase. “You threw away two years for some fucking girl! Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

Before you can lunge forward, a pair of arms hold you back. “Y/n, don’t.” David comments as you collapse down into his arms, sobbing into his chest. “Go, now.” David spits at your now ex-boyfriend who grabs his things, exiting without even apologising.

“He never said sorry, he, he’s been doing it for months.” The words struggle to leave your lips as it doesn’t feel real. “I, I can’t believe it.” You choke on your sentence as another sob erupts from your chest and you bury your face further into David’s hoodie, holding on for dear life.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/n.” David rubs his hand up and down your back as your cries become silent as the pain sets in, the strings holding your heart up finally fraying until broken.

“What if that was it?” You whisper, looking up with a watery gaze as your lower lip trembles. “What if I never find a good guy, what if that was as good as it’ll get?” Doubts circle your thoughts as you look over to the dip in the bed, the creased pillow he was lying on minutes prior.

“Hey,” David brings his hand up to your cheek, wiping away tears with his thumb. “it’ll get better,” He mutters as he leans down, kissing the top of your head as you close your eyes. “you just have to give it time.”

[slater-later]

Clarence x Reader Flirt at the Bar

Audience: General

Warnings: None, flirting

Notes: At Y/N, insert your own name, pronouns, and preferred complimentary words. That way, Clarence uses what you like!

Read below the cuff!

For: @da3m0ns-exe

The two of you had met at an Irish pub a few blocks down the street. Dimly lit under the cheap green ‘chandeliers’, at least, they were trying to be, hanging over a narrow line of booths. A green shamrock sign buzzing in the corner window, listing O’ Conners next to the four leafed sign buzzing beside it.

It was a fine dump, gritty and warm and thick with cigarette smoke. A few old geezers sat at the bar, buzzing back large thick dark beers as they chatted in Greek. It was Detroit after all, and everyone was welcome. The D brought everyone together. And if you had a few bucks to spare, it would make your night worth while. The jukebox buzzed in the corner, firmly set from the 70’s and stacked high with classic 45’s. A quarter would get you two songs, and it would flip through the rest. Buzzing Marvin Gaye’s Through the Grape Vine through the open speakers. There were a few TV’s in the corner of the bar, one showing a Tigers baseball game and the other the racetrack. A chestnut filly bending over the corner and splitting from the pack. Her jockey lit a firecracker from out under her behind as he rode her to the front, cracking his crop as they crossed the finish line. Taking home 50k- something a brod in the corner was upset by. Throwing her hands up as she watched, swearing! Because she had bet the bar that #5 would win. California Folly, the chestnut mare, bit her for the win, and she slapped up her cash to the house. Her buddy chuckled to himself at her anger. The bartender greedily took her cash, smirking, as he slipped it into the cash register. He changed the chalk boards odds for the next race. A commercial flashed across the screen.

It was a bettin’ bar, and it was a Friday night. That meant, the race tracks were on. They even caught the signal from the tracks out West. Meaning people could get drunk and lose their money all night long. At least, far enough into the night to be firmly fucked by 10, and either pissed from losing their money or giddy because they made a decent buck. Either way, it meant the crowd pounded back drinks. The bar took home a load whether it was packed full or filled with crickets. 

Clarence was seated up at the bar, his army jacket slipped off and hanging on his chair. He slowly leafed through his comic, head buried deep in his book. He slowly drank, the rum and coke sitting at the edge of his lips, relaxed and quiet after a long day at work. 

He had closed up shop and came in for dinner, a burger and fries, and read the newest edition of Deadpool in his freetime. He actually had a small stack of them next to them. He had cashed his check and sorted the freshly delivered boxes before he locked up. Making a mental note to pay the old man in the morning- he would stuff the bills in the register tomorrow morning.

The new stuff sold fast, and that was exactly why he needed to make his pick before it hit the shelves. He had to be strategic! Take advantage of the perks of running the store!

You slid into the stool a few spots down, gesturing over to the bartender as he made his way over. He was built, wearing a plain black shirt that hung over his body. A gold chain that hung from his neck. He looked kind and quiet, gentle. He had worked there for several years.

“Whatcha’ having?”

  “Pabst,” You nodded, popping out your wallet.

“Pint or pitcher?”

“Pint.”

“Alright, but they’re $7 until 11.” He collected your cash and made his way up the bar, pouring your drink.

Clarence’s nose was in the comic, one hand holding the bridge of it while the other slowly set down the beer. Reaching out for a fry and mindlessly dabbing it into ketchup before it crawled to his mouth. Slowly inching closer. 

His long and shabby fry broke off, falling into his lap and getting on his jeans. You couldn’t help but to laugh. “You okay over there bud?” The bartender handed you your beer, curling in the glass as you took a sip. The foam made a fine mustache on your upper lip.

“Jesus!” He bit, pissed. He had just gotten to a good spot- he fucking didn’t want to stop! “I don’t know man.” He shook his head, nabbing a handful of napkins out of the dispenser and cleaning his lap. 

He finally looked up as you set down your glass. Catching the side of your face- “I ain’t pulin’ your chain, but ya got somethin’ on your face,” He grabbed another handful, passing it over. “A lil’ on here,'' He rubbed his upper lip, brushing his faint five o’ clock shadow.

You grabbed a napkin from him, quickly wiping it away before you got too embarrassed. Shit happens. “Thanks,” You muttered with a smile, softly laughing. Folding it afterwards and placing it under your glass. 

He nodded, reaching for his comic again. 

You were in a good mood and company always made it better. You had the urge to chat, he was attractive, after all. “So, whatcha readin’?”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “It’s uh, Deadpool. Issue #7,” He put his thumb on the page and flopped it over to the front. Reaching out his arm to show you the cover. “It’ll hit the shelves tomorrow.”

“How’d you get your hands on that?”

“Oh,” He flashed a guilty smile. Caught. “I work at the comic book store down the street, this is next week's issue,” The cover showed Deadpool stepping forward, gun in hand, his red and black latex suite dressed with a heavy white jeweled overcoat and flashing plants. He was wearing the iconic Evil Presley suit, black wig and sunglasses and all. Finger-pointing at a very unpleasant Cable, probably cursing Wade for being alive. Or was it that he can’t die?

“It’s the new Deadpool and Cable issue. It’s a new series they’re doing, do you wanna look?” He offered it and you happily accepted. Taking your time as you flipped through the pages, reading the inside insert. The introduction.

He rattled on, “It’s not as good as some of his other series but then I saw the front cover. I wanted to grab it before we ran out. I’m a big Elvis fan,” He smiled softly. Watching you read.

“Oh?” You peered up, raising an eyebrow. A hook- Elvis wasn’t exactly your man, but it didn’t deter you. “Is he your favorite?”

He beamed as he sipped his glass, nodding as the glass left his lips, setting it down on the wet napkin. “Favorite? It doesn’t begin to describe how much I love that man,” He could rattle on for forever. Even blab again about how much he wanted to fuck Elvis. But, usually, that wasn’t the most widely loved small talk conversation? He was better off tabling that conversation for a later time. Unless he wanted to blow his chance when flirting with a hot person. A man needed to get lucky sometimes, alright? Sheesh, he didn’t think some bisexuality was a bad thing. Isn’t that, a, you know? A sexual fantasy for some folks?

He drilled a finger into the side of his temple, elbow up on the bar as he watched you. How your feet shifted in your sift as you curled up closer to him, leaning in, tenderly turning the page of a secretly, newly loved comic. Mashing up the two things that made him bounce up and down with pure excitement. He was delighted.

“I’m a huge fan, I’ve always been since I was a kid. My dad used to listen to him while I was growing up, and I’ve had the itch ever since. He changed rock n’ roll forever, for the better,” He would watch old tapes of his dancing and performing on stage, having become familiar and comforting to his body. It was something he could return to, regardless of how he felt, and know he felt comfort in.

That, and watching him dance up on stage was light lightening. A friend and a lover.

“What’s your favorite song?” You smirked, flipping a page. You were more interested in his eyes than the panel. Wondering if he had caught on. 

He slid from his seat to the one next to you, dragging his beer along with him. The bartender snapped up his long forgotten dinner. Wiping down the table. “Do you mind?” He gestured to the seat, checking in.

“No,” You shook your head smiling, your delight so easy to read. “Not at all,” You swore you could feel your heart skip a beat. Your body felt fresh, warmed by the flash of heat spreading through your cheeks. You hoped another drink of your beer would help, at least to calm the giddy building up inside of you.

You would cut yourself off at two beers. At the rate of your drinking, you’d been in the hole after three. Too drunk to drive and by the soft patter of the rain outside, you didn’t want to be stuck in the rain. Trying to wave down a cab as it poured, head buzzed and tired, ready to flop down in your bed and forced to make it back. Getting fucked up was fun, but getting home could be a challenge.

  The thought already sounded miserable. You’d much rather be here, with the jukebox, under the warm hum of the bear and its speakers. It switched over to You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine by Lou Rawls. 

“Good,” He smiled with a surprising amount of soft charm. Voice low as his pinky mused with his lip, eyes slow as they took in your body. 

He had to look away. 

FUCK! It wasn’t polite to do that shit, he was either going to get a drink thrown in his face again or something!

He kept his eyes up at the bar, tongue flashing across his teeth as he chuckled to his mind. He could be so fucking stupid! This Y/N was going to beat him. 

He fisted for his cigs in his flannel pocket, offering you one.

Okay, this guy was an idiot, but a cute one.

“Thanks,” You took a cig and slipped it between the side of your lips. Grabbing  your lighter in your coat pocket, prepared as a common smoker should. You lit both of your cigarettes.

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” You shot, releasing a draw downward. 

He snapped it out of his mouth, square in hand as he shook his head awake. “Shit, what was it again?” He laughed, he was losing his head around you. You sucked all the smarts out of his brain.

You elbowed him lightly, amused. “What’s your favorite Elvis song?”

He paused for a moment, getting his mind in gear. Quickly shuffling the different songs on his head- “Hound Dog, and then Blue Suede Shoes, and All Shook Up,” It was the fast, catchy beats of Elvis’s drawl that got him. The electricity that he exuded, that made him want to dance and grab the hand of a friend, a stranger, even an old person! 

It made him want to boogie to the music.

You snickered, he hit right on the money. Damn, this guy had taste. Of the few you knew well, those were it. “Where does Jailhouse Rock rank?”

“8th,” He said clear as day, pointent. It was clearly not his favorite, but a hot contender. He had, in fact, listened to every single god damn song Elvis had published. Including the Hawaiian soundtrack album, which was a partial wash. He thought Elvis was at best when he was shaking it for a crowd, not trying to play at movie making. Yet, it hadn’t stopped him from consuming them all. “I paused not because I didn’t have a top three, but because…” Shit, he got himself in a hole? Wasn’t he playing the ‘cool guy’ really well?

“Because?” You flicked into the ashtray, bringing your arm in for a draw. Raising your eyebrows at him as you drew, feeling the air.

“Because I was thinking about you,” He slipped both elbows on the bar, facing forward towards the line of liquor and head turned towards you. Smirk painted on his lips, shameless in his expression, “You’re very Y/N.” He smiled, eyes stilling on you as they peered into yours eyes, then passed down your shoulder. “And I don’t normally get to talk to a Y/N like you.” Usually, they either weren’t interested in talking about comics and Elvis. So, what was there to talk about? Stupid small talk they he didn’t know much about? It was much harder, trying to find a Y/N with similar interests.

Your face felt warm again. You finished off the rest of your drink. Quenching your fuzzy head with the sharp inhale of nicotine, trying to peel the flush off of your cheeks. You couldn’t hide it- his soft pink lips looked beautiful when they moved. Especially when they were saying such sweet words.

You slicked a hand across your face, hiding the bite of your red cheeks, “How about we get a booth in the corner? And you tell me a bit more about yourself?” It seemed like a good idea. And it would give you a moment, to collect yourself, before continuing your chat.

You raised a hand to the bartender. He turned and you held up two fingers. A pint for you each. 

“Hmph!” His spiky eyebrows peaked up, elated. “Sounds good to me!” He snickered, collecting his stack of comics and waiting for the drinks to come. You two stepped to the back to back of the bar, sliding in next to each other at the dark spot in the room. A place, where neither of you would be bothered. Holed up, until the bar closes, chatting about sweet nothing while you got to know each other. Maybe get, caught in the rain together, under his umbrella. Before turning in, to his apartment. 

It was, in fact, closer than your apartment.

[heresathreebee]

A Real Date

[Ava Starr x Female!Reader] 

Summary: You and Ava trying a dinner date that goes very wrong (just kidding it's actually fine). 

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Word count: 1.8k words

Warning(s): 13+ | no-snap au, post-Ant Man and the Wasp, swearing, internalized homophobia(?), I think I’m working through something here this might be a little personal (sorry in advance), past relationship angst, presumed past of dating multiple genders but there is no definitive sexuality established for reader in the present, this was going to be something else but the story took over and I had to roll with it. 

Author's note: no-snap au, post-Ant Man and the Wasp. I’m sorry I do not edit anymore, it only serves to stand in my way. This is part 3 of Ava Starr series beginning with Strawberry Soda. Art by Artmilla on DeviantArt (correct me if I’m wrong please)

It's important to note that not everything you see in media is the hegemonic truth. Take sapphic dating rituals for example: in media it’s a constant joke about how fast people move in together and own pets and plants like they were soulmates and always meant to be together. Which is nice to see– it’s not meant to be a cruel joke– but it does paint a picture of perfection. It doesn’t explicitly state whether your future wife is your first or fiftieth girlfriend but it sure as shit might lead you to believe every girl might be your last. 

Real people don’t work that way. Real people have different interests, different lives, different traumas, different styles and needs. Every relationship is new and it has to be done deliberately and with care for what you and your partner want. So when you think about your relationship with Ava you can’t help but feel a little guilty. 

Ava seems to like to take things slow. Your relationship prioritizes quality time over physical touch which you're fine with, but you can’t help it if you compare the details to other people you’ve dated. You’ve known each other for three months and in every other relationship by this time, you and your previous partners had hit a ton of milestones that you and Ava had just… not. So when you bring up the prospect of a ‘real date’ to Ava one night while cooking pasta in your kitchen, Ava chuckles. 

“And what exactly constitutes as a ‘real date?’” 

The television is playing some daytime television game show and the volume’s on low. You pass her the salt and take a swig from your beer with a shrug. Already you feel silly for bringing it up. 

“Dinner. A movie. Sometimes both, I guess,” you say, flustered. 

Ava raises an eyebrow at the softening bowtie noodles in the pot. “We’re having dinner right now…? Name one time we haven’t come back to your place to watch a movie.” 

“The time the power went out and we played jenga by candlelight. But I– I mean like a date outside of the house.”

“We go to out to parks, the antique mall, lunch, the arcade–” 

“Well, yeah I guess you’re right I just don’t know I still feel like–”  

“Again, how is any of it different from a ‘real date?’” 

“I don’t know! Just… just forget it.” you’re trying not to be bitter about it but you don’t even know what you mean so how could you explain it? 

Ava calls your name softly and you already feel hot shame lick up your neck when you see her face. “I didn’t mean it like that, I– I just don’t think I understand what you mean and I want to! Honestly…” 

You sigh and lean closer to her, careful not to touch but you want her to know you’re not mad. “No, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve been stuck on it for a week but I can’t seem to figure out why. Everything you’re saying I agree with but there’s still this nagging voice in my head telling me it’s not fair or I’m doing it wrong but I don’t know what it even is and I–” 

You collapse onto the kitchen floor breathless. What the fuck were you even saying? Why was this bothering you so much? What ‘s different about this relationship than any other relationship you’ve already had? Your eyes are darting back and forth and your head is a million miles away. You keep talking as if saying it out loud will make your impulsive and intrusive thoughts and motivations clearer to you. 

“It’s out of order. No, it’s not but it’s… with Jordan and Becky and Hal, I went on three dates before it felt normal. We did the traditional getting to know you stuff. Damien and Palavi were straight physical– not traditional at all but that still felt good enough somehow. And– and it’s not that I don’t believe what we have isn’t real, I just–

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels a little like my relationship with Kat.” You can’t believe it but then the words were out there. You had never told anybody about Kat– Ava was still learning about the rest of them– but the instant those words left your mouth you regretted them. Ava was not Kat. 

For instance, Ava slipped down to sit beside you on the floor– Kat would never lower herself to meet your eye. Ava looked at you and she saw you– Kat chose to ignore your feelings whenever it became more convenient to do so. Kat made you feel special and yet not special enough– OK maybe they shared a little bit of that. A tiny, micro piece of that. 

“What was Kat like?” She said the words softly and without an ounce of jealousy. 

You gather your mind with a deep breath. “Dating Kat was like being strapped to a rocket. It was like being a part of something bigger and stronger than me. Being with her made me feel inconsequential and sometimes I liked that, but then… then I realized I was just a dirty little secret. Kat liked me because I was convenient to her, not because she actually cared about me. 

“When we talked or hung out, it had to be on her terms. No public, no friends or family, no social media. No one was allowed to know. She passed it off as just wanting me for herself but after she dumped me for something better I realized she never saw me as her equal. And it just… I was already in a dark place and that place just kind of got a whole lot darker after that. I felt especially not special.” 

You lean back and rest your head on the cabinet under the sink. “I know that’s not you. Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I have to hide a part of myself. I did a lot of stupid things in the public eye with Palavi, maybe part of that was because I was proud of who I am and I wanted everyone to know it?” 

“I think I care too much about what other people think of me,” you said closing your eyes. 

You didn’t expect to feel Ava lean her head against your shoulder but you don’t pull away. God, you could never pull away even as you worry she may be causing herself harm just to comfort you and your rambling. Her hair tickles a bit and smells like strawberries and lavender. 

Ava lifted her head after a moment. “Let’s go on a real date then.” 

~

Why the fuck were you so nervous? This was your idea! You had trouble picking a restaurant and picking a day and picking your clothes out and picking where to sit. So many choices with so much meaning or none at all. You just need this to be perfect because you hoped maybe this is what you need to stop that nagging in your head. 

