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spencerrreiddd · 1 day

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Three, Two, One.

Summary: You and Spencer have worked in the BAU together for years, since the beginning but now, he's your boss and something quite big is happening in your life & soon to be Spencer's life after needing each others help to unwind.

Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Cheating??

A/N: LOW & BEHOLD- here lays my first beauty. - my apologies is this is complete shit, I have not written in a while & I may have to get my special touch back. - anyways, i hope you guys like it ! 🔪🤍

three, two, one-

pregnant.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with your bosses baby.

Spencer has not always been your boss, you actually started working for the BAU a month before he had even started working there.

He took over Emily's position once she moved up to FBI Director a few months back, at that congratulations party is when something sparked between you and Spencer- just, neither of you acted on it

You remember exactly how and when it happened too, it was the party after his promotion to Unit Chief. Goddamn promotion parties. You didn’t think you drank that much, until you woke up naked beside your new boss.

The temptation to pack a bag and hop on a flight across the world sounded so appetizing right now in your mind, too bad that it isn't realistic & you were going to have to face the facts and that was including, him.

There was never any “no speaking of this” - only us meeting up at my apartment, his apartment, our hotel rooms when we were on a case and needed to ‘unwind’ - the last time you and Spence had even slept together was 2-3 weeks ago anyway, of course when y'all needed to unwind after a case. Who could've guessed that one?

You were snatched from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing from your bedroom- running for it, you were hoping that it wasn't Spencer.

‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’ 'thank the heavens' you silently think to yourself

“What’s up, Penny”

“Spencer is busy, he put me on duty to call you to find out if you plan to show your face at work today, ya know- since it is a work day and no show, no calls are frowned upon here" Your neck snaps to look at your alarm clock.

"Also, he wants to see you in his office once you get here"

7:32 A.M - have I seriously been staring at a positive pregnancy test for an entire hour?

“Fuck. See you soon. I'm leaving right now"

The short drive to work felt longer than it should have, probably because you took back roads to avoid having to see him again so soon. If you were already running late, what is a few extra minutes?

So many thoughts flying through your mind. How are you going to tell him? Oh hey, by the way, ya knocked me up so what’s the plan bud?!

“I'm doomed" You mutter to yourself getting out of your vehicle to go face reality, to go face the man of your now growing child. This has to be a nightmare.

Getting off of the elevator, the first person you saw was Alvez- boy, you were thankful that it wasn't Spencer, even though you'd be seeing him in just a few minutes.

"Looks like you saw a ghost"

"Yeah, Luke, something like that"

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, I just want to forget about it- I need to see Pen" yeah, Y/N, like you'll actually be able to forget about it.

You make a beeline directly for Penelope's office, you have to tell someone about this before you actually lose your mind.

"Pen, I have news and it has to stay between you and I only"

"Your secret is safe with me, my love"

"I'm pregnant.. with Spencer's baby" you hesitated even saying the last part but wow, that felt good to get off of your chest, too bad it won't feel this easy with Spencer. Just thinking of having to tell him has you feeling like someone is choking you out.

"Oh."

"Oh? Pen, I am in a state of panic, a state of shock and you say 'Oh'- I don't know what to even begin to do here or how to even tell Reid that I am carrying his.. spawn"

"Spencer has a girlfriend or did, as far as I kn- okay, when did you find out” She cuts herself after seeing the look of horror on your face after hearing the beginning of her sentence, understandably so!

You were NOT the type of person to sleep with a taken man.

You were confident that you were about to face plant the ground right here and now in Penelope’s office. Did Spencer have a girlfriend or not? And were you about to go physically fight him for doing this to her, if so? You would be considering yourself jobless at that point.

“I found out this morning, literal minutes before you called me to get my ass here” you were in a pure state of panic and you had many good reasons as to why.

“How long has he had a girlfriend, Pen?” you continued- you were sure your skin was blistering with how hot it was at this point. Was it hot out of anger or the panic attack that was charging at you? Who knows anymore because you didn’t care enough in this single second to sit and determine that.

"I don't know, he just mentioned a date a few weeks ago then didn't mention anything again but I know he's still in communication with her and by the contact name in his phone, I don't think they are just friends" Penelope lets you in on all of this, nervously- like she isn't supposed to be saying anything at all.

"Thanks, Pen" You murmur to her her as you leave, you have to leave her office, the longer you are in there, the more it feels like the walls are literally closing in on you.

Walking into the hallway, you don't know which direction to go- You should probably go see Spencer and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you were late.

It was barely 8 A.M, maybe it was past 8 A.M now- your mind is going too fast to try and keep up with time. Regardless, it's too early in the morning to drop a pregnancy announcement on someone.

Finally, you muster up the courage to walk into the bullpen to go on the hunt for Spencer, as much as your mind and body are telling you to just bolt to your car and never look back.

"Tara, do you know where Spencer is?" You ask quietly, so that you don't disturb the others around you

"No, I saw him walk out of his office a few minutes ago but I haven't seen him go back in. If you find him before me, let me know because I need to go over some things with him"

"I'll go knock and see if he's back, thanks Tara"

You can visibly see his blinds are closed but majority of the time they are closed anyways, so that doesn't even matter to you. Walking up the flight of stairs to get to his office is exhausting, it feels like your legs weigh 1000 pounds each.

Standing in front of his office, you hear talking inside- You can very clearly hear a females voice inside talking to him but you honestly couldn't tell if she was over the phone or actually in his office by how muffled it is, it's safe to assume that it is a phone call.

"No going back now since you're already here" You mumble to yourself

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in" You hear a muffled Spencer behind the door

As your opening the door, you quickly hear him state to the woman on the phone 'I have to go, I'll see you tonight' - God, as if you haven't already wanted to run away all morning, it keeps getting worse.

"Pen said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, please sit" He says, gesturing to the chair

"Are you okay, Y/N? - You were late this morning, we've worked together for many years now and you've never once ran late, it's not like you not to communicate" You can see on his face that he cares, he didn't bring you in here to give you a lecture over something small, especially since this is your first time ever running late.

"Y-yes, I just woke up late and then getting to my car, I realized I had a flat, so I had to ask my neighbor to use his pump to fill it" You lied straight through your pearly white teeth and you were confident that he knew it to, just by the look he was giving you

He stares at you for a moment, trying to read you for anything. You were thankful for the fact that sometimes you were an impossible person to read

"Please, just communicate next time- It's not a big deal you were late, we just didn't know what was going on until I had Garcia get a hold of you"

"I will, you have my word- Am I good to go now?" You ask while standing up, yes, the talk went better than expected but you still wanted out of this office as fast as possible.

"Yes, thank you for coming to talk to me. Oh, also before I forget to mention it, at some point today whenever we both have free time, I would like to have a conversation. If it's just at the end of the day that's fine. It just needs to happen"

All you can bring yourself to do is nod your head and walk out of the room, based on the ass end of the phone call you walked in on- You have a pretty good hunch what he will be saying to you, especially after what Garcia also let you in on

It makes your heart ache- knowing that he could have a girlfriend, knowing this thing that the two of you had will be coming to an end, by no means were you and Spencer in a committed relationship but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you hadn't gained feelings for him and actually wanted more than just a 'fuck buddy' outcome

"So, is he up in the office? I really need to see him" Tara asks while already walking up there and away from you before you can even give her an answer.

You know for a fact that you are not going to be able to focus on work at all today even if you try your hardest, your anxiety is skyrocketing through the roof waiting for this conversation with Spencer and still, wondering when and how you are going to spill the beans about carrying his growing child.

"Alright, what is your issue? Are you pregnant?" Alvez is like a brother to you, nothing has been off limits in the talking department but this just sent you for a whole loop with how bluntly he asked.

You were confident that if it were possible, your eyes would've popped right out of their sockets and into your lap.

"Alvez, I am not discussing this with you right now" you whisper yelled to him, you didn't mean to come off like a bitch at all but god only knows who could've heard him.

"Well, Y/N, If I am being entirely honest. Penelope lets some things slip from time to time" He states like it's the most obvious thing ever.

All you can seem to do is look at him like a dear in the headlights, you feel your skin getting hot and prickly, it feels like there are someones hands around your throat squeezing harder and harder by the second.

"I have to go, I need to go home, I need air" It all comes out in a panic, you get up from your desk and bolt out of the bullpen and down the stairs, you don't even care to take the elevator. You cannot be stuck in a tight spot right now, a tight spot like an elevator.

"Please, just communicate" - "I will, you have my word" the conversation in Spencer's office goes through your mind and you know that you have to communicate with him that you just left work for the day and you don't plan to come back today, atleast- you couldn't and thankfully, it was Friday.

to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'I have to excuse myself for the day, I'm sorry that I am having to send you a text message about this rather than coming to your office- this is me communicating with you. I will return back to my work duties on Monday, unless of course, a case pops up over the weekend then I will be here'

'also, I know we need to have a conversation, I also have something I need to tell you- let me know when you would like this conversation to take place' -

After sending your texts to Spencer, you set your phone on DND because at this point, you don't want to deal with anything or anyone else today, emergency or not.

Driving home was an entire blur, I mean you made it home alive, so that's what matters, I guess.

Walking inside, you plop onto the couch and turn on your favorite comfort show.. Modern Family.

A few hours later, you wake up in the exact place you laid down at- you thought your couch was so comfy until now when your entire body is in pain.. well, maybe it was your horrible sleeping position.

5:13 P.M -

"sweet baby jesus on a motorbike" You mutter to yourself after looking at the clock

"what are you doing to me?" You ask while poking your non-existent baby bump, granted it was a great sleep so you weren't trying to complain- you had heard from JJ in the past that early pregnancy is exhausting and you will sleep.. ALOT.

**BACK AT THE BAU**

"I just practically asked her if it was true but maybe in a more blunt way, it wasn't meant to come out so.. blunt" Alvez explains to Penelope who apparently watched you sprint out of work.

"I specifically told you not to say anything to her about it, I didn't even mean to let it slip to you of all people, Luke. I don't even think that they were in a relationship which makes this so much more difficult for her, as I could imagine" Pen snaps back at Luke.

"It's not going past me, I'm not opening my mouth to anyone about it" Luke says while walking to the Elevator with Pen, finally the work day was over

"Yeah, you let it slip to someone or who knows, I accidentally do again and Spencer is going to find out which right now, that doesn't need to happen" Pen states while being wildly unaware of who just came up behind them

"What doesn't Spencer need to find out right now and why can't he find out right now?" He asks from directly behind Alvez and Garcia, looking between the two of them for a answer.

Luke and Penelope both seem to jump straight out of their skin, not expecting to be crept up on- in reality, it was not Spencer's plan to creep up on them, he just happened to be leaving at the exact time as them and they didn't hear him coming up in the middle of their 'supposed to be' private conversation that was happening out in the open.

"I- uh it's nothing, well, sir, it's nothing in regards to me, i'm fine- it's not my place to tell you, it wasn't my place to tell, Luke- it just slipped and I am blabbering and I just realized that I need to get home" Before Spencer or Luke could say anything to her or anything more to Spencer, she's in the elevator with the doors closing.

'Nice Penelope, real nice' Luke thinks to himself, feeling a bit annoyed and slightly scared

Turning to look behind him, he sees Spencer's eyes boring right into him like he's staring right into Luke's soul, just waiting and searching for answers.

"Is there anything that you know, Alvez?" Spencer finally breaks the silence, otherwise who knows how long the two of them would've stayed standing there in the awkward paralyzing silence.

"I just know Y/N had to leave early today because, well I don't know why but I just know she left- you're her boss too, she should've communicated with you, right?"

"Right, Luke and she did, I have been trying to text and call her since I received her messages and nothing is going through" Reid is quick to bite back, getting quite annoyed himself being left in the dark and now that he is adding the pieces together, he's assuming these secretive things that "he isn't allowed to know about currently" are about you.

"I don't have any other information, what I told you is all I know- but I do need to get home to Roxy" Luke matter-of-factly states even though Luke knows that Luke is lying, well- not about Roxy but about the first part.

"Mhm, alright. Have a good night, Luke" Spencer gave up on trying to get any information out of the turnips that don't bleed but he is confident when he says this is about you and he will get to the bottom of it.

Back at your apartment, you've finally relaxed after a nice hot shower and ordering from your favorite chinese food joint and yes, still watching your comfort show but this time from the comfort of your own bed.

You still haven't even taken your phone off of DND mode, in your mind all you thought was 'if it is important enough, you know where I live and if you don't, contact Penelope Garcia' and the most important part, you were at peace.

You weren't worried about this pregnancy, you had accepted your fate, you weren't worried about Spencer or his new situ-relationship, you weren't even worried about what had happened with Alvez or Garcia. Peace.

"jesus Spencer, what the fuck" You yell out after walking out of the room and coming face to face with him, to say that you were startled was to say the absolute least

"Well, you would've known I was coming if someone didn't have their phone on airplane mode" He bit back with a darkness in his eyes and maybe a bit of worrisome, you couldn't tell everything with how dark it was.

"I know that I gave people a key to my house for emergencies but our conversation or how I was protecting my peace on a Friday night is not an emergency and frankly, if anyone was that worried, you would've sent someone sooner" You were once again fed up and wanted to continue to be alone with your favorite person, Phil Dunphy.

"I was going to drop our conversation until this weekend or even Monday, when we see each other in person again but funny enough, I was walking out to leave for the day when I walked into Luke's and Penelope's conversation and it was about you and something that I shouldn't be finding out about right now- would you happen to know anything about that?" Spencer replied, getting more and more fed up by the second.

If Spencer didn't know any better, he would say that you looked like you just saw a ghost- he was dead on the money about the conversation and some secret rooting back to you- now to just get it out of you.

Calming down after seeing the state you were rushing into, he comes to you with a softer approach - "Y/N, I want to help you. We've known each other for years, since I started working for the BAU, please let me know. Let me know what is going on. I'm not going anywhere"

You felt like you were about to up-chuck your chinese food all over this poor man, you know you need to tell him.

'Y/N you will never know the outcome of this unless you open your mouth and spill those words to him, be brave, be bold' You think silently to yourself.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby"

if this is horrible, sue me - i haven't written in forever and honestly, this is a little bit longer than i thought it would be - whoops!

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

& yeah, yeah- i left this on a cliffhanger, if you beautiful humans actually like this, i had planned to make this a 2 parter story or who knows, if i make the next part longer then it could be 3 or more parts.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds gif #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #luke alvez #penelope garcia #emily prentiss

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cherriegyuu · 3 days

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so high school | kmg | part 2

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 7.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here warnings: reader is mentioned to have long hair, mentions of food and alcohol please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part one >

It had taken you almost two entire weeks to work up the courage to talk to Mingyu again. He had been nice enough not to contact you first. No texts, no calls, and the two times you had bumped into him on campus — aka seen him across the street — he had nodded in greeting, but made no attempt to get closer.

You hated it, admittedly, but you had missed his presence. The annoying texts at inappropriate times, the way he would wave his arm above his head every time he saw you, like he was a kid seeing a friend after a long vacation.

You had no idea how to talk to him. You couldn’t just say haha, I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, even though I saw you every day for two years, you know how it is, right? without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic. And you didn’t even need Jeonghan to pull out his school photo album, which he absolutely did, to rub in your face how completely forgetful you were. The moment Mingyu said the words “she doesn’t remember me”, laughing a little, a somewhat embarrassed by the situation, it was as if the movie of your adolescence suddenly flashed through your eyes.

Every time you had seen him leave the gym, following Jeonghan and Seungcheol closely. At first, he was quiet, just observing everything and later talking to your brother only, and then he was laughing and making jokes along with everyone else. He was obviously loved by his teammates. You remember finding him handsome back then when he was much younger and wore clothes chosen by his mother. You never talked, it’s true, you didn’t even know his name, but you always knew who he was.

How you went from that moment to years later not remembering him, you didn’t know. That was a big mystery, and you had no idea how to answer.

You saw Mingyu leaving the building next to a girl. He smiled and gestured as he talked, clearly excited about the subject at hand. The girl next to him smiled broadly, her body leaning closer to his, despite the clear space between the two of them. She looked at Mingyu as if he had nailed the stars to the sky, as if he was the only reason the sun shone every morning.

You thought about giving up. You were going to interrupt something and you didn't want that, didn't want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, anything more than necessary.

And then Mingyu looked straight ahead, right in your direction. You closed your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to do exactly what you had planned to do from the beginning. Slowly, you raised your right hand in front of your body, at the height of your stomach, and waved. It was a quick and shy movement that you almost didn't want to do.

The smile on Mingyu's face grew huge as if he had seen something that had truly made him happy. He held his arm over his head, swinging it from side to side like a child; you couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across your lips, no matter how hard you tried.

Mingyu strode across the lawn, the girl he was talking to was left behind, forgotten, calling out his name loudly, but he didn't look back once. She glared at you and you knew, at that very moment, that if you didn't have a single enemy in your life, you had just made one.

He stopped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face. It took everything you had to do not to stare at his arms or to keep smiling.

"Look, who's talking to me, in public" the teasing was clear in his voice.

"Mingyu" his name came out of your mouth like a warning.

