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outerbankslut · 4 years

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Childhood Friends... Pope Heyward

Summary • You have been in love with Pope Heyward since you first met him when you were younger. But there’s one or two problems. Or so you think. He doesn’t like you. Does he?

Warnings • Swearing. Underage drinking.

Word Count • 3.3k (Imagine)

Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine, let me know if it’s yours)

AT EIGHT YEARS old you first met Pope Heyward. The concept of Outer Banks at such a young age seemed like a dream for you. Never ending beaches. Hot weather practically all the time. Surfing and swimming at your beck and call. It was a stark change from living in Minnesota.

The house you moved into was a small two story house next to one almost identical. And the day you had moved in a boy came knocking at the door. He seemed around your age and held a pie dish in his hands seemingly quite nervous. Your parents were upstairs unpacking so you opened the door hoping maybe you could make a friend.

"My mum made me bring this pie for you since we’re neighbours, here you go." He kept his eyes trained on the ground then handing you the pie and scurrying back home before you could even take a breath. Your face dropped as he ran off but you felt determined to make him a friend, after all you were neighbours so how hard could it be since you'd see him almost all the time.

A few days later your mum wanted to buy some groceries rather than living off of takeaway food for any longer and opted for going to Heywards shop. Which ended up being your neighbours store.

You wandered through the store while your mum chatted with Heyward and eventually stumbled upon the boy who ran away sitting on the floor and reading a comic.

"Spider-Man's really cool." You had said sitting down next to him as his head snapping to the side suddenly looking from his marvel comic to you. It was a surprise he didn't get whiplash.

"Really? I think so too." The boy gushed about the hero while you sat listening. Then your mum called you from the front of the store and you pouted, sad you could hang out with your new friend any longer.

Then the next thing you knew the eight year old boy was dragging you both to your feet and taking you to the candy area. He handed you a chocolate bar with a cheeky grin. "Don't tell my dad."

You nodded and giggled before rushing off to your mum and looking back at your new friend happily. Your parents invited the Heywards around for weekly dinners and alternated between houses becoming good family friends which only strengthened you and Popes friendship.

After that began it was an almost daily thing for you to hang out. You and Pope were attached by the hip. You went on your bikes together. Even took kids surfing lessons together. Though Pope practically already knew how to surf since he was raised on the water.

As you grew older you would do your homework together with the Heyward boy often helping you with the subjects you struggled in while you helped him with the things he struggled with.

Eventually you offered to help with the shop to pass time and hang out with your friend and at this point the Heywards were like family to you.

When you were both ten years old Pope had the idea to make a tree house. And though not the best considering it ended up just a rickety platform balancing on branches with ladders either side of it, it still worked. The tree overhung both houses back gardens with its trunk positioned just on the edge of your garden.

You met two more goofs that year. JJ and John B. The two Js was what you called them at first. You became fast friends with their long hanging bond similar to yours with pope. You fit like a lock and a key together. However you never showed the Pogues the treehouse, it was just you and Popes little space.

You spent a lot of time up there just staring up at the stars of reading. Pope liked to talk about all his hopes and dreams while you were there and you listened.

"Y/N, do you think I’ll be able to get into a good college. Like for forensic pathology." He asked as you laid on the 'treehouse' could you even call it that.

"Pope you are the smartest person I know. So it's unlikely that you won't get into anywhere you want."

"I know it's just—I don't think my dad can afford it so I'll need to get a scholarship. There'll be be hundreds of people competing for it. I'm just a drop in the ocean to them." He ranted and you could hear the stress in his voice. This wasn't something someone as smart and determined as Pope should have to stress about was all you thought. He deserved so much while people who deserved so much less got fed with a silver spoon up in figure eight.

"They'd be dumb not to let you in. I don’t see how you wouldn’t. I have faith in you but I will also do whatever it takes to get you in. I'll pay for your tuition myself if I have to. Or I'll find some dirt on the dean and—"

"I'd rather not have my acceptance be a product of your blackmailing ways Y/N but thankyou and I'm not letting you pay for my tuition." He laughed. It was the melodic sound that rung in your ears that made you smile and turn your head away from the stars and towards him. The small lights you had hanging from the tree branches were bouncing off of his beautiful chestnut skin. His eyes were a shade of dark honey brown that simmered in the light. He was amazing in every single way.

Your fourteen year old self was starting to realise what you had been oblivious to the whole time. You would do anything for Pope. He was your ride or die. And you hoped you were his.

However when Kiara came in was when things went weird between you and Pope. She waltzed in in all her kook glory looking like a goddess. So of course you couldn't blame the boys when suddenly all their attention was on her and her beautiful brown wavy hair or golden cocoa skin that glimmered in the sunlight. You couldn't figure out whether she was just born lucky with amazing genetics or whether she was a vampire like from Twilight. Either way, Pope Heyward fell and he fell hard that year. At work he always spoke about her and it was slowly killing you inside. Every time he mentioned it you swore you heard your heart break and crack into more pieces.

You wished you could tell him. But you would be putting your friendship on the line. It would be selfish to tell him when he clearly wasn’t interested.

Instead of moping over an unattainable crush you attempted to move on. And to everyone’s surprise started flirting back with JJ. He was always shooting his shot like he did with Kie and tourons at keggers but normally you never flirted back. You thought somehow within your skewed logic it would work and you would be over Pope. Like the saying fake it till you make it. But it just bought your thoughts back to how it wasn’t Pope.

The Heyward boy started to pay more attention to it. He got a weird feeling in his stomach everytime he saw you laughing at JJs jokes and not his or just talking to each other. He stared every time you flipped your long glossy hair over your shoulder and looked flawless or would saunter off back into the chateau for a drink.

His interest turned from anyone to you within a second of a word coming from you pink lips. But you had convinced yourself he wasn't interested and you were oblivious to his newfound feelings. And so he stayed blind as he had been before to yours.

"HEY WHAT’RE YOU doing over here, lil red." JJs nickname had originated from the fact that red was your favourite colour. You had even dressed up as little red riding hood one year for Halloween which sparked the full nickname. It was sweet but in no way anything more than a friendly nickname. Although Pope begged to differ. You sat leaning against the wooden poll on the wooden floor of the dock. Your arms wrapped around your legs pulling them close to your chest giving you a sense of comfort as you stared at the sunset across the marsh.

You turned to the blond sending him a small smile before turning back to the sinking blends of fluorescent pink and oranges blurring into one beautiful mess in the sky. "Watching the sunset."

"Mind if I watch too?" He asked settling down beside you and resting his arms on his knees. You nodded. It turned away from the sky.

You heard the laugh of Pope from behind you and turned this time you turned away to look seeing Pope laughing with Kie that just sparked jealousy in your stomach. He looked so happy with her.

"So what's the deal with that?" JJ asked from beside you and you turned to him confusion splattering on your features which were orange from the light hitting of the setting sun.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the long glances, more like stares really and when you tell a joke you always look to Pope first. You look at him like he's the best thing in the world. Not to mention you randomly starting to flirt with me. I'm a professional ladies man. I notice these things. You’re not interested in me, it’s Pope." He blurted out and you sat rubbing a hand over your face with a sigh.

"I don’t do any of that." JJ have you a look which you shrugged at. “Look I—I did, but I don’t anymore.”

“You sure about that?” JJ kept his stare on you as you shuffled uncomfortably before sighing.

“I just wish he could just like me back, but he never will he’ll always like Kie and I don’t wanna be jealous of them cause then I’ll be a terrible friend but... I can’t help it.”

“Lil red, I know you might not believe me but I think Pope does like you. A lot. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just some friendly look.” He places his hand on your shoulder rubbing it softly and you send him a tight lipped smile.

“Maybe he does, I doubt it though. And people say girls are complicated. You boys are just as complicated.” You teased bumping his shoulder as he let go of yours. “But anyway we’re forgetting about the most important rule ever. No pogue on pogue macking.”

JJ snorted shaking his head. “Don’t bring up that bullshit rule. I know that if anyone of you showed interest in me it would be out of the window.”

“I’m not particularly a rule breaker unlike you.”

“Rules are made to broken but you’re just boring Lil Red.” You gasped and turned to your friend.

“No I am not. Take it back.” You glared at him jokingly.

“What’re you gonna do?”

You raised your eyebrows and then pushed the boy off the dock thinking you’d suceeded for a slip second until he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in too.

Pope watched the two of you laughing and talking for a while without you realising and then he saw you both fall in the water together laughing and looking like you belonged together. He shook his head slightly as he looked back to Kie who stared with worried eyes.

“You okay Pope?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine just thinking.” Kie nodded going back to talking to John B until a shout erupts and they both turned to see JJ and you in the water. Pope was already looking.

“Lil red what the fuck?” He laughed shaking off his hair while you rung your own out still looking amazing to Pope.

“You said I was boring.” You shrugged chuckling and then screeching as you were pushed back under the water.

“I’m honestly surprised they’re not together yet.” Kie laughed looking at the two other boys beside her.

“You think they like each other?” Pope asked worry pinched in his eyebrows. It was one thing for him to think it but for Kie to confirm his thoughts made his stomach churn.

“Well yeah, I mean look at them.”

Pope was looking at them. And he saw it clear as day. You and him were never going to happen.

You breathed heavily as you and JJ walked up the steps to the docks. “Hey I know what we can do to help get your mind off of Pope for a night.”

“What?”

“A kegger.”

THE PARTY HAD started two hours ago and was roaring with teens, kooks and Pogues alike hung together for one night filled with truce, beer and weed.

He had left you a few minutes before to pursue a girl of course while you sat around a bonfire staring at the embers that floated into the midnight sky. But you were still thinking about him. He was stuck in your thoughts like superglue. You'd hoped that maybe alcohol would help loosen you up and get you out of your head but being alone and drunk made it worse.

Pope stood by Kie as you sat at the fire by yourself. Now was his chance to tell you and maybe you would like him back but if you didn't then maybe it would be less embarrassing since you were drunk. However he was not drunk since he abstained from the beer despite the multitudes of parties they had. He was the designated driver type.

"I'm gonna go over to Y/N." Kiara nodded before she continued talking to a random boy that sat next to her.

He walked across the sand catching your attention as you snapped your head up to see him heading your way.

"Hey Pope."

You were surprised he left Kie.

"You looked a little lonely so I'm giving you company."

"Oh Thankyou. My saviour." You said jokingly. Taking a swig of beer you examined the boys face. It twitched with nerves as he sat next to you and fiddled with his fingers.

He looked up at you with a small smile. “Y/N, I—”

“God, girls around here really have a good left hook.” JJ groaned holding his face sitting down next to you on the log interrupting Pope who he hadn’t noticed.

Then JJ looked up to see Pope sitting there awkwardly and you almost laughing at the fact that he got punched by a girl which never happened before. “Oh shit sorry I didn’t realise...”