You made the call to meet each other there. You made the suggestion that it had to be somewhere nice– as in get dressed up nice. And darling, sweet, patient Ava let you have the control you so desperately needed. She offered suggestions here and there, and it helped you narrow everything down to a science. You feel a little self conscious sitting by yourself in your get up but you knew she'd be there on time. 

It's just a matter of whether or not you could sit still for five more minutes. 

You hold the cloth napkin in your palms to try and soak up the sweat. Forcing yourself to sit unnaturally still and you haven't touched your wine because you just know you'll get it everywhere somehow. Your eyes trace over the table to stop yourself from meeting the eyes of other patrons. Do nothing, wait it out. 

Ava is stunning and you don't know she's there until the wait staff places the dinner menus in front of you. So much for pulling out her chair like you wanted to– but she's here and you break out into a big smile. 

"You look amazing," you tell her. 

Ava smiles and takes a sip of the rosé you ordered. The dim lighting in the room seems to soften the contours of her face but never the sharpness of her bright eyes. Something blossoms inside you and you feel it– that thing that's been bothering you like a knot in your stomach turns into a seed and its flowering now. This is your girlfriend. Not your friend who is a girl– your significant other. She's important to you and she has decided that she feels the same way about you. 

You feel your body unwind, reaching across the table like you might touch her hand then stop an inch from her empty plate. She watches you curiously but without fear. After a beat, it's Ava who finishes the contact. She slips her hand into yours and you are delighted to discover she's not a corporeal being you've convinced yourself is real. Her skin is a little dry around the palm and she has calluses you never knew were there and she's real and this is happening. 

You resist the urge to squeeze her fingers. Let her lead. Trust her to move away if she experiences any pain. She looks away from you with a flustered face you've never seen her wear and takes another draft of her wine. 

"This is nice," she says softly. 

You eat off each others' plates and you laugh together, and if anyone's watching you wouldn't know because for once you couldn't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks. You're with your person, for now or forever doesn't matter because she's letting you hold her hand and talk about a play you want to take her to on Saturday. Your heart flutters in your chest the whole way home and it’s not until you’re standing at your front door does her hand finally slip from yours. The feeling lingers though and your face hurts from smiling. 

“This everything you wanted,” she asked. 

“Yes,” you reply, “yes it was. Thank you for indulging me, it’s exactly what I needed.” 

“I enjoyed it too.” She steps closer, seemingly reluctant to leave just yet. “We’re still going to see Rocky Horror Picture Show, right?” 

“Absolutely,” you beam, “trust me, you’re gonna love it, it’s wild.” You blow her a kiss to send her on her way and spend the next hour giggling to yourself until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

[softspeirs]

Summary: Some Soft Speirs TM for your Thursday. Author’s note: @basilone​ and I were talking about how starved we both are for Speirs content so this was born. I did very little editing. Please be kind.

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When he opens his eyes, his head is pounding. It should be illegal to wake up with a headache, he thinks, as he checks his watch.

0530.

He slept for a grand total of…. Four hours, by the time the paperwork and guard duty was over. Roe’s going to kill me, he thinks idly. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he runs his hands through his unruly hair, mentally making a list of all the tasks he has to get done before they move out.

First, breakfast before his briefing at 0700 with Dick, Nix, and Harry. One of the good things about being in a house again, besides the real beds, is the kitchen. There’s still a company mess, but he’s partial to the new cook.

He dresses quickly, methodically, being sure to wrap his scarf around his throat. He knows he’ll be chilled through in an hour anyway, and he really doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of anymore lectures and glares from the company medics.

(He doesn’t remember the medics in D Company being quite so…. Fierce. Maybe they were too afraid to actually try to tell him what to do. Either way, Eugene Roe and Ralph Spina are a force to be reckoned with)

Downstairs, he comes around the corner to the kitchen, the sound of cutlery tapping against a plate and humming make him smile despite himself. He tries to rein it in before he comes into view.

Luckily, she’s alone.

At the sound of his boots, she turns to look over her shoulder, smile fixed firmly in place until she sees it’s him. He tries not to take it personally.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“Don’t start.” He says tiredly, sitting in the chair across the table from her place at the stove. “Is there coffee?”

She blinks. “Is there coffee?”

He stares, unfazed. “Coffee.”

“You have pneumonia--”

“You think I have pneumonia. Doc says it’s a cold--”

“He said upper respiratory infection--”

A pointed look has her stopping mid sentence, and she glares at him. He’s fighting off another smile - seems to be doing that a lot when faced with her, and she turns her back to him, going back to making whatever she’s making.

The men he used to command in Dog Company used to talk a lot about the woman in Easy Company. On the fast track to be a Lieutenant, as the rumor mill went. Smart as a whip, and nice to look at, though he tended to ignore that part of the story whenever he heard it.

They weren’t wrong, though, and he’s finding it harder and harder to ignore now that he’s been in close quarters with her for going on three weeks.

He remembers the first time he’d ever properly spoken to her. On D-Day, he missed the DZ like everyone else. Fought his way out of a tough scrape with some rogue Krauts, and ended up with Nixon of all people trying to find their way to the 101st.

After hours of walking in silence, a figure striding down the road sure as anything had them both stopping in their tracks.

“Am I hallucinating?” Nixon whispers, and Speirs stares ahead, shaking his head.

“If you are, then so am I.”

There’s a woman.

She stops right in front of them. “Flash,” she says, belatedly.

“Jesus Christ -- are you kidding?” Nixon starts incredulously, but at her sharp look, he huffs. “Thunder.”

“You’re late.” She says, primly. “And you’re not in the right place.”

“No shit.” Nixon snaps, and Speirs is overwhelmingly confused. “Lieutenant Speirs, this is Sergeant Ruth Kelley. She’s with Intelligence.” At another, even more confused look from Speirs, Nixon adds, “OSS. Acting liaison for the 101st.”

“My pleasure.” Ruth says, smiling warmly at Speirs, who has regained some of his composure, though he’s still marveling at this woman who has just walked up to them in the middle of occupied France, in a war zone, with smiling eyes and red painted lips.

She stuck with Easy for the rest of the War. Turns out she was well versed in firearms and was handy when they needed someone to scout through a town undetected. She had some medical knowledge too - she’s invaluable to them, and Speirs is still amazed that she hasn’t been promoted or transferred up to Battalion, though he suspects Winters and Nixon have something to do with that.

In his short time as Easy’s new CO, he’s observed the relationships among the men, and their relationship with her. It’s easy to see why she’s here, why she works so well with them. She’s their moral compass, their beacon when they need to remember why they’re fighting. It helps that she’s a fighter herself. He knows she’d take a bullet for any of them without question.

Or, make them breakfast, if that’s what the day called for.

“You’re off in another universe it seems, sir.” She says quietly. “I wish you would go back upstairs and let me bring you something.”

“I have too much work to do.”

Almost on cue, the door near the front of the house opens and closes, and Ralph Spina saunters in. “Captain! Thought you’d be awake.” His smile is pleasant, but it just makes Ron all the more suspicious. Every time Spina is around, the worst tasting medicine he’s ever had is sure to follow.

“Spina--”

“Hold still. Doctor’s orders.” He says, sitting down next to Ron and checking his temperature. He glances over at the stove. “Morning, Ruthie.”

“Ralph. Coffee?”

“Are you kidding?” Ron asks testily, meeting her teasing grin when he looks up, glaring at her. “You’re funny.”

Two cups of coffee (finally) and a few slices of toast later, he’s out the door with Ruth, both on their way to the briefing. Ruth is still humming under her breath and tossing an apple up into the air as they walk, catching it with the opposite hand.

Ron shakes his head as he watches her. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Quality time with my favorite Captain. What can I say? It does wonders.”

Ron grins. “Don’t let Nixon hear you say that.”

“Oh, he knows.” She says, so casually that it causes Ron to nearly miss a step. “What?” Ruth looks up, a smile still playing at the edges of her lips. “Have to keep him on his toes, you see.”

Affection swells up in him. Ruth Kelley. A woman unlike any he’d ever met. Funny, brave, smart, beautiful.

A lethal combination.

.

Notes: The Office of Strategic Services was composed of almost 13,000 Americans who operated as spies and Intelligence from 1942 to 1945. They were codebreakers, they planted false information to mislead the Germans, and, as a fun tie-in to the 101st for the sake of this story, often parachuted into enemy territory to blow up bridges and rail lines. One third of them were women!

[withcolebrock]

Lover of Mine-chapter 6

Lover of Mine~5 seconds of summer

Masterlist

Warnings: swearing?

Word Count: 1,485

Author’s Note: however Mike is depitced in this series is not how I believe he acts around women or treats women. ANyyyyway It’s getting down and spicy soon yallllll I hope you guys are enjoying it so far, because this is like my favorite series I have ever written and it’s actually the longest so I hope you guys really like it so far! This is my Gif!!

She pulled the bag from the microwave at the ends of it. She dropped the bag onto the countertop while she reached for two bowls from inside of her cabinet. She hummed to herself while she began pouring the popcorn into the bowl. She took a hold of the other bag she made and began pouring it into another bowl. She tossed the bags into the garabage can as she reached over to take a hold of the bowl.

She walked towards her living room. They were watching one of her favorite movies, Heathers, “Okay, start it,” she said excitedly as she handed one of the bowls to Sam, who was sitting on the recliner. She climbed onto the couch beside Colby. Colby clicked play as he reached over and took a few pieces of popcorn, “Who said that was for you?” she questioned jokingly as she pulled the bowl closer to her.

Colby gasped dramatically as he tossed the pieces he grabbed into his mouth. “I did,” he held out his hand and reached for more popcorn. She shook her head playfully as she crossed her legs. Colby adjusted his body closer to her, their legs now touching. Suddenly her heart began to beat faster, she wasn’t sure why. His eyes looked over her features as he felt his cheeks begin to flush.

He admired the way she stared intently towards the screen, he loved how invested she was in the movie. Despite seeing so many times, he watched as her lips curled up softly. He took in a long breath before turning his attention back towards the TV. Every time he would take a piece of popcorn he would lean his body close to hers; she clenched her jaw as she avoided looking towards him. His gaze lingered on her as he would lean his body back against the couch. She would turn her head to look towards him, meeting his eye briefly before she would turn her head back towards the screen. Colby smiled to himself.

“I’ve watched this movie ten time with you and I don’t even know what the plot is,” Sam commented while he tossed a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth. Y/N and Colby shake their heads laughing.