Even though your tone didn't seem friendly, Mingyu smiled as if having heard a joke. It was almost a losing battle, not smiling while looking at him. You wondered exactly how things had changed, how one day you said "I don’t want to be seen with athletes in public places" to suddenly "talking to an athlete in public and still smiling".

“Sorry.”

Although he was apologizing, you knew that there wasn’t a single bone, or cell, in Mingyu’s body that felt sorry while he was teasing you.

“I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t remember you.”

That’s why you had looked for him, why you had put all your pride aside and sent a message to Seokmin, asking — in the most delicate and unsuspicious way you could imagine — what Mingyu’s last class of the day was. When he seemed too excited about the whole situation, you didn’t even know that someone could be so excited through message, you were forced to ask him not to tell Mingyu that you had contacted him, because you still didn’t know if you would meet him because you had another appointment at almost the same time and might be late. It was a lie, there was nothing, but you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin to simply not tell him.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I don’t remember someone I’ve seen every day for years either.”

You smiled, unable to control it this time, and Mingyu smiled along with you as he took another step closer to you. You knew he was too close, rumors would start spreading around campus any second. You knew you should take a step back, and put more space between you two, you knew you should stop smiling like a teenager. But you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything but stand there.

“You’re making me feel even worse.”

“Seriously, it’s okay. I’m not going to use it to blackmail you or anything like that.”

You wanted to ask him what he could blackmail you with, but that was too close to the line of flirting, and that was an imaginary line you refused to cross with him — even though most of the ones you had set had already been crossed, one by one.

“Thank you,” was all you allowed yourself to say.

He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

“Now that you know you’ve been unfair to me, for years I might add, and I’ve been benevolent enough to forgive your mistake, could you please stop making my life difficult and let me do the assignment with you, without me having to beg?”

You threw your head back, laughing out loud. You wanted to tease him, tell him that he was already begging and pleading, but again, too close to flirting.

“Benevolent? Ah, a man’s ego.” was all you allowed yourself to say as you rolled your eyes at him.

Mingyu smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours.

“Come on, cut me some slack”

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes again.

“Let’s coordinate our free time and meet up again.”

“Great.”

“A little green bird told me,” you rolled your eyes before Kira could even continue the sentence, “that you were caught with a certain hockey player.”

“Oh, for the love of God.”

Kira had hooked her arm through yours, her voice cheerful. If voices could have shape and were visible to the naked eye, Kira’s would definitely be bouncing around you. She was almost doing it herself.

You knew someone would have seen you talking, you knew someone saw it and wasn’t happy about it at all, you were sure it was only a matter of time until people were talking about it. You just didn’t think it would be so fast. It had barely been five minutes since you had said goodbye to Mingyu, you knew that that gossip was an inherent part of student life, but the quality and speed were impressive.

“Oh, come on! Tell me what you two talked about, I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail.”

Your friend’s voice was soft, almost like a child whining next to you. Kira knew how much you hated it, more than that, she knew that you would tell her everything, every word, just so that she would finally stop making that pitiful face and that shrilling and completely irritating voice.

“We talked about what I talked about with you,” you sighed, “I apologized for not remembering him, he was annoying and in the end we agreed that I wouldn’t stop him from doing the assignment with me.”

“The little green bird also told me that you were smiling and that you were even blushing while you were talking to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. It was true that you had smiled while you were talking to him, you had given up on playing tough. But you were sure that you hadn’t blushed or embarrassed.

“That little bird of yours is wrong. I smiled, yes, but the rest I didn’t do”

“So you didn’t make out in the middle of campus? You didn’t laugh out loud, the kind that makes you throw your head back and close your eyes?”

You simply stared at her, standing in the same place, refusing to move an inch. The student's gossip was fast, impressive, and deceitful.

“Some guy saw you guys and told everyone about it. I was walking by and heard it. They weren’t exactly talking quietly.”

You nodded and started to walk again. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you didn’t want to stay either. Even if it wasn’t true, you felt like everyone was staring right at you, like you were a circus attraction in the center of the red and white tent.

“Nothing happened. We talked, I smiled, he said something funny and I laughed. That was it.”

It was a little strange that everyone was at your house at the same time. By everyone, you mean Mingyu and Seokmin, who were there to continue the project, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol, the first because it was his house and the second for god knows what — your best bet was that he had come there to see Mingyu, but he could also simply have wanted to see you embarrassed, it was almost like it was his and Jeonghan's favorite pastime.

You hadn't bothered to tell Jeonghan that the two of them were going home with you after class, you were sure that if you had told him and asked him not to be there, he would simply ignore your request. Besides, the rabbit was out of the hat already, there was nothing left to hide. Seungcheol being there was a surprise, but Mingyu knew him too and you figured he had told Seokmin everything.

Seokmin's behavior was surprising. He had greeted Jeonghan and Seungcheol when he came in, chatted with them for a bit, and then sat down at the table with you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had scolded him and just how harsh he had been — though you didn’t think Mingyu and harsh were words that went together.

“Sorry about the other day,” Seokmin said. “I was just surprised.”

You shook your head. You had thought a lot about that day, about how you would have reacted in a very similar way if you had run into someone you were a fan of like that, at someone’s house from college. You had been taken by surprise, and that was one of the things you hated the most. You liked to have everything under control, to have all the cards in your hands, to know all the information before actually getting into a situation. You had made a bet by taking Mingyu and Seokmin home, and you lost. That had nothing to do with Seokmin.

“If I were his fan, I would have reacted the same way,” you assured him, not liking that he had become so quiet and introverted. “And look, they love the attention, so you can go as crazy as you want, you have my approval. And if they complain, you can talk to me.”

Seokmin laughed and turned his attention back to the book open in front of him, reading carefully and taking notes in the notebook next to it.

It wasn’t long before Mingyu entered the room too, still laughing a little at whatever he had talked to Jeonghan and Seungcheol about. He seemed distracted as he sat down and took his cell phone out of his pocket, placing it on the table, face down after checking the notifications.

It was impossible not to think about the conversation you had with Kira days ago, the fact that suddenly the entire college believed that you had hooked up because you had only talked for a few minutes. Could it have been gossip that had spread uncontrollably and thus taken on traits that had nothing to do with reality, or had Mingyu, in all his stereotype of dumb athlete and famous for being a womanizer, spread lies around, bragging about something that hadn't happened?

You hoped it wasn't the second option, not when hating someone for simply existing was just so much work, not when you had started to think he was a cool guy, not when every time you got a message from him you felt like an excited teenager seeing signs where there was supposed to be only a black screen.

"There's something I want to know," the voice came from the living room, distant at first, but getting closer with each syllable.

You were sure that this sudden approach from Seungcheol couldn't bring anything good. Especially when he had a cocky smile on his lips, the kind that you knew, just by looking at him, that he was not going to do anything worth of noticing and at any second someone was going to be embarrassed. And, in this case, you were sure that someone would be you.

Jeonghan was right behind him, his eyes showing that he didn’t know what it was about, but seemingly enjoying the whole situation.

“Seungcheol,” his name came out of your lips in a mix of warning and plea.

“When we were in school, you,” he stopped behind Mingyu, his hands on the younger’s shoulders as he leaned forward, “had the biggest crush on our dear youngest Yoon”

You closed your eyes and wished that someone, anything, would hit Seungcheol in the head with all its strength, to the point he would faint and no longer be able to open his mouth to say a bunch of nonsense.

You turned to Jeonghan, who seemed confused by the whole situation — having been completely taken by surprise by Seungcheol's revelations. His eyes went from you, to Mingyu, to Seungcheol, and back to Mingyu.

Mingyu was pale as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his hands frozen in front of his body. The pen that was spinning between his fingers had rolled across the table and stopped in front of Seokmin, who was looking at the situation in complete shock.

“Do you still have a crush on her or is that a thing of the past?”

“Oh for the love of god, Seungcheol, shut up.”

Even Jeonghan, who loved a joke, a tease to the very last second, was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't know where to put his hands or who to look at. Mingyu seemed to want to sink into his chair. Seokmin had his chin glued to his chest, his eyes completely focused on the open book.

“Dude”

Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol on the head, who was just laughing at the situation as if everything was a big joke to him and probably it really was. The only problem was that no one was laughing with him.

“That's a valid question! I'm sure you're curious too”

You pushed the chair you were sitting in back hard, the friction of the metal on the floor probably leaving marks that would be there forever.

“Seriously, what's your problem?”

You grabbed the hood of Seungcheol's coat and pulled him out of the room, while he complained and made a fuss.

“You're strangling me!”

You rolled your eyes.

“At least you'll stop talking shit”

You stopped only when you were close to the door and could reach the doorknob with your free hand.

“It’s just a joke!” he tried to defend himself.

“You don’t have the right to come to my house and embarrass my friends, so if you don’t know how to behave, you can leave.”

You turned your back to him for a second, just long enough to grab his bag from the couch and throw it into his arms.

“You can’t kick me out, it’s not even your house.”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Jeonghan?” you said without turning to look at your brother, your eyes never leaving Seungcheol.

“It’s her house, yeah.”

You raised your eyesbrows at him, mimicking him.

“See? Great, you can go now.”

Needless to say, the rest of the night had been pretty close to a funeral. Jeonghan had holed up in his room and you suspected he was either asleep or dead, because he hadn't made a single sound and hadn't come out for anything.

Mingyu didn't even dare to look at you, much less talk with you. A night that was already embarrassing enough because you still had college rumors swimming around in your brain had gotten even worse because, at some point during the night, Seungcheol had decided, in a not-so-casual way, to drop the bomb that Mingyu had a crush on you.

And no matter how much you thought about it, how many ways you tried to analyze and remember those years, it didn't make sense.

You were sure you had never spoken to Mingyu, that you hadn't spoken directly to him before. The first time you talked was a few weeks before, in college. Even if you didn't remember him, you were certain you hadn't of it. You always made a point of staying away from Jeonghan's teammates, your brother made a point of keeping them away too.

That old story, when one doesn't want to, two don't fight. And in this case, neither you nor Jeonghan had any interest in you getting closer to his teammates.

In your head, it didn't make sense. Seungcheol was just talking a bunch of nonsense because he could, because he knew you never had the urge to argue with him. With Jeonghan? Silly arguments were normal, you sent your brother to hell as easily as you fell asleep after a long day. But not with Seungcheol, because you knew he loved the fights, he had fun, you always chose to just let him talk until he got tired. It was one thing to tease you and another one, entirely too different, to do it with your friends.

Logically, you knew that at some point in the past Mingyu had been friends with him too, but you also knew that that friendship had died the moment Seungcheol graduated from school.

Seokmin was the only one who dared to say something, completely focused on the assignment, but it was obvious that he was trying to break the ice of the situation. Trying and failing.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Seokmin said as soon as he heard the sound of a door coming down the hallway and a second later Jeonghan walked towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s kinda late” Mingyu agreed and stood up.

There was no way to disagree with them, it was late and the mood had gone down the drain. Prolonging the situation would almost be a form of torture for the three of you.

“Sorry about Seungcheol”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands. You wished you had pockets so you could have somewhere to hide them, but the leggings and shirt you were wearing didn’t provide any hiding spots.

“It’s okay, really” Mingyu assured you “He’s always been like this”

Seokmin went into the living room, but you and Mingyu remained standing there, barely breathing. You wanted to ask if it was true, if he really had a crush on you, or if Seungcheol was just trying to annoy someone and chose Mingyu. You also didn't understand what he had said, about Seungcheol “always being like this”. Did he mean annoying or someone who teased his friends with embarrassing secrets? Either answer would be correct but you wanted to hear it from him.

You wanted to ask, but you didn't have the courage. If it was true, it was bad and if it was a lie, it was worse. If it was true, you would feel even worse for not remembering him right away. If it was a lie, it would be bad you had liked to hear, when you knew you shouldn't care.

“I don't know if it's a good time,” he said, “but there's a game on Friday. You could go and take Kira with you.”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish speaking.

“It can’t, I already have a thing already”

“Oh, okay” he nodded and turned to the living room. “Bye, Jeonghan.”

Your brother appeared in the living room, putting his phone in his pocket, but looking like he had heard the entire conversation between you and Mingyu.

“Bye.”

You closed the door when you saw Mingyu and Seokmin enter the elevator. You were ready to hide in your room and try, even if it was impossible, to understand what had happened that night, but of course, Jeonghan had other plans. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, an inquisitive look on his face.

“Don’t start,” you warned.

Everything that had happened, not only that night but also during the week, had simply been too much for you. You had just gotten used to the idea of having Mingyu around, you had started to like having him around. But then everything happened so fast. A laugh on the sidewalk had become an unbridled make-out, a smile a declaration of love.

The rumors had gotten worse since that first day. Kira talked about them carefully, mainly because she knew you didn't want to be associated with athletes in any way, but she never failed to tell you anything about what was going on. That's only you begged her to tell you, otherwise it would be like in those cliché movies, the girl walking down the hallway and discovering all the rumors that were going around about her because she overheard someone's conversation.

And it wasn't like you hadn't gotten stares in the hallways, but the truth is that you had gotten used to them when you were still a teenager. Getting into that same skin of an apathetic, uncaring person was pretty easy.

"Why didn't you accept going to his game? You like it. It would have been fun”

And on top of that, as the cherry on the cake, because of course life couldn't just make things a little easier for you, there was that whole shit show from a few hours before. Even though you hated the situation with a passion, you knew there was some truth to it. At that moment, you felt, once again, as if you were still 15 years old, sitting in the living room at home, enduring whatever nonsense Seungcheol decided to say.

Seungcheol was the kind of guy who made jokes out of real situations. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of Jeonghan. Your brother came up with impossible situations, bordering on insanity, and spoke about them with such conviction that you felt compelled to believe him. Seungcheol, on the other hand, took small facts and distorted them, or just exaggerated them in some way.

At that moment, sitting at that table, watching Mingyu's face become completely devoid of any color, you knew it was true. Maybe, yes, an exaggerated version of the truth, but a truth nonetheless.

“Jeonghan, it's just… I can’t”

You walked past him. That scene was too familiar and despite the theme of the conversation being different, you didn't want to have to go through the same situation again.

“Because of me?”

“Because of him.”

You hated seeing that look on Jeonghan’s face like he blamed himself for everything that was wrong with you. Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Apparently, you had brother issues.

“You know, one day I hope you stop caring so much about what people think, because you’re barely living your life right now, hoping that someone, someday, won’t care.”

Jeonghan's words floated through your mind for days. You found yourself standing in the middle of the campus several times, analyzing the people who were walking from one side to the other, some in a hurry, others talking to each other, many too distracted with phones in their hands to pay attention to what was happening around them.

None of them, no matter how much part of your brain said otherwise, seemed to care about you.

Even though you had been the main topic of conversation for a few days, everything changed when someone on the football team got drunk enough to kneel on a bar table crying, declaring his undying love to a girlfriend from elementary school. You had hidden yourself for so long, away from everything that you considered to be a problem, that you had forgotten how things worked.

No one really cared — no one might be a little too much to say, but very few people looked at you and cared about what was happening. It was much easier to understand the situation than to start acting differently, but you hoped it was a start, however small it was.

Your phone started to vibrate in your hand, a second later the screen lit up, and the word mom flashed on the screen. You knew what she wanted. You had been avoiding her calls and messages for a couple days. But you knew you couldn't pretend you were in class anymore, come up with some lame excuse to ignore her. She had even called Jeonghan and asked, or rather ordered, him to tell you to call her. You had avoided it as much as possible.

“Hi, mom”

“Ah, you finally remembered you have a mom”

You could imagine the exact scene: your mother walking back and forth, her hair tied into a low ponytail, gesturing before dropping her hand and slapping her thigh. You couldn't help but smile when you heard the clear sound of footsteps, followed by a slap.

“Sorry, I've been busy. You know how it is.”

“I can always talk to your brother just fine”

You knew she didn’t mean anything, you knew it wasn’t a comparison — at least not a conscious one — but the sentence was received with a sting anyway.

“That’s because Jeonghan has a schedule for literally everything. I study until I nearly blackout or my brain turns to pudding, which ever comes first.”

You walked to nearest bench and sat down with a sigh.

“Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? You and your brother are terrible cooks, and I know he eats at the club most of the time, but what about you? I can come by every week and bring you food, it’s not a problem.”

She kept talking nonstop, you were sure she was already making a list of everything she needed to make enough food for a week.

“Mom!” you said loudly, loud enough for the girl next to you, who had headphones on, to look at you. You smiled awkwardly, lowering your head a little in apology. “Mom, we’re fine. We learned how to cook enough to survive.”

“Noodles are not a real meal.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We have vegetables, rice, and meat at home, Mom. I went shopping yesterday,” you said before she could say anything.

“One of these days I’ll show up and surprise you.”

“And on that day, you’ll find the fridge full and food ready,” you said jokingly.

You were silent for a few seconds, until she spoke again, this time her tone much more cautious.