“Realise what?” You asked shaking your head cluelessly before you dragged yourself up. “I need another drink.”

JJ tried to stop you but before he knew it you were at the keg with him following after.

“Uh, Lil red, I think Pope might’ve been about to tell you he liked you.”

“Wait, what? Really?” You almost dropped your beer as your hands went slack in shock but you quickly gripped it tight swallowing some. Pope stared into as you had walked away from him with JJ following. Of course he was going after you because like Kie said, they liked each other. He wanted to see if he could forget, so he did something he would probably regret.

“I’m pretty sure I mean he looked like he was going to. I really need to talk to him...” The blond trailed off as he stared at something behind him.

“What is it?” You were about to turn around until JJ held your shoulders in place until your shoved them off and saw what you never wanted to see.

Pope was kissing a girl. Not Kie though. It was just a random girl who he was kissing. Your eyes burned with tears as you turned to JJ scoffing.

“Yeah he definitely likes me doesn’t he.” You choked back a sob shoving the beer into JJs hand and running off into the trees.

Pope has pulled away just in time to see it and instant regret filled his stomach.

“Pope, buddy, what did you do?” JJ asked softly as Pope looked at his walking away from the random girl who looked taken aback.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologised and she rolled her eyes walking off. “I don’t know what was going through my head, one second I was at the fire the next I was kissing a random girl.”

“Look, bro, just go find her and explain everything.”

“Yeah, I’ll—I’ll do that.”

You had walked the farthest you could from the party, still bare foot since your shoes were in the van and John B had the keys. You were leaning against a tree trunk when you decided to go to the one place that would comfort you most despite reminding you of him.

You went straight home taking 20 minutes to walk down the cold desolate roads that were dark by this time. The first thing you did was get ice cream from the freezer before making your way to the tree house and wrapping yourself in the blankets befor leaning against one of the many pillows stored there. You listened to the gentle breeze above rustling the leaves of the blooming trees and the crickets in the distance and felt the gentle swaying of the platform beneath you.

This was your comfort place. It was the only place you felt like this since it was where you created all your favourite memories with Pope Heyward. The unattainable boy who had always been by your side.

By the time Pope made it home it was completely dark but he knew exactly where you would be. He made his way to his backyard and saw your small figure and made his way up. You sat up quickly and almost burst into more tears after seeing him.

"Y/N..."

"Pope what are you doing here?" You asked as he climbed up the ladder.

"I came to check up on you..." He sighs and sits down next to you. "And I came to say that that kiss was a big mistake."

"Why—what?" You looked at the boy in confusion.

"I like you. I know we've been best friends forever and I hope this doesn't make it weird but that's the truth. I kissed the girl to see if I could forget about you which in hindsight was really stupid. And you probably hate me."

You looked at him with glossy eyes and smiled.

"Yeah that was stupid if you thought you could get over me.” You laughed which died down when you turned to him looking more serious. “But I don’t hate you. It’s not like we were dating.”

“I was thinking...we could change that.” Pope tells you and you raise your eyebrows, a growing smile on your face.

“Hmm okay. Date. This friday. On the beach. You and me?" You asked and his eyes lit up feeling slightly surprised at the forwardness.

"Isn't it supposed to be me asking you out?" He asked teasingly.

"It's the twenty first century pope get with it."

"Of course. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Good.” He then jumped on top of you in all your blankets and you let out a shriek. “Oh my god, Pope are you trying to simultaneously give me a heart attack and break this thing?”

“Not really, but if it happens then oh well.” He feigned nonchalance for a second breaking into a grin as you slapped his arm.

“Watch it mister. Or I’ll reconsider that date.”

“Okay, I’m sorry Y/N.”

You sighed contently as he wrapped you up in his arms, both of you under the blankets and the stars. You could definitely get used to this.

Note • In honor of simping for Pope and jd day, year, decade and century i’ve written this cause he’s a cutie and I love him. This was kinda anticlimatic but 🤷‍♀️

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anthropwashere · 3 years

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Perpetual Motion Machine

Hey @o-i-have-too! I’m your (late) gifter for the @fmasecretsanta2020 event. You asked for Elric fun and I come bearing soul alchemy goofs. Real life got a bit weird and as such this isn’t the full fic I was hoping to write for you, but I think it’s a decent one-shot on it’s own. The premise is a bit of a CoS-pull but it’s not a crossover and you don’t need to have seen the movie. All you need to know is that Alphonse “let’s fuck around and find out” Elric is here to have a good epilogue and that is a threat. :)

Title comes from the Modest Mouse song of the same name.

===

They're not back in Resembool two days before The Accident happens. That's not what they call it at the time, of course, but the exasperated capitalization creeps into their voices more and more after the fact and retroactively gives The Accident a kind of resigned importance. Frankly Alphonse only made a big deal out of it at the time because it had startled him, is all. After that, well, it was just interesting. Edward and Winry had no reason at all to run around like chickens with their heads cut off when it happened. It was fine. He was fine, and remains fine after the fact for that matter.

It really had been an accident, is the thing.

The Accident happens just after lunch. Granny goes to let Den out and enjoy a smoke on the porch and Edward and Winry go get ready to head into town, bickering cheerfully on their way out of the kitchen. Alphonse declines to go with them, already tired from a busy morning and not wanting to slow them down. He smiles into his teacup—coffee is still too shockingly bitter for all that he can't get enough of the smell of it—while listening to their voices fade down the hall. It's when he sets his cup down that he happens to catch sight of a pan on the wall with a crack in the handle.

Well, that's odd, isn't it? It must have happened recently and neither Winry nor Granny have gotten around to fixing it, or it's not a pan they're interested in keeping much longer. Curious despite his tiredness, Alphonse eases to his feet and crutch to get a better look. It does look pretty old, once he's face-to-face with it. It wouldn't be hard to fix though, and it'd go even faster with alchemy. He's only done a few transmutations since the Promised Day and they've all somehow been both harder and easier than he's used to them being, courtesy a combination of Scar's nationwide transmutation circle and the whole inhabiting a human body again thing. It's a bit awkward with the crutch, but the circle is so simple that it's practically a background thought as he claps his hands and touches them to the pan—

—and without warning there's a bizarre sort of lurch, and he's face-to-face with himself.

"Uh," he says from two disparate vantage points, and once more for good measure, "Uh."

He blinks with one pair of eyes. The other pair don't exist, technically, and don't have eyelids to blink with. It makes his vision jitter in a way he doesn't think should be described as awful, but it's certainly not pleasant. He closes the pair of eyes capable of doing so and watches himself close his eyes with the other. Then he watches his face twist; first with confusion, then dismay, then earnest alarm. "Oh," he says, and has a front row seat to the weird show of watching his own skinny face in motion, "Oh, no. No, absolutely n—fine. This is—fine. I'm fine. I can fix this. I—oh, hell—"

The oh, hell isn't directed at the situation he's found himself in, disorienting as it may be, but at the voices coming back toward the kitchen. Edward's going to take one look at him and know something's wrong, and Alphonse won't even be able to mock him for overreacting because no really, how did he bungle a simple transmutation this badly—

"We're headin' out," Edward shouts, and on reflex Alphonse looks at the doorway and gets to experience the uniquely indescribable misstep of looking left with one pair of eyes while the other pair remains stubbornly fixed in place.

"Nngh."

Winry hears him, because of course that's his luck, and he sort of sees her poke her head into the kitchen. "Al? Y'okay?"

He really does try to brush it off, to get them out of the house so he can figure out whatever the fuck is happening on his own, but when he tries to wave them off the disconnect between simultaneously inhabiting a human body and not hits him like a blow to the head. He staggers hard. The next thing he's peripherally aware of is Winry and Edward helping him back to the dining table, alternating between babbling sweet nothings and panicked everythings in his ears, all while watching himself get strong-armed into a chair from across the room. They're both loudly asking him variations of what the fuck, so he swallows until he can trust his voice and tells them with as much urgency as he can muster, "Frying pan."

They boggle at him. "What?"

"I'm in the frying pan."

"What?"

He looks at the frying pan. The frying pan looks at him. It sucks. His body's eyes can't help but scrunch, which just makes Edward and Winry hover more worriedly over him. "I'm," he repeats with varying amounts of grimace until they shut up and listen, "I was trying to repair that frying pan with the broken handle, over there."

They both look, which means they both turn to look at him but—obviously—they don't realize that. "Okay?" Edward offers, wary.

"I told Granny to throw that old thing out," Winry mutters mostly to herself, which answers that question for all that it doesn't matter.

"It didn't work—" Yes it did, he can see from here that it did, "—I mean, it did, but it also—I somehow, accidentally, transmuted myself at the same time—"

Edward's "What?!" is closely followed by Winry's far more bemused, "How'd you accidentally manage that?"

Neither reaction is unexpected, but neither are they particularly helpful. What's more important is that it sounds like they don't believe him. He presses his lips together and thinks about saying something, and lo and behold it's the frying pan that says, "I'm still trying to figure that out."

Naturally, they both freak out. Alphonse resigns himself to sitting there while they all but run around in circles, but then Edward has to go and get grabby with the frying pan and at least some amount of Alphonse's soul along with it. He hastily drops his crutch to grab the table with both hands, squeezing his eyes shut as the kitchen goes cartwheeling. The bang and clatter of his crutch hitting the tile is unwanted confirmation that he really is hearing things from two perspectives as well. "Put that down," comes out more snarly than he means it to, but it gets the job done. Edward thumps the pan down like it's burned him, and Alphonse finds himself tripping between relief and dread that he can only feel the vibration through one half of himself.

Edward hovers, stressed to the point of literal hand wringing, while Winry gently rubs Alphonse's back. It's not really as comforting as he remembers it being, before. His skin still prickles too easily at unexpected stimulation. He shies away from her touch, pretends not to see her hurt expression, and forces words out past the lump in his throat. It grounds him a little, to focus on all the complicated bits of speaking with a human mouth. "I transmuted my soul—"

"What? How?" They demand in unison, which does nothing for the headache creeping behind his eyes. He glares at them despite it.

"I don't know, now do I? I wasn't trying to do that! But I'm attached to the frying pan, and I—don't," he breaks off to kind of snarl when Edward twitches like he's thinking about getting grabby again.

"But—" Winry falters, biting her lip. "How are you still talking with your body?"

"I'm still in here too." He forces his real eyes open, though the left one immediately shuts again despite his best efforts. Looking at himself looking up at the ceiling is disorienting as hell. He tries to focus solely on Edward's wide-eyed alarm; after a moment of wibbling, he manages to get both perspectives to line up. It's still horribly bizarre, but it's at least a little more tolerable. "I don't know how, but I'm in both right now."

"That shouldn't be possible," Edward protests. "Splitting your soul? The fuck were you even trying to do?"

"I told you! Fix the stupid pan, that's all!"