“Of course you don’t,”

~~~

She walked down the hall towards Colby’s room with a skip to her step. She peaked her head into the room and knocked on the door frame. She smiled as she saw Colby setting up his computer. He turned around to look towards her, he smirked as he stood up from his chair. “Hey,” he cheered as he waved her inside. She walked into the room as her eyes danced around the room.

“Hey, how are you doing?” she walked over to his bed and fell down onto it. He chuckled as he sat down beside her.

“I’m good, just trying to get my stuff set up so I can edit my video for tomorrow,” He sighed as he fell down onto his back. She fell down onto her back. “I always do this shit last minute,” he chuckled, tilting his head to face hers. A small laugh left her lips. She turned her head to face him. She smiled as she met his eyes, “Are you okay?” he whispered while his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, immediately tilting her head to stare towards the ceiling. His gaze lingered on her features, waiting to see if she would say more. She took in a slow breath while she shut her eyes. His heart beat faster as he felt her body so close to his.

“What’s wrong?” his voice was barely audible. She turned her head to face him, her eyes subconsciously looked around his features before she looked into his soft eyes. She sat straighater as she kept eye contact with him.

“It’s Mike,” she whispered, her voice cracking lightly as the words left her lips. She forced a smile as she shook her head lightly. “He’s not happy with me moving here. It’s like he doesn’t trust me or something,” she tilted her head straight again as she stared at the ceiling. “And I’ve done nothing for him to think that, if anything I shouldn’t trust him,” she explained while clenching her hands.

“He doesn’t want you living here because-?” he trailed off as he watched her.

“There’s an overload of testosterone in the house,” she looked him in the eye and chuckled. He shook his head with a smirk forming to his lips. “He’s always had a problem with me living with you and Sam, it’s like he doesn’t care if you guys are my best friends only that you guys are men,”

“So he’s insecure?” Colby raised his eyebrows.

“You could say that, yeah,” she chuckled, “I’m tired of fighting with him about it over and over and over again. I just wish he would get over himself,” she raised her hands up and covered her face. She groaned as she began rubbing her eyes.

“I mean the dude has a lot to compete with,” he started, she furrowed her eyebrows as she stared towards him, “I mean you’ve known Sam since you were eleven and we’ve been best friends since freshman year. So like the dude thinks he’s got serious competition to be your favorite guy,”

She pressed her lips together as she sat with the thought. She shut her eyes briefly as she shook her head. She opened her eyes as she looked into Colby’s eyes for a while without saying anything. “Is it bad that he isn’t?” she whispered, while her eyes flickered down to his lips before quickly looking back up into his eyes. “Oh god am I a bad girlfriend for thinking that?” she let out a shaky breath.

“Well, who’s your favorite guy?” he questioned, his voice was hopeful as his eyes flickered around her features. She half smiled.

“You,” she spoke softly, “Is that even a question?” she laughed as she lightly hit his arm. He beamed as he let out a sudden laugh. “You’ve been there, you’ve been there for everything. Am I suddenly supposed to forget all that because I’ve been dating some guy for like eight months?” she explained, Colby’s mouth fell open as he tilted his head to the side. “Damn, I’m a horrible girlfriend,” she covered her face with her hands again, a groan leaving her lips.

“You are not a horrible girlfriend, Tink. He’s just worried he might lose you,” she slowly moved her hands away from her face as she kept her gaze towards the ceiling. Colby’s eyes looked over her. He’d admired the way her eyelashes curled upward and the color of her eyes, the way her cheeks were slightly flushed. “You wanna watch a movie, get your mind off of things,” he whispered. She nodded slightly as she slowly tilted her head towards Colby.

Her mind went blank as she looked into his eyes. They were soft, familiar, for a second she felt as if in that moment time stopped. Her heart started to beat out of her chest, as her gaze shifted towards his lips. She felt herself leaning towards him subtly. Colby doing the same. Yet the move was so small that neither of them noticed each other leaning in.

“Heathers?” she asked softly. Her own voice pulling her from her trance.

“Uh-yeah,” he cleared his throat as he leaned his body back.

He nodded his head slightly as he reached behind him for his laptop. He flipped his laptop open as his background flashed on. A picture of himself, Sam, and herself were all standing together smiling. She smiled to herself as she waited for Colby to put in his password. “Hey,” she whispered, Colby turned his head towards her. “Thank you,” she continued.

He reached over and wrapped his arm around her, “Any time,” he whispered while he started searching for Heathers on Hulu. “We have to watch Heathers again?” he groaned while she laughed, “We’ve watched it three times in the past two weeks. Why can’t we do like The Breakfast Club or something,” he laughed as he ran his hand down her arm.

“We can watch The Breakfast Club if you want,” she laughed while she rested her head onto his shoulder. She shut her eyes for a second, trying to push the strange feeling away. He quickly looked over to her, feeling his cheeks begin to flush as he shifted his gaze towards his computer screen trying to hide his blush from her.

“Yay,” he whispered while he found the movie and began to play it. She giggled while she kept her eye on the computer screen. He tilted his head against hers, as they watched the beginning of the movie.

Lose me in the sight of you; I’ve seen the red, I’ve seen the blue

[pinkchanelbag-moved]

pride

mob!bucky barnes x reader

you were the ultimate prize, the one no one could get. except bucky. but now that he finally has you, it feels like you’re sleeping next to a stranger each night. 

words: ~3.9k 

warnings: very very quick mention of smut, just sad vibes in general

a/n: i really like dis one ngl lol but i still need to edit :* . been jamming to this song for day but i had to slow it and stuff for copyright, but its still a viiibeee so enjoyyy 

---

the whole way home, he’s calling you, and the entire time, you’re not picking up. after the fourth or fifth time, when he begins to get fed up, the calls start going straight to voicemail. you’ve shut your phone off.

he sighs and rolls his head back on the velvet covered car seat, rubbing at his neck. he’s tired. his father’s banquet was boring, per usual, and not even on par with the standards of ones he’s seen before. and he fought with you just minutes before the two of you were supposed to leave, forcing him to show up alone. that caught some attention, and if there is anything bucky doesn’t like, it’s attention...

he sat with his friends and his cousins and his friend’s cousins, checking out the new meat arriving into the extravagant garden party in his great aunt’s backyard. there were upwards of fifteen cars parked starting from the driveway until down the street as people poured in, one after the other, some familiar, some old, some young, some with long debt sheets and others large body counts, and bucky and his pals cracked up at scrutinizing the guests. a plump waitress came by and refilled his cup of wine, and he turned to thank her. his best friend and the son of his father’s business partner nudged him on the arm.

“that’s the broad i was talkin’ about from before,” steve said, nodding his head at the backdoor of the house where a new group of girls trickled in. girls in pastel heels and sundresses with sensible handbags. but bucky’s eyes only fell on one girl.

“damn,” he said, leaning back in his chair and noticing that his breath pulled at his lungs a tad harder. “yeah, she really is--”

“you’re lookin’ at the wrong girl, moron,” sam said from bucky’s left. steve pointed not-so-discreetly to the girl right next to the girl bucky had been looking at.

“the brunette,” steve said. “name’s margaret. i know she’s been looking at me, i can tell.”

“who’s that next to her?” bucky asked, his eyes still tracing every part of you. eyes, mouth, hands, hair, legs. his gaze touched each part of you, mesmerized.

“oh...that’s y/n.” steve turned to look at his friend and smiled, sharing a look with sam and shaking his head, the two men laughing. bucky turned to look between them both.

“what?” he asked.

“man, are you that oblivious or just that dumb?” sam shoved his shoulder. “remember that girl reid’s been tryna get with for, what is it--” he looked at steve to confirm, “four months? that’s her. girl’s closed up like an oyster.”

“she’s stuck up?” bucky asked.

“nah, nothing like that,” steve said. “just not interested.”

“maybe she just doesn’t like mafia boys?” sam suggested in her defence.

bucky looked at you as you greeted the hosts, your mouth dancing into a dazzling smile.

“i want her,” he said. steve chuckled.

“figured,” he said.

before he left for the banquet, the two of you were laid up in his king size together as you traced his scratchy jawline.

“i wanna stay here forever,” you said. bucky didn’t reply, just closed his eyes and ran a hand up and down your back slowly. you laid half on top of him, chest to chest, looking up at him with wonder in your eyes. it was something he’d never voice out loud, but every time you stared at him with that kind of love in your eyes, a smug part of him remembered when you’d roll those eyes and walk away as he tried to ask you to a date or the way you’d deadpan when he expressed how much he liked you. it was a long chase. one he’d never put himself through before, and now, he had you. “hey buck...” you began. he opened his eyes and glanced them down at you in acknowledgment.

“do you ever get tired of having to come all the way across town to pick me up?”

“not really,” bucky adjusted his position to put his arm behind his head. “it’s not like i have to drive myself.”

“but, well...i mean, it gets a little irritating to have to pack just a couple of things to come stay at your place for a few days. like, i don’t have all my makeup and clothes and things.”

bucky checked the time on his watch to see how soon the banquet was.

“you still always look good,” he offered.

“you’re missing the point by miles, buck,” you breathed a laugh that he felt from your chest to his. “do you ever think about...about if i lived here? permanently?”  bucky’s eyes trailed up to the ceiling.

“what’s wrong with your apartment?” he asked.

“nothing, buck,” you tilted your head to look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “just that we’ve been together for seven months. i thought it would be a good step forward. but if you don’t want to, then it’s fine.” you used the hand you hand on his chest to gently push yourself off of him. the hand he had on your waist fell to the bed as you walked off toward your mini suitcase, shuffling through a makeup bag. bucky knew you well enough to know you were just staying distracted, indifferent rather than actually looking for makeup.

“well, i mean, sure, we can step forward and all that, but i don’t see how moving in does that. you’re here most of the time anyway.”

“if i’m here most of the time, it makes sense for me to live here. and i don’t like spending most of my time in a place that doesn’t really feel like my own,” you were mumbling now, looking through the pack of clothes you had brought.

“but it’s not like i feel like your apartment is mine. i’m not taking anything from you, and isn’t it good for us both to have places that can be just for us? why share a place?”

“because that’s what couples do, bucky. just forget i said anything.”

bucky sat up in the bed.

“what, you’re mad now?” he asked, hands resting on the headboard.

“i’m not mad,” you said, not even looking up at him.

“obviously, you are. you’re not looking at me.”

“i’m not mad, buck, because i’m not surprised. i don’t know when it became a part of my routine to have you act like i’m your on-call girlfriend that you don’t actually want to be serious about, but i’m used to it, so how can i be mad?”

“that’s a-level bullshit and you know it,” he replied, the anger already rising in his voice. “you think because i like having my own space that i don’t take you seriously?”

“no, that’s not it. if it was just that, you know i’d never ask you for anything. but bucky...we have not had a change in months. i feel like we’re in the same place we were in a month in dating.”

“isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? the beginning is always the best part before the passion dies and stuff.”

finally, you turned to look at him, something confused and yes, a little hurt, in your eyes.

“i don’t think that. relationships are’t supposed to stay the same, buck, they’re not static. and they’re definitely not supposed to get worse. do you think we’ve lost...what, passion?” you asked.

“no, i don’t,” bucky shrugged, being truthful, but still trying to be nonchalant. “but i don’t think moving in is gonna help us feel a spark or some shit. it’s gonna be, like, a new responsibility that might cause issues.”

“so you’re saying you don’t want to move forward because you don’t wanna deal with the responsibilities?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

“yes,” bucky gestured a hand out. “it complicates things. i’m not trying to be all domestic right now, not at all, actually. we should keep it simple.” he rested his back on the headboard again, thinking you had finally gotten it. instead the last of expression drained from your face and your eyes looked at the carpet. bucky checked his watch again before pushing himself off the bed and stepping in the direction of the walk in closet to find something appropriate to wear.

“you got clothes for tonight, or do you want jordan to drive you home to get ready?” he asked, stretching his back.

“i’m not going,” you murmured, eyes staring dully at your suitcase.

now, as he pulls up to the apartment complex, fixing his cufflinks and running a hand through his hair, he prepares to finish the fight that he suspects he shouldn’t have left prematurely. but there’s no time to ponder over it anymore. he wonders what he has in store, and he wishes desperately you hadn’t brought up moving in. things with you are always good. bucky does love you, and he’s sure you know. it’s just that you’re so restless, always wanting more, and he can’t understand what you think is so wrong about how things are now.

“thanks, jordan,” he tells the driver before leaving the car.

“have a good night mr. barnes,” he replies. bucky makes his way into the lobby and then into the elevator with his hands in pockets. he uses his key card and passcode, then punches in the floor number to his penthouse. the elevator whirs for a a minute until it arrives to his home, opening up to his living room, and there you are. sitting on an arm chair, hands clasped together, lips touching knuckles, your elbows propped on your knees as you stare at the floor, your suitcase beside you.

“y/n...?”

your breathy moans made something devious swell in his chest as he pushed himself further into you. “bucky,” you breathed, gripping the bedsheets. his long, slow, and impossibly deep strokes pushed you nearly to tears, and he knew this. moments like these, or similarly as he sat back on the headboard and watched you bob up and down slowly, head thrown back to watch the ceiling and small hands holding onto his shoulders, his own hand coming to wrap around your prettily exposed throat, that he felt, i have her. the ego boost of a lifetime, if he was being honest. that he had you like this when no one else could, that he was the one that got to watch your breaths streaming in and out as you slept next to him with your hair in your face and your cool and reserved exterior melted away, or that he was the one that watched your figure clad in nothing but a thin sheet as you picked up the room service and sat out on the balcony, legs draped into a comfortable cross as you fed yourself fruit. he stood behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist at the gatherings and dinners, he was with you when no one else believed he could get you. not even you.

“they missed you at the banquet,” bucky begins. you don’t move a muscle. usually, you’re the more vocal one. “i missed you.” 

“stop,” you finally say in a quiet voice. bucky pulls his hands out of his pockets, but now not knowing what to do with them, runs them through his hair.

“stop what?” he asks.

“stop trying to be nice.” he furrows his eyebrows.

“you don’t want me to be nice to you?”

“i don’t want you to be be nice to me when you feel like have to because i’m upset about something. i shouldn’t have to be mad or sad for you to act nice,” you say. your voice is somehow both determined and dejected, something bucky’s not used to.

“come on, doll. you’re making it out like i abuse you or something,” he says. “that’s just how i am. everyone knows that. i mean, if i don’t act nice, it’s not because i’m trying not to be. especially with you. you oughta know that.” he takes a few small steps towards you.

“i don’t.” for the first time, you look up at him. your eyes are bloodshot and your face has taken on a reddish hue, surely from crying. bucky is taken aback. recalling what happened before he left, he didn’t think it would get you this worked up.

“you aren’t going?” he asked at the time. “why?” he folded his arms and stared at you through the wall mirror, but you continued to look at your suitcase.

“i’m not up for it.”

“y/n, i promise we’ll talk more about this when we get back, whenever you want, but let’s just put it away for now and go to this thing.”

“and the next time we talk about this...” you asked him, “will you have anything new to say?” your heart pounded in anticipation of his answer, and you knew his obliviousness would lead him to the wrong one.

you snuck a look at him through the mirror as he shrugged and looked to the side, his face blank, per usual.

“well, you know how i feel.”

you nodded slowly, letting out the breath you’d been holding. that does it, then.

“just go without me, bucky.”

and he did.

“what?” bucky laughed. “four kids? why four?”

you giggled and sipped at your smoothie for a long moment before coming up with an answer.

“i just like kids,” you smiled brightly, and it made bucky smile too, because he so often saw you happy in a way that wasn’t controlled, like you were with your families’ associates and the like. it was nice to see you happy with your guard really down. he realized you were vulnerable around him enough for that. the thought made his smile spread. “and i wanna be the kind of mother that...always has stuff going on at the house, you know? i figure that’s easier with more kids. it’ll be stress, but nothing i can’t handle,” you shrugged.

bucky nodded.

“i get that. my dad was like a superhero to me, but i still just never saw him or got to know him as much as i wanted, considering i adored him,” he looked down at his finished burger plate as he said this, ears turning a little pink. he glanced behind him dumbly, since the shop was already empty. it was closing time, but bucky knew the busboy, and the two of you were permitted to stay late.

you bent your head close to the table to try and meet bucky’s eyes. there was an adorable pout on your lips.

“so you wanna be a good dad? take ‘em to sports games, that kinda thing?” you asked in a baby voice, but bucky didn’t feel a hint of mockery in your voice, so he laughed and shrugged.

“yeah, i guess. it’s a nice idea, at least. i don’t know if i could ever really get there.”

you watched him for a moment as he finished off his milkshake before reaching over and placing your hand on top of his.

“i think you can get there,” you said. bucky looked at your hands, then up into your eyes, smiling and biting his lip. it was a nice thought. he wasn’t sure he was the right guy for it, but it was a nice thought in general.

“y/n, do you actually think that i only think of you as...what, a booty call? is that what you think?” bucky asks, and of course there’s that hint of incredulousness in his voice. “we’ve been together for months. we take trips. we meet people together. we...we’re us. what’s wrong with us that you hate so much?”

“that it’s not us, bucky! how can you say that? we can’t be some united front if we’re not even a team at home. i feel like i don’t know you.” you’re standing now, one hand on the handle of your suitcase. “i feel like i don’t know the truth, between the things, the lies that you told me to get me to want you and the person i see now. that’s just the issue. we’ve been together eight months and i feel like i’m sleeping next to a stranger.”

“what’s the issue, doll?” bucky asked, licking his lips in the pleasure of the banter.

“i’m not pursuing anyone at the moment,” you said as politely as possible with a testy eyebrow raised.

“well, that just makes my job easier, don’t it?” he grinned at you. you chuckled and turned back around to serve yourself some of the delicacies. bucky shot a glance to steve and sam, who were snickered a laughed. sam shot him a sarcastic thumbs up. bucky sucked his teeth and turned back around, gently grabbing your elbow.

“okay, okay, for real. can we just--” bucky pointed at the gap in the backyard fence that led to an alleyway between the big houses. you looked between him and the alley, pursed your lips, and put your plate down to follow him.

he tried a new approach. rather than flat-out asking you on a date, he did a thing girls went crazy over: just asked you a little about yourself, feigned interest (it’s not that he was faking exactly; he listened intently, but he really just wanted a date), and he told you a little about himself, his family. being this close to you for so long with no others around, he could admire how pretty you were. he didn’t care about reid or what other goon had tried for you. he knew he could do it.

when you reached the end of the alley, and you expected to go back, bucky leaned against a chainlink fence and continued the conversation, so you leaned on it next to him, not minding the company. the sun was setting behind a tall house so that the blinding orange rays didn’t light up the spot where the two of you stood, but the soft flare of tangerine enveloped you still. bucky watched your lips as you talked about your father’s work. you looked heavenly. he asked again to take you out before he had really comprehended his sentence. he caught himself and tried to play it off, because hardly anyone could make him slip up and talk before thinking.

“it’s just a burger. what, you don’t like burgers?” he smiled, all teeth, and was sure he was melting some of your tough exterior.

“you had to beg me,” you whisper, but somehow, it’s haunting enough to sound like a shout. “you had to have me, even when i didn’t want you. and when you finally managed to get me to come around...when you made me fall for you, you let yourself lose me.”

“no,” he began, shaking his head, trying to resolve it, resolve this.

“yes,” you continued as he attempted an interjection. “yes, buck, because that’s what’s happening. you’re losing me, bucky, do you understand that?”

“why is your bag packed?” he asks with exhaustion and something else, something cold and detached, etched into his face.

“i’m staying with my brother on the east side.”

“the east side?” bucky repeats incredulously. “no.”