“I know you don’t like it very much, that you’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than participating in this, but just this year, couldn’t you consider going to the hospital gala? I know it’s the middle of the semester, that you have a lot of things to do, that you’re looking for an internship, but it’s just one night and…”

Even with all the differences you had with your mother, you didn’t like seeing — in this case, hearing — her begging for anything, much less for your presence at an event that you knew was important to the family. Ever since you started refusing to go to it, your mother never forced you to go. She insisted a little on the first year and asked if you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. But never like that. For whatever reason, she wanted you at the party, and by extension, you knew your father did too.

“I’ll go, Mom. I’m going to buy a dress tomorrow.”

Despite the distance, you knew your mother’s breath had caught in her throat, that she was trying her best to control herself. She liked parties and glamor and she liked it even more when you attended. And you liked it too, until… until you decided to avoid it.

You had to start somewhere, this whole thing of not caring what people thought. It was best to start somewhere at least somewhat familiar, right?

“I… set… I have…” she cleared her throat and began again “I made hair and makeup appointments for me. You want me to schedule it for you too?”

Her voice was almost shaking, making you feel even worse. Had you alienated yourself from mother to the point where she was shaking just because you agreed to go to a party?

“Could you make an appointment for a manicure too? I need to get my nails done.”

He walked into the room, adjusting his tie around his neck, laughing at whatever his sister had said, hating the feeling of being suffocated. He wanted, almost desperately, to take off the damn tie, but he knew better than to. His sister would laugh at the situation, but his parents, especially his father, would not be happy about it. It's not like he disliked the event itself, but he hated having to pretend. Pretending that he and his parents got along well and that the smiles they gave when someone complimented Mingyu were genuine.

It was all completely and utterly fake.

The truth was that Mingyu barely spoke to his parents. He didn't know when was the last time he had talked to them, just to talk. He didn't know what it was like to ask if everything was okay just because he cared. He didn't know what it was like to send a picture of a place, or anything, to his mom because he could, because he wanted to like he always saw Seokmin do.

He always tried his best to keep his distance. Maybe being so far away from his parents wouldn't make him feel like a complete failure every time he thought about them. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, he knew he wasn't a failure, but he was a disappointment to his parents. So he kept his distance, it was easier.

He still attended events like that to keep up appearances, that was an important thing to them. Not having received support, affection, or love from his parents since he was 17? Insignificant compared to the need to maintain the idea of a united and happy family in front of their friends.

In the end, he didn't mind going to events like that, supposedly for charity. He liked seeing his sister and deep down he liked seeing his parents' friends praising him and saying how amazing it was that he had a career completely independent of his parents and even without their help.

Mingyu liked to think that his father had opened up about not having helped him at all in an attempt to seem tough and smarter than his son, but that only made him seem bitter every time his career as an athlete was the subject of conversation. Besides, he could see his school friends again. So it was a win-win situation: his parents kept up appearances and he had fun reminiscing about his school days as if it had been 20 years instead of just 3.

“If you keep pulling that tie, it’ll rip,” his sister said, laughing as she forced Mingyu’s hand down.

“It’s suffocating”

“Oh, you poor baby,” she pouted mockingly at Mingyu.

Mingyu shook his head and turned to the rest of the room, looking for a familiar face. He quickly found Jeonghan and Seungcheol but decided not to approach them as he normally would. If it had been last year’s party, Mingyu would have talked to them both, but this time he chose to stay in the same place.

That night at Jeonghan’s house still left a bitter taste in Mingyu’s mouth. He had a plan, which might not have worked — that probably wouldn’t have worked — but if one day you found out about his teenage crush, Mingyu wanted you to find out by him, and not through some guy who had brought it up for no reason. He wanted to ask you out, to go little by little until you felt comfortable with him. But Seungcheol did him the huge favor of throwing everything out the window for a joke.

It’s like that old saying: I lose the friend, but I don’t lose the joke. And Mingyu wasn’t his friend, not now or back in school, so truthfully there was no loss for Seungcheol.

And then he saw you.

For a second he thought it was a mirage. It had been years since you had last been to that kind of event. Your last one was Mingyu’s first. He thought he was imagining things, that he was so crazy wanting to talk to you that he had started to imagine you in places you weren’t.

He watched as you walked right past Seungcheol, even when he tried to talk to you and stopped next to Jeonghan. Your expression was serious, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful.

The strapless dress slid down your body, almost as if it had been molded to your curves perfectly, tailored just for you. Your hair was loose over your back, just two strands framing your face. And your lips... lips painted in the sexiest shade of red he had ever seen.

Forget the little crush he had back in high school, this didn't even compare. It was a goddamn waterfall. Mingyu felt like he was standing next to one too with the way his heart was beating so loudly and deafening in his ears.

It was official, he was lost. He didn't know what to do. It was the first time he had felt this nervous in your presence. Before, it had been like butterflies flying around in his stomach, that kind of fun anxiety, the one that makes one giddy and excited.

He tugged at his tie again and grabbed a glass from the tray of a waiter who passed by. He didn't know what it was and also he didn't care, he needed something to wet his throat. The liquid went down bitterly, burning. The surprise made him have a small coughing fit.

Suddenly it was as if all eyes had turned to him, including yours. You smiled slowly as Minseo patted Mingyu on the back, trying to help, but making the situation even worse.

You quickly turned to Jeonghan, saying something for a second before walking towards Mingyu. With each step you took, he felt like his heart was beating faster and faster, to the point of almost exploding in his chest.

Over your shoulder, he saw Jeonghan smile and give him a thumbs up.

"Go for a walk," he said to his sister, without taking his eyes off you.

Did he say a waterfall? Forget it, it was more like an entire ocean.

Unconsciously, you smoothed your dress at least twice as you walked towards Mingyu. In a place full of so many theoretically important people, much more important than the two of you, it was very easy to go to him. Taking all those steps wasn't scary at all.

The feeling was completely different from that one time you had talked in college. That day, you had waited for him, your fingers trembling a little because you were in a place where anyone could see you. However, at that moment, you didn't feel any kind of nervousness.

Maybe, there was some nervousness, but the good kind. When you're excited to do something, the kind that you were sure would bring good things. You liked to think that the good thing at the moment was Mingyu.

"You look, wow... stunning."

He smiled and it was as if the breath had been taken from you, as if for a whole second your lungs forgot their purpose, forgot that they were supposed to push air into your body.

“Look at you, using pretty words,” you somehow found your voice again.

You tried your best to hide the nervousness you felt, the slight tremor in your voice. You didn’t know why you were feeling that way. You had seen Mingyu so many times, before and after you found out who he was. You had seen him in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt walking around campus; you were at the bar when he walked in wearing an all-denim look and glasses on the back of his head — you remembered finding that way of wearing glasses ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it made sense on him —, you had seen him walking around with his cap on backward.

You had always made a point of staying as far away from him and the circle he frequented as possible, but you could never deny that he was gorgeous. But there, in that moment, in that a black suit, his tie a little crooked and the most magnificent smile you had ever seen, you thought that maybe you didn’t need to force yourself to be away from him all the time.

“Just to impress a beautiful woman.”

You smiled, even though you tried to contain yourself, pressing your lips together. But you knew it was useless. There wasn't a single cell in your body that didn't like the attention you were getting, that didn't like his compliments.

“You haven't been to one of these in years.”

You nodded and looked over your shoulder. Your mother was chatting animatedly with a colleague, her eyes shining as she held out her hand and a second later your father was beside her.

You had all these differences with your parents, things that you disliked about them, and that made you keep your distance from them, but the truth is that you loved them.

When you arrived at your parent's house to get ready earlier that day, your dress in the bag, your backpack almost falling off your shoulders, it was as if you had been transported to your house 8 years before. But it was also different.

You half expected some comment, anything, no matter how small, that could be a comparison with Jeonghan — how even though he was completely busy with work if he didn't have a game or any specific schedule, he would always go to events, while you did everything to avoid it. But the comment never came.

Your mother sat by your side all day, asking you questions about yourself, about college, about the internship. She never mentioned Jeonghan, and when you tried to mention him, the only answer you got was “I don’t want to know about your brother, I want to know about you.”

You wanted to cry when you heard those words. It was the kind of thing you laways wanted to hear from her. The confirmation that you didn’t need to be compared to Jeonghan, that it was okay not to live in his shadow all the time.

“Do you come every year?”

“Yeah, my mother and sister would forgive me if I missed it.”

You nodded with a low noise in the back of your throat and took a step forward, your body a little too close to Mingyu’s, your fingers closing around his tie and pulling it slightly to the side until it was aligned with the buttons of his shirt.

You didn’t know what possessed you to do that. All your sane neurons, which hadn’t melted when he smiled at you for the first time, screamed that you were one step away from insanity, that you were, in fact, already crazy. You were sure that nurses the size of refrigerators would show up and take you to the psychiatric ward of the hospital at any second.

You licked your lips and took a step back, avoiding looking directly at Mingyu.

“It was the first time my mother managed to convince me in years” you admitted.

You looked around, looking for a waiter, wishing one would materialize in front of you, just so you could have something to hold on to, but have something to do with his hands, but there was none around.

“I'll thank her as soon as I see her.”

“You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?”

“Only when there's a gorgeous woman in front of me.”

The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any temporary bouts of insanity. There were a few moments, but you managed to control yourself every time. You managed to control the urge you had when you were next to him, to simply hold his hand.

Your mother was a great help, taking you away from Mingyu now and then to introduce you to some friends and coworkers. Jeonghan was by your side every time you weren't with Mingyu, like a bodyguard. You wondered if he was acting that way because you had said those things to him before; and if your mother's change in attitude was also related. Despite it all, although you had been shown off for part of the night, you had had fun. It could also have been the alcohol talking.

You had accepted a few more glasses than you should have. You were far from drunk, but you were certainly not in your sanest state. However, the alcohol brought a wave of courage to you, which until then had been completely unknown.

Towards the end of the gala, after dinner, when some of the guests had already started to leave, you saw Mingyu at the table next to yours. His parents sat in front of him, his sister next to him, and some people you had no idea who they were sat on at the edges. Mingyu kept his head low, nodding now and then. He seemed desperate to get out of there.

Before reason could prevail, you stood up and walked towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned your body forward until your face was close to his.

“Can you help me with something?”

You didn't notice the tremor in Mingyu's voice when he asked to be excused because your whole body was shaking too. You smiled at his parents and turned towards the exit, needing some fresh air.

A new wave of tremors and electricity ran through your body when Mingyu put his hand on your lower back. He was neither guiding nor rushing you. His hand was simply there, lightly. He pulled the door open for you and somehow still managed to keep his hand on you.

You liked it, the weight of it, his presence there.

"Did something happen?" he asked when you were far enough from the door and prying ears, letting his hand drop at the side of his body.

You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly missing the warmth from inside.

"No, you just seemed to be suffering" you half smiled, half laughed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic for assuming things.

Mingyu smiled at you then, removing his jacket and dropping it over your shoulder.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, this night would have sucked entirely"

It was silent for a minute, neither one of you doing anything at all. You were simply standing side by side, his elbow brushing yours from time to time while he rocked on his heels.

It was most definitely the alcohol talking, it had to be because there was no way you'd ever say what you were about to say if it weren't for it. Never, in good and normal conscience you'd have been bold enough. And yet, there you were.

"Can I ask you something?"

You turned to him and got a nod as an answer, his eyes expectant and curious. You forced the words out before you had the chance to stop yourself.

"That day, at my place, Seungcheol mentioned you having a crush on me. Was that true?"

There was a beat of silence, as Mingyu's smile slowly dropped. It was enough to make you regret the question, almost enough to make you regret the whole thing. Seeing Mingyu at the gala was a pleasant surprise, his presence was something you were grateful for during the night. You didn't mean to ruin it at the last minute.

You blamed the alcohol, though it had very little to do with your decision. You had been curious and wanted to ask Jeonghan about it but didn't dare to do so, not when you knew that your brother would be able to read right through you.

You blamed Seungcheol and his constant puppy eyes throughout the night, following your every move. His clear apologetic look, though no sorry words were said. His pride was too big for that.

You blamed yourself too, for being curious about it. You were just fine when he was just a guy from college, someone you'd see now and then in a poster, or someone you heard of in passing.

You blamed Mingyu too.

"Yeah, it was," he finally answered, sinking his hands into his pants pockets.

Screw it, you thought, if it's raining I might as well get drenched.

"And now?"

You held your breath, waiting for his answer.

"Still is," he said, voice soft, this almost apologetic smile on his lips.

You closed your eyes for just a second, somehow lavishing on his answer. There was a small smile on your lips as you turned to him, gripping his tie and pulling him down until you could press your lips to his.

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challenger-fan-club · 3 days

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fwb Art who's absolutely in love with you and obsessed with you and who asked to be your boyfriend many times and taking you on many dates but you kept rejecting until one day he gets to know that you're going on a date with someone else so he tries to stop thay date from happening and showing you who you belong to by having the most passionate sex and finally convincing you to accept you as your boyfriend

you can say you don't want this to be Stanford Art but it is.

You've turned him down so many times. But you can't stay away from him. The way he kisses you, the way he touches you. You're needy for him but you know that you can't be in a relationship with him. He's not good for you, not good for you to be distracted. You're not exactly the dating type and Art is almost ready to be a husband. All your friends think you're insane, you know that they're ready to settle down but we're too young and you want to be carefree for just a while. Art is also so very nice, and sweet and kind and you don't want to hurt him when you inevitable self destruct. You rationalise it to protect yourself, it would be like torturing a puppy. You don't want to waste his time and effort. You're doing this for him.

But you can't keep yourself away from Art. You always end up at his door at the end of the night, and he's so obsessed with you, he'll never tell you no. He just makes you cups of tea and cuddles you and keeps you warm. Giving you everything that you want, whenever you want it. "We're just friends with benefits." You tell him and repeat to yourself and Art nods his head as if to say "i know." He invites you to the bar with him, says Patrick and his new girlfriend will be there but they always seem to mysteriously cancel. Patrick was either the worst friend or just didn't exist. "This is not a date Art." He gets you both drinks. He gives you the "i know" nod, slightly hurt, given you a face, slightly like you've stood on a puppys paw. Art asks to be your boyfriend a lot. And you know that you should cut him off and let him go but you can't help yourself. It's like you and Art are magnets or somehow cosmetically intertwined.

Art walks up to you and your friends standing talking. It kills him because he wants to wrap his hands around you like he did in his bed last night. But because you're just fuck buddies, he can't kiss you. He's not even sure if your friends know that you've been seeing each other for the last while. You try to ignore him as you're continuing the conversation as one of your friends starts speaking to him. "Do you know where youre going? and more importantly, what are you wearing?"

Art's ears perk up at the conversation and you try and ignore him again. "I think we're just going for drinks, nothing special." You say softly. "and then back to his? I'm so jealous, he's so fucking hot. I can't believe he just asked you out." You tried to hold back a wince when she said it. You didn't mean for Art to find out about it, at all. Definitely didn't want him to find out like this. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to look at him and you didn't know when he was looking at you. "You should wear that black dress you wore a few weeks ago... and those boots, you'd look so hot!" Your friend continued but you had already withdrawn from the conversation. You knew that outfit worked because Art wanted to take you to the nearest empty room when he saw you wearing it. "I'll text you later, let you know how it goes." You left the conversation. Art stood, making small talk with your friends.

It was around half past 8 when you were getting ready. You were stupidly nervous. You didn't really go on dates, especially with people you didn't know. And you hadn't heard from Art all day long which made you nervous. You didn't want to hurt Art, you didn't know if Art was hurt. He was sensitive so you could only assume that he was sulking in his room. There was a knock at your door as finished fixing your make up. You looked at yourself in the mirror before answering the door. "Hi Art, what are you doing here?" He looked at your face for a moment before letting your eyes gaze over your body. Your curvy hips and cleavage was on show, dress hitting just above your thighs. Art thought you looked perfect. "Are you not going to invite me in?" Art smiled at you. "uhh... actually I'm just getting ready to go out." You were confused. Had he not heard the conversation earlier? You watched him as he followed you into your room. "Yeah, I know... I just thought I could convince you to stay here." He was being very confident, somewhat dominant which he normally isn't it. "Art, cmon." He sat on the bed as he watched you putting your earring in. "Cmon what?" You stood in front of him as he ran his hands on the outside of your thigh. "tell me, you don't want to cancel on him and stay here with me." You were biting your lip as he touched your thighs. "Art..." His hands rubbed up your body to your hips as he pulled you closer, separating his legs, allowing you to stand in between them.