The pan in question rattles on the table with no prompting on Alphonse's part. They all flinch back, swearing. Winry's hand settles on his shoulder, light but grounding all the same. "Can you—undo this?"

"H-hold on a second," Edward yelps. "Don't go off transmuting your soul all willy-nilly! Let's think about this for a second, huh? You must've done something else besides try and fix a fuckin' frying pan, so—"

"Please stop yelling," Alphonse complains, clapping his hands. Edward ignores his polite request in favor of more yelling, but thankfully most of it's drowned out by the transmutation. There's that lurch again, and then he's wholly back in his body like nothing had happened. Well, aside from Edward and Winry coming over all handsy in a way that's bruising and overwhelming and entirely unnecessary. "Oh my god, stop, I'm fine—"

"What's with all the shouting?" Granny calls from the front door. "Ed? Winry? Do us all a favor and save the fight for the walk into town, would you?"

"Al's not okay!" Edward hollers back, and Alphonse could just strangle him sometimes, he really could.

"I just said I'm fine, would you listen to me? And what would she do if I wasn't, huh? She can't exactly slap a plaster on my soul—" Which is the entirely wrong thing to say, of course, because Edward immediately falls over himself trying to—what, discern if Alphonse's soul needs stitches via aggressively close eye contact and a lot of shoulder patting? Alphonse flicks him in the nose to get some breathing space just as Granny appears in the kitchen doorway. "I'm fine," he assures her before the other two can get a word in. "Ignore literally anything they say, it was just a bit of accidental alchemy—"

"Accidental," Edward echoes with half-hysterical disgust. "How do you accidentally transmute—"

"By accident," Alphonse interrupts serenely, flicking him again.

Granny gives them all a look over her glasses, like she's strongly tempted to bust out the Stray Dog a few hours early if they're going to keep this level of buffoonery up. The look travels around the kitchen, clearly looking for anything amiss, and lands squarely on the frying pan laid incongruously on the dining table. "Hmm," she says, unimpressed. "Let me know if you're up for helping me with the inventory later, Al."

"Of course," he says, though she's already done the smart thing and left well enough alone. She's his favorite.

"Al—" Winry starts, but nope, he's done being coddled for the day.

"I'm fine," he stresses. "Really." And that's enough to get Winry to back off some but Edward's still gearing up to pitch a fit. He forces calm into his voice and asks, "Could you get my crutch, Brother?"

"What? Oh, sure, here. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Completely." And he's not even fibbing, because he really does feel fine. "It was an accident, and no harm came from it—"

"Soul transmutation isn't something alchemists typically do by accident, least of all you." His tone is scathing, but Alphonse knows him too well not to take that as anything other than high praise. Edward's coming over all thoughtful in the face now, gears grinding. On the one hand Alphonse is right there with him because seriously, what, but on the other hand they really do need to go into town if they want Winry to carry through on her threat of baking an apple pie so good they'll both finally have a good cry.

He stands up brusquely, tamping down the vague irritation over the fact that he can't shepherd Edward around through sheer size alone anymore. His heart rate and breathing are both fine, and the only suggestion he can physically sense that something unusual happened is an uneasy prickle in his throat. He vaguely remembers this feeling from before, associating it with the same shock one gets at missing a step on a flight of stairs or almost dropping something fragile but catching it in the nick of time. Startling, but ultimately harmless.

"Al," Edward persists.

Alphonse reaches past him to pick up the frying pan. It's as heavy as it looks, which is to say his reedy stick of an arm does not appreciate hefting it around, but it's only for as long as it takes to cross the kitchen and hang it back up where it belongs. Then he turns and smiles widely at them both, because sheer force of personality comes in more than one flavor. "Have fun in town! I think I'm gonna go get started on that list now."

Winry cuffs Edward when he opens his mouth again. "Stop mother henning him. He's fine."

Edward, the undisputed king of mother hens everywhere, is clearly unconvinced. He glowers over his shoulder at the frying pan like it spat on Mom's grave as Winry shoves him out of the kitchen. Honestly. It's only once they're finally out of the house that Alphonse allows himself a thoughtful hum.

That was certainly... interesting.

There's a lot of spitballing about the accident—not yet definitive enough to warrant capitalization—over the next couple of days. Edward really can't get over how Alphonse managed soul transmutation without any enormous cost, and considering the only examples they know of are Philosopher's Stones, a couple of dead serial killers, and him, this is honestly a fair hangup to have. And Alphonse has the same hangup too, really! But his primary focus is less the fact that it happened consequence-free and more the fact that he split his soul consequence-free.

"But are you sure that's what happened?" Edward asks for the umpteenth time.

Alphonse finds himself fighting the urge to smirk. "I can always transmute my soul again—"

"No! I mean, jeez, give the damn thing a rest, huh? You've done enough body hopping, don't you think?"

"A frying pan is hardly a body—"

"There's a joke here," Winry chimes in, "You know, about frying pans and fires?"

They both sneer at her for that one, but the intended effect doesn't really pay off since she goes all soppy about how Alphonse can make stupid faces at her again.

Granny and Winry are doing their best to browbeat Edward under the knife again so they can do something about that ground beef masquerading as a functional right shoulder. Alphonse is helping apply the pressure at every opportunity as well; Edward can barely lift his arm over his head months after the fact and that's even after the surgery he got in Central. Edward, naturally, is under the impression that if he pretends hard enough he won't have to deal with it, and goes so far as to flee into town to "get a break from all this goddamn nagging."

"He can sleep in the yard for all I care," Winry grumbles, locking the front door and retreating to her workroom. Alphonse couldn't agree more. There's stubborn and then there's stupid.

Still, with Ed out of the house and Winry filling the house with the sound of shrieking metal, this would be as good a time as any to do some experimentation without anyone breathing down his neck. Well. Not without a spotter. He's curious, sure, but he's not an idiot. Look what messing around with souls cost them the first time around.

He hobbles back into the kitchen after Granny, who's in the middle of making a fresh pot of coffee. "Granny?"

"Mm?"

"I'd like your help with something if you don't mind."

"Of course. What is it?"

"Mm, something pretty stupid, more than likely."

That gets her to look at him, eyes twinkling over her glasses. "Oh, I get a warning this time, do I?"

He shrugs, smiling weakly. "I'd like to try to recreate the accident with the frying pan."

"The same 'accident' that's had your brother up in arms the last few days?" Her mouth thins when he nods, but she only tuts rather than says no outright. "You'll do it either way, naturally. Well, go on, then."

He waits until she's settled at the table with her coffee, then fetches the same pan and joins her. It's still a relief to sit for all that he's hardly been on his feet that much this morning; he takes a moment to relish the burn in his legs and back, rubbing his elbow where there's an indent from the crutch.

"Should we be doing this in the operating room instead?" Her tone is dry, but it's not really a joke.

"I'm not anticipating anything as extreme as that," he clarifies hastily, "especially not with how—easy, I suppose, this was the other day."

She hums and settles back in her chair, trusting his experience if not put entirely at ease. He eyes the pan. It's just a pan, no different than the rest hung up or stored in a cupboard. He still has no conscious knowledge, Gate-given or otherwise, as to how one would go about binding a soul to anything, yet he'd managed it entirely by accident.

Well. This experiment really is just to see if the results are reproducible. He thinks of that same repairing array and claps his hands. The moment he touches the handle there's that lurch again, and he has two pairs of eyes again, one still looking at the pan and the other looking at the ceiling, with Granny and himself barely in his peripheral vision. "Nngh."

"I assume that means it worked then?" Granny asks, wary.

"Mm-hm," he says, then frowns and thinks about saying, "Exactly the same as the first time," which comes out of the pan instead of him.

Granny twitches, half a curse slipping from her. She leans forward, peering at his face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he says, trying not to close his eyes. "It's only—disorienting, seeing from two perspectives at the same time."

"So you really are—attached, I suppose, to this?" She reaches for the pan, but hesitates.

"Partly, yes. I don't know if it's a fifty-fifty split, or if that's even something that can be readily quantified. It's okay, pick it up."

She does so, gingerly, and even still Alphonse has to close his real eyes against the jolt in perspective. "You can't feel that, can you?"

"No, no. It's like the armor; no physical sensations, just sight and hearing. Is there anything unusual-looking about the pan now?"

"Besides looking better than the day I bought it?" She inspects it carefully, and Alphonse does his best not to squint throughout the process. "Ah."

"Ah," he agrees, because dead center on the bottom of the pan is the same seal Edward drew to bind his soul to the armor. Or, nearly. "No circle," he murmurs. A transmutation array instead, and so inherently less stable. Without a circle to control the transmutation it likely won't last long.

He touches it out of curiosity, pulls away when he feels his vision—visions?—wobble. It’s easier to interrupt the flow of energy without a circle too. What would happen if the array was broken? Would the piece of him in the pan automatically rejoin the whole, or—something worse?

"Hm," he says, and claps his hands. Lurch, and he's all where he should be, blinking rapidly at the twist and diminishing of his sight.

"Al?" Granny asks, a note of warning in her voice.

"I'm fine, thank you. You can put it down now."

She does so, and takes a moment to drink her coffee before asking, "Well?"

"Well, I've verified that this is a reproducible event rather than a fluke. Fixing this pan wasn't the first time I've transmuted something since I got my body back—" He plucks at his shirt, which he'd altered to better fit his underweight frame, "—but it was the first time I've transmuted metal, which might be relevant?”

They both hum, frowning at the pan a while.

"This is going to be a problem, isn't it," Granny says.

"I don't know if I'd go so far as to say ‘problem—’"

She quells him with a look, then keeps quelling him until he manages a satisfactory degree of shrinking and contrite, then sighs. "If you lose an arm playing around with this, don't come crying to me."

Which, fair.

This requires further experimentation—something Ed agrees with in theory but is hard pressed to just up and leave Alphonse to it. He gets the fuss—"Yes, Ed, I said fuss—" but he'd prefer to determine the parameters of what transmutations may or may not trigger an extra helping of accidental possession of inanimate objects in a controlled setting. What if it happened in a fight or something?

"Who the hell are you gonna be fighting in your shape?" Edward asks, poking him in the ribs.

Alphonse swats him. "You if you keep that up. And I didn't mean now, obviously, but we've kind of made it a habit to get in over our heads at this point, haven't we? It's sensible to stress test this now."

"I know that," Edward snaps in that particular tone he uses when he knows he's run out of logical points to argue but doesn't feel like he's had a proper chance to shout his problems away.

"Then it's decided," Alphonse says, not exactly pleased per se, but there's not much to do in Resembool beyond adhere to his strict PT regimen, reread books from the collection they've shipped out here over the years for safekeeping, and help out around the house. They stay busy, sure, but life in the countryside can hardly be called mentally stimulating.