“what are you gonna do, buck? are you gonna call up gino and frankie and make them hold me in the apartment? are you gonna stop me?” your eyes are wide and so, so angry that it manages to put a dent in bucky’s withdrawn attitude. the way they bore into him makes him unable to look directly at you for a moment. “just tell me now, if you plan on forcing me to stay, so i can see what kind of man you are. so i can really see the end of it. is there more, buck?”

“i won’t make you stay if you don’t want to, but...” he begins.

“then move,” you say with such enunciation in each word that it sends shivers down bucky’s spine. “let me by.”

“it’s not gonna happen, james barnes,” you told him. you turned to walk back down the alley and back to the party. the sun had set and the sky was a gentle pink and blue that somehow accented your shrinking figure.

“it’s bucky!” he yelled back at you. he heard your chuckle despite the distance, and he knew he had to have you.

“yn, come on. i...” he pauses to consider that the next words to come off his tongue feel a little foreign, “i’m sorry.”

you turn back to look at him again. “you’re always sorry. even when you don’t know you are because your goddamn ego is in the way. i know you, bucky. you’re always sorry. you just only feel it enough when you’ve pushed me to my breaking point, and i can’t sit around and wait for you to wither me away into nothing before you can learn to treat me how i deserve. because you know i deserve better, but you wanted me to be with you anyway. you had to have me.”

you turned back at the opening in the fence to analyze him one more time.

“when am i gonna see you again?” he called out. from the distance, he saw you tip your head up to the dark pastel sky to contemplate.

“mmm...” you looked back at him, a soft expression on your face, “your dreams, maybe?”

“i’m not gonna let you mess my head up anymore. i need to look after myself,” you say in a quiet voice. “i’m tired of your pride coming between me and you. it’s too hard.” you side-stepp bucky, and he lets you. each word hits him in the lungs until he doesn’t have quite enough breath to reply. to rebuttal. to tell you you’re wrong, things aren’t this way. but he can’t do that because he’d be lying. he can’t even dare to think about objecting to what you’re saying, or he worries he might him an all-time low.

you step to elevator, your suitcase in hand, and call for the elevator.

“do you have a ride?” bucky asks, looking at the marble floor. he then decides against it, decides to watch you since he doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. and the next time he sees you, you’ll no longer be his.

“uber,” you say, staring at the wall of the head like you’re trying to burn a hole in it. you turn the same gaze to him, and sticks his nails into his palm. “i wanted this to work because i love you. but i can’t change you, bucky, as much as i want to.”

bucky brought a fist to his chest.

“you’re killing me, doll,” he called to you. he heard your enchanted giggle.

“goodbye...bucky,” you said. his name sounds like a church choir on your lips. he wanted to hear it a million more times.

the elevator arrives, and you turn away again. take a deep breath, because you can’t believe you’re doing this, but also not believing it took you so long. “goodbye, bucky,” you say with resignation. you stepp in, and only half turn around, briefly making eye contact with the man you love.

you looked at him one more time before stepping through the gap in the fence.

the elevator comes to a silent close, breaking the link of eye contact between you and bucky, whose eyes are glossed over.

and just like that,

you were gone.

[samsexualdeancurious]

His Own Hands | Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1,682

Summary: Bucky is settling in well with the Avengers but he keeps having nightmares - flashes of repressed memories of a girl being tortured by his hands and then vanishing into a swirling black portal. He's not sure who she is until Fury introduces them to their newest potential team member, a girl Bucky recognizes on sight and Fury calls "Portal".

Warnings: Hurt!Reader, Lack of Communication, torture, trauma, PTSD

Written for Nanowrimo 2020

Betaed by Saxxxology and Amory

Cover art edited by me

---

2006

“Just ask him out already,” Irene says, dark curls bouncing as she checks all her mirrors and looks over her shoulder.

You shake your head, annoyed but smiling a little at your friend’s insistence. “Not gonna happen.”

She rolls her eyes, throwing the car into reverse. “There’s no one behind me, right?”

You do your own check, smiling at your best friend’s cautiousness. She almost backed into her brother a few weeks ago and now she’s a little paranoid. “Nope, you’re good.”

“Awesome.” She backs carefully out of the driveway and onto the street. “I hope the traffic isn’t too bad. I’m starving.”

“Me, too.”

“I’m serious, though. You need to stop beating around the bush and ask Quinn out. You know he’s never gonna do it himself.”

Your cheeks heat up at the reminder of Quinn’s obliviousness. “Shut up. He’s never gonna do it ‘cause he doesn’t feel that way.”

“Girl, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That boy is in love.” A red light brings the car to a halt.

“Shut up,” you mumble, watching the “walk” sign begin counting down.

“Just calling things as I see them. You two have been dancing around each other for years. It’s about time you sorted yourselves out, got your heads out of your asses, and, ya know-”

The light turns green and the car moves forward. You fix your attention out the window instead of looking to where your best friend is definitely gesturing wildly with one hand, as is her style, and years later you’ll thank god you did because otherwise? You wouldn’t have seen the truck.

“Irene!” you shout as the world turns into the screech of tires on asphalt, the crunch of metal on metal, a blur of pain and screams and a moment of darkness and then suddenly you’re sitting on the sidewalk with Irene by your side, blinking in the afternoon sun.

“What the fuck?” she gasps, turning to you with wide eyes. “What just happened?”

You open your mouth but you can’t seem to find any words, especially after you look around. You see people staring, whispering, and then your eyes land on Irene’s car where it sits about twenty feet left of where you remember it being, crumpled around the front end of a huge red truck.

“Oh my god,” Irene whimpers. “Oh my god. Y/N, your arm!”

Your brow furrows and you turn your head to see her pointing at your right arm. Your stomach lurches at the sight of your forearm bent in a grotesque way. It doesn’t hurt, though, which you find really weird right up until your arm starts moving on it’s own.

“Holy shit,” someone - maybe Irene? You’ll never know - says.

You watch in horrified fascination as your forearm straightens out, the scrape of bone against bone as it sets itself as bad as nails on a chalkboard.

“That chick just healed herself,” you hear from the crowd that’s beginning to form.

“Did you see? She opened a portal and got them out of the car.”

“Who is she?”

“Maybe she’s like that Hulk thing from a few years ago?”

“God I hope not. That was a mess.”

The words keep coming, dozens of questions, too many to focus on at once. Your head is spinning and you’re faintly aware of Irene calling your name.

A deep voice cuts through the overwhelming noise of the gathering onlookers. “Get back, give them some space, let the paramedics through.”

“Y/N?” a new voice says. This one is closer, unfamiliar but lighter than the deep voice. Softer, filled with gentle concern. “Y/N, I need you to breathe with me. In, out. Come on, with me. In, out. In, out.”

You force yourself to focus on the voice, following its lead as you draw deep breaths. Gradually, your heart begins to calm - you hadn’t even realized it was racing.

“There you go, that’s it. In, out.”

Your vision clears and you find a kind-looking woman in a paramedic’s uniform kneeling in front of you. She smiles when she sees you looking at her.

“Hi,” she says. “I’m Amelia. I’m gonna lay you down, okay?”

You manage a small nod, allowing her to guide you to lay down on something - a backboard, you’ll later realize. She shifts to kneel by your head, gentle hands holding your neck still while someone else secures you. Amelia talks the entire time, soothing words that keep your attention on her and away from the fear that wells up when you realize you can’t move.

“I’m not hurt,” you protest as they shift you onto a gurney and cover you with a blanket.

“Just being careful,” she explains. “We have to take every precaution.”

You try to shake your head and realize you can’t. “I was hurt but I’m not anymore.”

Amelia doesn’t respond to that, too busy helping get the gurney into the back of an ambulance.

“Wait up!”

A new voice - a man. Someone else climbs into the ambulance. When they sit beside Amelia, you see it’s a man with the familiar blue uniform of an NYPD officer

“How is she?” he asks as the door closes and the ambulance begins to move.

“In shock but conscious,” Amelia answers. You feel the prick of an IV in your arm.

“Y/N,” the officer says, leaning over you. He’s about mid-thirties, you decide. Handsome, with a clean-shaven face and blonde curls. He reminds you a little of Quinn. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“Yes,” you say, fingers twitching under the blanket.

“Can you explain what happened?”

You try to shake your head again, forgetting you can’t move it. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I don’t know what’s happening. What’s happening to me?”

Your breath catches in your throat, pinned there by the wave of panic that surges through your body.

“Hey, hey.” Amelia places a hand on her cheek, drawing your attention to her. “It’s okay. We’re here to help. We’ll figure it out.”

You can’t hold back a whimper, tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/N,” the officer murmurs, tone softening. “Did you know you had powers?”

“No,” you manage. “I didn’t… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” he prompts.

A memory. You’re climbing a tree and you fall but there’s a flash of something dark over your vision and then you were sitting on the ground. Safe. And that wasn’t the only time.

“Things happened when I was little?” You furrow your brow. “But I thought… those were dreams or something. That I made them up.”

He nods. “Gifted but with semi-dormant powers. Makes sense. Opening the portal must have been purely instinctual.” He lays a hand on your shoulder. “You saved your friend’s life, Y/N.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Portal. What the hell are you?

--

“You wanted to see me?” Coulson says, knocking lightly on the frame of Fury’s open office door.

“I just received a report of a new gifted in New York,” Fury replies, holding out a file without looking up from the one open on his desk. “She’s at Mount Sinai.”

“A new gifted? Like Captain Marvel?”

“Different.” Fury shakes the file a little. “I want her brought in, for protection and potential recruitment. I’m certain other organizations have heard by now.”

Coulson sighs, accepting the file. “You do know it’s gonna take me forever to get there.”

Fury smirks, finally looking up. “Better get a move on, then.”

--

You’re alone in a little curtained off “room” when they come for you. The triage nurse already checked you over and now you’re just waiting for the doctor to clear you to go home. Last you heard, Irene has already been discharged and is waiting to be picked up by her parents. Your own are supposed to be on their way but you have a feeling neither are going to show.

That’s nothing new, unfortunately. Maybe Irene’s parents would be willing to drive you home.

You swing your legs a little, glancing around the room like there will be something new to see. It’s the same as before. Whitewashed wall to your right, pale blue curtains on all other sides, fluorescent lights above doing their best best to steal what little color there is.

The sound of something loud interrupts your thoughts- a popping sound you’ve heard. For half a second you think it’s fireworks before realizing it’s definitely not and yes, you have heard it before. Coming from the gun range you bike past on your way to work.

You leap off the bed at the sound of people screaming and men shouting. The men seem to be getting closer.

Coming for you.

You look around, looking for somewhere to hide but there’s nowhere and besides, it’s too late. The curtains are ripped open to reveal a huge man - long hair, piercing blue eyes glaring over a mask, six feet and broad as a house, black leather all over except for the very shiny, very scary, very metal arm with a red star on the shoulder.

He says something in a rough language you can’t understand, slinging his massive gun onto his back and reaching for you with leather-gloved hands.

“No!” you scream, suddenly finding your voice. You kick out and actually manage to make contact with his shin, but the man might as well be metal all over for all the good that does you and he continues to advance. “No, no, no-”

He growls, gripping your arms and dragging you out into the hallway where more masked men in black leather wait. None of them have metal arms but that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. You struggle in your attacker’s grip, screaming for help even though you know, deep down, that no help is coming.

The man snaps something to one of the others in the foreign language. That man pulls a hypodermic needle from a pocket on his bullet-proof vest and stabs it into the meat of your bicep.

You’re unconscious almost before you even realize what he’s done.

---

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @laughing-at-the-darkness​​​ @tumbler-tidbits​​​ @imsuperawkward​​​​​ @emoryhemsworth​ @manawhaat​

[vampirequeenoffan]

Intrusive

IDK, just a DP drabble that seized me by the hands and forced me to write it. I haven’t re-read or edited lmao so it’s probably Real Bad but I have other shit to be doing so imma just dump it here, sorry to yalls eyeballs

Tucker pokes him in the shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Danny groans. He’s got his arm slung over his eyes and he’s upside-down on the couch; legs hooked over the back and back pressed into the cushions. It’s not exactly the world’s most comfortable position, but if he eases off the gravity a little it doesn’t actually hurt. Besides, the discomfort is grounding, pulling his brain away from itself and back into the physical world.

“Ghost bullshit,” he grunts at Tucker. He doesn’t bother uncovering his eyes. He doesn’t really even need to, not the way he is right now, with Tucker picked out so neon in his mind that he can almost taste his presence. He doesn’t use his eyes to “see” when his friend sits down beside him, leaning his elbow on the back of the couch and drawing his legs up off the floor.

“That sucks,” Tucker says.

“Tell me about it.”

“Do you wanna?” he asks. “Tell me, I mean. Get it out of your brain.”

Danny contemplates that for a moment, falling so still he nearly forgets to breathe. Then his lungs start complaining, reminding him that he is very much still in human mode, thanks, and that he does need air for more than just vibrating his vocal chords.

Danny sighs.

“Urges,” he says. One-word response.

He still can’t see Tucker, but he can “see” him nod. He’s such a pleasantly warm shade in Danny’s mind right now, a color he can’t describe because humans can’t perceive it. Danny could look at it forever.

“One of the fighting ones again?” Tucker asks. Danny shakes his head.

“I wanna put you in a box.”

It’s a testament to their relationship that Tucker doesn’t freak out about that sentence and all that it could imply. Instead he just pauses, purses his lips in the way that Danny can only vaguely “see” (a slight variation in his color, dipping almost orange on the spectrum), and drums his fingers against the back of the couch.

“Like. . . a coffin?” he asks, tone casual. More casual than it probably should be for the subject matter.

“Not really,” Danny says. “I mean, it’s not not a coffin either, but it isn’t specifically one. My brain just. . . really wants you and Sam to be tucked away somewhere safe where no one else can touch you and I can guard you forever. And ever.”

He pauses.

“And ever.”

Tucker nods, the motion burning brightly in Danny’s mind.

“Creepy,” he comments.

Danny groans again.

“I hate my brain.”

“So do I, you’re not special,” Sam calls from the other room. Danny’s itching under his skin with the urge to go grab her, despite how the walls in between them don’t dampen the “sight” of her in his mind. He presses his arm a little harder down over his eyes, as if that could block out her luminous smear across his consciousness.

“We’re having a private conversation,” Tucker yells back at her. “Me and Danny are bonding. Get your self-depreciation out of here!”

“Then stop talking so loudly, idiots!” Sam says. She’s crouched on the ground, rifling through what Danny knows is a box despite neither seeing nor “seeing” it. It shouldn’t take her that much longer to find Dead Teacher iii, and then she’ll be back in the room. Danny has to keep repeating that to himself.

Tucker reaches down and pokes his shoulder again.

“It’s really bugging you, huh,” he says. “That she’s in the other room.”

“How can you tell?” Danny asks. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t acted on any of his instincts. For all intents and purposes Tucker should just see a normal teenager lying sprawled out next to him, albeit in a somewhat awkward position.

Tucker shrugs. His shoulders bleed color behind them in an echo of the movement.

“Your teeth. They’re always pretty sharp, but right now they look like you could bite your own lip off. You’re not kissing anyone for a while, by the way,” he adds.

Danny’s groan borders on a whine this time.

“My ghost half is ruining my life,” he complains.

Tucker snorts and pokes him again, this time on the cheek. The warmth of his skin, of his presence in Danny’s mind, make Danny shiver. He wants so badly to bundle Tucker up in his arms and never let go.

“Is it just us right now?” Tucker asks. “Do you wanna box up anyone else?”

Danny hesitates, turning that thought over in his head.

“. . .no,” he ultimately concludes, “Not really. My brain’s got my house categorized as safe and mine and that’s where my family is right now, so they’re fine. And Val– well. Val is Val. I’ve always got conflicting feelings there.”

“It would be nice if those cancelled out, huh,” Tucker muses. Danny’s complained about this to him before. Fight and Protect fluctuate in his mind from moment to moment when it comes to Valerie and The Red Huntress, and the overlap when they’re both at their strongest can nearly give Danny a migraine. In the same way he can have a panic attack while in the middle of a depressive episode, he can very much want to swaddle Val in bubble wrap while also wanting to stab her.

“Well,” Sam says, straightening up and starting to (yes!) return to the room, “We can’t do a box, but we were already going to cuddle pile on the couch.”

“I still can’t get over you saying cuddle,” Tucker says.

“There’s nothing more hardcore than cuddling,” Sam huffs as she flops down on Danny’s other side. Her arm swings as she makes to throw what Danny assumes is the DVD box at Tucker, and Danny’s hands shoot up to snag it out of the air before it can strike his friend.

There’s a moment of silence. Danny opens his eyes. It’s weird seeing the world around him and “seeing” on top of it, part of why he’d covered his face in the first place. His brain just isn’t meant to process that much visual information at once, the same way his brain isn’t actually wired to “see.” He tries to focus on what’s real, on the actual light bouncing off his friends and into his retinas, and blinks away the glowing smear that isn’t even on the visual spectrum. He’s holding Dead Teacher iii in his hands, and he stares at the cheesy cover art with the single-minded focus of a guy recalibrating his eyes.

“Ah,” Sam says. “That bad, huh?”

Danny lets go of the DVD and it lands on his face. It hurts, but not that much.

Tucker sighs and grabs the case, standing up and moving to pop the DVD into the player. Danny, with a herculean effort, manages to not grab his ankle on the way by and drag him bodily back onto the couch.

Sam stretches, her long pale fingers tangling together overhead, physical form barely more present in Danny’s mind than the glow of her presence. Then she drops her hands and lays down, plopping her head onto his stomach and peering up into his very-close face. Danny can pick out every sun-starved freckle-that-could on her face, inherited from her parents and dampened by lifestyle choices. In the summer, when even the extra-strength sunscreen Sam slathers on can’t fight back her love for the outdoors, those freckles darken and bloom like constellations in the night sky.

The weight of her head against his stomach smooths some of Danny’s anxiety. She’s here. She’s real. She’s alive. She’s safe. She’s his.

She isn’t, of course. Tucker isn’t either. No one, on this planet or off of it, belongs to anyone, least of all Danny. And Danny knows this, believes it with the same certainty and maybe even the same part of his brain that knows that the earth goes around the sun, but that doesn’t get rid of his ghost-lizard brain chattering away in the back of his consciousness.

There’s the hum of the DVD player starting to spin the disk, then the previews begin behind Danny’s head. Tucker sits back down and, with Sam taking up the real estate on Danny’s abdomen, hooks an arm under one of the legs thrown over the back of the couch. He drags Danny’s limb closer and starts using it like a headrest, cheek pressing against Danny’s shin.

“You guys–” Danny’s voice breaks off. Finally, the anxiety that’s been buzzing at the back of his mind for the past hour and a half is tapering off, soothed by his proximity and contact with those he wants to protect. It’s such a relief that Danny could almost cry. But. . .

“You guys don’t have to be that close if you don’t want,” he says. Because it’s true. Sam and Tucker are under no obligation to play along with his ghost brain, no obligation to surrender to whatever weird instincts Danny has jammed into his consciousness. Danny has no right to ask them to, and he doesn’t. Not ever. They can make their own choices, and he refuses to become the kind of monster who would try to take their free will from them. They’re his friends, not his property, and he’s never going to forget that.

“Danny,” Sam says, “Shut up. The movie’s starting.”

“Yeah, man,” Tucker chimes in, “We were gonna do this anyway. Let us know when your brain’s calmed down enough to be upright, okay? I want popcorn later and there’s no way we’re gonna be able to integrate a bowl into this mess.”

Danny kicks his foot lightly, jostling his leg in Tucker’s hold and bumping his head, but he’s smiling. His friends are here. They’re alive. They’re watching a dumb movie from a dumb series they love and hate in equal measure.

And Danny’s happy.

[imjeralee]

Wallflower: Chapter 5 - The Long Day

Raihan x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: This is my first Pokemon fanfic. I hope you enjoy it :) Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.

Summary: You’re an unassuming Pokemon breeder who works at the nursery in the Wild Area and he’s Raihan, the fearsome gym leader of Hammerlocke who has more than a million followers.

You don’t want anything to do with him but he’s…persistent.

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Lemon, smut, violence, language

THE LONG DAY

...

...

It's been a long day.