He starts by kissing your stomach. He looks up at you as he pulls your dress up your thighs slowly, his kiss moving slowly down your body. "You know he can't make you feel as good as I can..." he continued to kiss down your body before placing his kiss on your underwear. Your hands were in his hair, rubbing his head, encouragingly. He started to pull you down your underwear as he guided you to the bed. "Art, he's going to be here soon." He just smiled as he started kissing your neck and his hands started rubbing your clit, dipping his fingers into you as you moan against him. "Good, he can hear how good I make you feel." He started to bite at your collar bone, trying to leave a mark. "Artttt..." you almost moaned. "Thats it, say my name, say who you belong to." He moved his fingers faster until you were begging for him to fuck you. Art was really playing a very good game, making you moan, making you a mess underneath him. "You're so good." He swiftly moved his boxers down and allowed his cock to bounce free as he rubbed it against your wetness. He started to push himself inside of you, inch by inch as you moaned. He kissed your mouth, passionately before moving his kiss back to your neck, down to your chest where he pulled your dress down so your breasts were exposed. He started sucking, licking and biting on your nipples as he slammed into you. "Art, fuck I'm gonna cum." You moaned as he quickened his pace. "That's it, good girl, cum on my cock, cum for me, you're all mines." He moaned as he switched between kissing you and playing with your nipples. "you're so good, fuck, you feel so good." He couldn't stop as he started to fill you the second you let your orgasm go. He continued to kiss you and move the hair out of your face. "You're literally so gorgeous." He whispered in your ear as he held his cock inside of you. "when are you finally going to admit that you were made for me?" he kissed your neck. You sighed. "Art, you know..." Art kissed you again. "Don't do this, whatever your worries are about me, we can do it, together. I want you. All of you and you want me, very clearly." He kept your gaze as he held you. "It's all of me or none of me, I'm not playing seconds." The words hurt you and you got a brief moment to think about this being the last time, that the other option was no Art in your life. "I'm happy to wait." He pulled himself away and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You were alone for just a moment. You didn't want you and Art to be over. But you thought you knew how you felt, what you wanted but everything Art said and did, just made your heart hurt. You wanted him. You needed him. When you thought he was mad at you, you felt weak and now he's here. Saying it's him or nothing. You thought you had the power, always telling him no to a relationship but being faced without Art, you didn't want to do it. The thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shit. Your date. This was your sink of swim moment.

Art popped his head out of the bathroom. "should i hide in the bathroom or tell him to go away?" Art was topless looking down at you with just his boxer shorts on. "Tell him to go away, then take your shorts back off?" His face almost lit up. "So you're finally gonna be my girl?" You smirked at him and rolled your eyes. "I'm all yours Donaldson."

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader

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priniya · 3 days

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ᯓᡣ𐭩 BEFORE US! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. ollie bearman x webber!reader.

summary. a drunken encounter leads to a history straight out of rom–com, turning the world of a formula 2 driver upside down.

notes. reader tells ollie the plot of before sunrise. also, reader is said to be ollie’s age (kinda self-indulgent LOL) maybe part 2 of them meeting in spa? 😁

it was eleven in the evening, while you were having a good time on the streets of hungarian capital city. your actions were not exactly responsible as you were there with a friend of yours that you met online a few months ago. also, you weren’t exactly sure how you managed to strain away from your father and oscar. well, alright — there was a possibility that a train, a sweet smile and a promise to be safe were involved.

honestly, you don’t even know how you ended up in that small bar, but in the larger point of view, you were happy that you let lara drag you there. you already had a few drinks in, you were going back to your booth, when you accidentally bumped into a muscular, tall guy, spilling the drink on your white dress.

“shit, i am so, so sorry.” the boy — because you could easily notice that he must’ve been similar to you in age — spoke relatively slowly, probably out of kindness as he couldn’t tell if you were fluent in english or not. some would call it offensive, but you considered it slightly endearing that the boy tried to be as considerate as possible, knowing that not everyone in the world speaks english.

his face fell to your chest for a tenth of a second, a small cough escaping his lips, before his cheeks tinted pinkish from embarrassment that he even let himself be so blatantly disrespectful towards you. what made it even worse was that the once white dress became see-through.

“shit, shit, your dress. i– here, take this.” he stuttered, swiftly taking off his grey hoodie, letting you take a glimpse of his toned stomach for half a second as his shirt rolled up.

people around you two, suddenly stopped existing and maybe the alcohol you’ve consumed that night was at fault — or maybe it was the charming aura around him, but you honestly couldn’t care less. he was the only guy that wasn’t trying to harass you or make your night less fun and definitely more stressful.

“you shouldn’t apologise, it’s all my fault. i wasn’t paying enough attention.” your voice was loud, but yet still soft enough, so only the boy you bumped into could hear you. “i’m yn, my friend lara is there in the corner booth, do you… um, maybe wanna join us? so i can get you a drink for bumping into you?”

it might’ve been a risky move — he could always say no, laugh at you and go away, thinking you were the most embarrassing person in the entire bar. or he could think that you were a pretty cute, interesting girl that he’d like to spend a july evening with. and, fortunately for you, ollie introduced himself with a quick breath of relief (that he didn’t know he was holding), said that he’d love to join you and buy you a drink, but he was there with two other guys and one of the friends’ girlfriend.

so, upon hearing that, as a responsible human being, you… suggested that they should join you as well, because you really felt like getting to know ollie a tad better. upon hearing that he wasn’t there alone, you nodded with a small smile, before suggesting that it’s not really a big deal and that maybe the four of them would like to join you and lara, who wouldn’t have anything against it since she was a social butterfly, loving bigger crowds.

two and a half hour later, you ended up walking down the cobblestone pathway, while your newfound group of friends was a few steps ahead. lara quickly got along with kimi, eliska and gabriele, so you felt less guilty that you got so occupied in the endless conversation with ollie, slowly trailing behind the group. a month or two later, you were told by eliska that she saw the way you and ollie click and made sure you could get along.

you weren’t sure where the six of you were going, budapest was a gorgeous city, but keeping your eyes on bearman was pretty much enough. he had your arm hooked around his as you slightly started to stumble from the tiny gaps in the path. a giggle escaped your mouth as he whispered a really cheesy joke, his lips inches away from your ear. then, your drunken mind thought that you should come clean with the cute boy about why you’re actually in budapest.

“i have a confession.” you started quietly, your words barely above a whisper. ollie let you continue as he simply nodded. if you weren’t tipsy from all the strawberry daiquiris you had at the bar earlier, you would notice how his body tensed slightly, almost as if he was afraid of what you were about to say.

the first thing that came to his mind was that you had a boyfriend somewhere in monaco, while he was really getting a vibe from you that maybe you were interested in getting to know him as much as he wanted to get to know you. just half a second later came the thought that you knew who he was and it was just as awful. he hasn’t been in the spotlight of motorsport for a long time yet, but he was aware of how people’s perception on things change once they realise what he does, and he really, really didn’t want it to be the case with you.

“this is not something i usually tell people on the day i meet them, but you’re so genuine and so, so nice to me.” your words were coming off as rambling, though despite the lump in his throat, the prema driver couldn’t help but think that maybe he could live with the thought of you bumping into him on purpose if he could listen to your cute rambling for a few more minutes. “and i’m really enjoying spending time with you right now, and-and i don’t want you to think that i’m like a liar or something, because i really am not.”

“hey, breathe. whatever it is, i don’t think i’m gonna perceive you as a liar.” his quiet chuckle with a nervous undertone was enough for you to calm down a bit. his hand dropped to yours, squeezing it for a little more reassurance.

“that’s what i’m really hoping for.” you whispered, looking down at your jointed hands, a ghost of smile lingering on your face. “so, there’s this sport you might’ve heard of — or not, honestly if it wasn’t for my dad, i don’t know if i would, but — gosh, i’m sorry i’m rambling again. alright… there’s, um, formula one, right? i guess you know, because it is a big thing in england, i suppose.” oliver nodded once again, a pit in his stomach growing.

“the thing is… i’m in hungary for that exact reason. there was the grand prix this weekend and i came here with my dad, because, um… he’s a manager of, um, one of the drivers. oscar? he won today, yesterday, technically.”

ollie couldn’t believe what he just heard. he was so scared that you were pretending just to boast about hanging out with formula 2 and formula 3 drivers, while you were having an inner turmoil of your own, weighing pros and cons of telling him that you were the daughter of the mark webber. he could see the nervous expression on your pretty face and his heart swelled, knowing that in those two and a half hours of constant chatter he gained so much of your trust to be told that.

for other people it might seem like it was nothing, nevertheless ollie knew how much fake people you must’ve met in your life, who liked you for your father’s achievements and not you. god, for a moment he felt like crying.

“i was there too.” he gave you a shy smile. before you were able to overthink every possible scenario with the worst possible outcome, his smile widened, his hip gently nudging yours. “i’m racing for prema in f2.” he chuckled at your surprised expression.

bearman, as he was a tad more sober than you, could easily notice the weight falling off your shoulders, once you recognised him, quickly replaced by a blush of embarrassment that flooded your cheeks.

“that’s why i thought i’ve seen you somewhere.” you muttered, scrunching your nose, gears in your brain working overtime. “i’m sorry, it’s— i haven’t really been up to date with formula 2. but i remember you from saudi, i wasn’t there, but my dad was really impressed. everything makes sense now, though.”

“no need to be embarrassed or anything, i’m glad neither of us recognized each other. you made me feel like a normal teenager for once.” he grinned down at you, your face matching his as he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer, but you couldn’t really complain.

you didn’t remember the moment, when your night turned into a reenactment of one of your favorite rom-coms — before sunrise. gabriele, kimi and eliska had to go back to their hotels, suspiciously at the same time, when lara’s curfew was coming. it was truly reckless for you to stay out with ollie till your train back to the place your father had rented for the four days stay in hungary. once you were alone, he made sure to keep you close to him at all times, so if an emergency occured, he’d be able to protect you.

“i feel like i’m in a movie.” your admission was soft as you slowly sat down on the grass in the park, the state of your white dress long forgotten as it’d be green once the sun was up.

“a movie you like?”

“my favorite one.” ollie smiled.

“tell me about it.” he suggested, plopping down next to you, uncorking the wine you two bought earlier in one of those 24/7 shops.

“it’s about two people that met on a train going across the europe.” you started explaining, ollie’s free arm slung across your shoulders once again, making you realize what his love language must be. “he’s american and she’s french, once they stop in vienna, he asks her to get off the train with him and walk around the town with him till he has to go to the airport, because it’s his last day in europe. she thinks it’s crazy, but she agrees and they spend the entire night together. nothing kubrick-esque happens there, all of the action happens during their dialogues. they share opinions and stuff. it’s kind of silly, but they end up in a park, too, with wine and stuff.”

“like us.” he commented, his eyes still lingering on your face as they were, while you were skimming over the plot of the movie.

“like us.” you repeated softly.

“so, what do they do in the park?” ollie asked another question, earning himself a small hum from you as you shifted closer, his thumb absentmindedly drawing shapes on your shoulder. your stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies as he asked all the right questions, made all the right moves, giving you all the right smiles.

“they kiss.” a whisper left your lips, tilting your head to get a better view of his face.

“they kiss.” it was the prema’s driver’s time to repeat the short sentence as you just nodded, noticing the way his eyes flickered to your mouth.

sweet silence embraced the two of you as bearman took his chance and leaned forward an inch or two, cautiously testing the waters. when you didn’t pull back, a smile tugged onto his face, before cupping your cheek with his free hand.

however, ollie didn’t kiss you for a moment that felt like eternity. his mouth just hoovered over yours, giving you a chance to back up, to show him that he read the signs wrong, but you didn’t. your eyes locked with his, before his lips were moving against yours in a sweet, gentle and almost tantalising manner. you couldn’t tell how long were you kissing for, but when the two of you finally pulled away, his mouth was tinted with the red shade of your lipstick, both with messed up hair and slightly swollen lips.

it was almost seven in the morning, while you were sitting at the train station with your hand clasped in ollie’s. the silence between you was truly the most comfortable thing in the world at the moment. budapest was slowly waking up in the background as you enjoyed his presence beside you.

“what do they do in the movie before they part ways?” he interrupted the silence.

“they promise to see each other in a six months time in the same place. they don’t exchange numbers or anything, though.” you recalled, wondering where was he going with this.

“and do they? meet, i mean.” he asked, already expecting the answer as you’d told him it was a trilogy.

“not in the set time. she can’t make it to vienna again, because her grandmother dies, but he does.” you nodded. “but they do meet each other again, eight years later, this time in paris.”

“good thing we’re not jesse and celine.” ollie joked, a grin tugging on your lips as you nod in agreement. “i do have your number, and we can see each other in spa on thursday, if you want to.”

“i do.” this time, you were the one to press a gentle kiss on his lips for a brief second as your train arrived. bearman just grinned back at you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “i’ll see you on facetime then, and in belgium.”

ollie stayed for another five minutes after your train departed. his gaze dropping to the phone in his hand before he quickly sent you a message.

ollie: thank you for making this night amazing for me x

167 notes · View notes

maxverstappendefender · 11 hours

Text

ain't no love in oklahoma // op81 smau

description: twisters actress!reader x op81 but lando is convinced oscar is lying (from request)

a/n: sorry for being completely inactive. life happened and it didn't happen in a good way! i have a huge exam coming up soon so i will most likely still be inactive besides maybe a few short things here and there. anyways first oscar fic so enjoy! all pics found on pinterest, i don't own any

a/n pt2: might do something fun for each day in october but im not sure what so send me some ideas. also might do some more headcannons/blurbs soon here!

requests: closed but feel free to send me some messages since i love talking to you guys

masterlist

liked by oscarpiastri, glenpowell, and 2,927,641 others

youruser: go see twisters!! if you don’t, you suck and you better hope you don’t get stuck in a tornado because there’s useful information in our movie

tagged: glenpowell

view all comments

oscarpiastri: proud of you!!

↳ youruser: 🧡

glenpowell: caption is so real of you

user1: doesn’t yn have a boyfriend? why is she so close to glen?

↳ user2: yes but probably because there’s limited space. yn isn’t like that

↳ oscarpiastri: exactly what user2 said

landonorris: cute!

↳ user3: what are you doing here??

↳ user4: lando in the comments?

user5: such a good movie

user6: yn + glen = power duo

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,951,750 others

oscarpiastri: proud boyfriend award goes to me 🏆 thx for all the bts selfies

tagged: youruser, glenpowell

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landonorris: i just laughed out loud

landonorris: “boyfriend” lmaooo

↳ user7: i cant tell if he’s joking or serious

user8: cutest couple ever

glenpowell: aww so glad you remembered the time you took me to the aquarium, what a romantic!

↳ youruser: get your own boyfriend capybara

↳ user9: yn CLOCKED him

// lando’s phone//

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 4,027,835 others

landonorris: POLE BABYYYY!!! everyone ignore my teammates instagram posts, i have told him to stop. i think he took a hit to the head or something

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oscarpiastri: do you want to go to the farm or not?

↳ landonorris: you already said i could go so no take backs

↳ user10: lando is going to yn's farm??

↳ user11: LANDO'S MEETING YN?!

↳ user12: oh i know he's going to fangirl so hard

user13: get me someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at lando

↳ user14: are we sure that they aren't the ones dating?

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,017,426 others

youruser: back home finally! pic 1: yeehaw. pic 2: my cat cora had her babies!!! pic 3: dinner date :)

tagged: oscarpiastri

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user15: CORA HAD HER KITTIES

↳ youruser: i am officially a grandma. i feel the gray hairs coming in now

user16: oscar and yn are endgame

oscarpiastri: the best company

↳ landonorris: STOP, idk how you got her in on this joke either

↳ user16: i can't tell if lando knows they are actually dating and is joking or if he truly does not believe oscar

user17: boyfriend is back on the feed!

↳ user18: farmer yn is back on the feed!

glenpowell: miss you lady

↳ youruser: you miss my animals more

↳ glenpowell: and what about it.

liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, and 4,209,384 others

landonorris: OMG HE WASN'T LYING i got to feed so many animals, got to channel my inner cowboy, AND get drunk with the yn? i can die a happy man

tagged: youruser

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oscarpiastri: believe me now?

↳ landonorris: never doubted you

↳ user19: lando seriously didn't believe oscar lol

↳ user20: i fully thought he was joking the entire time

user21: how hard did you fangirl to meet yn, lando?

↳ landonorris: surprised i didn't pass out honestly. i facetimed GLEN POWELL

youruser: so glad you had a fun time!!

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,298,361 others

oscarpiastri: everyone clear that this is my girlfriend?

tagged: youruser

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user22: sassy oscar

↳ user23: channeling his inner lando

landonorris: yes sir 🫡

↳ oscarpiastri: stop being weird ?

youruser: MY MANNNNN

↳ user24: oh she's in deep

user25: there is one thing oscar doesn't play about in life: yn

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,208,763 others

youruser: didn't even know there was confusion that this was my boyfriend lol

tagged: oscarpiastri

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landonorris: how was i meant to know?!

↳ user26: literally how everyone else knew, instagram.

glenpowell: yn stop posting pics of me and my boyfriend and acting like he's yours

↳ youruser: i dont like this joke.