They start with compiling and then running through an exhaustive list of materials that could potentially set off the secondary transmutation, figure out fairly quickly that it's pretty much only metals that manage it, and only those that have a decent amount of iron in their makeup. Considering they're freeloading in an automail clinic, determining that specification is a lot easier than it might have been elsewhere even with Winry grousing every time he clapped his hands around her stuff.

Point of interest: he transmutes his soul to a half-configured hand made of a near-identical alloy composition as his armor when Winry's not looking and experiences almost no lurch at all. So that’s something to keep in mind.

Narrowing down what triggers the partial soul transfer is also a helpful exercise in getting over the disorientation of two pairs of eyes and ears—technically only the perception of a second pair of each but that’s just nitpicking—not to mention testing whether or not there's a limit to how many times in one sitting he can flip flop out of himself before hitting any kind of limit. The answer to that last one is a few, and maybe one more beyond that before the headache/nausea gets to be too much, but those both diminish the more he gets a handle on the perspective thing. So a few becomes several becomes a lot becomes Edward grabbing him by the wrists, giving him a faceful of Crazy Eyes #9 ("I had little patience to start with and you are actively digging me an early grave right now,") and saying, "Let's take a break, huh?"

It's around this time that the shipment from Central they'd been expecting finally turns up. Inside it, of course, is his armor.

It’s strange, to see him again—and Alphonse can’t help but consider the armor as an individual rather than an object, after they’d spent so long as the same person. It’s more than a little surreal to see how badly wrecked he’d gotten on the Promised Day from the outside. Winry’s halfway outraged on his behalf, running careful fingers over his ragged pieces, cradling his head as if it’d hurt him if she accidentally dropped it. She and Edward have been that careful with him from the start—or very nearly; once they’d gotten over the shock of the armor’s size and severity, well, it was Alphonse inside it. Of course they treated him like glass.

Den runs off with the helmet while they’re all talking. Not his head, not anymore, though he doubts he’ll ever be comfortable referring to any part of the armor as simple parts. That’s alright. Den will bring the helmet back eventually or one of them will happen across it sooner or later. Alphonse’s real, human head is set squarely where it should be and can’t be knocked off quite so easily these days, and they’ve got all the rest of the armor right here to turn over to Winry.

He’d known from the moment Master Sergeant Fuery asked him what he wanted to do with the armor, when he’d still be attached to what had surely been a hundred beeping machines and three hundred tubes in Central Hospital. For all that Edward had laughed at his nervousness, Alphonse is relieved to find Winry is 100% on board with it. (“Of course I’m on board! That’s good quality steel for all that you went and destroyed it more times than I want to think about!”) There’s no way he would have been okay stashing him in some dusty corner while he goes on with his—their—life. Better to be repurposed. Better to be reforged. Better to be scattered into so many automail parts, helping people move forward after grueling loss and rehabilitation while he does the same.

Which, well, is a nice sentiment in theory, but actually watching his former body get beaten and melted down is another thing entirely. It’s just too easy to imagine still being bound to him! Edward’s just as unsettled as he is and Winry won’t stop laughing at them. It’s gratifying, to find that for all they’ve been through some things haven’t changed.

Even so, he decides he won’t follow through on asking Winry if she’d mind letting him watch her put any of those new automail parts to use.

It’s practically the next day that Edward finally agrees to let Winry and Granny at his shoulder, and since he’ll be out of commission for a while he heckles Alphonse into tabling any and all soul alchemy experiments until he’s up and about again.

Alphonse sighs and rolls his eyes and calls him several different synonyms for mother hen, but agrees in the end. He wishes them all good luck, curls up with a pile of books near the radio, which he turns up a hair past comfortably loud, and then the three of them all vanish down the hall to prep for a surgery Granny anticipates will take several hours.

Then he laughs.

He cannot believe Edward believed him so easily.

He stays put for an agonizing half hour—just in case—then eases down the hall with the pretense of a bathroom break on the tip of his tongue—just in case. It is nothing short of delightful to be able to tiptoe properly again, crutch and all. He hovers by the operating room door long enough to hear beeping machinery before quickly moving on; it might not be an outfitting and Edward will be out cold for the whole duration, but Alphonse doesn’t want to spare any more brain power imagining what’s going on in there than he absolutely has to.

Edward’s leg is laid out on Winry’s worktable, waiting for her to tinker with it while Edward recuperates. Alphonse hums at the sight of it. If he were more in the habit of making faces he thinks he’d be making a pretty unhappy one right now. It still doesn’t sit right with him, to be whole and on the mend while Ed’s still missing most of an entire limb and hard at work adding more scar tissue to his already upsetting collection. It doesn’t sit right with him either, what it cost Edward to bring Alphonse home, but both of those are two enormous conversations that neither of them are real set on hashing out yet. They probably won’t be for a while, especially with the unexpected development of this soul alchemy business.

Which! Look at him getting waylaid by anxiety and guilt again. He’s here to pilfer supplies for secret experiments, not stand here and woolgather. He grabs three smallish pieces of metal that don’t look relegated to any particular project, shoves them into his pockets, and tiptoe-crutches at top speed for the back door.

There’s a small stone bench in the herb garden, age-worn and wonderfully warmed by the late morning sunlight. He leans his crutch against it, fishing out the scrap metal as he sits. He closes his eyes, pleased that he can and pleased by the temporary peace. He can’t hear anything that might go on in the operating room out here.

He takes a deep breath—reveling too, in the heady smell of growing things—and claps his hands. He weathers the lurch with hardly a wince and settles in for one experiment he’s not assaulted Edward’s fraying patience with yet: time.

He’d thought about grabbing Edward’s pocket watch—never thrown in Brigadier General Mustang’s face despite heated promises of a broken nose and gleeful paparazzi to memorialize the occasion—from his room, but he knows Edward’s never bothered keeping it wound. Anyway, too many long nights alone have given him an excellent sense of time and he’s not interested in tracking this down to the exact second, at least not for this first test.

“Mm, I should’ve grabbed a book,” he mutters to himself. Then, fighting a grin at his own silliness, replies to himself through the bit of metal in his hands, “Sounds like a good excuse to test distance while we’re at it.”

Edward’s not liked the idea of this test either, too afraid Alphonse will fall and hurt himself even when he’s there to watch like a hawk. Well if he falls now the worst that could happen is a tumble down a couple stairs, and he's gotten enough of his coordination back that he would be surprised if he earned more than an easily hidden bruise.

He sets the bit of metal with a bit of soul in it on the bench, but an unshielded view of all that clean blue sky makes his real eyes water. He leans it against the bench leg instead, blinking through green grass. It’s not much of an improvement, not really, but it’s something.

"Well, here goes nothing," he says in tandem with himself, and grabs his crutch.

Distance Test #1 goes… fine. He doesn't fall trying to walk around, though it's a near thing beginning to end and he does totter like a drunk the whole way. He grabs a book at random and then has no way to grope around with his eyes mostly squeezed shut which slows him down even further. He does have a bad scare once he's back in the yard when his crutch bangs against Den's automail, so focused on getting back to the bench he didn't even see the dog trot up to him. Den figures out quickly that Alphonse would do better without him underfoot and backs off, tail wagging nervously until he finally eases back down to the bench.

He spends something like five minutes with his hands over his face, breathing deeply, watching Den shuffle anxious circles around the bench from ankle-height. All in all, no more than ten minutes into Time Test #1 and no sign of the array failing yet. He drops his hands and spends another five or so minutes petting Den and murmuring quietly to her. Dog fur is so much coarser than he remembered it to be, and leaves his hands tingling every time he pets her.

"Good girl," he tells her. She gives him a lolling doggy grin and collapses in the grass at his feet, obscuring the view from his soul bit completely. He finds he's not inclined to move her, so long as she doesn't roll up against the array and risk ruining the experiment.

Nothing else for it now but to sit here and wait; either for Winry to come find him or for the array to peter out. He takes up the book—a slim treatise on the applications of geothermal energy in Cretan alchemy—and does his level best to sink his teeth into it.

...As if a book he’s already read three times could be enough to distract him from worrying, honestly.

Winry finds him several hours later, having moved back inside before he could earn too bad a sunburn and already dreading Edward's drugged outrage when he sees it. He'd made the trek upstairs to Winry's room, knowing she'd know it was far enough away from the operating room not to hear anything and knowing too that she wouldn't mind the trespass.

"I thought I'd find you up here," she says, a little sympathetic but mostly exhausted. Den jumps up at once to circle around her, whining.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't hear you come up." He shuts the book, gone mostly skimmed with next to nothing absorbed, and tries to surreptitiously cover up his experiments with it. He underestimates the weight of the book, or the distance, or something; the scrape of steel against wood gives him away immediately. Winry comes over all suspicious, and there's never been any luck hiding secrets successfully from her, so he resigns himself to a good telling off and moves the book.

"Oh, Al," she sighs.

Alphonse sinks into his collar guiltily. He hates when she uses that voice. She only does when he or Edward have properly disappointed her.

“Ed’s sleeping,” she says instead of tearing him a new one. She really must be tired. “Everything went fine. He’ll probably be out for a few more hours, so try and finish... whatever you’re doing before you go see him, okay?”

“Winry—”

She holds up her hand, not looking at him. “I need to take a shower.”

Well that’s a get the fuck out, please if he’s ever heard one. He nods meekly, leveraging himself to his feet and crutch before gathering up the book and scrap metal. He can’t help the grimace as he jostles his second and third pair of not-really-there eyes, and of course Winry sees it. Her mouth thins, but she doesn’t say anything until he’s at her bedroom door.

“It’s scary, y’know? We’re just… we’re worried. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

“...I know,” he replies. “It scares me too.” That isn’t the right word for how he feels about all of this, but that’d be getting into semantics. Winry’s never had their patience for splitting hairs and is dead on her feet besides. “But I want to understand it more. It happened purely by accident the first time. I don’t want something like that to catch me off guard.”

“Who are you so dead set on fighting that you’re planning for worst case scenarios like—like that already? You only just got your body back, Al!”

“Nobody! Nobody,” he repeats when she gives him a doubtful look. Jeez, it’s a lot scarier now that she’s taller than him. Hopefully that won’t last. “But—god, I don’t know. Ed and I—it seemed sometimes we could hardly go a week without running into purse thieves, never mind everything else that’s happened. I want to travel again, once I’m strong enough. There’s so much of Amestris I haven’t seen yet, and I want to study alkahestry in Xing one day too. I’m not naïve enough to think I’ll never have to protect myself, or somebody else, and I don’t want to be surprised by this.” He does a one-shoulder shrug to indicate the metal pressed between the book and his chest, wincing again when his vision jostles weirdly.

Her mouth thins again, but instead of yelling she only nods tiredly. “No surprises. That includes for us too, okay? Don’t go skulking around just to avoid Ed’s yelling. You know he’ll only go off twice as loud when he does eventually find out.”