A match has just finished. He lost, again. The gym challenger jumps up and down happily whilst he recalls his fainted Duraludon and the sandstorm subsides. There's sand in his eyes but he forces himself to blink through it. The crowd's cheers gradually die down as both challengers make their way to the middle of the pitch and shake hands.

"Congrats." Raihan says, before he goes over his rehearsed line. He's said it so many times, he's lost count. He hands out the Dragon badge, gives them a TM as a gift and sends the gym challenger along their merry little way. He'll also keep his eyes peeled whether the gym challenger makes it to the finals or not.

The audience leaves, the stadium grows quiet and Raihan retires to the changing rooms where he pulls off his hoodie, leaving himself in his dragon uniform, plops himself down on a cold, hard bench, removes his headband and checks his phone. He goes through his selfies and opens his trusted app, uses the filters and chooses which one suits his liking. When he's finished with the minor edits, he posts it up on his account and a slew of likes and comments appear within several seconds of being uploaded.

'Great match, Raihan!'

'Loser'

'Ur so hot my king <333'

'Lost again, huh? not surprised'

''I get how u like to use weather in ur battles - sandstorm, rain, hail - but that was a pure shitstorm'

'Sending u so much luv, ur ma precious bby (ง︡'-'︠)ง'

’DADDY’

'Marry me!!!'

'Maybe if u spent more time training ur pokemon rather than taking selfies, u wouldn't b a shitty trainer. Just sayin ¯\_(ツ)_/¯'

'can I suck ur cock??'

The comments are mixed, needless to say. He scrolls down the growing list until he spots one from a fan with a username that seems familiar to him. The message says 'Plz go 2 Spikemuth??? I know u lost but I’ll always b ur biggest fan'.

Huh. Interesting. He hadn't been to Spikemuth for a long time and he hadn't seen Piers for a while either. Checking his Rotom calendar, he sees that he doesn't have any matches scheduled until next week. Maybe he should go and unwind, take a quick break. Replying to the message, he says 'Great idea!'. He doesn't even need to pack anything because he'll just be there for one night; instead, he merely books a return ticket from Hammerlocke to Circhester online and grabs his hotel keycard. Being a gym leader meant he had several privileges, including a twenty four seven hotel room courtesy of Macro Cosmos in Hotel Ionia.

Once he arrives in Spikemuth, it's already nighttime and he hits the nightclub after visiting Piers. He doesn't remember the name of the club but he frequents it and before he enters, he snaps another photo of himself and uploads it.

Inside, the nightclub is bustling. He's used to this type of scene and he goes to the bar, orders a drink. The first drink is on the house because he comes here so often. Although he's alone, he's approached various times by attractive women of all shapes and sizes who take selfies with him. In almost every photo, they stick their tongue out and do the peace sign. The amount of people who recognise him and go up to him as the night goes on makes him a little exhausted, so he doesn't stay in one area of the club for long, opting to change seats often. As soon as he's changed seats for the umpteenth time, he's immediately approached by a girl in a black dress; she's very attractive and slim.

"Hi." She says coolly, looking at him through half-hooded eyes.

"Hey." He replies, taking a sip of his drink.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs.

She smiles widely. "I'm Louisa. Are you gonna buy me a drink or you gonna leave me hanging?"

He takes another sip of his drink and settles the glass on the counter. "Sure."

Calling the bartender over by waving his hand lazily, Louisa excitedly takes the seat beside him and he allows her to order what she wants. It's something expensive but he puts it on his tab. For a few minutes or so, they chat and flirt, and she orders more and more drinks and her words become garbled and she asks him invasive questions which he’s used to, then she tells him she wants to be as rich and famous as he is and asks him for his secret. When he tells her there is no secret, her demeanour changes - she rubs her foot against the length of his leg before she slips out of her barstool and tugs at his hand playfully, inviting him to dance. He lets her take the lead and once on the dance floor, she begins grinding against his hips and taking his hands with hers and putting them on her waist.

Louisa's pulling some pretty bold moves but he finds himself looking away and it's then Raihan spots a girl sitting amongst a group of women in one corner who are chatting loudly; he remembers that interview he did recently and this girl - he has never seen her before and she is definetely not a gym challenger either - but she fits everything he described. He can't help but stare. She's wearing a tight, black dress which she doesn't seem to be comfortable in as she sits at the very edge, looking rather lost as she holds her drink in hand. She doesn't even look like she's enjoying herself. He watches her for a few moments or so, noticing how she lifts a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and glance at her companions before she shifts her gaze to her lap. She's clearly not at home here. Raihan stares at her for a little longer than intended, drinking in the sight of her until Louisa steps on his foot with her pencil heel.

"Oh! I'm so sorry - " She says, before she immediately slams a hand over her mouth and rushes away - and promptly projectile vomits all over the floor. Looks like someone’s had too much to drink. She collapses and some concerned members of the public go help her out.

After making sure she's okay, he watches as she's carried out and returns to his seat and orders another drink. He downs it in one sip and wipes his mouth, finding his eyes glued on this other girl who’s captured his eye and piqued his interest; he sees her leaving her seat and walking towards his direction. It appears she's been asked to order drinks because she's the only one sober. Raihan watches her; she walks right past him, not even batting an eyelid.

What the Bidoof? She totally ignored him!

Doesn't she know who he is???

He observes her as she returns to her seat, balancing three drinks on a tray which her friends end up making her drink. A while later, she seems to be drunk as well because she heads to the dancefloor on her own, looking around and swaying slightly. Raihan finishes another drink and his head's throbbing too but what the hell - he wants to talk to her so he heads over and once he reaches her, he slides an arm around her waist and she looks up.

"Hi, do you wanna dance?"

She squints her eyes at him; she didn't hear him over the loud music. "...What?"

He repeats his question.

"I don't...I don't talk to strangers." She manages to slur out.

He's fairly amused; she's so cute, like a little Skitty with her pink cheeks and somewhat dazed expression. "I'm not a stranger, I'm Raihan."

"Who?"

He pauses, momentarily stunned.

Then he grins.

A girl who doesn't know him.

What are the odds, really?

...

Present.

There's a team of investigators at your house; the box has been removed and they opened it.

A pokemon's heart was inside.

You didn't see it but these men dressed in white came and took something red and fleshy out and deposited it into an icebox. The date has ended miserably; you sit on your sofa with the front door open as Looker’s team scour the rest of your house but the culprit is long gone. After taking down your testimony, you wonder what's going to happen next - Looker speaks to a man in scruffy shorts, flip flops, t-shirt, cap and sunglasses. People would've thought this man was a hobo but it was actually Chairman Rose in his civilian disguise. You can't hear what they're talking about but it can't be good. His secretary stands stiffly in silence with her hands clasped together, looking rather solemn.

Raihan sits beside you and you're stuck in his embrace. He's been hugging you the entire time but you feel he needs a hug more than you do because no-one should be facing this alone and also, you are grateful he's here so you wrap your arms around his waist and when you look up at him, he smiles at you reassuringly and pecks you on the forehead before snuggling you, and you do the same. It feels good to be in his arms, even though the date is over and there’s random men in your house, going through your things and trampling over your nice pristine carpet with their mucky boots.

Luckily, your Pokemon were fine - you flung open your door and when you saw Drifloon and Phantump in the living room, you pulled them into a hug and returned them to their pokeballs. Then you looked around for Espie and found her sleeping in your closet so you quickly returned her safely into her ball as well. Poliwag never left the bathroom and was swimming in your bathtub which he had filled with water so you quickly recalled him too. You tucked all your pokeballs into your safe box and counted them  three more times just incase. Everyone's accounted for. Thank Arceus, your Pokemon are unharmed. You will call Glenn later and ask if he can pop by your house and look after your Pokemon if he’s free.

What a shit way to end the first date you have with Raihan. You'll remember this for the rest of your life. Oh boy, what a story to tell the grandkids. Jokes aside, the Chairman's presence here doesn't bode well because you know once he finishes talking to Looker, he will probably speak to the both of you. This is bigger than you, Raihan and Looker...no matter how much you wanted to keep the Dusclops in the closet. More and more people are getting involved and will find out about the one night stand. This is humiliating.

Groaning, you close your eyes and Raihan hugs you even tighter than before that your lungs might pop. "Are you okay?" He's asked you that question a few times now.

You're not okay and you don't know whether to humour him or not, so you utter, "This isn't the first time I've seen a dead pokemon. Did I tell you that too?" Sarcastic, cynical response it is. He doesn't deserve it but you can't help yourself in this situation.

"Yeah," He replies (thank goodness he's not offended), "I'm sorry I got you involved."

"It's not your fault."

You resume your cuddling but it's cut short when Chairman Rose finishes talking to Looker and begins heading towards your house and enters through the front door. His secretary follows silently. Immediately, you climb out of his lap, allowing Raihan to stand up and you follow his example, except you begin to tremble slightly until Raihan squeezes your hand. Once Rose is directly in front of you, he exchanges glances between the two of you before he smiles warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Rose and I'm the Chairman of the Pokemon League. You must be Raihan's new belle." He says.

Belle? Like the character from the popular, classical movie, Beauty and the Buzzwole? This guy is kind of weird. There's something off about him but you can't just put your finger on it.

Before you can even speak, Rose turns to the gym leader and adds, "Raihan, it's been a while since we last saw each other; usually I have no business in your affairs but this time....well, where do I even begin?" He's smiling but you don't think this conversation is heading to a good direction.

"Chairman Rose." Raihan greets him; he's different when dealing with this man. He's more stoic and serious. "We're taking care of it. I've got Looker helping us."

"I'm taking your word for it, but I'm disappointed in you. Get this sorted out right now. This could ruin everything I've worked for and I'm not taking any chances. Why else do you think the paparazzi aren't going crazy over this? I'm paying them to keep their mouths closed."

Raihan's expression doesn't change. "I'm aware."

"I'm glad you understand the severity of the circumstances here." With that, Rose turns and leaves. The tight-lipped woman doesn't say anything and follows after him.

There's a brief silence between the two of you until Raihan sits down on the sofa again.

"Raihan?" You mutter; he keeps his eyes trained on the floor but he looks up when you sit down beside him. "What did he mean? Is...is that why...when the photo of us got posted online, it just vanished the next day? I mean, okay, I guess it's a godsend something else came up but...did Chairman Rose really pay the press off? I'm sure that man won't do things for free......Is it coming from your pay cut?" Although you're not sure exactly how Raihan's making money - either from being sponsored by various companies or individuals, or from his social media - you're not sure but now that you think about it... well, you didn't think about it until now.

He nods.

Oh, shit. Your lip trembles slightly and you rub your elbow awkwardly. "Oh, Raihan."

"It's fine. I didn't want you to worry or get hurt." Raihan says, smiling gently before he reaches for your hand, entwining your fingers with his. You gaze at him worriedly and when he drops the smile, you carefully pull your hand free from his and taking a deep breath, you attempt to calm your thundering heart as you awkwardly slide your arms around him. This is your first time taking the initiative and your cheeks feel warmer than usual. He realises this too and he looks at you in surprise before you give him a squeeze. So... here you are, showing affection and care.

"I think it's best if we lay low after this." You mutter, "Chairman Rose is right. This is getting worse...and your career might be ruined. It's not worth it."

In response, he gives you a tight squeeze.

You hear someone clearing your throat and that's when you both throw your glances over. It's Looker; he looks slightly disgruntled. "Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to check if you’re both okay.”

“Thanks, Looker,” Raihan replies, "We're fine."

”Good.”

As he begins to leave, his Rotom hovers into the air and exclaims, "Bzzzt! Confirmed visual! Suspect is at Rose Tower!"

"Thanks, Rotom. Let's go."

You turn to Raihan and your gazes meet. "...Should we go with him?"

....

Looker leaves Ballonlea and makes his way to Rose Tower; arriving at reception, he shows the receptionist his badge and proceeds to tell her he's looking for someone. He gives a name - a female's - and the receptionist checks internal employee records and informs him this particular employee is located on the fifteenth floor, belonging to the IT department. Looker thanks her and enters the awaiting lift. He's only been to Rose Tower a few occasions and discovers it's quite a sterile environment. He watches various Macro Cosmos employees walking around, all donned in the casual, cool uniform, with the hat and shades and the funky-looking triangle shaped pokeball holders stuck to their hips. They're all role model trainers - friendly, intelligent and hip.

Rotom did an excellent job - Raihan's biggest fan is a Marco Cosmos employee who lives in Spikemuth. It was typical - drunk father, dilapidated environment, hundreds of photos of Raihan in her room... This will be over soon.

Once the lift doors open, Looker finds the next reception desk and asks the lady for the girl and where she sits; the lady asks if she should call her - Looker says no, but asks for access inside - the lady kindly grants permission to enter the IT floor using her pass. Once inside, there are rows and rows of desks in open plan all filled with large computer screens - many employees are looking at two or four screens at one time, tip-tapping away rapidly into their computers. There's numerous Porygon floating around but they don't pay attention to him.

Looker goes up to a random employee and asks if he knows where the girl is. The employee tells him that she's at a booth and points down the hallway. Looker curses and makes his way as quickly as he can to the hot desk area where he sees a lone girl with her back to him, sitting at one of the terminals. Looks like she's in the middle of uploading something. Shit, it's not the video, right? A Banette stands beside her and once it senses Looker's arrival, it tugs on her elbow and hisses, a rattling noise emitting from its body.

"Stop!" Looker yells; he's just a few feet from her and the girl abruptly turns round in her swivel chair. "Don't do it."

It's a young girl; maybe even younger than Raihan's current girlfriend. Looker wasn't sure what to exactly expect but she seems perfectly normal. "Who...who are you??" She demands, clearly stunned by his arrival.

"Don't do it." Looker says sternly; he doesn't bother with any introductions. "I know who you are and what you did. Are you sure you want to do this to Raihan?" Looker points to the computer where the screen is frozen with the commands 'Confirm' or 'Cancel' and she throws her glance to the monitor. "Do you have it in your heart to do something like this to him? Is this something you really want to do? Think about it. If you press that button, you'll ruin everything he's worked for and you know he's worked hard to get to where he is now."

The girl looks annoyed at his words, "I-I don't know what you're talking about. Please leave."

"I went to your home and spoke to your father, and I found the hotel room with the slot behind the light switch where you put the camera. We know what you did to the Deerling. Do you really want to go through with this?"

He's expecting some kind of angry response, some form of retaliation to his claims. However, she merely closes her eyes, re-opens them and says, "You don't understand, nobody does. If I don't do this then he won't even bat an eyelid at me. I did everything for him. He is my everything. I've done everything for him and it's still not enough. He didn't see me at all. He doesn't see me...why doesn't he see me? I do so much for him. I comment on every video and photo, I go to as many matches as I can, I changed myself, I changed my hair, my eyes - but it didn't work, nothing did."

"And are you happy with yourself? With who and what you have become?"

She grows silent.

"You aren't, are you? You probably don't recognise yourself anymore. You probably don't even know who you are anymore. Deep inside, you know this is wrong."

"She was one step ahead. It should've been me, it was supposed to be me."

"But it wasn't. And now you're angry, you're upset and betrayed."

"Yes."

"It doesn't have to be this way."

A brief silence spawns before she casts her morose gaze to the floor. She utters, "He helped me get up every morning....helped me get through the day. If it wasn't for him, I probably would've killed myself a long time ago."

"I understand." Looker replies, "If you really love him, then you would forgive him."

Before the girl can say anything, however, there's the sound of footsteps approaching and Looker turns to see Raihan and his girlfriend standing at the hallway along with a random Macro Cosmos employee - looks like they've just arrived and everyone seems stunned to see each other.

Chaos ensues:

"What's going on here?!" The Marco Cosmos employee demands.

"Goddamnit, what the hell are you two doing here?!" Looker barks angrily; he rarely loses his cool, but this...? Motherfurret!

"What the...what is she doing here?!" The obsessed fan begins to screams; her calm demeanour vanishes at once and her expression turns murderous as she glances at Banette. "Go Banette, attack! Use Shadow Ball!" She promptly turns to the computer and Looker fumbles for a pokeball.

"Growlithe, stop her!" He throws the capsule and releases the puppy pokemon who immediately dashes over and bites on the sleeve of her uniform, pulling her arm away from the mouse but she's able to start the upload.

Banette's Shadow Ball hurtles towards the gym leader's direction; Raihan releases his Duraludon to shield his girlfriend whilst he also throws himself over her. She cannot react in time to Banette's attack but a pokeball stuck to her waist opens up and a burst of light appears, revealing another pokemon that blocks the attack along with Duraludon - it's a Garchomp - and it immediately retaliates with a Dragon Claw, knocking the Banette out in one smooth hit. Looker rushes up to the desk and grabs the mouse, cancelling the upload before it reaches one hundred per cent. Banette's attack bounces off Duraludon and the room grows silent.

”No, Banette!” The obsessed fan screams as Growlithe tugs her away from the computer and Looker quickly pulls out the USB device. With her other hand, she grabs a pokeball off her belt and tosses it forwards, “Druddigon, go!"

As a massive pokemon appears and attacks Growlithe, she is released and she quickly returns her fainted Banette into an Ultra ball before making a run for it. Looker chases after her as she disappears into the emergency exit.

...

"Beldum, use Take Down!"

From that day on, you took Beldum outside to train everyday. The mountains near your home was an ideal place and after a few days of scouring, you found a small patch of grass containing weak pokemon which you could use to train Beldum, namely Trapinch who are at a level much lower than Beldum. You direct Beldum when to attack and avoid and when the Trapinch faints, you jump and down on the spot with joy.

"Yay! You did it!"

Beldum turns to you, eye curling with happiness. You can't always tell what it's thinking but you know it enjoys training. You can also feel it's growing stronger as the days pass. Beldum is not strong enough to face other pokemon so you only have him face Trapinch and so far, you're also noticing that his attack stats are getting stronger compared to his others.

"Phew! Let's go home!" You exclaim, "It's been a long day."

Beldum nods in agreement. You've used up all your potions to keep his health up; no worries though, because Glenn will be going to the pokemart tomorrow and you can ask him to buy some for you. As you return Beldum to his pokeball, suddenly it disappears from your hand and you're shoved from behind. Landing on the ground, your knees scraping in process, you look up to see a group of boys on their bikes who are clutching Beldum's pokeball. Urgh, if it isn't Graham and his little gang.

"Hey! Give me him back!" You yell angrily as you get up wobbly. Your knees are bleeding and so are your palms, but Beldum was more of your concern.

"You want him? Then come get 'im!" Graham exclaims, before he starts pedalling away on his bike. His cronies follow and you growl under your breath, grabbing the handlebars of your bike and lifting it off the ground. You follow the boys as fast as you could go, going deeper and deeper into the forest and up a steep mountain path until you see them up ahead and looks like they've ditched their bikes to crouch in front of some bushes; once you arrive, you climb off your bike and run up to them, furious.

Before you can even yell, Graham grabs you and slaps his grubby hand over your mouth, silencing you. "Shhhh! It'll hear you!" He hisses and you blink, wide-eyed.

He drags you towards the rest of his group where they're spying on a large dragon pokemon in a cave that is hunched over a Deerling... it's a small, feeble thing - and your eyes widen as you see the large pokemon smash the Deerling's head into the ground and it lets out a weak but horrifying, pained bleat until it stops moving. Growling low, the massive dragon pokemon begins to sink its jaws into its body and tear at the flesh. Using it's massive claws, it proceeds to tear the body apart and you see nothing but blood and entrails. The boys are staring, transfixed, whilst you watch in horror. You try to escape but Graham's grip on you is too strong as he forces you to watch, much to your disgust.

"W-what is it?" One of the boys asks.

"I think it's a Druddigon."

"And it's eating that Deerling!"