↳ oscarpiastri: bromance or whatever

↳ user27: they're in a throuple

↳ youruser: ew

↳ glenpowell: disgusting

↳ oscarpiastri: huhhh

user28: couple goals forever and ever

user29: if they don't get married... love isn't real

262 notes · View notes

genderless-naper · 2 days

Text

tattooed fingers

trafalgar law x alt!strawhat!reader

tw: slight choking, jealous law hehe

wc: 1.5k, lowercase intended !

a remark about his fingers might leave you feeling speechless

the crew was lively as usual traveling the seas on the sunny. everything was where it was meant to be except for one unknown variable: trafalgar law. the current alliance your captain accepted without much thought was questioned by all your crew mates. still they held hope in their captains decisions, and welcomed the unknown pirate on the ship. it was obvious he wasn’t much of an engager; especially when he gave blunt responses to any of the crew mates attempts of conversation.

instead he was an observer. specifically an observer of you. you stood out in the group of pirates. it was hard for him to avoid looking at you. your confident demeanor, your bold personality, and your style of clothes were all setting his attraction levels on an all time high.

he fought hard to push away the thought of your fishnets clinging to your thighs, and how he would rip them open to do unspeakable things to you. he tried to deny any sense of captivation, but when he sees your choker hugging your neck he becomes angered that it isn’t his hand choking you instead. his attempts to ignore you seemed impossible with the way your boots clanked against the deck boards. the strain it put on him to imagine how you two would sound with one of your legs held in the air and him in between.

at the end of the day it didn’t matter. you were a strawhat, so he did the best thing to make sure you stayed away from him.

he never responded to you. he never looked at you when you talked to him. he never addressed you when he talked to the group. he needed to make sure you didn’t get close to him so he wouldn’t fall for you more than he has. he buried his feelings inside him in hopes they would go away on their own.

during the day you decide to show off the new garter belt you were gifted to your crew. you were excited to finally open it up and try it on. the belt wrapped around your waist perfectly and connected with a section that hugged one of your thighs. you tightened it as you expressed your excitement to your crew. nico robin had gotten it for you knowing it would fit your wardrobe perfectly. your sense of style made her your biggest admirer (second to law). you thanked her with a big smile.

after cooping himself within the sunny the tattooed man surfaces to the deck solely for a refill of his coffee cup. during his coffee breaks he did his best to avoid you. he made the grave mistake of overhearing your conversation with nico robin about the garner belt. his eyes gazed over to your figure, and the leather belt wrapped around it. he couldn’t stop looking you up and down while fighting his feelings from resurfacing. he watched as you two laughed together effortlessly, and how she tighten the belt for you. she was dangerously close to you for his comfort.

after your laughing fit with the woman you finally saw law glaring down nico robin. after constant horrible interactions you’ve found yourself to heavily dislike the man standing near you. you crossed your arms as you spoke to him in annoyance, “can we help you? the kitchen is that way you caffeinated freak.” you pointed to the kitchen on the other side.

law snaps out of his thoughts. in an attempt to hide his emotions he responds without much thought, “so why exactly are you dressed so edgy?”

you rolled your eyes at the pure hypocrisy coming from him, “says the guy who has ‘death’ tattooed on his fingers on both hands. youre the most edgiest man i’ve ever met.”

law glances down at his fingers as a realization hits him. the reason he was so drawn to you was you two shared so many similarities. having nothing left to exchange with this man you turn back to nico robin and continue your conversation.

he spent the rest of the day trying to steal glances of you, but them just being ruined by you being so close to nico robin. he didn’t understand why you were so attached to her. if he couldnt have you then why should she?

he hated the way your conversations flowed so perfectly. how you could talk to her for hours and she would just admire you. he especially hated when you touched her arm while laughing at her joke. if he couldn’t experience those things when why could she?

it went on for the rest of the day. the two of you becoming closer and closer. the sharing of intimate platonic energy went well into the night as well.

the last thing that broke his patience completely was went she asked you if you’d like the stargaze with her. he looked at you in disbelief when you agreed excitedly. he expected you to reject the offer. a ting of jealousy crawled up his throat as you laid close to her to share a blanket. she pointed to the different constellations to show you.

“look there y/n” she points to the sky at a group of stars. you tried to follow her finger to the stars and she talks, “thats called the andromeda constellation.”

“robin i dont know what youre pointing at!” you pout slightly. nico robin takes a hold your face to help you look at the constellation properly as she connects the stars together, “do you see it now y/n?”

you nod fast, “its so pretty robin!”

the women smiled softly while starring at you, “its pretty just like you y/n.”

you blush slightly. before you had the chance to respond you hear footsteps approaching you both.

law had enough of seeing robin all over you. he could deal with you two talking and laughing together, but laying under the stars together while she called you pretty? thats where he drew the line.

he towered over you. your annoyance all starting to come back again from earlier in the day. you sat up ready to shoot him a sassy remark before you feel him grab your arm and pull you up. you try to tug your arm away, “let go of me trafalgar! what the hell do y-“

before you could process whats happening you find a blue bubble engulf you both. law activated his power to get you both away and somewhere more private.

he mumbled in annoyance not expecting you to hear, “i couldn’t stand watching her all over you like that.”

you raised a brow, “all over me? what are you talking about?? thats just how we are. not that its any if your business anyways!” you yank your arm back and cross it.

a fire lights in his eyes as he narrows them at you slowly, “so you’re both all over each other all the time..? are you serious y/n-ya?”

you were confused at his sudden acts. he was making you feel like you did something wrong. the memories of law ignoring you or being rude still fresh in your mind. you scoffed, “i don’t know what the hell you’re trying to say right now.”

law shot back without thinking, “i’m saying you need to stop that shit right now. i don’t want you cuddled up with someone watching the stars. i’m sick and tired of being in the background having to accept you be gifted stuff like this.” he loops a finger in the belt around your waist to pull you closer to him, “i like you too much for you to be tainted by these other people.”

you were shocked at the words coming out his mouth. he was probably just as shocked as you were, but the jealousy was overriding his chances of thinking logically. the thought of nico robin’s arm around your waist or the way she grabbed your face burned fresh in his mind. you pushed him away with annoyance setting back in, “all this caffeine is driving you insane.”

he shook his head, “you’re the one driving me insane y/n-ya” at this point he realized he couldn’t lock his thoughts away anymore. there was no going back, but did he really wanna go back when you stood in front of him looking so perfect?

he slowly raised his hand to your neck. he felt you tense as he brushes his fingertips against the skin above your choker. he stared at it with envy before he speaks in a commanding tone, “take this off.”

you hesitated to follow his instructions. you slowly open the clasp and take it off. the difference of having it off didn’t last long once it was replaced with law’s hand gripping your neck gently.

he smirked as he rubbed his thumb along a vein pressing on it slightly, “so what exactly were you saying about my tattooed fingers?”

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daydreamerwoah · 2 days

Text

Love Through It All Pt. 9

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; drinking; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; mentions of therapy/counseling; a jealous and possessive Ghost; violence

Read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

"Slow down," Ava yelled over the loud music, "That's like your second shot and we just got here."

You smirked at her before tossing back the shot. The liquor burned your throat a little, but you didn't care. As you placed the glass down on the bar top, you tried ordering another before Ava stopped you.

"Why not," you pouted a little before giggling.

"Y/n... what's going on?" she asked in concern.

You slightly groaned, "Can't a girl have fun out at the club with her best friend?"

"I mean yes but-"

"But what?" the grin still on your lips as you ordered another shot - this time for both of you. When the bartender slid them to you, you raised your glass up, "Cheers!" you shouted, as you didn't even wait for Ava to clink her glass with yours before you threw your head back, gulping the liquor down your throat. You looked around the club, seeing people dance to the music.

This wasn't like you. Of course, you drank, and of course, Ava had seen you drunk before. But something was off.... way off. You'd barely said anything about why you wanted to go out when she picked you up. And you only talked about the dress you had on and how sexy you looked.

"Simon come back today?" she asked, eyeing you with a knowing look; looking for a reaction out of you.

And a reaction you gave. Your body tensed while the smile that was plastered over your face dropped immediately. You glanced at her and almost scoffed, "Yeah."

"And?" she pushed for an answer.

One you weren't wanting to give.

You sighed, "And nothing... Look I don't wanna talk about him right now alright? I just drink and shake my ass," you laughed at your own sentence, "Now will you take a shot with me?"

She wanted to protest. She should have convinced you to leave the place. But she also knew exactly what you were going through. The moments where you said fuck it to everything; the progress you had made with Simon. Something set you off... but she wasn't going to make it worse. So she did what any best friend would do.... she ordered a shot for both of you.

She would get you to tell her eventually anyway. For now... she'd help you have your fun.

"Can I get a whiskey? No ice," a deep voice, that was next to you, yelled at the bartender, "And.. whatever the pretty lady's having."

You glanced up, meeting the blue eyes of the man who had ordered his drink, only to find him smiling down at you.

Oh.

He meant you.

The immediate blush that formed on your face as you looked down at the empty glass in your hand only made his grin wider. He leaned down closer to you, lips halfway to your ear, "What's your name beautiful?" he asked before straightening up and waiting for you to respond.

Ava couldn't help her eyes from widening and the giggle that escaped from her as she stood next to you. You quickly glanced at her, shooting her a look - stop laughing.

"Y/n." You smiled., half blushing... half internally freaking out.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful woman," he said before the bartender handed his drink to him while sliding another shot of tequila to you. "I'm Keegan." He introduced himself while holding out his hand for you to shake.

God, was he flirting hard. But you shook it anyway, hating how red your face was. You hoped he hadn't noticed it since it was dark in the club. The only light being from the DJ and strobe lights that flickered over the huge room. But you were pretty sure he saw as you couldn't help but observe how his blue eyes seemed to shine even in the darkness of the club.

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

Simon and Johnny arrived back at your apartment, with Simon all but busting through the front door as soon as he unlocked it. Johnny tried multiple times to calm him down... At least get him to slow down when driving back there, but the man hadn't heard anything he said. All he wanted was to get back home to you. But you were gone.

What was he expecting? That you were joking? That you were tricking him into coming back home? No. He wasn't stupid. He knew you meant what you said. And that alone made his hands tremble a bit.

"Simon," Johnny grabbed his shoulder to face him. The sergeant rarely used his friend's real name; always accustomed to calling him by his callsign. But this time was different. This time he needed to really get through to him.

There was a long and silent pause as Johnny looked at Simon. The desperate and regretful look in his eyes. The water that gathered around the white part of them as he fought back the tears that threatened to fall. He was scared. Fuck he was so scared. Of what though? He didn't want to think about it. It wasn't that he didn't trust you. God, he trusted you with his entire life, and only he fucked that up because of his stupid actions.

What he didn't trust.. was other men. You'd had been drinking some wine when he got home. He remembered seeing the glass in your hand and the half-empty bottle on the counter. He didn't want to think about you being out and so vulnerable to someone taking advantage of you.

"Y'need to calm down. She's gonna come back home."

"I need to go find her," Simon said as he stepped back and made his way to the front door.

"What? L.T. ya can't do that!" he yelled, trying to rationalize with his friend. "She's gonna kill ya."

Simon repsonded immediately "I'll let her then."

"Y're not thinkin right mate."

A loud groan left his mouth, muffled by the mask he still had on, "I just wanna go get m'wife Johnny.

This was a bad idea; a terrible idea. But the sergeant couldn't help but feel bad for the damn man. He barely focused on the mission while they were gone, Price barking out orders several times because he wasn't listening. He hardly slept.... and now he was about to go out and look for you.

"Fuckin' hell," Johnny said before agreeing, "If she does kill ya, can I have ya motorcycle at least?"

He couldn't help it. He was a comedian.. even if it wasn't funny.

But Simon couldn't help but smirk, "I'll give you the chest candy,"

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

You were definitely going to regret drinking when you woke up the next morning. But as the night continued on, you didn't want to think about that. You and Ava were either on the dance floor when one of your favorite songs played over the speakers, or you'd be at the bar, talking to Keegan. Ava couldn't help the teasing comments she said under her breath when he said something that made you blush. Even when you went to the restroom to touch up your makeup, she teased you.

"He's been staring at you all night," she giggled.

You playfully rolled your eyes, "I don't care. It's not like I'm going home with him." She hummed in agreement.

Yes, Keegan was very attractive (really fucking attractive), and he was flirting a lot with you. His eyes trailing up and down your body ever so often, always pausing at your thigh where the split in your dress was or the low cut in the front that exposed your chest.

Really you damn near had on nothing - the dress showing very little left to the imagination, especially with the guy. And you could tell he wanted to see more.

When the two of you made your way back to the dance floor, you thought nothing more about Keegan. Your hips swayed to the beat, singing the lyrics to the song. You giggled when you saw Ava decline some random dude who wanted to dance. You were so caught up in the beat you almost didn't feel a pair of hands graze your hips as a warm body strolled up behind you. You looked back, seeing those blue eyes of Keegan.

"You know, I've been watching you dance all night beautiful," he said, lips so close to your ear, your pulse quickened. But with the liquor clouding your mind a bit, you just blushed.

"Oh yeah?" you turned your head to look at him."

"Mhmm," he leaned even closer, lips brushing your ear, "Makes me want to worship you."

"Worship me?" you asked in pure curiosity, making him hum again, "How would you do that?"

He was waiting for you to ask that. He had been waiting all goddamn night for you to say something - say anything - for him to show you what he meant. He wrapped his right arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you felt the slight bulge in his jeans before he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear and then dipped his head to kiss your neck.

It felt wrong. It felt all wrong. Before you even pulled away to deny his offer, a fist flew through the air, hitting him in the face. His arm gave way from your waist as he stumbled back. You turned around, eyes wide, as gasps were heard from the crowd around you, and you glanced to see who had punched him.

Simon.

Everything happened so fast. Keegan - not even realizing why he was just punched - swung back on Simon, hitting him in the jaw. All hell broke loose, and a full-on fight spiraled between them as other men from the crowd tried to break it up. Johnny yelled Simon's name as he tried pulling him off of Keegan. It was a futile attempt to get him to back off, but it was your scream that got him to stop, his eyes locking directly on yours.

In the midst of it all, you had tried fighting your way in the middle to stop both of them but only got pushed into the arms of Ava, who pulled you back so you wouldn't get hurt. Security had forced their way through the crowd, finally making Keegan leave first. You felt awful as he glanced at you in disgust before rolling his eyes and leaving out of the club.

Simon walked up to you not even two seconds later, his hand wrapping around your arm and pulling you out of the club with Johnny and Ava right on your tail. The moment the four of you were outside, you tried to pull away, but it only made his grip tighter.

God, he was mad. He was so mad... but so were you. Something mystifying and intense stirred in your stomach as you looked at Simon. He hadn't said a fucking word. Even when Johnny said he was going to go home, even when Ava said she'd call you tomorrow before she got in her car and left. All he did was open the passenger door, letting you get in the car before walking around the other side and getting in the driver's seat.

Something was brewing between the both of you, and the entire ride home was fueling the fire that was underneath.

Okay.... I hate that I put our Keegan in this only to get into a fight with Simon. Don't hate me okay!!! :( I needed someone to make him lose his mind lol! (I honestly might change this part at a later time... idk yet) What do we think? Give me all the feedback! I love when you all comment and be mad with me.... we are all frustrated and mad at Simon together!

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde

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d1g1tal-d1ary · 2 days

Text

Part 2 of my addicted!Simon headcanon!!

Price always had a lot going on; being the Captain of a Task Force demanded a lot of time, energy and most of all - nerves.

So when one of the nurses on base had pulled him aside and said that she suspected someone stealing Morphine, all he did was nod and call in a meeting. Luckily, everyone had obliged to giving him a urine sample to let it be tested for drugs.

What no one seemed to notice was Simon's eyes staring into nothingness as all he did was pray that his heavy heart wouldn't give his covers away. His head was spinning because he searched for a way out of this - there had to be a way he didn't have to take it. And suddenly his mind started to wander off to you; the only one who'd met him without knowing he was Ghost. The only one who knew he had a problem - a fucking big one right now - and the only one who understood him was you.

One hand tightly gripping the little cup, the other one knocking loudly on your door. He didn't hesitate when the door opened; he simply pushed it open and walked into your tiny apartment.

"Simon?" you asked with a frown plastered on your face. You hadn't expected him - of course you hadn't so all you were wearing was one of your cute pyjamas you avoided to wear around him normally. "Is everything okay?"

"I messed up," was all that came across his lips with a heavy sigh. When his gaze met yours, all he could do was put the cup on your kitchen table and point at it. "I need your help."

You stepped closer and eyed the little cup and when you realized what exactly he'd asked you to do, you shook your head. "No, I'm not helping you fake a drugtest."

"Please, luvie," his eyes studied your face - he reduced the distance between you two quickly and took your face into his rough and calloused hands. "I'll never ask anythin' of you ever again. Just let me keep my job, fuck- it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane all this time."

Of course your heart sank when you heard his pleading and even more so when you looked up at him and you could see the desperation in his blue eyes. After moments had passed - which felt like years for Simon - you'd finally nodded and given in to him.

"I knew you'd understand," he whispered and pecked your lips before letting you go take the drugtest.

You'd never felt so dirty in your life. Pissing into a little cup while Simon waited impatiently outside the bathroom made you feel greedy and so, so worthless. But if you were being honest; there was nothing you wouldn't do for Simon. Of course you weren't supporting his addiction - that was the main reason you had broken up, after all. But he was your Simon. The closest you'll ever get to finding unconditional love.

A few days after Simon had given the sample to Price - he'd been the last to hand it over - the test results finally came. And Price would never doubt his team; they'd done everything together for years at this point, but he could also imagine one of his soldiers having an addiction as it was nothing new.

To his surprise and relief, all the test results came back negative. But looking at Simon's results made him frown - or more so, all he could do was huff at the result.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Simon had stepped into Price's office; not even thinking that it could have anything to do with the drugtest as he knew you hadn't taken any.