He huffs, feeling his cheeks tighten with a stifled grin for all that the conversation is so serious. He’ll never get over how good it feels to smile. “Right.”

Up go her eyebrows in an obvious, are you serious with this? expression. She flaps her hand at him impatiently. “Well? What have you been doing up here?”

“O-oh. Well, uh—” He tells her about the initial tests out in the garden, small increases in distance and how long it would take for the array to fail on its own. It took about 90 minutes the first time, when he’d only wandered once, and about ten minutes less than that when he went and read on the front porch. Then when he went inside he figured he’d see if he could do more than one soul bind at the same time (this makes Winry look like she wants to beat him upside the head then crawl into bed to leave Edward to deal with this crazy alchemy shit, but she just nods and gestures for him to keep going when he hesitates) so he did that in the living room, and those arrays failed within five minutes of each other after little more than an hour, so then he decided to put one soul bind down in the basement then come all the way up here to bind two more, and well. Here they are now.

“How long’s it been?” She asks, not looking at him again. He can’t figure out her expression but he’s mostly sure she’s not going to yell at him, if for no other reason than to avoid waking Edward up.

“Mm, half an hour or so?”

“And you don’t feel like puking after spreading yourself around so much?”

“The one in the basement is facedown and so was one of these,” he says, shrug-gesturing again. “It helps. Honestly, Winry, I’d have canceled these two binds at the first sign of anything weird, but there’s been nothing. I mean, beyond being able to do this in the first place. I don’t feel sick, or strained, and nothing hurts. There hasn’t been anything like how it felt when my bind to the armor was failing either. I’m a little bit dizzy, but I’ve technically got four pairs of eyes right now. That’s just to be expected.”

She takes time for a slow inhale, sighing out more explosively as she scrubs her eyes. “Yeah. Okay, sure. Just—nix it on any more experiments until Ed’s out of bed, okay? And tell him what you’ve done once he’s not drugged to the gills.”

“I will, I promise.” He beams at her. It makes her go all happy-crinkly around the eyes when he does that, and this time’s no different.

#fma #fmasecretsanta2020 #fullmetal alchemist #my writing

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

Warmth: Prologue (2/3)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimers: Besides the prologues, I will be posting the first 1000 or so words of every new/next chapter. There will be a link to my AO3 at the end of the post, where the full chapters are at!

Warnings: mentions of blood

Masterlist: (coming soon)

"Here, let me help with-"

"It's alright!" Fuku shouts as she lifted several rolls of fabric with ease.

To say Fuku was doing a little better is an understatement. She was fantastically better. When Yuki and you came into work the morning after her accident, she didn't greet you both in her usual polite and quiet manner. Fuku had loudly welcomed you both in as if the shop were suddenly a bustling restaurant.

You were mending a ripped seam in the back room when Yuki suddenly enters and whispers, "Please tell me I haven't gone crazy, or is Fuku much more lively than yesterday?"

You resist the urge to smile. She got her spunk back indeed.

"I quite like this sudden shift in her character," you say.

"I do too, really! I haven't seen her like this since I was a kid. But the sudden switch from sweet to sassy is…" her mind trails off with uncertainty. She looks over her shoulder to make sure you two were alone still. "Do you think her accident yesterday had anything to do with her personality change?"

"They say your life flashes before your eyes in an instant when you come close to death. Maybe she decided to drop the quiet act and be true to herself."

"Yeah, that's it isn't it?" Yuki asks more to herself than to you. "But should she really be carrying all those fabric rolls? Those things are heavier than they look."

"Perhaps her back is doing better?"

"In a day?!"

She was getting more confused, more frustrated as she tried to wrap her head around everything. You put your needle and thread down and turn towards her. "Do you remember what I said yesterday?" you ask. Her tense shoulders relax a bit and she nods. "Then trust me on this. She's going to be fine. Would I ever lie to you if I didn't think she would?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know why, but you saying she's going to be okay somehow reassures me that it will be."

You give her a pat on the head, but she pulls you into a tight hug. You would hug her back if she wasn't squeezing your arms against your body. It was strange. Her hugging you like this almost makes you feel as if you two had truly become…

You don't finish that statement, for fear that your rival would hear it and use it against you. You nearly forgot that you could never truly make friends, not when you're still in the midst of a never-ending battle with a damn snake that targets the people around you. One of these days, you're going to get rid of it for good by any means necessary. Even if that means you would have to die with it, so be it. Anything to make sure it doesn't come out victorious.

You won't take away the people I love again.

_______________________________________________________________

The last time you took a vacation was...never. You've never been on vacation. Your 50-year lone journey could technically count, considering you don't work and essentially goof around most of those years. It wasn't to relax from the stresses of work though. It was merely to pass the time before you could integrate back into society without causing a fuss. It would also help you forget about the people you had gotten to know.

You look over to your co-worker and boss. "Can't I just relax at home? Do I really need to go all the way out to…"

"Kyoto," Yuki finishes your thought.

"Right. Do I really need to go out to Kyoto to relax?"

Fuku shakes her head in disbelief. "Honestly, all you ever do is work! You'll go stir crazy if you don't switch up your surroundings every now and then."

"Besides," Yuki chimes in. "If anyone deserves a vacation, it's you. I don't think you understand how much you work. It's admirable, but also very concerning."

Seeing their worried expression, you feel a bit bashful. They were only looking out for you, thinking you to be tied down to the same limitations they have. You badly want to just bite the bullet and tell them the true nature of who you are. Surely they would understand, right? They would accept you for who you truly are, right? The coiling of the snake around your arm keeps your confession at bay.

Apparently, a vacation for you meant a vacation for it as well. Tormenting you must be such a demanding job after all.

You made sure to sharpen your axe real well the other night.

The chugging of the train grew louder and louder. You and a few other people, mostly fellow travelers from outside your town, walk up to the yellow line on the ground and stand to wait. The train begins to slow down into a complete stop. Once halted, a hiss of steam is let out and the doors creak open.

You turn to give your farewells to your friends and surprisingly find yourself in the middle of a group hug. You give Fuku and Yuki their own pat on the back and they squeeze you a bit harder.

"Have fun! Don't forget to call me and take a bunch of pictures!" Yuki demands.

"And bring a man home," Fuku adds.

You laugh at her comment. She really was a feisty one.

Adjusting the bag hanging from your shoulder, you step onto the train cart and take a seat. After a few minutes, the doors close and you begin to depart from the station. As you look back out the window behind you, you see Fuku and Yuki still standing there, waving you off even as you gradually disappear over the horizon. You swear, they both looked ready to burst into tears.

A tightness against your arm grabs your attention. After wriggling about from under your sleeve, the snake finally pokes its head out and turns its head towards you.

"So," you whisper, as to not attract any attention from your fellow passengers. "It took you awhile to come back. Did I cut you up that badly?"

It hisses at you for mocking it. Uncaring of it feelings, you uncoil it from your arm and drop it in the seat next to you. Should any of the passengers have watched you, they would see you moving nothing. You were actually grateful they couldn't see it. If they did, they would all certainly panic. You did not want to be known as the traveler who carries a deadly snake with them.

You cross one leg over the other and sink in your seat. "Y'know, I should give you a name. It's starting to become annoying just referring to you as 'the snake'."

It seemed surprised that you were speaking to it on neutral terms. Usually, your interactions were hostile and more or less ended with you chopping it into fine bits. It slithers back onto you, this time coiling around your neck. You nearly flinch at the familiar sensation you felt as it tightened its grip to gain stability.

I felt this in my first memory. Go figure.

You pull out your phone and quickly search up an image of a color wheel. You take care to lift the screen up to the snake's eye level while not appearing odd from any lingering gazes. You tell it to tap on a color, and from the one it selects, you would refer to it as that henceforth. It was unimpressed by your naming process but you tell it that it was either this or you give it the most insulting name you can think of.

It looks at the screen for a minute. It then presses the tip of its mouth against the glass and selects the color black.

"How original," you sarcastically say. It responds by tightening around your neck. "Alright. I'll call you Kuro from now on. It'll make cutting you up all the more personal."

Your one-sided chat ends with Kuro, who turns his head away and settles around your neck. You pull up your phone's built-in navigation app and look at the expected arrival time, 3 hours. You lean forward and prop both elbows on your knees. For the next few hours, you just sat there and waited, not bothering to look out the window and marvel in the passing scenery. Your focus was entirely on Kuro, making sure that he wouldn't try to sneak off of you and attack any of the other passengers. He usually only goes for people you had grown attached to or spend most of your time with, but you weren't going to take any chances.

You give yourself a bit of comfort by sticking your hand in your duffel bag and squeezing the familiar handle of your axe.

________________________________________________________________

The city still amazes you. It was hard to believe that in just a couple hundred years, humanity would evolve so rapidly. As amazing as the advancement of humanity was, the air quality has gone to complete shit. Along with sleeping and eating, you didn't need to breathe either. You're thankful you didn't have to subject yourself to the polluted air and spare yourself from burning your lungs. Kuro seems to hate the air as well, as he makes a sort of gagging noise once you step out of the station.

Finally, we agree on something

You robotically push past the crowds, flag down a taxi, and check into your hotel room. You send a quick text to Yuki to let her know you arrived safely and thank her again for booking the room for you. Once you set your belongings down and relax against the plush bed, you get a text back.

'What r u going to do?'

That's right. This was supposed to be a vacation. You were supposed to be going out and doing literally anything other than work.

What the hell are you even supposed to do?

You text back, 'idk.'

'Seriously??? There's a ton of stuff you could do in Kyoto!'

'Like what?'

'I heard shrines are lovely this time of the year'

________________________________________________________________

The fact that you, a god, are visiting a shrine to be very, very hilarious. Kuro hates it apparently, which made it even funnier.

"Aww, don't be like that," you jokingly cooed at him.

You used the ladle from the shrine pavilion to scoop up the so-called purified water and bring it close to him. He hisses so violently that the shrine maiden that acted as a guide for you and your fellow visitors flinched and looks around to find the source of her scare. Deciding to spare him any more stress and reason to go on a frenzy, you put the ladle back in the basin and catch up to the departing group.

The tour was simple, a mere walk around the temple and it's public areas while the guide explained the history behind each building, important figures, and various rituals the worshipers practice. It wasn't the most exciting way to spend your first day on vacation, but you found still found it interesting and very educational.

Near the end of the tour, the guide leads you all up to a statue of a woman. Her skin is as white as milk, half of her black hair twisted up in a bun while the rest flowed down her back. It was a hairstyle your mother would style on you and even taught you how to do it yourself. Her kimono was a faded gold color from years of natural degradation. The pattern on her stone clothing reminded you of flames.

Your tour guide stops and turns back towards you all. "This here is a statue of the sun goddess, Amaterasu. She is a central deity within the Shinto religion. The Japanese nobility claim their divine right to rule by claiming to be her descendants."