In unison, they all coo in awe even though you're horrified and repulsed and you try to escape once more, your foot stepping over a twig and causing it to snap loudly.  Everyone gasps as the Druddigon immediately turns its head to your direction and the boys make a run for it; Graham lets go of you and pushes you to the ground once more and your head smacks against the dirt. As you sit up, your vision is slightly blurred as you watch the boys grabbing their bikes and pedal away, leaving you behind. You don't know where Beldum is until it appears in a burst of light and hovers in front of you protectively.

"Beldum!" You exclaim with relief. Glancing around, you find Beldum's discarded pokeball and grab it, just as a massive shadow covers your form and you look up to see the huge Druddigon before you. It lets out an insanely loud roar and you scream, throwing your arms over your head to brace for impact -

- but nothing happens.

Lowering your arms, you glance over to see a small blue pokemon with a red tummy that has stopped the Druddigon in its rage; it stands alongside your Beldum, facing off against the dragon. It waves it's little arms and snaps its jaws as it attempts to kick sand at the Druddigon and you know it's using Sand Attack.

A Gible?

Standing up, you know neither of the pokemon are a match against the Druddigon so you recklessly grab your Beldum and the Gible and take off running.

....

Oh crumbs, Looker had almost calmed down the culprit but your group ruined it by waltzing into the scene. Neither of you were aware, of course; you and Raihan had merely arrived at Rose Tower and asked if anyone had seen Looker. A kind Macro Cosmos employee said yes and agreed to take you over to see him. However, the moment you saw that Druddigon and fear gripped you like ice. It's been a long time since you've been afraid and you’re brought to your senses when you hear Garchomp growling and you blink, turning to him.

"Chompy?"

Garchomp emits another growl; you know he's asking if you're okay.

"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry about that. Thanks for saving me."

He nods and then turns to the Druddigon.

Ah, that's right. A Gible came to save you that day. It just came out from nowhere and once you successfully ran away from the Druddigon, it decided to stay with you and Beldum. Ever since you added Gible to your team, you trained him until he evolved into a Garchomp and now he's one of your most reliable fighters along with Metagross. You smile fondly at Garchomp as he waddles in front of you and you quickly come to realise that Raihan's Duraludon is fighting the Druddigon; he's whittled down the Druddigon's health until it's weak and you hastily issue a command to finish it off: “Garchomp, use Dragon Claw.” You instruct, and your pokemon strikes down your opponent with speed and strength like no other.

Druddigon is quickly knocked out and Raihan turns to you and your pokemon, grinning. "We make a good team."

You're not sure what to think - Looker was handling it fine without you two. "We shouldn't have come. What were we thinking? We're not ten years old anymore. I'm too old for this." You reply, and Raihan chuckles. Turning to the Macro Cosmos employee who has escorted you to Looker, you see he's busy on the phone informing his superiors about an emergency - also, the entire IT hot desk area is in complete disarray. Your skirmish with Banette and Drudiggon has resulted in many upturned computers and chairs and a few broken desks.

"C'mon, we need to help Looker." Raihan says, reaching for your hand.

You nod and you both recall your pokemon, then head towards the direction where Looker and the girl sprinted off to.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins and your pulse is racing. This is definitely a date to remember. You're going to remember this day for a long time. You reach the emergency exit, opening the doors where you see the stairs as well as three lifts. It's eerily silent - if Looker was chasing the girl, you would hear them, right? Two of the lifts are heading up, so naturally you assume they've taken the lift - looks like it's going to the very top floor - and you and Raihan immediately jump into the third lift once it arrives and take it all the way up. This very exciting moment is temporarily put on hold as you stand side by side and listen to dingy elevator music on your way to the top; Raihan even attempts to take a selfie. He tries to include you in the photo too but you're not in the mood for photos so you politely decline.

Once the doors slide to an open, action rears it's ugly head again - you and Raihan find yourself in a huge outdoor arena; the air here is terribly chilly and you can feel strong gusts of wind blowing from the stands. Your breath comes out in short puffs and you begin to shiver but you see Looker and the obsessed fan ahead; they have finished a pokemon battle with Looker recalling his fainted pokemon. You and Raihan rush up to him but he holds his arm out.

"Don't do anything rash." He warns, and you take note of the obsessed fan who is standing a distance away. The moment she sees Raihan, and her eyes widen with fright.

"Thanks, Looker. What's her name?"

Looker tells him.

"Thanks, I'll talk to her." Raihan mutters.

"Wait, don't - " You and Looker speak in unison, but Raihan is already walking towards her. You help Looker stand on his feet and you both watch Raihan approach the girl. The atmosphere feels terse, thick with tension.

"Hi," He says, smiling, "You're my biggest fan, right?"

"Y-yes, I am." Strange, she's very timid all of a sudden.

He says her name and she nods.

"You....you know my name?"

"Of course I do."

She clamps a hand over her mouth in shock before tears begin bubbling in her eyes.

"Thanks for supporting me. If it weren't for you, for all of you, things could've turned out a lot differently for me. Thanks for being there for me. I get a lot of harsh comments, but you've always cheered me on. Thank you."

She nods vigorously. "Yes, yes, of course I will!!! You're so important to me, I-I - " She clutches her chest, "I can't believe this, you're...you-you're actually talking to me. I-I've always imagined this! And it's really happening!" She can't seem to control herself now as she splutters and stutters before she reaches for him. She wants to touch him and she begins making her way towards him. Raihan doesn't move, allowing her to approach. What the hell?! You try to interrupt but it's too late - as soon as she's in arm's length of him, you see her pulling a knife from behind her and Raihan doesn't realise -

You release Garchomp from his pokeball and he executes a Slash, causing the knife to go clattering out from her hand. She whips her head to you, furious; Raihan exchanges glances between the two of you whilst Looker hurriedly collects the knife.

"I challenge you to a pokemon battle!" You find yourself yelling out; you need to avert her attention from Raihan or else she'll try to pull a stunt like that again should she get the chance. Enraged, the obsessed fan accepts the challenge, grabs a pokeball from her belt and releases her pokemon. It's a Garchomp, too.

"Garchomp, use Dragon Tail!" She directs her pokemon to attack first.

"Outrage!" You yell, and you watch as both Garchomp lunge at each other. You will show no mercy. The moment they clash and you wince as the Dragon Tail connects with your pokemon; your Garchomp assaults the opponent at the same time and both pokemon land on the ground. Her Garchomp wobbles slightly before collapsing. Success! The enemy Garchomp is knocked out cold and your Garchomp is still standing!

Annoyed, she recalls her fainted Garchomp whilst yours stands proudly in the arena, victorious. She chooses her next pokeball and throws it high into the air. "Go, Dragonite!"

You return Garchomp, thank him for his hard work and choose your next battler. "Go, Tyranitar!"

Raihan watches you and your pokemon with his arms crossed and a smile; you know he's impressed but there's no time to waste.

"Hyper Beam!" The obsessed fan commands, and the Dragonite begins gathering energy in its mouth.

"Ice Punch!" You yell, and Tyranitar acknowledges your instruction with a roar and slams one arm towards the direction of the Dragonite's belly. A cluster of thick ice surrounds your Tyranitar's claw which proceeds to ram into the Dragonite and it stops in mid-attack, promptly knocking out the dragon pokemon with one hit. It's super effective!!!!

The Dragonite is recalled and there's only one pokeball attached to her belt; the obsessed fan is down to her last pokemon. You wonder what her final pokemon is - and she tosses the ball onto the field. A Hydreigon appears in a burst of light and you stare as she quickly returns it; a bright red light appears on her wrist and begins to gather around her - she has a Dynamax band - and she grabs the ball which has become enlarged and throws it high into the air, revealing the Dynamaxed Hydreigon. It promptly flaps its massive wings and a fierce gust of wind almost knocks you off your feet if Tyranitar didn't help by shielding you.

"Thanks, boy." You say, as Tyranitar growls affectionately at you before turning to face the gigantic Hydreigon. "It's Dynamaxed but don't be afraid."

Tyranitar throws it's glance to the ground, twiddling it's claws together timidly.

"You can do it! I believe in you!!" You pat him on the back, and Tyranitar returns to the field. "Use Stone Edge!"

Your Tyranitar nods and emits a roar; the ground shakes and just as the Hydreigon is beginning it attack, Tyranitar summons enormous pillars of rock that burst out from the ground and slams into the Hydreigon without delay. Although it's not a super effective move, the attack hits the Hydreigon square in the chest and it begins to explode in a glorious display of fire and light before it begins to return to normal size. He did it!!

Raihan and Looker watch as the dust clears away. The obsessed fan is out of pokemon. Your pokemon had completely and utterly decimated her team in minutes and her jaw drops in disbelief.

"No!" She yells, furious. Distraught, she looks around the arena shakily before she runs for the railings - you know what she's trying to do - before she can throw herself off, Raihan has grabbed her, hauling her away from the edge just in time. She lands in his chest as he drops over the floor and she attempts to wriggle free, flailing violently. Although you wonder if she's got another knife hidden somewhere, you get the feeling she's out of options and now she is truly helpless. Raihan sits up with the girl who's crying heavily and she's immediately intercepted by Looker who takes out a pair of handcuffs, slapping them on her wrists.

You recall Tyranitar, rush over to Raihan as he gets up to stand, grinning at you. Without thinking twice, you throw your arms around him; he's taken aback by your action, eyes wide, before he chuckles and quickly wraps his arms around you in return and scoops you off the ground; you find your feet leaving the floor and you quickly adjust yourself to this new position, slipping your arms around his neck whilst he keeps you hoisted up with his arms tucked under your knees, your chest pressed against his.

"You idiot, you could've gotten killed!" You can't help but scold him.

Your faces are close as he clutches you. "I'm sorry I made you worry."

"Not good enough." You retort, "Don't do that ever again!"

"Okay." He leans in and quickly pecks you on the mouth and you find your anger subsiding; you can't stay mad at him.

The two of you then turn to Looker who is escorting the obsessed fan out of the arena and towards the lifts. She's still crying uncontrollably, and Looker glances at you and Raihan. "Good job," Looker grunts out, "Thanks for your help, I appreciate it."

"What's going to happen now?"

"You both need to come with me to the police station." Looker replies, and Raihan - still carrying you - begins to trail after him.

"You can let me down." You tell him but he merely smiles at you cheerfully.

"Nope, I like carrying my princess like this ~ "

...

At the police station, there's a lot to do but Looker releases both yourself and Raihan after a few hours; you have provided another set of testimony and it does appear the case is closed. He thanks you for your efforts in stopping the obsessed fan and also your assistance with police investigation. Unused to receiving compliments, you stuttered out that you didn't do anything substantial. Meanwhile, there is some damage to Rose Tower but Macro Cosmos will deal with this themselves and Looker will ensure there are no repercussions on you and Raihan. When you ask Looker what will happen next, Looker informs you that the fan is charged with a number of crimes - recording illegally, blackmail, abuse of employee rights, invasion of privacy, attempted murder and pokemon slaughter. It will depend if charges are to be pressed - in a few days, she could stand trial and her pokemon, confiscated.

Attempted murder? It sounds serious and you scratch your head in befuddlement. It's taking a while to sink in that you were in a dangerous situation earlier...it's like something out of a crime drama or an action movie. Again, these sorts of stuff might happen to your friends, yes. Just not...you.

You can't help but wonder how Raihan feels. Is he doing well? Should he see a counsellor after this? Is he traumatised? You stand at the vending machine, slotting in coins for two fresh waters. You collect the drinks and turn round to see Raihan sitting quietly with his gaze trained on the floor. He's not on his phone, either. You sit down beside him and hand him the bottle of water; he thanks you, unscrews the lid and takes a few gulps.

You both sit in silence for a while until you say, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He breathes in and exhales gently then leans back on the seat, resting his elbows on the chair and looks up at the ceiling. You guess he isn’t in a mood to talk - which you will respect so you don't press him any further. However, he reaches for you, lifts you off your seat and eases you into his lap. He lifts you up as though you weighed nothing. You blink owlishly as he encircles his arms around your waist and buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. You're unmoving for a few moments before you slowly wrap your arms around him. Your action prompts him to clutch onto you tighter, his grip on you increasing.

It becomes a full body hug with your chest pressed tightly against his and your hips knocking together, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck whilst he holds you by the waist. You’re so close to him you can feel his breath on your cheeks. You rest your chin on his shoulder and give him a little rub on his back. His muscles are tense. You hope he will loosen up but all Raihan does is hold you close to him and you can feel the warmth that radiates from his body as well as his steady heartbeat. This actually feels...nice.

There's never a dull moment with Raihan, because he begins trailing little kisses over the side of your face as you cling onto him. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he presses another kiss over your cheek and finally, your lips.

...

Once you return home, you open the door to see Glenn in your living room, playing with your Pokemon. He's wearing a Hydreigon hood with Hydreigon sock puppets on each hand. You bristle at the sight but say nothing. Meanwhile, Espeon sits at his feet, watching. Even Poliwag has left the bathroom and is now sitting in the armchair to his left. Upon your arrival, everyone looks up and Glenn removes the hood and grins widely at you, "Yo!!! How was the date?"

You exhale loudly as you trudge over, removing your bag and collapsing over the couch beside him; you drop your head on his shoulder and groan. "It was fine. I have something for you." You take out Ponyta's pokeball and hand it to him. Glenn has been looking for one for a long time and you know he really wants one, so you figured you'd gift it to him.

"Ohh, a pokemon! This is so exciting! I wonder what's inside?" Glenn takes the pokeball off you and opens it, releasing the horse pokemon and for a few seconds, he's stunned as it lets out a high-pitched whinny and clops its hooves. Glenn's jaw hits the floor. "Oh my Drowzee, whaaaaaat! No way!! Whaaaaaaat? Nooooo, it can't be - whaaaat!"

"Yep, it's a Galarian Ponyta."

He lets out a hoot of joy. "Thanks, sis!!!!" Glenn exclaims cheerfully as he reaches over and pinches at your nose with his fingers hidden behind the Hydreigon puppet before he rushes over to the Ponyta and throws his arms around it. "Ohhh, you're so beautiful, yes you are!! I'm gonna call you 'Sugarplum'."

You giggle as Glenn continues fawning and doting over the Ponyta who neighs in response as he hugs it. It appears to have taken a liking to him immediately and he returns it to the ball, grinning widely. "Thanks, sis!"

"Raihan caught it but he gave it to me.”

He blinks. "Really?! That's amazing! Can you thank him for me?"

"Of course."

You and Glenn settle on the couch again where he continues where he left off with the Hydreigon puppet, "Hydreigon used Dazzling Gleam!"

You wrinkle your nose in response; you don't remember Hydreigon being capable of using this fairy type move, but you're well aware Glenn likes to improvise a lot. "Do you have another puppet?"

"I sure do." Glenn fishes around his bag and gives you a puppet - it's an Espurr with pink beady, glassy eyes - and you promptly drape it over your right hand. Phantump and Drifloon watch, engrossed. "Hydreigon used Dark Pulse!"

"Nooooo, it's super effective!" You cry, shaking your puppet and Espeon hisses angrily at Glenn, "But Espurr clung on using it's Focus Sash! Espurr used Play Rough!"

"It's super effective!!!" Glenn roars, throwing his fists into the air, "Hydreigon regained a little of it's HP using its Leftovers! Hydreigon used Dragon Pulse!"

"Espurr fainted!" You yell, and you make the Espurr puppet squeak with pain before doubling over. Phantump trills loudly in response whilst Poliwag and Drifloon looks between the two of you. And Espeon is still hissing in dismay. When it grows silent, the two of you burst into laughter before you drop to the couch, exhausted.

"Long day, huh?" He asks, when you stop laughing.

"Yeah," You say, "...It was a long day."

...

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #367

“i should warn you that you may fuck me, but chances are i’m gonna fuck you over”

Where was the last place you went for vacation? The beach. When was the last time you wore makeup? Halloween. Do you watch soaps or drama series? If so, which ones? Not currently. What’s your favourite tomato variety? I hate tomatoes. What was your very first pet like? Dad had a dog named Trigger when I was born, but I have no memory of her, so I'm excluding her. I consider our first family pet to be Chance, a cat my mom took in after finding her literally in the trash. She was... god, incredible. She was a loyal friend, and I can imagine no greater mother than she was (she legit fought off a rottweiler head-on to protect her kittens). She was so smart, so gentle, and just simply amazing. I'll always miss her. What was the best school project you remember doing? Looking back, despite the fact it TERRIFIED me before, that would be my senior project presentation. It was about snake misconceptions and fallacies, so I made a slideshow to present to the special ed class. I made drawings for them to color, word searches, all that kind of stuff. They were just the sweetest and seemed really into it. What’s your favourite type of fish to eat? None. What kind of an old person do you think you’ll become? I really... don't like thinking about this. Like I'm weak enough now at 25, I can't imagine how my, say, 60s would be. I hope and just about pray that my physical health will improve, but I'm just going to exclude that part entirely from this answer. Personality-wise and such, I have a feeling I'll be the quiet and sweet kind, the one that loves her (hopeful) spouse like crazy, and comes most alive on Halloween if I live in a place where children come trick-or-treating. I imagine I would LOVE that. I'd love to be the type that goes on morning jogs to help stay spry. Which well-known person’s death shocked you the most, if any? Steve Irwin and Chester Bennington might be tied. Both were so, so sudden. Steve was like, invincible to my childhood eyes, and when I heard about Chester's death, I thought it was just a sick rumor. Two amazing people that died way too soon. What’s the craziest colour you’d dye your hair? That would depend on personal opinions. I want to dye my hair LOTS of colors though, if that tells you anything. What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus. It's a pretty short game if you know what you're doing, and it's super relaxing to me and just so goddamn pretty to look at. Every time I've played it has just been a pleasant experience. Do you like meatloaf? Yeah, it's fine. How about Meatloaf? I know who he is, but I've never really listened to his music. Do you take time to do charitable work? If so, what do you do? No. ;_; Especially with all the free time I have, I really should... What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Okay, don't ask, but if I for a SECOND see that commercial of Mr. Clean dancing while he's cleaning, I will die because of memories. What is something you hope you will never inherit from a specific relative? Diabetes. It runs heavily in my family. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name: The Human Centipede. No. Thank you. Have you ever played in a stack of hay bales? No. What’s your dearest souvenir? The stuffed moose I got at Cabela's during a visit to Ohio. I named him Brownie, and he was my "childhood plushie" we all have. Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? Not in the actual area I live in, but there are DEFINITELY places where it's a pigsty of distasteful shit. Have you ever made your own soda? (Soda Stream doesn’t count!) No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Have you ever been part of a theater group? No, that stuff doesn't interest me. What’s the most ecological thing you do? We recycle, and I also use metal straws. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. There is no fucking way I could do it. What’s your favourite board game? Why do you like it best? I like Clue just because of the mystery-solving factor, and I think it's kinda cool how you can think ahead and use other's findings to your own advantage to win the game pretty early. Besides English, what other languages can you speak? Some German. It's gotten pretty weak with neglect, though. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you’ve been? This is a complicated answer that I just don't feel like elaborating on. What’s the most freeing thing you’ve ever done? Letting Jason go. Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? If not, would you even want to try one? No, and I'm not interested. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? Honeysuckles. What has been your worst restaurant experience? Well, it's a fast food restaurant, but lemme tell you about my vegetarian encounter with Burger King. I ordered their veggie burger. Which they have. It's not a secret. These idiots gave me a bun with tomato and lettuce, and I think mayo on it, after sounding confused when Mom was ordering for me. Mom went back in there of course to tell them, and oh god was the manager pissed, lol. I got my veggie burger in the end. What’s the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? Some sexually inappropriate jokes can still get me sadly, lol. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? Not literally, but boy do I think depression counts. Do you ever compare your life to somebody else’s? If so, why? Y E P. I can't tell you why, I just... do it. I look at other's successes and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?", and beat myself up about being a failure. What is a food item or a dish you absolutely cannot stand? Brussel sprouts, asparagus, runny eggs, many other things because I'm just mega picky. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? Just the spray paint kind that vendors like to do at the beach and stuff. I don't remember any I got, though. What does your favourite mug look like? It's black with a Markiplier quote on it, given to me by Sara. :') Do you ever read other people’s survey answers? Yeah! Friends', anyway. I love learning all the obscure things about them. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, specifically early morning, because it's better for my depression. Are you more comfortable as a leader or a follower? A follower that isn't afraid to speak up when I'm really against something. What is your favourite song right now at this very moment? I've been really into "7empest" by Tool lately, and the synthwave edit of "Voices" by Motionless In White. If you watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? I don't remember it well, but I think I liked the butler. Was there even a butler? Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') Do you have any plants in your home? No. If you wear makeup, what’s the most outrageous colour you use? I only ever use black. What was the last photograph you took? My cat being adorable while sleeping. <3 Have you ever submitted a video to Funniest Home Videos? No. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer? I absolutely hated it. Do you have a headache at the moment? Yes, actually. I've really been attacked by the Covid shot side effects. Are your parents still together? No, thank god. What was the last hot food you ate? I made a chicken and I think pesto (some Italian noodles, idk) Healthy Choice bowl for dinner last night. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. :( Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? I'm sure people have before, and back then? Rightfully so. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Never watched it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Always. It's so weird how it's gotten worse with time since leaving school, even though I write... Were you a straight A student in math? Yeah, no. I usually got Bs or Cs. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. I don't really like yellow. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Have a stable job. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES. Do you feel a connection to the moon? It's not something I think about, so not really, but I do believe all things in the universe are connected in some way. We are simply a part of nature, as all else is. What does your heart long for? Contentment in who I am and where I am in life. I know I also miss being in love. Do you know what your purpose in life is? We have no innate purpose; we make our own, and I want mine to be to show others that there is always hope for yourself in yourself, and also to spread the message of love of all animals. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year I didn't. I really should change that this go around. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes! They're a kind of rare sight here sadly, so when I had the opportunity to photograph a fox tragically as roadkill, it was a photographic experience I won't forget. God, I wanted to pet it (I obviously didn't), but I did talk to it about how beautiful (s)he was as I got some shots. I never had a harder time leaving one of those angels I've taken pictures of. Do you find Halloween fun or scary? FUN!!!!!! Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Not at all. What do the trees look like where you live? I mean, there's a variety, but the staple that you see literally everywhere are pine trees. What is your dream vacation? Somewhere with mountains, clear lakes, cool weather, beautiful and various wildlife... What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Disney World as a kid. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? The zoo in the 5th grade. It was the one occasion I got to see meerkats. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I lived for them. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find science museums to be very, very fascinating. Art ones are great, too. What are three issues you are passionate about? LGBT rights, the pro-choice movement, and wildlife conservation, to name a few. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all. What size is your bed? Queen. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? When we were experimenting with my Klonopin dosage, I learned that 3mg was enough to knock me on my ASS. Do you like bath bombs? I mean they're pretty, but I wouldn't waste money on 'em. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Yikes, a looooooot. But this also depends on what you think qualifies as "small." Most of my favorite "small" YTers are tarantula keepers or sub-1M let's players. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier obviously, Snake Discovery, Good Mythical Morning (even if I don't watch them anymore, they are veeery dear to my heart and I will always support them), Sam & Colby... Again, there's a lot. When you don't watch TV and YT instead, you really get attached to a lot of them. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Would you believe me if I said Pussycat Dolls? haha Do you like Disney movies? Um, DUH. Were you ever in the popular crowd? No. Have you ever used an outhouse? UGH, at like childhood sports games, yes. I could NEVER nowadays, oh my god. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I have the creativity to, but not the dedication. Are there any foods that make you gag? Beans, for one. I just canNOT with them. It's a completely involuntary reaction. Have you ever had blonde highlights in your hair? I think I did? Who was the last person you video-chatted with? The lady who was seeing if I qualified for TMS therapy. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Definitely not, I love those. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I don't actually want one, but if I did, I'd go to a serious professional to get THE Darkiplier smile. :') If u know u know. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you think half blonde/half dark brown hair is attractive? It looks great on some people, but it's not my favorite combo.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 35

Negan didn’t take Carl and me somewhere and ditch our bodies after beating our brains out with his best girl, Lucille. Sadly. Instead, he took us on a road trip. Back to Alexandria. He regaled us, the entire way there with all the ways that he COULD have killed Carl. How he could have forced me to have to watch him put down my baby brother for daring to attack as he had.

I let his bullshit roll over me. I’m learning, slowly, that Negan loves the sound of his own voice. And he truly adores putting fear into the hearts of those who allow it. Instead, I watch out the windshield as we drive along the road. Abandoned cars. A smattering of walkers. And the feeling of being fully aware of everything for the first time in a long time.

When we arrive at the gates, no one dares to stop us from coming inside. With both Carl and me at his side, Negan makes his way to Dad’s house. And, instead of walking in like he owns the place, which I’d expected, he knocks. Olivia, the woman who’d kept the inventory for the armory and pantry answered, and I wondered if she was my replacement in my former house.

I can’t remember having much interaction with her before, when I was still an Alexandrian. It doesn’t strike me as very strange how intimidated she seems by Negan. He’s a hard pill to swallow when he’s trying to play therapist, but when he’s just being himself, well then you see an asshole in full bloom. She tries to get rid of us, because whether she understands or not, Negan and I are a matched set right now. She tells Negan that Dad is out scavenging, that he probably won’t be back by the end of today. I wonder if Michonne went with him, and that’s why she’s here, to watch my baby sister.

She talks about how they’re low on supplies, how they’re practically starving, and then Negan shows just how fucking charming he is. A raised eyebrow. He looks her up and down and insults her by insinuating that since she’s curvy, that he doubts her sincerity. And, yes, I’m editing his bullshit, because it was disgustingly mean. He catches my eye, and sees my glare, so he tries his hand at apologizing.

Of course, this is Negan we’re talking about so once he tries to say sorry in his own classy way, he follows up with an offer that has me rolling my damn eyes. “I think it would be enjoyable to screw your brains out. I mean if, you know, you’re agreeable to it.” Dear fucking Christ, does he have a filter at all?

And Olivia, who I can’t recall much about, does something that has me fucking grinning from ear to ear. She slaps him straight across his smug, arrogant face. The crack makes my heart sing.

Negan ruins the fucking experience by telling her, after she rocks his fucking head on his shoulders with that slap, “I’m about fifty percent more into you now. Just saying.” Ugh. Seriously? He catches whatever look I have on my face, smirks at me, and winks. Could he be more crude and annoying?

He dismisses her, letting her leave his royal presence to fix lemonade that he knows he left behind. Powered lemonade is his newest whim, and I wonder if Olivia had it in her to fucking poison him.

Of course, we couldn’t just drop my little brother off at home, get back in the damn box-truck, and head the fuck back from whence we came. Now, where would Negan’s fun be in that?

Olivia, acting as though I’m an enemy too, stays in the house as Negan takes a grand tour. Taking off his boots, testing the carpet in Carl’s room with his bare feet, I have to wonder if he’s truly enjoying the feel of it because of the novelty, or if he’s checking to see if wiping his bare ass across it would cause him discomfort. Watching the steady stream of water as though he’s never had it before. He looked around what had been my room with interest. Uncomfortable interest, as though he’d find something more about me. Good luck.

And then, as we passed the room where Judith sleeps, he goes to open the door and I shake my head and tell him it’s just another empty room. He squints at me, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Really?” I ask him, raising my eyebrow. “Why are you interested in empty rooms?”

He calls my bluff and opens the door, and there she is. My little sister, the ONLY thing I regret leaving behind. And the ONE person in the world that I wanted to protect, from him, from the world at large and he’s found her.

“Oh my!” He doesn’t raise his voice, as he draws nearer to her, and handing Carl his precious Lucille, he almost seems in awe of her. “Look at this little angel.” And then she’s in his arms, and he’s being incredibly gentle with her, as he looks over her sweet blonde curls at me. His tenderness is a surprise, even if he’d never shown me the mean streak I knew ran in him.

Judith is holding a stuffed elephant as he bounces her gently in his arms. He takes a minute to study her, and then looks once again at me. And I wonder at the clear question in his eyes. What could Negan possibly want with this? With Dad’s life? With mine?

Negan makes himself at home in Dad’s house. He shaves with Dad’s straight razor, giving Carl advice like “against the grain, always go against the grain”. He’d handed Judith to me before he went into the bathroom, and I started to turn away, to take her somewhere alone, but he stopped me. “No, sweetheart, you both stay.” Shooting a look at my brother he corrects himself. “All three of you stay.” Which is why I’m having my unscheduled visit with my baby sister in full view of the man I’d assumed would kill me.

While he’s shaving, giving out advice to Carl, he keeps watching me with her. As I quietly talk to her, running my hand down her soft curls, and checking her for signs that she missed me. Even a tiny bit. I can’t stop myself from kissing her head. From entertaining her with her stuffed animal. And I work hard to block out Negan’s interest. Pretending that he’s not filing my reactions away for another round of my therapy when we head back to his domain.

He fixes dinner. Spaghetti sauce from scratch. Noodles, obviously. And he enlists Carl to make rolls. Me? For once, since I offered myself in Glenn’s place, he allowed me to sit at the dining room table and have peace away from him. Still in view, of course, but at a distance. With Judith. And get lost in her, if only for a little bit.

Olivia returned with the lemonade, and I could feel her glaring at me. Her urge to grab Judith from my arms, to keep her safe from ME was clear as a bell on her face. I could also tell that Negan had noticed. “Be a lamb, Olivia, be a lamb.” He was reiterating what he’d said when he requested the lemonade earlier, only now the term that I’d taken as a taunt to the other woman, took on a new meaning. A warning, I could hear it in his voice. A threat, a reminder of who he was, and that I was with him was so evident that she rushed into the kitchen to make the drink.

Once dinner was prepared, we settled around the table, looking for all the world like a family dinner with a tinge of hostage situation. There’s an extra place setting, but I’m so wrapped up in my baby sister that I don’t pay attention to the why. I’d kept Judith on my lap, but we didn’t start to eat. Negan, clearly waiting for something, or someone. And I knew, he was holding dinner for Dad. A picture he’d created, a scene that would fuck with Dad’s head a little bit more. His children, a member of his community, and the very man who’d bested him, around his very own dining room table with a meal fit for a Sunday dinner from before the world turned to shit.

Negan has the patience of a toddler. Eventually he realized that Dad wasn’t going to return just because he’d set the stage. He finally gave in and asked Carl to pass the rolls. I hated to admit it, and I damn sure wouldn’t let him know, but he made a sauce that rivaled the Italian place that I’d loved while at college. I fed Judith from her own plate. I drank a bit of the lemonade that Olivia had made. And I tried, very hard, to ignore the feeling that Negan was watching me closely.

After eating, Negan decided it was perfect weather to sit on the porch and take in the scenery. He held out his arms, once he’d taken off his jacket, and I reluctantly handed Judith back to him. He took one chair and Carl took another. Negan looked like he was enchanted by my little sister. That in her he saw something that he hadn’t seen in far too long. Did I trust it? That he wasn’t dangerous to her? No. I didn’t. Not because he’d shown violence to me or her, but because the need to keep her safe. The need to make sure that she remained innocent of the world and its dangers was one of the few things that I’d never felt numb to was amplified by my mask developing the cracks that Negan’s meddling had created.

I leaned against the banister in front of them. Close to Negan, since she was in his arms, and I hadn’t noticed that Carl’s eyes were taking in my behavior, and Negan’s.

“So my sister doesn’t get to sit?” He bit out, glaring with his one unruined eye. “She has to stay quiet, she has to just blindly follow you around?”

I closed my eyes to his challenge. He didn’t get it. And I had a feeling no one, not even the rest of my family understood. Why I’d done it, why I had to stay beside him. Carl didn’t see me. No better than anyone else had. Dad had only had a glimpse, and even he didn’t get it.

“Have you seen me order her to stand?” Negan asked. “Have you seen me tell her not to look at you or speak to you?” He was challenging my brother’s assumptions. “Jesus, were you this fucking blind before you lost your eye?” I opened my eyes to see him cradling Judith to his chest. His voice stayed low, quite even, careful not to scare her. “I’ve been thinking about what you’d said earlier, Carl. Maybe it is stupid keeping you and your dad alive.” He pulled Judith forward, bouncing her on his knee and seemingly speaking to her. “I mean why am I trying so hard? Maybe I should just bury you both down there in those flower beds.” A gesture to the manicured lawn in front of us. He was staring into Judith’s tiny face, smiling and chuckling. “And then I can just settle in the suburbs.”

My heart clenched. Fear blossoming in my chest at the thought that my deal with him was all for nothing. That my brother’s actions, that his clear challenge of Negan’s power and his seeming inability to wipe all of us out was a sign that he was weak.

We’d gone back inside Dad’s house. Negan grew tired of taunting my brother and the neighbors. Judith was fussy, too much excitement I’d guessed. He’d given her back to me, watching as I rocked her in my arms and hummed to her. He followed me upstairs to put her down for her nap. Ignoring the dagger glare of Olivia, ignoring Carl’s unasked questions, the hurt that had flickered across his face when he decided that my silence was my own choice.

I was staring down at Judith as she drifted off to sleep clutching her elephant. Leaving her, today, would be more painful than my realization that I'd given her up for the ‘greater good’ had been. Holding her, feeling the rush of feelings that I’d gone numb to, the unconditional love I had for her, made it all the rawer. He watched me, leaning in the doorway, keeping his distance, letting me have this at least.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the maternal type, Jessi.” He kept his voice down, so Judith could rest. “I didn’t know that you fucking had her here, that she depended on you.” I could feel the intensity of his attention. “That you sacrificed your need for HER when you offered your life to me.”

I hadn’t noticed the tear falling. Didn’t even feel the usual burn warning that I would cry. His thumb brushed it from my cheek, startling me since I hadn’t heard him come closer. I kept my head down, drinking in Judith’s tiny person. Savoring it, memorizing it, so I could take this little piece of her with me. “Do you want to stay?” It was barely a breath. “Jessi, do you want to stay?”

I shook my head. A deal was a deal. And I wasn’t a shirker. Plus, I’d seen the look on Olivia’s face. The judgement. The insinuation that I was a traitor. A turncoat. In bed, I imagined her look inferred, with the enemy.

“No, I don’t want to stay.” I answered, keeping my voice as quiet as he did. “There’s nothing left here for me, nothing aside from her.” I couldn’t stop myself from running my hand down her back. Touching the softness that I’d taken care of for so damn long. “And she has other people for that now, to keep her safe.” It hurt to acknowledge that I was so easily replaced. That Dad had handed her care, her safety over without effort.

He left me there, letting me have my quiet and solace in the company of a sleeping little girl that had become my only reason to keep the motions going. The only reason that I kept up my mask. The only reason that I’d survived, even if I wasn’t living.

[alexis-vaughn]

💘 + Shane & Alexis

Headcanons meme dating edition from here

Long Post incoming!

where they first met and how

They first met in Highschool on a party where friends of Alex sneaked her in. She had heard a lot about him or watched him on the football field, but at that night they first met properly.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

Alex fell head over heels for him but it took a few weeks of knowing each other until they first had a date. Feelings were involved for her from the start, while Shane developed them during their dating time and as he realized how attached she was, he backed off cause he got scared he couldn’t give it back to her the way she deserved it.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Alex for Shane

where their first date was and what it was like

They went to grab some Icecream at a lake and took a long walk until they jumped into the water laughing, knowing they weren’t allowed to swim there. Before some cops could approach them, they swam to the other side of the lake and ran away holding each other’s hands.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

Shane asked Alex out after he noticed her interest and he simply asked her if she wants to spend some time together after school (a Thursday to be concrete cause his football games were on Friday’s )

who proposes first

Didn’t happen yet but I’m very sure it will be Shane after their reunion, cause Alex is always too scared to be turnt down from him again so she leaves everything up to him: the first kiss, the first sex, the first “I love you” and of course the proposal. After he broke her heart in the past, she simply doesn’t dare to make a step again to not ruin it.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

In Highschool they were very open about it cause Alex was so proud to be with him and Shane simply didn’t care about anyone’s opinion. After their reunion, they keep it more or less to themselves at first cause they don’t want anyone to intervene or talk about their connection since they want no attention drawn to them or know about their weakness. But many around them guess it, even if they don’t show it openly.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Since it will happen during the apocalypse, I guess it will be pretty simple, cause Alex isn’t the girl needing all the romantic shit to be convinced. Judging their short temper it could also happen during emotional sex when Shane simply says “marry me” cause he hopes she won’t say no when they are both highly emotional aroused. Alex would probably think he’s just making a joke and tease him for it but when they lay in each other’s arms in exhaustion she will probably ask him if he was serious before and he would say yes, then she would say yes too but then they wouldn’t talk about it for a while, making Alex think he forgot about it and not bring it up again. Shane would probably search for rings on a raid or find some at the CRM or craft something when they get Trixie back and then make it official with a knee fall.

if they adopt any pets together

Alex absolutely adores pets, especially cats and dogs but it’s probably very difficult to adopt pets in an apocalypse, so they rather enjoy to have stray cats or dogs around which get attached and maybe stay with them.

who’s more dominant

They both are, especially in fights and during sex, but Shane is actually the only person making it able for Alex to let her walls down and then she can get very subduing for him, if he allows it and she trusts him enough again.

where their first kiss was and what it was like

It was beneath the bleachers after Shane’s football training one day after their first date. They were talking about how they ran away last night, how much they enjoyed it and then Shane used the chance to kiss her with his hand on her chin to break their embarrassed silence. Alex said “We should do that again. You know, swimming. Spending time together.” but wasn’t able to look at him properly with her shy smile while he only responded “I’d like that. Do you want that?” And Alex nodded and said “I’d like that.” staring at him with her big brown eyes and somehow it was like a sign for Shane to kiss her so her insecurities about his interest stop. Alex hold onto his shirt and raised on her toes, feeling like a prom queen cause everyone around them was looking at them. She loved how he simply didn’t care about the talking around them, while she just felt endlessly proud that he was kissing her so openly. Since then she always loved the smell of his sports clothes and the dressing rooms cause it reminded her of this moment. It also was the beginning of her growing confidence after she felt invisible for such a long time.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