Price's eyes never left Simon's form. He watched him intensly as he took the seat across from Price's desk. "Yeah, well, the results came back and since you're L.T., I thought you'd deserve to know before everyone else."

Simon hummed in response while leaning back, silently thanking you again.

"Luckily, everyone's negative," Price announced which made Simon even more relaxed. "But.. The Lab was a bit confused and thought something went wrong as Simon Riley's clearly a male name."

"Captain, I don't think I can follow you," Simon had frowned under his balaclava.

Price barked a bitter laugh as he looked at the Lieutnant in front of him. "They found the hormone Beta-hCG in your piss. You wanna know what that means?"

All Simon could do was nod; unaware of what's to come.

"The fuckin' piss is from someone who's pregnant," Price lowly said. "So now we not only know this wasn't your piss, but I think you two would've been smart enough to know we‘d find out. So, Riley, should I say congratultions?"

Y‘all wanna read part 3???!!! 🙏😭

#simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #headcanons #simon riley headcanon #writers on tumblr #drabble #pregnancy

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icallhimjoey · 3 days

Note

Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

---

I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x Y/N #joseph quinn x Y/N #icallhimjoey #rpf #i'll let the sun decide

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fallstaticexit · 3 days

Text

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Source for tarot reading

Transcript under the cut

Morgan: Ever done this before?

Nancy: Can’t say that I have.

Morgan: Are you as put off about this as that other bible thumper?

Nancy: [rolls eyes] We’re not all the same. I’m more than my faith.

Morgan: I don’t doubt that. I’m sure there’s many layers to you. Where are you from?

Nancy: Brindleton Bay.

Morgan: Really, I’m from Portridge, a small town south of the Bay. Originally.

Nancy: Yeah? So, how did you end up a Fyres?

Morgan: Great question. My mom was his secretary. Super scandalous shit, which would explain while the Royal Barbie hates my guts. He’s not a bad step dad though. Hell of lot better than my actual dad. So, your parents-

Nancy: Isn’t the probing developing a bias or something?

Morgan: Just a little small talk. So, is there a question you want answered? Perhaps, a question about your past, your present or your future?

Nancy: I-

Nancy Narrates: [I want to get forget my past. I want to survive my present. I want to escape my future. Could there really be an answer for all that in those cards]

Nancy: I don’t know...

Morgan: That’s ok. You intention will guide us.

Morgan: Pick three cards that call to you. Based on the three, we will see what the cards have to say about your past, present and future.

Nancy: And you believe in this?

Morgan: We believe what we believe in, right? You have your three?

Nancy: I think so..

Morgan: Let’s take a look.

Morgan: Your past—the Upright Fool. Innocence. Curorsity. Something new and exciting—perhaps a first love in your youth that swept you off your feet?

Nancy Narrates: [Already I hated this...]

Morgan: Your present- the Reversed Star. Insecurity. Self doubt. A loss of faith. Interesting. Perhaps a struggle with one’s own faith? Are you having any doubts, Nancy? About yourself? About your God?

Morgan: Your future- the Upright Devil. Lust. Obsession. Temptation. Could be for the material things of life, or maybe a desire of the flesh.

Nancy: [clears throat] That all seems incredibly vague.

Morgan: [grins] Does it? Your poker face could use some work. Let me ask you something. Who exactly did I remind you of? Someone from your past?

Morgan: Your silence is very telling. I have a real gift for reading people.

Nancy: I’m sure you believe you do.

Morgan: [laughs] I really do!

Morgan: Tightly wound, fidgeter. You bite the hell out of your nails, right at the skin on the tips of your fingers, unconsciously. You pick at it until it bleeds. It’s the only thing that’s keeping you tethered to your own body. The pain, that is.

Morgan: Right?

Geoffrey: You made it! And making friends! Sorry, am I interrupting girl talk?

Morgan: It’s cool, boy wonder. Want me to do your reading?

Geoffrey: Are you kidding? Of course I do!

Nancy: Actually, I think I want to g-

Geoffrey: Really quick, Nance, then I’ll walk you to your dorm!

Geoffrey: Upright Death for my future sounds kind of scary when you think about it, huh? She said it could mean profound change. Sounds promising.

Nancy: [tsks] That could mean literally anything. That whole practice strives on vagueness. You can never be wrong if you’re bound to be right.

Geoffrey: Yeah, but it’s about how you perceive it, right? It’s unique. She did yours, didn’t she? What did yours say?

Nancy: Yeah, I um, don’t remember.

Geoffrey: Maybe you can ask her again. You two seem to hit it off.

Nancy: [huffs] Please. I am not going back to that shabby bar. She’s a sham. Those cards mean nothing. It’s stupid.

Geoffrey: [sighs]

Nancy: What?

Geoffrey: [blows raspberries]

Nancy Narrates: [Truth was, I was more curious than anything]

Nancy: So. Those cards. Could they...I don’t know- tell me something that could happen in a week? Like if I asked if I’ll pass my Statistics exam?

Nancy Narrates: [I was completely captivated by this otherworldly experience, whether I’d admit it outloud or not]

Nancy Narrates: [and Morgan was always happy to indulge me]

Nancy: [whispers] So I past my exam. How does this even work? I mean, how could they know? The cards. Could you do another reading after the debate?

Nancy Narrates: [But of all the questions I did ask, there was one that burned inside me more]

[heavy metal spills into the hallway]

Morgan: [startled] Nancy?

Nancy: Is this a bad time? I know it’s late...I can come back another time. I just have so much on my mind and I can’t sleep.

Morgan: You want another reading?

Nancy: Is that ok?

Morgan: Of course it is, Nancy. Come in.

Morgan: Sorry for all the smoke. I can open a window.

Knox: Babe, who’s this? It’s not my birthday.

Morgan: [smirks] Want me to get rid of him? I can.

Knox: Hey! I’ll be quiet! Won’t even know I’m here.

Nancy: I don’t mind. I just had a question.

Nancy: Could you do a reading for someone else, even if they’re not here?

Morgan: [hums] Not really...not without their permission or their intention. Who is this person to you?

Nancy: [looks away] Someone from my past. Someone I need to forget but- I can’t.

Morgan: Did this person hurt you?

Nancy: [shakes head] If anything, I hurt them. I ruined them with my... [lowly] um, perversions. I just need to know if they’re ok. If they hate me for it.

Morgan: [softly] I see... Here’s what we’ll do. Just like before, I’ll do a three card spread.

Morgan: Set your intention. Clear your mind. Ask your question. The first card is ‘you’. The middle card is ‘them’. The third card is the relationship.

Nancy Narrates: [‘Vanessa, do you hate me?’ ‘Do you blame me?’ ‘Do you regret loving me?’ ‘Do you know that I never stopped loving you?’]

Nancy Narrates: [‘Do you know that I’m sorry?’ ‘Do you know that I miss you?’ ‘Do you know that I need you?’]

Morgan: [exhales] It says... that you are a filled with love, Nancy, even though the world around you wants to drain you of it. There’s just too much of it inside of you and your friend-

Nancy: [weakly] Vanessa.

Morgan: [smiles] Vanessa. She loves you all the same. She may be experiencing her own hurt in this world, but having loved you keeps her strong. You two brought something bright and beautiful into each other’s lives.

Morgan: You can’t rid her from your life, because she’s apart of you, and...I- I think that’s a love worth fighting for, Nancy.

Nancy: [between gulps] Right. Right, thank you. Thanks, Morgan.

Morgan: Wait, Nancy, you don’t have to leave. It’s ok-

Nancy: It’s fine. I uh- I should go.

[door clicks shut]

Knox: Uhh, did you just make all that up?

Morgan: [weakly] I don’t know why I did that..

#the art of being seen #the landgraabs #nancy landgraab #geoffrey landgraab #morgan fyres #knox greenburg #not an expert on tarot so I do hope I captured it accurately #🙏🏾🥹#sims 4 stories #sims 4 simblr #ts4 simblr #sims 4 #sims

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anniebeemine · 2 days

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I’d love to see dad Spencer finding out his teen daughter has a boyfriend and reader is just like “this is normal babe” and he’s just so that dad who doesn’t want his little girl to grow up

Spencer wasn’t sure when it had happened. One day, his daughter Eliza was running around the backyard, obsessed with dinosaurs and space, and the next, she was texting non-stop, staying up late on the phone, and hanging out with friends. She was growing up fast—too fast for his liking—and now, at sixteen, she’d hit him with something he was entirely unprepared for.

“So...I have a boyfriend,” Eliza said casually, looking down at her phone while sitting at the kitchen table.

Spencer nearly dropped his mug of coffee.

“What?” His voice came out sharper than he intended, and Eliza’s head snapped up to meet his wide-eyed stare. She bit her lip nervously, but her expression was mostly amused, like she had expected this kind of reaction.

“I said, I have a boyfriend, Dad,” she repeated, more slowly, as if that might make the shock easier to absorb. “His name’s Ethan, we’ve been texting for a couple weeks and...we’re going to a movie this weekend.”

Spencer felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. A boyfriend? His little girl had a boyfriend? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not yet. Not ever, if he had his way.

You, standing by the stove and flipping pancakes, glanced over at the scene unfolding. You were smiling softly, clearly not surprised by Eliza’s news, and you gave Spencer a knowing look as he struggled to find words.

Spencer had noticed the changes, of course. How could he not? Over the last few weeks, Eliza had been giggling at her phone more than usual, texting away with a grin that made him wonder what was so funny. She’d been asking to stay out an extra thirty minutes before he picked her up from her friend's house, her voice casual but always a little too hopeful. And then there was the way she was suddenly excited to go to school—something that used to take a lot more convincing, especially for early mornings.

But Spencer had brushed it off at the time, chalking it up to normal teenage behavior. Maybe she was just hanging out with her friends more. Maybe her classes had gotten more interesting. He hadn’t connected the dots.

Now, as she casually mentioned having a boyfriend, it hit him like a freight train.

He should have paid more attention.

He stood there, still holding his coffee, realizing that all those little signs had been pointing to this moment. The giggling, the extra time with her friends, the sudden enthusiasm for school—it all made sense now. Ethan.

“Eliza, when exactly did this start?” Spencer asked, trying to sound calm but knowing he wasn’t pulling it off.

Eliza shrugged, still scrolling through her phone. “A few weeks ago. It’s not that serious, Dad.”

Not that serious? His daughter had a boyfriend, and she was acting like it was just another Tuesday.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but you gave him a gentle nudge before he could start spiraling again. You’d been watching the whole thing unfold, a soft smile on your face as you watched your husband try to process this new chapter of parenthood.

“Spence,” you said gently, catching his attention, “it’s normal, you know.”

“Normal?” Spencer repeated, his voice incredulous as he turned to you. “Our daughter—our little girl—has a boyfriend, and that’s normal?”

You laughed softly, walking over to him and resting a hand on his arm. “Yes, it’s normal, babe. She’s a teenager. This was bound to happen at some point.”

“I wasn’t ready for this,” he mumbled, still staring at Eliza like she had just told him she was moving to another country. He thought back to all those little moments he hadn’t fully paid attention to—the way she’d been giggling at her phone, how she always seemed to be in a good mood after school. The puzzle pieces were coming together now.

Eliza, for her part, rolled her eyes but smiled, clearly amused by her dad’s overreaction. “Dad, relax. It’s not a big deal. Ethan’s nice.”

Spencer opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled, “Nice?”

You squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you meet him before jumping to any conclusions?”

Spencer was already shaking his head. “I don’t need to meet him. I know boys his age and they-"

“Spence,” you interrupted, shooting him a look. “Eliza’s smart. She’ll be fine. And besides, you trust her, right?”

Eliza gave him a hopeful smile. “Yeah, Dad. You trust me, don’t you?”

He hesitated. Of course, he trusted her—she was the most brilliant, thoughtful person he knew. But the idea of her being out there with a boyfriend, navigating relationships and the teenage world, it was overwhelming. She was still his little girl.

But he could see the way her eyes were watching him, waiting for his approval, and he couldn’t be the dad that held her back from growing up. With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders.

“I...I trust you, Eliza,” he said finally, though he still looked like he was struggling to come to terms with it. “But, uh...maybe I should meet this Ethan kid before your date.”

Eliza grinned, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Of course, Dad. I’ll make sure he’s ready for the interrogation.”

Spencer groaned, looking at you for support, and you just laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “See? Not so bad.”

“It feels bad,” Spencer muttered, though his heart was slowly warming to the idea. “Can’t she stay ten forever?”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Nope. But she’ll always be your little girl.”

And even though Spencer wasn’t entirely ready, he knew you were right. He watched Eliza happily texting away, already excited for her movie date, and couldn’t help but smile. He might not like it, but he’d be there to support her every step of the way, even if it meant meeting her first boyfriend with a million questions lined up.

Spencer nodded, though the reality was still sinking in. His little girl was no longer just the dinosaur-obsessed kid running through the backyard. She was becoming her own person, with her own life and experiences. And while he wasn’t quite ready for all the changes, he knew he’d be there for her, through every giggle and every milestone, even if it meant meeting Ethan and doing “the dad thing” with a nervous smile.

For now, though, he’d take a deep breath and try not to panic—too much.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reidx reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #fanfic

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allmoshnobrain · 13 hours

Text

You're a short girl, and sometimes that messes with your confidence. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to care at all, though.

✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, reader is short and it makes her a bit insecure

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing for anything other than metallica/megadeth/venom which is what i usually write for but i've been daydreaming a lot about this man and needed to get this out of my system 😭 also it was a great way to warm up and start writing again after my break!! hope u guys enjoy it 💖

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It takes him a while to pick up on your insecurity.

It's subtle, and honestly, he’s not exactly great with subtle. He fails, at first, to catch the way you pout, the way you frown whenever you see a hot actress who’s taller than you, or a long dress you think would look better on someone with a few more inches.

He finally catches on, though, one night when you’re cooking dinner. It’s kind of a slip up, really — a tiring day and your period cramps the worst they’ve been in the last few hours just making it easier for you to get upset over the smallest thing. So when you can’t reach one of the trays on the top shelf and have to ask him to grab it, he turns around to see you teary-eyed and upset, which is not how this usually goes.

“Love?” he asks, his brow furrowing when he sees your state “What’s wrong?” He glances at the glass tray in his hands. “Did I grab the wrong one?”

“What? No, no, it’s fine,” you mutter, his confused look quickly shifting into worry when he notices the tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” he quickly puts the tray down and gently grabs your chin. “Talk to me. What is it?”

He’s firm, straightforward but not harsh, which just makes you feel even more ridiculous for almost crying over something so dumb.

“I’m being silly,” you say, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t say that,” he mutters. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

That last part sounds almost like a command, his voice all firm and serious — something that would probably annoy you if he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned. You sigh.

“I wish I was taller,” you whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but he does. Of course he does.

“You wish you were taller?” he repeats, now more confused than worried. “Why?”

“I just don’t want to feel useless, always needing your help,” you half-lie, because that’s not really it. And of course, Simon knows — he always does. You can tell by the way he raises his eyebrow slightly at you, disarming you instantly. “I wish I was prettier,” you finally mutter.

“You are pretty,” he says slowly, like he’s still trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “You’re beautiful. And I like helping you.”

“But tall girls are… More beautiful,” you sniffle, and he snorts.

“Who said that?”

“I said,” you frown. “Like, every time I see a cute dress that’s too long, I just think I can’t wear it. It won’t look right on me. I always feel like I can only look cute, but sometimes I want to look, I don’t know, gorgeous. Tall girls just always seem to look gorgeous to me, and I...”

“Oh, shush,” Simon grumbles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking at him. “You are gorgeous. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. And I like you small — easier to hold.”

You can’t help but laugh. It’s shaky, and you try to hold it back, wanting to stay in your little pity party a bit longer. I mean, seriously, what does he mean by "you’re gorgeous" when you feel the exact opposite?

"Easier to hold?" you say, trying to sound offended but failing as a giggle slips out.

"There she is," he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you realize you’re smiling. "My girl. Don’t be upset, love. You don’t need to be taller to be pretty. And if you ever need to reach for something, well, that’s what I’m here for."

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you tease. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Goddammit, woman. Will you quit trying to convince me you’re not beautiful? It’s not happening,” he frowns, then leans in, pressing a small, tender kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around you are comfortable, warm and firm and feel like home.

It never fails to disarm you, how soft he can be. Out of the blue, always when you’re not really expecting it. Just when you think you’ve finally managed to annoy him or maybe this is the time he’s gonna get tired of you. He never fails to prove you wrong.

He never fails to prove that he loves you, just the way you are.

#you can rip the big strong men being soft for their lovers trope out of my cold dead hands #ada writes fanfiction #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader

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writing-for-life · 1 day

Text

Sandman Sneak Peek Analysis

There is Brief Lives in this, but you’ll miss it if you blink…

Is everyone recovering? 🤣

So we obviously got our fill of thirst traps, but I wanted to analyse the sneak peek (click to watch) a bit more closely.