Your tour guide went on about the shrine's methods of worship for Amaterasu, but you completely drowned out her words. You found yourself completely enamored by the statue.

Something about it was...

Hearing that name was…

Your body was...

"Miss?" One of the tour-goers waves her hands in front of your vision in an attempt to gain your attention. "Is everything alright?"

As you slowly regain your focus, you notice a wetness on your face. You had shed a tear. You quickly wiped it away and gave the concerned woman a reassuring smile. "Allergies."

She seemed relieved and without a second thought reached into her bag to pull out a bottle. She pops off the cap, shakes out two antihistamine pills and hands them to you. You take them and hide them under your tongue before taking a gulp of water from your plastic bottle. You thank her, waiting for her to walk off with the group before spitting them out.

Kuro gives a condescending flick of his tongue against the cheek your tear descended on. You slap his head away and growl, "Not a word."

You take a moment to gather yourself before heading back with the group. Before you turn the corner and lose sight of the statue, you spare it one last glance. When you looked at it again, you were certain what you were feeling wasn't just a fluke.

You felt warm.

________________________________________________________________

The tour ended not long after you all saw the statue of the sun goddess. You didn't leave until night, when the Shrine closed to the public. You spent the entire day just staring at the statue, basking in the familiar warmth that filled within your body.

"I know you don't care, but that wasn't some coincidence," you say to Kuro. "That warm feeling. It's similar, no, the exact same warmth I summon when I heal people!"

You yank him off your neck and plop him on the nearest surface, a stone tablet of sorts with writing carved into it. It was monument for some historical figure, but you didn't care about it. He looks at you as if he was actually considering your words for once. At this point, you could care less about this ingrained rivalry between you two. If there was anyone else in the world that could ever relate to you, it would be him.

"Who the hell am I? What the hell are we? Who the hell made us so hellbent on screwing each other over? Actually, let me rephrase. Why are we so hellbent on screwing each other over?"

You kept rattling on question after question. Contemplating the meaning of your existence to a snake that no one but yourself could see. In your confused frenzy, you fail to notice the grey clouds engulfing the sky. The loud roar of lightning and sudden rainfall put a halt to your pacing.

So much for clear skies.

The sound of footsteps approaching your figure brought your attention back down to earth. "Are you alright ma'am? Do you have an umbrella?" a man in a lab coat and glasses looks at you with a blank stare, but his voice indicates that he was worried for you.

You shake your head. "I didn't think it would rain today."

The man opens his mouth to say something when suddenly, your eardrums are assaulted by another clap of lightning. This time, it struck the space right next to the both of you. You frantically search your surroundings to locate exactly where it struck. The monument that your rival was on had been completely shattered into pieces.

Shit, I put Kuro on that!

The bespectacled man kneels down towards you and offers you his hand. You didn't realize that you had fallen over until you finally registered the stinging on each of your knees. You reach out towards his offered hand. Before you could place your hand in his own, darkness suddenly enveloped your vision followed by a wave of dizziness. You instinctively shut your eyes and nurse your head in your hands.

The wet and cold air of the rainstorm was suddenly replaced with a suffocating heat. You manage to open your eyes and find yourself in a completely new setting. You were on the balcony of a building, currently blanketed in flames and billowing smoke. You accidentally inhaled due to your shock and began to cough as your lungs fill with black air.

Your fit alerts a figure in the room of your presence. Seeing you, a defenseless woman all so suddenly, they found themselves frozen in shock. Your vision began to slowly clear up enough for you to notice the familiar sheen of metal. Whoever it was that you were looking at had a sword in hand, tip aimed to the floor where a man lied unconscious at his feet.

Instinctively, you reached into your handbag and grabbed your axe. You put all the force you could muster into your grip and threw it at the man with the sword. He gave out a cry of pain, indicating that you had landed a hit on him. He suddenly backs away from the body and you think you hear him mutter some sort of apology before running out the room. With the threat now gone, you make your way towards the man on the floor. He was still unconscious, so you took a firm hold of his shoulders and began to shake him awake. He wakes up with a sputter before taking notice of you.

"Who are you?" his booming voice asks

"No time for introductions! The building is burning and we need to leave! Now!"

You didn't give him a chance to get in another word. Grabbing his forearm and hoisting him on his feet, you pulled him out of the fiery room. You make sure to grab your axe, wedged deep into the wood of the door frame, on your way out.

Miraculously, you manage to find a way out the building. As soon as you're lungs fill with fresh air, you double over into another coughing fit. As you try to calm your breaths, you turn back to building. It was a temple, but not like the one you visited earlier in the day. This one seemed more rustic. It was hard to fully picture what it might have looked like due to it being quite on fire still.

If you hadn't escaped in time, the man you dragged along with you would have perished. If not by the stab of the sword looming over him, then by the flames. Speaking of him, he looks out towards the burning temple with you. Instead of worry or panic, he seemed to be rather annoyed.

"Someone tried to do away with me as I slept? Audacious, but foolish. Killing my guards and managing to get so close to me is another matter."

Who cares if you were asleep or not?! You almost died!

He then turns towards you, taking notice of your grip still on his arm. "You there," he addresses you. "Let go of me."

You let go of his arm and he rubs it as if your grip was uncomfortable. He took in the person standing before him, his apparent savior.

"You may be mere entertainment the monks brought in, but you saved my life nonetheless. You have my thanks."

Did he just insinuate that you were a prostitute?

"I must have missed all the monks among the fire. I don't have a clue how I ended up in there," you tell him.

It's now that you begin to take in your surroundings. You were no longer within the city, not a single skyscraper obscuring the night sky in sight. The air, despite standing next to a burning building, wasn't as disgusting to breathe in. The man you rescued had striking features. His hair black and eyes a carnelian hue. He wore armor sporting colors of black, white, and red. You remember seeing such attire way back when your parents were alive. He was some sort of soldier.

"What are you staring at? Surely you know who I am?" He asks. You shake your head, being at a total loss for words. This genuinely confuses him. "You saved me not knowing who I am? Not expecting reward or favor?" He gives a deep chuckle that echoes throughout the night. "So be it, I shall tell you my name. I am the man who will rule all under the sun-"

Your silence is broken by your faint laugh. Was this man seriously going to monologue and create some sort of suspenseful build-up over his own name? After he just escaped the clutches of death?

He lifts an eyebrow. "Have I said something amusing?"

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggles and shake your head once more. Surely, he must have thought you rude.

Instead, he lets out another round of laughter, this time louder. "You're a curious one. No one has acted so impudently to me before." He takes a step closer to you and you take half a step back. "You intrigue me, which is almost as worthy of praise for saving my life. I am the Lord of Azuchi Castle and Daimyo of Owari, Nobunaga Oda."

Your head involuntarily tilts to the side. You look up at him and say, "...Who?"

His brows furrow. Now he was getting frustrated. "Do you truly not know who I am?"

You fiddle with your thumbs. "Noooooo?"

"You are indeed a strange one. But I have given you my name. Now, give me yours."

You hesitated, but decided it was safe to give him your name.

"I see. A good name befitting my savior"

Was that a compliment? Hang on, where the hell are you?!

You shake your head as if to clear your mind of its confused state. "Now that we got the introductions out the way. Tell me, where are we?"

"We are at Honno-ji. The building before you is-"

"A temple. I can see that. What year is it?"

He seems taken back by your question and of the fact that you interrupted him. "It is 1582. Why?"

Ah, 1582………WHAT?!

Before you could understandably freak out, the galloping of hooves grabs both your attention. The man at the front of the small group heading in your direction shouts, "Lord Nobunaga, you're safe!"

Once he reaches a safe distance, he hurriedly dismounts and approaches you both on foot. The others that rode alongside him turn their attention towards the building and begin shouting out orders to put out the flames.

"Mitsunari," Nobunaga turns to him. "Why have you come? Where is Hideyoshi?"

"Lord Hideyoshi sent me ahead. He should arrive here shortly," Mitsunari explains. He then takes in the sight of the smoldering temple and frowns. "It would seem the information we received about your assassination attempt was correct."

You feel another coughing fit coming and try to muffle it. It is then that Mitsunari takes notice of you.

"Oh, who might you be?"

Nobunaga calls out to you. He gives a nod to Mitsunari as an indication that you were no threat and then commanded, "Present yourself to my subordinate."

"I'm- Ow!"

Something pierces your ankle and you nearly fall over yet again. Mitsunari pulls you towards him and swiftly draws his sword out. As your eyes search the ground for what could have bitten you, you notice the familiar black scales of your rival hidden between the blades grass.

"Kuro! You bastard, I thought the lightning fried you to a crisp!"

As much as you hate to admit, you were glad to see the serpent is alive and well. However, as Mitsunari took notice of the snake, he pulled you further in until you were between him and Nobunaga.

"A snake?! Please stand back!"

He firmly planted his right foot on the ground and raised his sword. You immediately went on the defense and shoved him into the Nobunaga's chest. They were dumbfounded as they saw you place yourself protectively in front of the snake as if they were the threat, not it.

"Stop! He's with me!"

"My lady, the snake could potentially be venomous. Please walk carefully towards me,' Mitsunari beckons you to him.

Oh, he's much more than venomous… hold on.

You look down towards Kuro, then to Mitsunari, then to Kuro and back to the grey-haired man again. "You...You can see him?"

"Of course I can! Now please, get back!"

You glare down at him. "You bastard! You can make people see you at will can't you?!"

Unsurprisingly, he plays dumb and slithers back on you. Like before, he situates himself around your neck before turning his gaze towards the two armor-clad men. He sends an almost condescending gaze at the grown men panicking before him, a tiny viper.

"Ok, before you panic let me explain. This is Kuro. Say hi." You roll your eyes as he hisses at them. What else did you expect? "Lovely. He's my…we've known each other for a long time."

"You say that as if the snake were a person." Nobunaga notices.

Man don't even get me started!

"He's more aware than most, but he isn't harmful. So long as you don't annoy him he won't try to lunge at you." You shift your weight to the foot he had bitten, reminding you of the fact that he sunk his fangs into you just moments ago. "Except me. He'll only bite me."

"He's not venomous, is he?" Mitsunari asks.

"He has venom," you stupidly say, but quickly backtrack on your statement. "But he never shoots it in me, I swear! like I said, you just have to be cautious around him and not give him a reason to bite you."

"A woman with a venomous snake as her companion. There is no end to your amusement, is there?" Nobunaga speaks up, impressed, and not at all ashamed of feeling so, "Mitsunari, this is my savior. Remember her well."

"I thank you for rescuing our Lord," the man, clad in purple armor and a singular beauty mark under his right eye, bows deeply towards you. "My name is Mitsunari Ishida. I serve Nobunaga's right-hand man."