Alex tried to give him matching keychains in the past, but back then it didn’t seem like he enjoyed these things and that’s why she stopped. Nowadays they both don’t need such things cause they consider their relationship as something sacred they wanna protect and keep to themselves so they don’t like these couple things. As long as they know they are together, no one else has to know and they rather show it each other with affection, not with things usual couples do.

how into pda they are

In Highschool they were very open about it cause it was connected with pride for both of them to let everyone know. Now they keep their affection to themselves, but since they both have a high sexual chemistry, it happens often enough that they have sex outside or in more or less risky situations where they could be caught. They like this kind of danger and wouldn’t be able to hold back anyways, but they aren’t openly holding hands or kissing each other in front of others.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

Shane cause he is taller

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

In Highschool it was the lake where their first date was and the forest which had a kissing booth station on “the lovers rock” on a hill where you could watch the city. In the apocalypse everywhere is a possible date spot, but they usually prefer to be just at their house in front of a fireplace where they could be alone and together.

who’s more protective

Shane, because he still feels like he has to make something up for the past.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

They shared a bed pretty early after first meeting, cause whenever there was a party back then, most of the guests slept all in one house cause they got drunk or didn’t have a drivers license. Shane told Alex and her girls back then to take the bed of the boy who offered the house of his parents cause he didn’t want the girls to sleep on the floor and Alex didn’t notice that Shane stared at her from the floor the whole night while she slept safe and sound at the edge of the bed with four others girls next to her. The first sex happened a few weeks after they started dating in the back of Shane’s car.

if they argue about anything

They argue a lot cause they both are short tempered and stubborn. Somehow they need to let some steam off and know they can do it best with each other without the other taking it too personally and secretly they like the fire that often leads them into rough sex. Sometimes one of them goes too far and brings up old mistakes, but mostly it’s not very serious and more a habit.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Alex (she wants everyone to see he’s taken and likes to mark her territory), but just because Shane respects her too much and is too scared to do something wrong that he holds himself back. But if she tells him it’s okay, he would leave marks as well.

who steals whose clothes and how often

Alex steals Shane’s clothes cause hers are way too feminine and small 😂 but Shane would surely keep a Negligé or pantie from her to have her smell around 👀

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

However they wish. Sometimes they playfully tackle each other and Alex curls herself together on his chest like a cat. Sometimes they just stare at each other in admiration or after a fight without saying a word and when they want to sleep, Shane either cradles her head under his chin or spoons her.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

Alex likes to read to him when they cuddle on a rainy day but they also love to share a wine or whiskey in front of the fire place and talk about the past or how everyone in this world is stupid besides them. They laugh together a lot ♥︎ and of course they like swimming, like back then on their first date.

how long they stay mad at each other

Well, Alex was mad at him for years for leaving her, but after their reunion they don’t stay mad for longer than a day cause they are very conscious about the fact that they could die every day and don’t wanna separate in a fight. Never again.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

They both like coffee “black like their soul” and often order it exactly with saying that simultaneously. But Alex learnt to craft tea from herbs in the wild and that’s why she has a favor for homemade herbal teas she forces Shane to try.

if they ever have any children together

Alex already has a daughter called Trixie and after finding her Shane loves her like his own. They probably always claimed that they don’t want children together especially in the apocalypse, but if they manage to settle down somewhere safe and Alex sees how lovely Shane is with Trixie, I guess she would bring it up one day. Or maybe Shane will because he’s jealous of not being the father and wants to experience how it feels, since he wants many things with Alex he never imagined before.

if they have any special pet names for each other

Alex calls him teasingly “asshole” a lot, but she also uses the word “babe” and “darling”. Shane uses “baby”, “sweetheart” or darling, but sometimes teases her with saying “princess” when she acts bossy around him.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

They split up after Highschool already so when they decide to be together again, they will definitely not go through that another time and stay together whatever it costs.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

They both are kinda messy when it comes to clothes, which often happens when they start jumping each other and leave trails of clothes everywhere. Decor is not really a thing in the apocalypse and they both don’t care about that much anyways after living on the road for so long. Alex is only very clean in the kitchen cause she leaves a mess when she crafts tea and doesn’t want it to interfere with the normal cooking supplies which are rare in the apocalypse.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Their first Christmas as a secret couple was in Alexandria. No one knew they are together, they were only known as the lone wolfs who didn’t attend the Christmas celebrations in the little chapel or the family dinners in their houses, so no one wondered that they stayed together in their house the whole day. They ate self made cookies from Carol, gossiped about how silly these Christmas celebrations were and in the end had a classic Christmas dinner, self made presents and cuddled in front of the chimney chatting about the past and Trixie until Alex read a Christmas story to him. After all they celebrated Christmas like a real family, exactly like everyone they gossiped about before.

what their names are in each other’s phones

Shane saved her under “Lex” while Alex saved him under “S the Ass” 👀 but they don’t have phones anymore in the apocalypse anyways.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They always go on raids together and swim in the lake at night when everyone else is asleep. Also Shane watches Alex crafting her tea and makes fun of the mess she leaves behind. And whenever they find the time she reads to him before they go to sleep. There are no daily structures in the apocalypse, these traditions are more a habit they share as a couple.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Shane waits for Alex to fall asleep cause he feels protective about her but Alex will always wake first to prepare breakfast or wake Shane by sexual favors, unless she is still too exhausted from the last night.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Shane is definitely the big spoon cause he wants to protect her and he’s way taller than Alex.

who hogs the bathroom

Alex because of her long hair which needs a lot of treatment. Before the apocalypse she collected perfumes and all kind of scented oils, make up, candles and body lotions, but now the bathroom is rather empty, besides Shane finds enough perfumes on raids to stock up her non existent collection 👀 she loved to spend hours in the bathroom in the past for her make up and long baths, but since the fall of the world that’s rarely possible.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

Shane kills them and Alex would take them out cause she loves all kind of animals too much.

@wexarethewalkingxdead

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — One: Daymare

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.7k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 1 / 10

Warnings — swearing

A/N — This is going up a few hours earlier than I said previously, but I don’t care! Tuesday is the worst day of the week so I need to put out something good lol. Enjoy!

Previous — Next

"Find me... Find me... F—"

"—Oh, fuck me!"

Milo's temper tantrum draws you from your intense daydream. Jolting in your seat, breath ragged and heartbeat racing, you see your roommate throw a copy of her resume across the living room in a burst of rage.

"Fuck you," she points sharply at the paper, "fuck this, and fuck me!"

As Milo throws herself onto the couch, draping her forearm dramatically across her eyes, she heaves a heavy sigh and groans loudly.

"How are we supposed to have this much experience for an entry-level job, [Y/n]? We were lied to. I feel wronged. Can I sue?"

You shake your head, trying to push the daymare away from your mind. It's not the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, but somehow that man's face keeps coming back to you. Day and night, he's all you see when you close your eyes, almost like a memory...

You feign a smile as you reply, "Who are you gonna sue, Mi? You're the one that insisted on doing your resume yourself, after our internships."

Milo gestures extravagantly with her free hand, making shapes in the air with her fingers. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the professor who told us that we'd have enough to get a job overseas by the time we graduated? Maybe the damned school who never mentioned the fact that South Korean's are so damn particular? Maybe my mom who never forced me to continue speaking Korean or writing Hangul when I was a kid so that I had to basically re-learn every-fucking-thing?"

The highs and lows of her complaints cause a laugh to slip out as you turn your attention back to your own resume, a digital copy ready for edits on your laptop. "You're gonna sue your Mrs. Choi? Doesn't sound like a great idea. Besides, I like her too much. Her kimchi is to die for. And if you had already known Korean and Hangul, we may have never met!"

Your best friend nods once, accepting this fact as true. "Probably not. That semester in a foreign language really did solidify our nerdiness about South Korea." She jabs a finger in your direction. "But I have a one-up on you 'cause my grandparents were first-gen immigrants from Seoul. So ha!"

Raising your hands in mock defeat, you retort, "You win that one. I'm just an American."

"So sad." The brunette sits up with an excited expression, eyes wide as she crawls over to you on your side of the sofa. "How about my academic advisor, if you can even call the woman an advisor for rehashing my own questions back at me? She convinced me that I could get a job anywhere, with any degree. So what did I go with? Interior design! I can't find a single freakin' job in Seoul for that! Not that doesn't require, like, three years experience, a particular certification that I conveniently did not get, and a signed contract with the Evil Underlord Satan."

"I really don't think that's gonna work, but hey go ahead and try!"

Milo shoves your shoulder playfully, turning to the television to change it to the New Year's Rockin' Eve show that you'd been waiting to start. "You're the one that took ethics classes! I thought you'd be able to tell me if I had a case."

You scoff, "I took business ethics, not legal ethics! But I can agree with you partly. That woman was of no help. At all. Glad I wasn't stuck with her as an advisor since I was in the communications program."

"Yeah, I like to compare her to our house: a conventional ranch with no personality."

You burst into laughter, and Milo hops up from the sofa, an amused expression on her face. She tosses the remote in your direction. "Get the channel right. I can't find it. I wanna watch the ABC exclusive. Pretty sure we get that through YouTube TV."

You catch the remote with ease and turn to the menu. "You think I know how this thing works? I only use Netflix and Crunchy Roll."

"Just shut up and search, will ya?"

You roll your eyes and do as your roommate asks. "Why ABC? Isn't it easier to just stream it online?"

"Becauuuse BTS! They're gonna be performing in, like, ten minutes!"

"What's that again?" you tease.

"Okay, I am not dealing with you right now. Don't make me come over there and hit you with the champagne bottle."

The last two words catch your attention. You turn around, rest your arms on the back of the sofa, and give your best friend the biggest puppy-dog eyes you can manage. "Pour me a glass, Jagiya?"

Milo smirks at the Korean pet name and grabs the golden bottle from the refrigerator. "Get your ass over here so we can pop it and move on. I ain't waiting for midnight. We got shit to do before then, and I can't work on this job-seeking stuff for another damn second without some alcohol in me."

You squeal a tiny, "Yay!" before leaping over the back of the sofa and joining your roommate in the kitchen.

After the champagne is popped and poured, both of you return to your places on the sofa. You take a sip from your glass as Milo calls your favorite local pizza place to place an order.

"Pickup in fifteen, which is perfect! I don't wanna miss BTS," she giggles, pushing her champagne away. "No drinking and driving. I can wait until I get back."

"You're giving up champagne for this band?" you tut, swirling your glass to show off the drink. "You must really love these boys."

Milo narrows her dark eyes at you and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "You'll see."

Another sip and you turn back to your laptop, the noise of the New Year's Rockin' Eve in the background. "Mhm, sure."

You continue to work in relative quiet for the next five minutes until Milo breaks the peace with an elated screech, a sound that is more similar to that of an animal than a twenty-something woman.

"They're on!" She grabs your arm and shakes it vigorously. "Look at them!"

You stop your edits to your portfolio and turn to the television with a sigh. The crowd has started to go mad over the seven men currently trotting up the stairs and on to the stage. The singing has already begun, and you have to admit that their voices harmonized spectacularly together.

But there's one voice, in particular, that is so familiar to you. Despite being mixed in with the group, the lowest register has your eyes leaving your laptop screen and shifting to the television. You can't put your finger on it, but there's something so soft, so real, so warm about it.

The camera zeroes in on the seven men. All are dressed to the nines and look like they're having a blast while performing. So not only can they sing and dance—and, for some, rap—they're all stupid good looking, each in their own unique way.

As the first song comes to a close, and Milo sings the last verse at the top of her lungs, the camera pans to the man in the center. He delivers some of the last lines in a voice as soft and warm as the one you'd heard amongst the mass. Except, this time, he stands out.

But you recognize more than his voice; his appearance is familiar, too. Despite remaining in the background for most of the first song's performance, there's something about the man with the wavy black hair and similarly colored trench coat that calls to you. On an ordinary day, on any other day, you would wave it off as a simple attraction.

But this—this is different. You can't put your finger on how or why, but you know that you've met this person before.

Lightning strikes. You know where you've seen this face before. He's been in your dreams and nightmares, your daymares and daytime imagination. He's been all over your mind, consuming it for the past few months. You've always had this dream, ever since you were a child, but lately, those nightmares have been getting more frequent. This man might be a slightly younger version than the one that plagues your dreams, but it's the same person. You're sure of it. Every time you close your eyes, his face is the one you see.

Right before you both die.

The next song begins, and the dark-haired stranger is back at the front. For the remainder of their eight-minute time slot, your eyes are glued to the screen, unable to comprehend where this person came from. You have distinct memories of your mother consoling a three-year-old you after having these same night terrors. Surely, you could not have seen this person back then. It's unlikely you saw him at all, and certainly not as he is at the turn of the decade.

"Who's that?"

Milo follows your gesture, seeing the raven-haired man taking center stage once again. "That's Kim Taehyung! Pretty, isn't he?" She chuckles at your expression. "You have a bias already, damn that's impressive. I mean, I'm more of a Hoseok girl myself but..."

Your roommate's chatter fades away as your attention is once again drawn to the screen. The performance ends, and the show shifts to a different artist, all part of the New Year's Rockin' Eve circus.

"Welp, that was worth the wait, but  I'm gonna go pick up that pizza," Milo cheers, hopping to her feet. "Don't drink all the champagne before I get back!" 

You shake your head and wave to the brunette as she slips out the door. Turning back to your laptop, you open a new search bar and put in two words: Kim Taehyung.

Millions of results pop up, everything from Wikipedia articles to Koreaboo gossip posts and everything in between. The entire time Milo is gone, you spend online researching BTS' V. By the end of the half-hour, you've learned quite a bit about him—taking particular note that his birthday is just a few days after yours—and have stalked his social media.

A little farther down on the results, you see an ad for Big Hit Entertainment. The ad says that the company is looking for bi-lingual speakers, preferably English and Korean, to hire as a production assistant. Out of curiosity, you click on the link and are taken to Big Hit's site.

Milo returns with fanfare, holding the pizza in front of her like Simba the lion. "It's the cirrrcle of life!" she sings. "They were definitely talking about pizza when they wrote that line."

As she plops the box onto the kitchen counter, you make a sound of vague agreement. Milo asks you how many pieces you want, but you hardly hear her, eyes skimming the job posting over and over.

Is this a possibility? Is this something you're actually considering? Besides the fact that you just saw the add a few minutes ago, your reasons for applying are vague at best. Are you weighing the real options, or are you leaning into this particular job because it might lead you to answers? Or maybe give you an opportunity to meet this Kim Taehyung, maybe even ask him questions?

"Hello? Earth to [Y/n]!" Milo reaches over the back of the sofa to wave a hand in front of your face. Snapping you out of your stupor, your best friend laughs. "Damn, what are you reading? You're really out—wait...is that Big Hit? You found a job posting? What!"

Milo grabs your laptop and pulls it from your grasp. "Mi—"

She brings it over the back of the couch, placing it on the counter beside the pizza. Her brown eyes are wide and curious as she scrolls through the information. "Production assistant for Big Hit, in Seoul, for a bi-lingual speaker with no prior experience? Dude. This is the perfect job! Like, seriously, where did you find this?"

"On Google," you sigh, knowing that you're not going to get the laptop back until Milo relinquishes her control. You settle in on the stool beside her. "I was looking...for postings while you were gone. I stumbled across it."

Milo cocks an eyebrow and shows you your search history, terms which mostly consist of "BTS," "BTS V," and "Kim Taehyung."

"Mhm, suuure, we'll go with job postings."

You take the device from her with a playful scowl. "My point remains. This is exactly what I've been looking for. It says here that the job would be a lot of translation work, both in person and on documents. I'd also assist in the studio while recording or producing. And various other tasks, but I think it'd put my communications major to good use. It's a step in the right direction."

"You sure you just don't wanna see Taehyung-ssi?" she giggles.

A rising feeling of defensiveness comes over you as you close your laptop, moving to the sofa to retrieve your glass of champagne. "I just heard BTS for the first time tonight, Milo. I'm not about to pick my first post-college job and move half-way around the world for a boy I don't even know, let alone a K-pop boy."

"A cute K-pop boy, though." 

You return to her side, raising both eyebrows in an expression that says, "Really?"

Milo shrugs, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll let it go. Just an odd choice for you."

"Well, it's like we were saying earlier." You grab a piece of pizza from the box and shove the end into your mouth. "What'd we got t'lose?"

Milo makes a "close your mouth" gesture with her hand, grimacing at the sight. "Points were made. Fine, but maybe sleep on it? And this is me telling you to not be impulsive," she laughs towards the end. "But what the hell. If you go for it, I might have to find a job in Seoul sooner than I thought."

"I'm sure there are thousands of applicants," you grimace, the reality of the situation settling in. 

Milo grabs a slice for herself and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "And you're worth each and every one of 'em." After pressing a loud kiss to your temple, she slips from the bench and plops back down on the sofa. "C'mon! We got some balls to drop and resumes to edit."

Later that evening, or earlier the next morning, you're left cleaning up as Milo reclines on the sofa in a tipsy slumber. After the New Year rolls in, along with a brand new decade, you're left alone with your thoughts. 

Thoughts and several disposable dishes.

As you tidy up, you contemplate the options in front of you. Sure, you'd sent out several resumes to plenty of companies already. Some of which you'd heard absolutely nothing from, while others have let you know they'll get back to you about a possible interview. So far, nothing has been terribly promising.

So what' the harm in applying for the Big Hit job in Seoul?

The other half of your motivation slips into your sleepy mind. The person you've seen since childhood, could he really be Taehyung? Could you finally be so close to the answers? Why only one dream? Why him? Why so much blood and death?

Does he dream of you, too?

The laptop remains on the kitchen counter, and your fingers itch to open it up and send off your completed resume. This could lead to more than just a new job and a fresh start; this could lead to the answers you've been seeking ever since you were three years old.

A tiny voice inside you says, "Do it."

And, against your better judgment, you listen.