Many people were commenting they only see Season of Mists and Song of Orpheus in the clip, but I don’t think that’s true. We obviously don’t know what exactly they did to the arcs and what might have changed, but I still predict that the first batch will be Season of Mists and Brief Lives (with other stuff thrown in, I wrote about it here). [I think we also saw a clip from Thermidor in the sneak peek, and that Lady Johanna Constantine was in it, but that just as an aside.]

So let’s start with stills I think are definitely from

Brief Lives

I honestly think it’s this (they’re lighting his face from below for a campfire effect, there are candles etc):

I think this could be Ruby’s/Wanda’s death/the fire. It’s really hard to see, but that could be Indya Moore sleeping? Let me know what you think…

Then this one:

I bet my bottom dollar this is Suffragette City and Ishtar’s dance. Now, the bottom panel is a tricky one because in the sneak peek, it’s actually right after the shot of (presumed) Wanda, so my initial response was it’s the fire. But the curtains look exactly the same as in the one with Ishtar’s dance, plus I think the glass is also in both shots. Which makes me think they either just put those scenes randomly together in the clip despite them being separate, OR that they changed the arc a bit and pulled Wanda/Ruby and Ishtar’s dance together. Either way, we’re definitely in Brief Lives I think.

What else?

Season of Mists

I cackled like a lunatic when I saw this. IYKYK, but I somehow didn’t expect them to give us that one. Hurray (or not, depending on whether you like spiders I guess 🤣)

Angels looking modern…

Shame really, I wouldn’t have minded a more comics accurate look, but hey. Also: Is that your man Edward, @marlowe-zara ? Hard to tell from this angle, but I think it could be?

That’s also Andre Flynn in the background (also an Angel then).

Shivering Jemmy with the balloon! 🎈 If she doesn’t dump it on Dream, I’m gonna riot!

These ones with Lucienne are hard to place, and they could be anything, but they somehow give me stronger Season of Mists than Brief Lives vibes, although both is possible.

I have a hunch it’s this one:

Then there’s naturally all the obvious stuff (Cluracan, Susano-o-No-Mikoto, the family dinner etc etc), but I don’t think I have to get into those because they jump out at us straightaway.

More in the realm of

Casting

I think that might be Ella Rumpf as Eurydice, @tickldpnk8 What do you think?

This is definitely Wil Coban, but who he? Fae (the ears suggest so much)?

So what’s everyone thinking?

#the sandman #sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus #netflix the sandman #netflix sandman #sandman netflix #lucienne #lucienne the librarian #sandman season 2 #sandman s2 #sandman spoilers

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 days

Text

Words: 7,252 (oof, this one got long!) Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: largely unspecified (but Negan does refer to reader as doll and darling which could be considered more feminine terms of endearment) Warnings: language haha, frightening scenarios, references to past violence Summary: Months have now passed since Y/N began taking on Negan as a "project" and the reader suggests an even longer run outside the walls. A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Negan Master List. Previous Part here! “It’s been months,” you said. “There hasn’t been a single time that I’ve felt unsafe, and both of you know I never let my guard down.”

Daryl was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was serious but largely unreadable. Michonne leaned forward on the table, considering your words.

“We need to think long-term here. Are we just going to keep him locked up forever? Or is there some version of this where he gets out and either integrates as much as possible or—or goes on his way?”

Michonne sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure any of us have the answer to that yet,” she said.

“I know. I still don’t,” you said. “I’m not sure what the future looks like for him, but I know we have to do more than just letting him out to pick tomatoes every once in a while. So, that’s what I’m doing. And with you two stuck here dealing with the wall and the kids—and the pantry and medical supplies starting to run low, well… let’s kill two birds with one stone.”

Daryl sighed and straightened up. “I ain’t gonna say I like it, but I trust ya and I’ve seen your judgment play out too many times to doubt it. If ya think it’ll be alrigh’, then—well, ‘m good with it. But ya gotta show us exactly where you’ll be and when to expect ya back in case we need to come lookin’.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll mark it all on the map. We should be able to make it out and back in a single long day. Leave early. Get back late.”

“And no weapons for him unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Michonne emphasized.

“Of course,” you agreed.

“Alright,” Michonne nodded. “When will you go?”

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I’ll get everything ready today.”

“I’ll walk ya out,” Daryl drawled, watching as you grabbed your bag and shouldered it. “Listen—” he started.

You looked over at him and smiled, already knowing you were about to get a worried Daryl Dixon lecture. “Mhm?” you prompted him.

“The hell are ya smirkin’ about?” he growled, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Go ahead.”

“Well—if somethin’ happens out there… if it comes down to you or him…” he trailed off.

Your brow furrowed deeply now to match his. “It won’t,” you said seriously.

He shifted anxiously. “But if it does…”

“Daryl. It’s not going to,” you insisted.

He relented and nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. C’mere.” He pulled you into a hug and you smiled as he folded you up against him. “I just want ya to be safe, is all.” “I know. I will,” you agreed.

He nodded, pulling back. “Wish I could go with ya… I’d feel better about it.”

“I know. But it’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re shitting me, right?” Negan said, his breakfast still in his hand, not a single bite taken.

You stared at him and then let out a dry laugh. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” you said.

“Well, shit. I mean… a real scavenging trip? That’s what you’re saying?” Negan said. He ran a hand back through his hair and stood, pacing a tight circle in his cell. “Who else is going?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why? Someone specific you want me to invite? Want me to ask your old pal Gabriel? Or wait—Eugene?”

He laughed but looked vaguely shocked. “Well, I’m sorry but I’m just—a little fuckin’ surprised, doll.” You’d eased some on scolding Negan for the pet names over the last few weeks and generally just ignored them now unless it was something really egregious. (You’d nearly hit him for calling you ‘princess’ one day, so he had at least not tried that again.) He seemed to enjoy taking full advantage of you turning a deaf ear to them now. “Just you and me? Out there?” he clarified.

“You and I have already been out there alone how many times, hmm? I don’t see why this should be any different,” you said, digging around in your pack.

“Well, it’s farther. I mean, farther for you to get help if—”

You straightened up and fixed a skeptical gaze on him. “If what? If you suddenly decide to attempt to murder me? Attack me? Steal the car and leave me out there? I’ll still be armed and you won’t. Besides, I’ve been through more shit out there than—”

He laughed again. “I was just gonna say in case any number of bad fuckin’ things happens out there. And we both know that they do.”

“Yeah. You used to be one of those bad things, remember?” you shot back quickly. He sighed at your deflection and you couldn’t help but laughing. “I am having to sell this harder to you than I did to Michonne and Daryl. What is going on? What are you worried about?”

“I’m not worried! Although, it would be fuckin’ nice to have something to defend myself with in case of the dead or unexpected assholes…”

“ ‘Unexpected Assholes’?” you repeated. “What is that, your one man play?” you quipped. “Let me guess—you’ll be playing yourself.”

Negan couldn’t resist a hearty laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s good. You’re fuckin’ hilarious as usual, doll.” But he looked serious again the next moment. “Anyway, about me having some way to defend myself…”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” you said lazily. “I’ll let you have, like, a stick if you want,” you smirked. He only stared back at you. “I told you that I’ll protect you! You think I’m just gonna let a walker wander up and bite you?” There was a thick silence for a moment where he just stared back at you.

“I’m not worried about one walker. I’m worried about all the random, rogue shit that can happen out there.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to trust me! Do you not want to go or what?” you pressed him, perplexed at his reaction.

He paused, drew in a deep breath, and let it out. Then that damn smirk showed back up on his face, sending his hazel eyes sparkling. “Are you asking if I want to go spend some quality time alone with you? Just the two of us? No one to interrupt… Completely at your mercy for whatever you may decide to do with me… or to me…”

You rolled your eyes, catching onto his tone immediately. “That could include killing you,” you cautioned him, eliciting a low laugh from him. You hated that the deep gravel of it gave you goosebumps. You did your best to ignore it.

“I don’t know… I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get away with me where nobody can easily interrupt us,” Negan said. “I mean, shit. No need hide your true intentions from me,” he grinned. “I am absolutely 110% on board with that. Use me all you want, doll,” he grinned, now gripping the bars of his cell door. “God, I’d love to be fuckin’ used by you.”

You crossed your arms and fixed a stern look on him, hoping that your face wasn’t flushing bright red. You cleared your throat. “Sounds more like wishful thinking on your part. It’s a scavenging run, Negan, not a fucking romantic getaway,” you said.

“Are you sure you said that right? I think you meant romantic fucking getaway. Emphasis on the—”

“Negan! Stop! I will cancel this whole thing! Jesus Christ!”

That shit-eating grin was still on his face and he laughed again, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Alright, alright. I’m done. I think…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Scavenging. Run.” you repeated.

“Yeah, we’ll see, doll. We’ll see. So, where are we going exactly?”

You forged ahead, ignoring his last comments in favor of moving on. “There are some old houses and other structures we’ve only ever done a cursory search of. Probably not going to make a huge score but there’s always something left behind, something hidden. But who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky,” you said.

“Fuck me, I’d love to get lucky…” he laughed again.

“Negan!” you exclaimed again.

“Alright! I’m sorry,” he chuckled.

“So, are you in?” you asked, slightly exasperated.

The two of you were separated by only the iron bars and a small buffer of space, hardly a foot. He was still smiling at you and you hated that the thought that he was handsome flickered through your mind. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought it—but the thought always surprised you, like it came from somewhere outside of yourself, not by your conjuration alone. “Fuck yes, I’m in,” he answered, interrupting your thoughts.

“You promise to listen to everything I say? If I tell you to run, if I tell you to hide—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I promise,” he said, smiling. “If I don’t, you’ll shoot me in the fuckin’ knee or some shit. Can we skip the pep talk?”

You gave him a stern look but unlocked his cell and tossed him the spare pack you’d brought. You dug into your own bag and handed him some supplies, including some outerwear. He tucked them into his bag and looked up at you expectantly. “Where to, warden?”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the tiniest smirk. “Car is right outside. Let’s get going. The sun is starting to come up and it could be a long day.”

“Great. Can I drive?” he quipped, shouldering his bag. You only shot him a look that made him laugh again, but he saw the slight curve at the corners of your mouth.

The drive to the crumbling ruins of the neighborhood was slow, but uneventful. The sun was up and filtering through the trees overhead as you and Negan climbed out and started toward the buildings. You were quiet, focused, and Negan couldn’t help admiring your efficiency and care as you went about your mission.

The two of you stopped at the edge of the crumbling street, concealed in some taller brush. The street was overgrown with weeds and lined with dilapidated houses. It was almost eerily quiet.

“Alright,” you breathed quietly. “We’ll go building by building, down one side and back up the other. Pay attention to signs of walkers or people,” you said softly, gripping the straps of your pack. “Follow my lead and stay close.”

“You got it,” Negan replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as he followed alongside you toward the first house. “I gotta say, it is really uncomfortable being out here without a damn weapon. More so here than in the woods,” he commented, his eyes shifting around to study the other buildings, scrutinizing for a sign of movement. “I feel like I’m naked,” he said.

“I guarantee—” You paused to tap on the wall of the house the two of you were standing beside, listening for anything inside. “You’re not. If you were naked, I would not be this fuckin’ calm, Negan,” you said, half-distracted.

He chuckled and licked his bottom lip, smirking.

“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think that sounded how you meant it to sound,” he laughed.

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh, shut up. You know what I meant!”

“Your brain is saying one thing but your lips are sayin’ another, darlin’,” he teased you.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the front door open, stepping cautiously inside. The smell was of mildew and stagnant air as you stepped inside. A heavy layer of dust and dirt coated everything; overturned furniture, books standing or tipped over on shelves, a stately chair still positioned in front of the fireplace. Somewhere deeper in the house, water was dripping. You had your gun out and started clearing the lower floors. Negan ghosted behind you.

You made for the staircase to check the upstairs when there was a soft thump overhead. Your eyes and Negan’s went to the ceiling.

“Alright… maybe someone is home after all,” he commented, giving you a concerned look.

“It’s gotta be a walker,” you said. “Maybe an animal.” You proceeded cautiously toward the staircase.

“Hey,” Negan said softly. “Be careful.”

You turned and looked at him for a long moment before you started up the stairs. He seemed genuinely on edge, worried. He stayed right on your heels as you climbed the steps, the muscle in his jaw tensed as his teeth clenched together.

You cleared two bedrooms and finally came to a closed door at the end of the hall. As the floor creaked under your boots, there was the sound of more movement behind the door. You reached for the door knob, gun ready in your other hand. You took a deep breath and quickly turned it shoving the door open and aiming the muzzle of your pistol inside.

An opossum let out an angry hiss and then scrambled up and out of a broken window. It had been rooting around in some debris on the floor. A huge sigh of relief escaped you and Negan watched your shoulders sag. You laughed a little as you turned to look back at Negan. He gave you a relieved look.

“I gotta be honest,” he said. “I fuckin’ hate this shit. I feel completely helpless without something to use if something bad happens. What am I supposed to do if you need help?”

You gave him a somewhat sympathetic look, thinking about how it would feel to be in his place—the unknown behind every locked door with no knife, no gun… completely vulnerable and reliant on someone who was essentially his jailor. “Well,” you said. “I have a feeling if something really did go wrong, you’d figure something out.”

He considered your words for a moment. “Yeah. I hope so.” He thought about what he would do. What if they ran into some bad men? Bad people? What would he really do if you were in danger? He didn’t have to think hard to know the answer. Anything. He’d do anything he needed to. The thought seemed to dig deep into the center of his chest and sit there, heavy. “So, now what? House is clear.”

You holstered your gun again. “Now, we search. See if there’s anything left. A lot of people hid things, right after. There’s always something left behind. You take the upstairs. I’ll go through the downstairs.”

Negan nodded his agreement and turned back to the trashed bathroom, the sound of your steps fading away down the staircase. He searched every room, every cabinet, every closet, under beds, under loose floorboards, but came away with nothing of interest except for half a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He headed downstairs where he could hear you rummaging around in the living room. “Hey,” he greeted you, stepping over the threshold. You were standing completely frozen now at the shelves, looking down at something. “Y/N?” he said again. You still didn’t seem to have heard him. He wandered closer. “Find something?”

You startled a little and turned to look at him, a picture frame in your hand. “Oh. No, not really. You?”

“Half a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I stuck it in my pack.” He nodded toward the frame. “What’s that?”

You looked down at it again. “It’s nothing. It’s just this—this family portrait. I wonder if they lived here—” you said thoughtfully. Your voice seemed to drift away a little. “Or what happened to them, you know? Did they make it? Were they ever safe again after the outbreak?”

Negan looked on with a thoughtful expression, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes. He nodded and moved closer to get a better view of the photo behind the cracked glass. He smiled at it, chuckling a little. “Hmm. Mom, Dad, and three kids. A perfect nuclear family,” he said.

“Looks like the 90s,” you laughed. “Check out the clothes.”

“Yeah, they probably went down to JCPenney to take advantage of the fancy photography studio,” Negan remarked. “Dad looks like an accountant, doesn’t he?”

“Mmm, I’m getting more of a bank manager vibe. Mom probably stayed at home when the kids were little and then goes back to work as a teacher once the youngest is in kindergarten,” you replied, now smiling a little too.

Negan ran a hand back through his hair thoughtfully and cocked his head. “You know—I was a teacher,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never really told anyone that since things went to shit. Kind of lessens the mystique,” he laughed dryly.

Your eyes snapped over to his face, one of your eyebrows arching gracefully with the question on your face. He laughed again. “Yeah, I know… hard to believe, right? How could such an asshole be a teacher?” he said.

A slight wince flickered across your face for a brief second at his words, as if you didn’t like the way he’d talked about himself. But that couldn’t be right… “What did you teach?”

“I was a high school P.E. teacher,” he said. “Coached some of the school teams too. Basketball. Football.”

“P.E.?” you repeated. “And you’re not even going to make a ‘physical education’ joke?” you teased him. “Wow. Are you feeling okay?”

He laughed lightly. “You beat me to it,” he said. He glanced back at the picture and sighed. “Should we get going? Lots of buildings to search,” he said.

You nodded and stared down at the picture for another moment.

“What’re you doing?” Negan asked, watching you take the back off the picture frame. You fumbled with the backing and then removed the family photo from the damaged frame.

“I just—feel like someone should remember them, you know?”

Negan’s gaze was fixed on you, flickering over your face. There was something so soft in it at that moment that you felt slightly unbalanced. You distracted yourself by bending to slip the photo into your pack. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said gently.

You deflected, laughing as you shouldered your pack again. “Oh, you’ve got no idea,” you said sarcastically, again ignoring the heat in your face. “Come on.”

The two of you went on, searching each home and several stores, working your way down the block and partway up the next. You’d managed some good finds, including a hidden cellar that clearly had belonged to a survivalist type (who had apparently “opted out” and his corpse still watched over the hidden entrance). You’d have to make a few trips to the car in order to get all the supplies and gear back, or otherwise figure out a way to get the car in through the overgrown side road. The two of you piled the finds in a safe place in one of the rooms on the main floor, stacking Rubbermaid tubs full of helpful items in neat piles.

“Fuck me,” Negan sighed, setting the last one on top. “Well, when you’re right, you’re fuckin’ right, doll. There’s always somethin’ left behind.”