You wave your hands frantically to stop him. "Ah, no need to be so formal! Despite the circumstances, It's nice to meet you as well."

you properly introduce yourself to Mitsunari, who instantly perks up at your more welcoming demeanor. "Is your foot alright? That bite must have hurt. Though now that I've gotten a better look at you, you don't appear to be a nun. Are you perhaps from abroad?"

You look down towards yourself and realized you were wearing nothing but a t-shirt, capris, and some old worn out sneakers. You must look like a clown to them. Also, what were you even supposed to say in this sort of situation? Hey, I'm from 500 years in the future. Did I forget to mention I'm actually a 300 year old deity? Life sure is crazy!

Not knowing what is safe and not safe to say, you remained quiet. Mitsunari takes notice of your hesitation and looks back at Nobunaga for some guidance. The man, now over your rude behavior, steps past his subordinate and towers over you.

"Were you not taught to speak when spoken to? You may have saved my life, but there is only so much disobedience I will tolerate. Tell us where you hail from, and quickly."

You and Kuro glance at each other. Like most of your standoffs, there seems to be a mutual understanding between you two without the need for words. Remain silent. Do not tell them of your origin or of the nature of your being. Even if he decides you aren't trustworthy and strikes you down where you stand, you will survive the blow.

You kept your mouth shut. He seems more disappointed than angry towards your answer and turns towards Mitsunari. "Restrain her. She is now officially a suspect in the assassination plot on my life"

"My Lord. She's clearly disoriented from the chaos-"

"Restrain her," he ordered with finality.

Mitsunari, hesitant but not one to disobey orders, grabs a length of rope from his horse's saddle and walks back towards you. "Please give me your hands,' he politely demands of you. You do as you're told.

"It's alright," you whisper to him. "If it makes you feel better, my reason for being silent is just for my safety. I mean you all no harm. You have my word."

"I…" he appears caught between his orders and trusting in you. "I will trust you. No person with ill intent would risk their life to save Lord Nobunaga."

You thank him by giving his hand a comforting squeeze. He makes sure to tie your hands in a manner that would make escaping impossible, but not tight enough to hurt your wrists. You're escorted away from the temple, to a camp not too far away. You're led to a nearby bonfire and told to sit and not make any sudden moves. Mitsunari steps away from you and is replaced by two of the soldiers he brought with him.

"Hey," you try to whisper as quietly as you can to Kuro, "I have a suggestion. Care to hear it?"

He slithers around your neck until he's facing you head-on. It seems he's willing to listen. "Let's call a truce," you simply state. "The only conditions are that we look out and help one another until we find a way back to our time. After we return, we can go back to despising each other for the next hundreds of years."

Were you seriously offering an alliance with your sworn enemy? Yes, yes you were. As much as you both detest the idea of having to tolerate each other, the current situation made it clear that the only way you two are going to manage to get home is to put your heads together. Maybe even get along for a change?

Ugh, the thought of befriending this slithering asshole is deplorable.

"If you agree to those terms, bite my neck."

He doesn't hesitate to sink his fangs into your throat. You're sure he's wanted to bite you until your body was littered in duo puncture marks. The guards are alarmed at your cry of pain and go to kneel beside you to see what was wrong. They both took notice of the black snake around your neck and bleeding wounds. They look at each other and then nod. "Don't move ma'am. We'll take care of the snake-"

"He's a pet! No need to draw your sword," you immediately explain to them. "Could I maybe get a rag to press against my wound?"

The guard on your right seems hesitant, but his fellow soldier nods in assurance. He leaves in search of a rag, while the guard on your left seems to get closer to you. He's probably keeping a closer eye on you until his partner returns.

Two new people enter the camp. One is clad in blue and white armor, hair a pure white color. The other in green armor with red accents, hair a natural brown. You try your hardest to listen to their conversation. So far, both new figures seem to be concerned for the well being of Nobunaga. They question him on how he managed to escape unscathed and soon the attention is turned towards you.

"This is my savior. Due to her lack of answering my inquiries about her person, I've placed her under custody until we return to Azuchi."

"That one, sitting by the fire?" the white-haired one gestured towards you. You gave him a wave with your tied hands. "What a slender thing, but appearances aren't everything. Shall I pry answers from her mouth?"

The threat of torture puts you both on edge. You more than Kuro as you would be the one subjected to it.

Nobunaga seems to notice your fear and revels in it. "Once we return home, if she refuses to explain herself again, I will leave her in your hands. For now, we prepare for our departure."

The white-haired one nods in understanding before sending a spine chilling grin towards you.

Note to self, watch out for that one.

The brown-haired one comes towards you. While he isn't as scary as the other one, his height makes up for it. He's nearly twice your height and taller than anyone in the camp. He glares down at you and says, "Whoever you are, if you have any plans to harm Lord Nobunaga, I will make you regret ever having such thoughts."

Threat after threat after threat. You were getting pretty fed up with it. You were about to give the man a piece of your mind when suddenly, Kuro lunges at him. His fangs were bared and spurted liquid out of his mouth. That wasn't a warning bite. It was an honest attempt to bite and kill.

"Kuro!" You scold him. "That's not going to help the situation!"

"A snake?! Why haven't you noticed and gotten rid of it?!" The green armored one questions your guards.

They stutter over themselves before you finally speak up in place of them. "He's my pet."

"Pet or not. Allowing such a dangerous animal around Lord Nobunaga is a risk I won't take."

He reaches down to his waist to unsheathe his sword. In your panic, you shot up on your feet and you kick him right in the diaphragm. His arms wrap around his stomach and he nearly falls to his knees over from the blow.

"The next person that points a sword at us, I'm going to hold you down myself and let him pump you full of venom!" you scream. Gods, were you so on edge that you were now threatening people?

Your suddenly thrown face first down onto the ground and pinned from behind. You turn your head to see who it was that had restrained you. It was the white-haired one. The empty barrel pointed at you keeps you still.

I smell gunpowder. That's a rifle no doubt. Father used to have one in the house in case wolves came by at night.

"Those things have a tendency to accidentally go off," you tell him.

He smiles down at you. "Indeed. You'll forgive me if it does, yes?"

Second note, I hate this guy.

Angered by his cockiness, you try to wiggle out of his hold, but it utterly fails. In fact, you actually help him get a better grip on you and make it harder for you to escape. Great job, you dumbass.

"What shall we do with the snake, my lord?" The one pinning you down asks Nobunaga.

He stood over your defenseless self and stared at you with indifference. "It is clearly a hazard, but it has yet to leave it's master side and only struck when it perceived her to be under an immediate threat. Leave it, but keep your distance."

"My Lord, that is too much of a risk. Removing the threat now would be the better option," the brown-haired one protested. Slightly bent over in pain from your hit.

"I hate to say it, but I agree with Hideyoshi," the white haired one says. "Even a moment of vulnerability on our part will result in her releasing it on us."

The one you hit is Hideyoshi. Noted.

Nobunaga smirks at him. "If you're so concerned, Mitsuhide, then I suggest you put your sharpshooter skills to good use and keep an eye on the damn thing. Now, if you're both done bickering, let us head out."

Mitsuhide didn't seem to like his new orders but answers with a practiced "yes sir", before helping you up to your feet. Without any more to say, you're escorted to an large crowd of horses and lifted onto a saddle. Mitsunari is your apparent rider and you quietly thank the heavens for your one saving grace.

"Sorry," you whisper, "I sort of made things worse for myself."

You feel him tense, immediately feeling bad for making him worry even more.

"Once we return to Azuchi, you'll be in a secure place and can speak your truth without fear of lingering ears," he tells you. The horse beneath you suddenly kinks into a speedy gallop and you hold onto him for dear life.

You travel for a few minutes before the steeds around you slow down into a complete stop. A man with an eye patch and blue and gold armor appears with another unit of soldiers. Perhaps he was back up? He sure is late though.

"Lord Nobunaga. I see you're unscathed," he says, a more casual hint in his voice.

"Physically, yes. But my pride has taken quite the hit. We're returning to Azuchi. Have your men follow."

"Damn, I guess I was too late to see some action," he answers disappointedly. He turns back towards his reinforcements and shouts, "You heard the man! It's back home for us!"

His soldiers all let out groans of equal disappointment. He laughs at their expense before maneuvering his horse to join with the rest of the retreat. It's when he and his men fully merge that he takes notice of you and your bound hands. "Who's the lass?" He shouts over to Hideyoshi.

"They're under suspicion for the assassination attempt tonight. She has a snake around her neck and it will strike if you get near."

"A woman with a snake, huh? I like you already. The name's Date Masamune. I hope we can get to know each other well."

First I get called a prostitute, then this asshole flirts with me while I'm tied up! So much for a relaxing vacation!

________________________________________________________________

Kennyo watches the retreat of the Oda alliance with rage. His chance to exact revenge was in the palm of his hand but had been slapped away in a mere instance. The rustling of bushes gains his attention and he turns to see Ranmaru knelt before him, sweaty and disheveled. He's now porting a gash across his normally pristine face. "Are you alright? We need to tend to that wound to prevent it from becoming infected. It'll likely scar."

Ranmaru is on the verge of tears. "Master Kennyo, I failed you. All our efforts to eliminate the head of the Oda have gone to waste because of-"

The monk shushes him. "You've done well, Ranmaru. You've demonstrated how well the devil king trusts you. That alone is enough to be the cause of their undoing."

Ranmaru flinches at the mention of the word "trust." Kennyo turns back to look at the retreating forces once more. He turned back just in time to see that the they had a prisoner in their midst. He becomes even more enraged once he realizes that it was a woman.

"They would go so far as to blame a woman for the fire and hold her captive. The Oda couldn't stoop any lower than they have now."

Kennyo begins to walk away into the darkness of the forest. He gestures for the boy to follow, and he does so without hesitation.

________________________________________________________________

Another set of eyes watch the retreat of the Oda alliance from the sidelines.

"How disappointing. Though perhaps this is a blessing in disguise," Kenshin, initially unhappy seeing Nobunaga escape unharmed, immediately perks up at his own thoughts. "I still have an opportunity to drag the devil king out to battle and strike him down myself."

Shingen shakes his head in disbelief. Although he was frustrated as the rest, seeing the Oda pull out victorious and without a single loss, hearing Kenshin retain his bloodlust was reassuring. "He truly earned the title of devil king. Only a demon could have such twisted luck on his side."

"Lord Shingen," Yukimura suddenly notices an unfamiliar figure among the retreating forces, "look at who is riding with Mitsunari Ishida."

Shingen searches out for the familiar tuff of grey hair. He was in a bad mood, but now he's pissed. That was a woman, bound by the wrist the same way a criminal would be. "Unforgivable," is all the Tiger of Kai could growl out.

"Yes," Yoshimoto nods in agreement with his cousin, "Such a small thing. She must be scared to death."

Kenshin doesn't make any comment at the revelation, but he notices the panic that overtakes Sasuke's face upon hearing that a woman had been taken prisoner.