You wiped at the sweat near your hairline. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Not bad.” You had a satisfied smile on your face. It felt good to do something concrete that would help people back home. You glanced out the window, assessing the light outside. It’d taken quite some time to get things moved up from the cellar and you wondered if you should keep searching the rest of the houses or call it a day. “I think it’s starting to get late,” you said, remarking mainly on the way the light already seemed like it was fading.

“Mmm,” Negan hummed, going to the front bay window and looking out. His eyes had been searching the street all day, vigilant, as if waiting for some psychos to suddenly burst out of one of the houses. But the only signs of inhabitation or squatting you’d found were clearly from long before, now covered in dust and debris or otherwise moldering in damp corners or on top of filthy mattresses. Now, as you were busy drinking from your canteen, Negan’s shifting suddenly stopped. “Hey, doll—I’m no meteorologist, but those clouds look like bad fuckin’ news.” It had been overcast all day, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that this was something else.

You capped your canteen and went to the front door, your brow now furrowed heavily to match his. You pulled the door open and peered at the sky. Ominous didn’t even begin to cover it. There was not a sniff of wind at the moment and the air seemed to hum with electricity. Negan appeared next to you in the doorway, squinting at the low and heavy sky.

“I’m pretty sure when the sky turns fuckin’ green, there’s some bad shit coming,” he said. He glanced over at you.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, green sky is… tornado weather. Fuck,” you muttered, glancing back at the pile of supplies.

“What do you want to do?” Negan asked.

You sighed, pushing a hand back through your hair. “Even if we head back to the car now, we probably can’t outrun that… the old highway is FUBAR in some places. It’s not like we can drive 60 mph all the way back to Alexandria. And that would mean leaving all these supplies here.” As if on cue, the complete stillness in the air broke as a rushing wind approached like a tidal wave, creaking and cracking in the trees and swirling dust and dried leaves across the open ground until it reached the two of you standing on the porch. Your hair lifted and blew back from your face.

“I’ll ask you again,” Negan said, speaking louder now over the roar of the wind, “what do you want to do?”

You hesitated, glancing from him back to the quickly approaching menacing clouds. The little light left was fading fast. “Fuck,” you muttered again. “I—I think we’re better off weathering it here than in a car out there,” you said.

“I definitely agree with that,” Negan said.

“Once the storm clears, maybe then we can try to get the car in here and load up the supplies and get home. We’ll be delayed a bit longer than expected but—I think it’s the best move. Hopefully, we’re just stuck a couple more hours.”

Negan nodded. “Alright. Where are we holing up? Because this shit is about to kick the fuck off,” he said, surveying the street again.

“Here is as good a place as any,” you said. “There’s a basement and almost all the windows are intact or boarded up. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Negan followed you in and shut the door on the wind. Your eyes were already on him when he turned around again. He was trying to decode your expression but it was largely unreadable. He unshouldered his pack and set it on the floor, taking a seat on the stairs across from where you were now leaning up against the wall. The ambient light from outside was quickly waning and before long you could hear raindrops start to pound the roof. They increased in size and then seemed to be blowing across the roof in waves of water.

You could hear the huge cottonwood trees creaking and cracking in the wind. You tried to peer out through the boarded slats over the window to see if they were dropping branches but it was too dark. Behind you, Negan pulled out a flashlight from his pack and clicked it on. It had grown extremely dark with the heavy storm clouds gathering and unleashing the torrents of rain. You were still standing right by the window, looking out, when he spoke again.

“Hey, maybe we should move away from the windows, doll,” Negan said, worried. He didn’t like how close you were standing to all that glass, even if it was mostly boarded over. His voice was deep and resonant in the space between you with just the raging background noise outside.

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said. You bent to grab your pack when you suddenly heard a loud thud against the side of the house. You straightened up, your eyes widening. Negan had heard it too, his eyes were narrowed, ears strained, listening. It was difficult to hear anything over the storm.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice breathy. “Some debris blowing against the house?” you asked.

Negan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, standing from his place on the steps and going to the doorway of the room the sound had seemed to come from. The roaring storm seemed to reach new extremes. The wind sounded like a train bearing down on the little dilapidated structure the two of you were sheltering in. Rain and hail lashed the siding and the roof. There was another thud from outside, this time on the window.

“There. Again,” you said, anxiously pacing toward Negan to stare into the room. His flashlight was still on. Another thud, and then another. You squinted, trying to distinguish anything through the boarded windows but it was too dark. Then, a flash of lightning shot the sky outside with blinding white and you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left you at what it illuminated.

“What?” Negan asked urgently.

You couldn’t speak. You just reached for the flashlight. Negan looked down as your hand landed on top of his. He could feel you trembling slightly and for a moment he was so shocked by your touch that he didn’t understand what you were doing. With your gentle grip, you directed the yellow beam of the light slowly to the window. As it came to rest between two of the boards and shone through the glass, Negan registered that there were walkers clawing to get in, rotting faces pressed to the glass, bloody fingertips, snapping teeth. Dozens. “Ho-ly fuck!” he exclaimed, jerking the flashlight off the window and quickly shutting it off. You and Negan stood in the dark for a moment, neither of you moving, now keenly aware of the pounding noise and dull thuds on the exterior of the house, cutting through the wind and rain. Were you imagining it or was the pounding increasing, getting louder? More frequent? Negan could hear your breath beside him in the dark. “Well, that shit was straight out of a fuckin’ horror movie,” he remarked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “Where the fuck did they come from? It sounds like we’re surrounded.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Seems like they rolled in with the storm.”

“Maybe they can feel the barometric pressure changes or something. It’s almost like a migration,” you commented, feeling your heart rate and breathing finally start to slow down after the shock of discovering the herd.

Negan chuckled beside you and you heard him shift. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Eugene?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Okay… so, now we just have the storm of the century and a fucking herd to deal with. Great. Okay… let’s think…”

Negan finally clicked his flashlight on again but kept it pointed at the floor. “This place seems sturdy but maybe we should barricade ourselves better.”

You glanced toward the basement where you’d discovered the hidden cellar. Your eyes next drifted toward the stack of supplies. “Basement is pretty much ready to barricade thanks to that dead survivalist guy, but if they do break in we could be trapped down there for fuck-knows how long.”

“Not sure we have any better options. We don’t want to be upstairs either. We’re sure as shit not going out on the roof in this if they get in and if there is a fucking tornado and we're on the top floor—” Negan broke off.

“Yeah,” you agreed, nodding. You dug into your own pack and pulled out a headlamp, quickly turning it on dimly. “Grab some of these. They have food and medical supplies, some other gear and odds and ends,” you said, grabbing one of the many Rubbermaid containers and heading toward the stairs down to the basement.

“Man, I’m so glad we carried all this shit up here,” Negan joked, picking up a stack of two big containers.

“Sorry. Next time I’ll consult my crystal ball,” you quipped, but right then there was the sound of shattering glass and the storm and the growling got slightly louder. One of the windows in the next room had broken. Negan could see hands and fingers reaching in around the boards.

“Let’s go. Downstairs,” he urged you, his voice intense and thick with concern.

You started down, but shot back at him over your shoulder. “Aren’t I the one in charge here?”

“I don’t see you disagreeing with that idea,” Negan said, setting his containers down beside yours. “Stay here. I’ll go grab a couple more boxes,” he said.

“Whoa. Me stay here? What is this? You don’t even have a weapon!” you argued.

He gave you an exasperated look. “Fine. Then by all means, come with me, darlin’!” He turned and rushed back up the stairs and you had to hurry after him, one hand on your knife in its sheath.

“Negan,” you snapped at him in a low voice as you rounded the doorway back onto the main floor. But he wasn’t by the supplies. You glanced around and could see the dim glow of his light in the next room, the one where the walkers had broken a window. Rain and the occasional hailstone were puddling under the window among the shards of glass. “What the fuck?” You nearly collided with each other when he turned around and started back toward the door. “What are you doing?! Put that down!” you growled.

He had an iron fireplace poker in his hand. That’s what he’d been doing in this room, grabbing it from the set of fireplace tools. “Don’t you think this qualifies as kind of a capital “E” emergency?” he argued.

You stared at him, intense, your chest heaving, and to your annoyance, he smiled at you.

“Goddamn. You look fuckin’ hot as shit when you’re pissed off! I mean, you’re always hot but ho-ly shit! I'm scared and suddenly all tingly downtown!”

Your hand went purposefully to your knife again and you stared him down. “I said. Put it. The fuck. Down.”

“Doll, just hear me out—”

“Negan.”

Another crack and the sound of shattering glass behind him and you saw more arms reaching through between the boards of another window. “Okay, we don’t have time for this right now. You can stab me or whatever downstairs,” he said. He breezed past you and grabbed a couple more boxes of supplies. You had no choice but to begrudgingly follow after him.

He turned, straightening up as he heard your boots hitting the bottom steps, and he opened his mouth to say something, but you were already on him before he could get even a syllable out.

You kicked him hard on the inside of one of his thighs and he dropped sideways onto his knee. The poker dropped from his hand and rang out on the cement floor. You kicked it away and it slid into the far wall with a harsh scraping sound. Your knife was unsheathed and pointed at the base of his throat before he knew what was happening. To your amazement, once he recovered from his pained grimaces, he fucking smiled again.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” he asked in a low, gruff voice.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. When I brought you out here, you said you would listen to every fucking thing I told you to do. This is your one single second chance. Next time you fuck up, it’ll be my knife going into your thigh instead of my boot. Got it?”

He gulped, still on one knee at the point of your knife and still, to your annoyance, vaguely smiling. “Oh, I got it,” he responded, his eyebrows lifting.

“Good,” you said, backing off and letting him stand up. “Now, go pick up the fucking poker. I’m gonna lock up the door…”

“Wait‚ what?” Negan laughed, still rubbing at his leg where you’d kicked him. “After all that, you’re letting me have it?”

“Yes,” you said. “This does roughly qualify as an emergency. Or at least, the border of one. But those kinds of decisions? They’re not yours to make, Negan. You’re not the one in charge here.”

He looked both stunned and amused. “That is becoming more and more clear every fuckin’ day,” he said softly, looking at you with some expression you couldn’t completely discern.

You gave him a perplexed look and then headed up the stairs to seal up the door. There were heavy brackets on the back of the reinforced door (thank you, dead survivalist man) and you spotted a thick board leaning up against the railing. Once you’d closed and locked it, you heaved up the heavy wooden slat and dropped it into place in the brackets, adding extra security in case the walkers did get inside and try to push through. As you removed your hand hastily to head back downstairs, a jagged corner on one of the metal brackets sliced into your palm. You jerked it back and stared as a long crimson gash began to leak fat drops of blood onto the steps below you. You pulled in a hiss of breath through your teeth. “Great,” you sighed, cradling it in the other hand and trotting back down. Overhead, you could hear the storm still raging, but as a low hum now.

Negan stood up from his seat on one of the containers of supplies as soon as he saw you. A concerning amount of shockingly red blood was dripping off your hand and onto the floor. “What happened?” he asked, moving closer as you attempted to dig into your pack with your other hand, blood now running down your forearm. “Jesus, let me help you!” He grabbed your pack away and dug around inside until he found a small kit with spare bits of cloth for bandaging, some gauze pads, and a few other assorted odds and ends for first aid. “Wait, I’ve got that alcohol in my pack. We should clean it up first.”

“It’ll be fine,” you argued, pulling off your headlamp and watching as Negan clicked on a lantern he’d found in one of the boxes.

“Would you let me help you with this at least? Can I? Please? I’m asking permission now,” he joked, shooting you a goading expression.

You cocked your head at him and tried to look annoyed, but you conceded, taking a seat on a plastic container across from him.

Negan dug out the alcohol and poured a generous amount out onto your palm. You gritted your teeth together at the burn and winced. “Sorry,” he said, pressing a gauze pad down over it, holding it gently on his own hand now. “But better than an infection, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling strangely on edge with your hand in his.

Negan used some of the long, clean strips of cloth to bandage it up and hold the gauze in place, tying it securely but gently before relinquishing his hold on you. “Should have the doc take a look at that when we get back,” he said. “Pretty deep. Might need some stitches on that one.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said, finally sighing as you suddenly realized how tired you were. Now that you felt more secure and safe, a strange thing with Negan sitting a mere foot away from you with no dividing bars between, the adrenaline had run out. Exhaustion was starting to set in. You took stock of the space. Your eyes wandered from the door into the hidden cellar where you’d found most of the supplies, back to the corpse of the survivalist in the far corner, over to the boxes next to Negan.

He was putting the first aid stuff back into your pack when his fingers nudged something and he paused; a thick stack of glossy photos. He pulled them out, curious. On top was the first one, the one in the very first house that the two of you had talked about, but there were more along with it now—many more. He flipped through a couple until you noticed and shifted where you were sitting. His hazel eyes lifted up to your face. “These are all from today?” he asked.

You nodded and tried to clear the sudden lump in your throat.

“You kept them? All of them?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He sighed, shaking his head vaguely, and thumbed through more; families on vacations, some guy holding a big fish, a young couple smiling in front of the Statue of Liberty, babies and kids and dogs and cats, an elderly couple posing in front of a studio background.

Your voice suddenly cut into him. “Did you ever stop to think that every person you put under your bat, they probably had photos like this? Were in photos like this?” you said suddenly. A particularly loud rumble of thunder boomed and rolled, as if on cue. Your eyes, clear and steady and striking even in the low glow of the lantern, felt like they were seeing straight into his core.

He frowned. The lines on his face seemed to become more pronounced, and he almost cringed. “No,” he answered honestly, the gravel in his voice heavy and gritty. “I didn’t think about it at all, most of the time. I think that was a lot of what I was doing. Not thinking. I know that's a shit fuckin' excuse. It's not an excuse... but I didn’t—want to think about the hard stuff.”

You were curious, interested, and felt that same vulnerability he seemed to be giving you more and more rolling off him in waves. “Like what?”

He gave you a sad smile. You could hear the wind whistling above you and the pounding of the rain. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

But now you were the one to back away, ducking your head, avoiding his eyes. Negan saw that there was hurt there, deep hurt. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” you murmured, fiddling with the bandage on your palm. “I mean, I’m not…”

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Negan replied, “you don’t owe me a damn thing. But can I tell you somethin’, doll?” He hesitated for a moment. “I—I like you. You kicked the shit out of me and held a knife to my throat about ten minutes ago and I still really like you. Genuinely. As a person, as a badass, as a—”

“Negan—” you interrupted him.

“If I had to be trapped in a basement with a corpse, a tornado and herd outside, I can’t think of another person I’d rather be stuck with,” he said.

“Negan—” you tried again.

“No, listen to me. I’m trying to tell you—”

“You don’t like me, okay? You just feel that way because I’m the only person who really talks to you, who spends time with you, who brings you your meals, and looks after some fraction of your well-being. It’s like—it’s like trauma bonding, okay? That’s all it is.”

“No. It’s not just that. See Gabe was doin’ all that same shit and I still didn’t fuckin’ like him… I mean, not as much as I like you.”

As usual, when what you were feeling was becoming overwhelming, too many thoughts, too many emotions, you deflected with humor. “I’m cuter than Gabriel.”

Negan laughed and this time the sound was warm and almost comforting. “Yeah. No argument there…”

You allowed yourself a half-smile and then sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. “Fuck, I’m tired. What a long fucking day…”

“There are those sleeping bags in one of these boxes I think,” Negan said, starting to pull at the lids.

You laughed. “I can’t sleep,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Besides the insane storm outside and the horde? Uhh… I don’t know, you?” you offered, your tone a little sardonic.

But Negan’s face was perfectly serious. “The storm and the horde—can’t do shit about those companions and I agree that they are crappy house guests, but they’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere soon from what I can hear. That’s not changing whether you’re asleep or awake. As for me—” he tilted his head and gave you an appraising look, “I do not want to hurt you. And I won’t. And I’m not running away with the dickhole party outside so, you may as well catch some shut-eye. I’ll keep watch.”

You considered him for a long moment but finally shook your head. “No. No, I can’t sleep now…”

Negan sighed and rested the fireplace poker across his knees. “Well, then I’d say it’s going to be a long night… Got any ideas about how to pass the time?”

The mischievous sparkle came back into his eyes and you shot him a stern look that was apparently not enough of a deterrent. “Don’t—”

“We still do have those sleeping bags. I can think of some activities for a makeshift bed that don’t involve actual sleep.”

“Negan, there’s literally a corpse in the corner and a horde outside and that’s where your mind goes?”

He laughed. “Can you blame me? I’ve been in jail for, how long now? Five, six years? And trust me, Gabey Baby wasn’t giving me any action.” He paused at the look on your face, laughing again. “Come on, doll. I’m just kidding. Though it would help pass the time, you deserve far better than a sleeping bag on a dirty basement floor.”

“With a dead guy watching,” you added.

“With a dead guy watching,” he repeated, scratching absently at the stubble on his face. “That is pretty fuckin’ metal though,” he smirked.

“Negan, saying that I deserve better than that is really saying nothing. Anyone deserves better than that,” you sighed, standing up and pacing. “So yeah. I’d say it’s going to be a long night.”

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