"I've grown bored. Let us return to Echigo and reconvene another day."

Kenshin doesn't wait for an answer. He turns away and the rest of his allies follow without a word. "Sasuke," Kenshin calls out to his ninja who had yet to move from his spot, "Do not keep me waiting."

He snaps out of this train of thought before following along. "Yes, my Lord."

________________________________________________________________

You had remained quiet the entire trip. A few people called your name, but you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even acknowledge whoever was speaking to you. You failed to realize that night had turned into morning. Your surroundings had changed from foliage into a massive fortress-like castle.

Kuro paid attention to your surroundings in your stead. Anyone that had gotten even a little close was hissed at and had transparent venom spat at them. Even Mitsunari, your one and only ally as of now, was not spared of the serpents radar.

You finally speak your first words after hours of silence. "If you keep threatening every man that so much as looks in my direction, I might start to believe you actually liked me all this time."

You're once again bitten, this time on the back of your hand. Blood quickly pools in the twin punctures before rolling down and staining your skin.

Mitsuhide had witnessed the snake sink its fangs into you. "Oh my, such a temperamental pet. Are you sure you have it under control?"

You roll your eyes. "Of course I do. Hey, Kuro," you look down to him. "If things turn ugly, pump me full of whatever you got left."

The snake nods, pleased at the privilege you've given it. Mitsuhide narrows his eyes at you, concerned over your order. You make sure to pat Kuro's scaly head while maintaining eye contact with him.

The entourage heads towards the stable. Stable hands awaited their return and began to board and tend to each steed. Mitsunari eventually dismounts and offers his hand for you to take. You gratefully accept his gesture and he helps steady you on the ground.

"How are your hands? If they feel sore I'll redo my bindings," he offers.

You shake your head. "I'm alright. What's going to happen to me now?"

"Lord Nobunaga requested an immediate council upon his return. It will likely be about the events that took place at Honno-ji and will take some time to inform and gather everyone needed. Until then, you...you will be…"

You didn't rush him. He was clearly having a hard time trying to muster up the courage to tell you what will happen to you until the meeting. You already have an idea what it would entail.

"You will be held in a prison cell until your fate is determined."

There it is.

"Will Kuro be allowed to stay with me?"

He nods. "Hideyoshi requested that the snake remain on your person at all times and visible. I hope his request isn't too unreasonable."

"If it puts the people here at ease then I can live with it. I'd feel safe having him close by anyways, so I'm quite thankful he didn't call in some expert snake hunter or something."

Mitsunari smiles at your words. "Even when the odds are against you, you find the positive within. You are truly admirable, my lady."

You return the smile. "Thank you, but I'm sure I told you before not to be so formal!"

"Very well. I agree with the condition that you address me with familiarity too. Is that alright?"

You nod and, for a brief moment, you forget that you were technically still a prisoner.

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#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen series #otome #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikemen sengoku writing #ao3 fanfic #ikesen writing #ikesen fanfic #writing #fanfic: warmth #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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naughtyneganjdm · 4 years

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The Mistress - Chapter 42

Summary: The reader continues to get comfortable being in Alexandria with those she is getting close to, but Rick enlists the help of the reader when Negan stops eating requesting her to try and help. Negan takes advantage of the moment and changes their lives in a way that the reader was never prepared for.

Characters: Reader, Negan, Daryl, Rick, Aaron, Siddiq, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, talks of suicide, some abuse

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9366677/chapters/55202308

Notes: So I feel like I need to stress some big warnings here. This chapter is kind of intense. There is smut, there is something that happens in that smut that Negan does that the reader isn't exactly comfortable with, there is talk of suicide so a big trigger warning there and there are parts where the reader is so angry that she takes her anger out on someone and beats them. So if any of that makes you uncomfortable, I'm putting it out there. It's a very intense, emotional chapter. So if any of it upsets you, I'm sorry.

I am time jumping a bit, but I'm trying to catch up with the more recent seasons, so again I apologize if you aren't a fan of it. Thank you to anyone that still reads this!

“Oh, you think you’re funny?” you watched Daryl playing with Ethan while he was sitting in the middle of Ethan’s bedroom on the floor.

Over the last year Daryl had constantly come to see Ethan and while at first it had made you uncomfortable with having Daryl over, it was cute the bond that the two of them had. Daryl would bring Ethan toys and play with Ethan while he had free time. Your friendship with Daryl had seemed to build back as well and the two of you had gotten back on talking terms. Daryl was so good with Ethan that times when you were working and helping Siddiq out with some of his patients, Daryl would babysit Ethan. Negan was never a subject that was brought up while you were with Daryl and you assumed it was because both of you knew better than to talk about him around the other.

“Oh no,” Daryl dramatically blurt out when Ethan playfully jumped at Daryl. Daryl would often rough house with Ethan in a silly way, but Ethan seemed to love it. “You got me!”

A laugh escaped your throat when you saw Daryl grab a hold of Ethan and hold him up in the air. Ethan’s giggles filled the air as Daryl made airplane noises while playing with him.

“Doodoo,” Ethan called out with a laugh and Daryl grunted when your son held his hands out to reach for Daryl’s face.

“I can’t believe he calls me doodoo,” Daryl grumbled under his breath when Ethan grabbed at Daryl’s hair to play with it between his fingers. Daryl huffed heavily while Ethan’s little fingers twisted at Daryl’s hair.

“Well Daryl isn’t the easiest thing in the world to say for a one year old that says only a few things,” you pointed out with another deep laugh watching Daryl’s cheeks blush over with red. “He’s trying and that’s the best he can do.”

“Well I have a hard time when I’m watching him knowing if he’s just taken a crap and I have to change his diaper or he’s calling for me,” Daryl lowered his arms and heard Ethan laugh when he crawled in over Daryl’s chest to squeeze at Daryl’s cheeks. “Little dude has a lot of energy.”

“Tell me about it,” you let out a long sigh. “He just wants to keep going and going. And he’s fast.”

“Likes the word no a lot too,” Daryl stated with a laugh while Ethan squeezed harder at Daryl’s cheeks while they were lying on the floor together. “The boy likes to tell me no when I try to feed him.”

“He just likes the way it sounds,” you watched Daryl lift Ethan up so he could blow on Ethan’s stomach, making a farting sound and Ethan’s laughter filled the air. “He’s happy though. That’s a plus.”

“But he’s a goof,” Daryl looked up at you when Ethan continued to boast out with laughter. He was laughing so hard and it was a nice difference from what Ethan had been going through. You weren’t lying, he was a happy baby, but a lot of nights he would call out for his dada and cry when leaving Negan. Your heart was broken watching both the men in your life being depressed and there was nothing you could do about it. “Aren’t you buddy?”

“You’re going to give him hiccups,” you informed him with another smile when Daryl repeated the motion and caused Ethan to cry out with laughter again. “I’m serious, if he gets the hiccups; I’m making sure you’re here to take care of him.”

“I don’t mind,” Daryl insisted, allowing Ethan to get down and Ethan crawled across the floor to play with one of his toys that was in the corner of the room. “I like spending time with him. I like spending time with the both of you.”

“It’s nice,” you agreed, meeting Daryl’s blue eyes in a small glance. A half smirk pressed in over your lips when you looked to Ethan again. The sound of a soft knocking was heard and you lifted your head to see Aaron at the door. “Hey you.”

“Hey,” you noticed Aaron looking between you and Daryl.

“I’ve got some of those supplies for you,” Aaron nodded toward the door and you went to grab Ethan.

“I’ve got him,” Daryl insisted, urging you to go ahead with Aaron. Clearly he wasn’t ready to stop playing with Ethan and was going to give you time to get done what you needed to. “Go ahead.”

“Are you sure?” you looked to your son seeing him clapping him clapping his hands together when Daryl did.

“Oh, we’re going to get in lots of trouble, aren’t we?” Daryl rubbed his hands together and Ethan repeated the same motion while giggling. Daryl’s laugh filled the air when Ethan said yes and you couldn’t help from smiling. Ethan loved playing with Daryl and their relationship was sweet. “Don’t worry mom, we got this.”

“If something is wrong, call for me…” you winked before moving to the door where Aaron was resting against the doorframe. A smirk was over his features and you found it weird the way Aaron was looking at you. You gave him a questionable expression and he shrugged before moving to the hallway.

Following Aaron downstairs, you helped put away the things he had brought for you in your kitchen and you could tell that he was still eying you over awkwardly, “What is with you today? Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“What’s with you and Daryl? He’s an angry son of a bitch out there, but with you he becomes Mr. Nanny?” Aaron chuckled hearing the sounds of Daryl and Ethan playing upstairs from the kitchen. “You two seem close.”

“I guess,” you shrugged your shoulders and looked to Aaron who had his eyebrow arched in curiosity. You had spent a lot of time with Daryl lately, but you really hadn’t thought much of it. “What?”

“Are the two of you sleeping together?” Aaron poked further and you let out an awkward groan. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you at all. How long has it been since you last had sex? And with Negan nonetheless. I see the way he looks at you. There is something more there other than just friendship.”

“I haven’t had sex in a long time Aaron, thank you for asking, but no…I’m not sleeping with Daryl,” you explained with a tense sound. You felt yourself begin to get uncomfortable when you thought about what he just said. “I’m married.”

“Please,” Aaron rolled his eyes and helped put away more of the supplies. “You’re married to a guy who is in prison that you get to see two days a week. You have needs you know. Daryl does too. He’s good with your son. He likes you and he’s a good guy. I bet sex with him would be something worth talking about.”

“What I need is for my son to see his father more. I’m thankful for Daryl, I am…” you began, finding your body tense over all of this discussion.

“Listen, I get Negan is your husband. I do, but Daryl is a good guy,” Aaron continued and it was like he was trying to sell Daryl on you. “I bet if you gave him a chance…”

“Aaron, please don’t make my relationship with Daryl something that it isn’t,” you pled with your friend hearing him sigh heavily. “He’s good with my boy and I’m very thankful for that.”

“I see the way he is with you,” Aaron rest his weight against the bar that was in the center of the kitchen. You looked over your shoulder at him and rolled your eyes. “You may not think something is going on between the two of you, but he sure does. He still considers himself Ethan’s father.”

“To who? Ethan looks exactly like Negan,” you pointed out hearing Daryl and Ethan laughing from where you were at. “He’s great with Ethan, but Ethan knows Negan is his father.”

“Yeah I know, Negan told me all about Ethan calling him dada when I was the person that came down to feed him the other week,” Aaron informed you and you felt your chest ache at the sound of it. “He wanted to talk about it. He wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Did you talk about it with him?” you turned on your heel to look Aaron over.

“No one talks to Negan,” Aaron retorted with a snort. “He’s an asshole and no one wants to put up with that.”

“No one talks to Negan?” you questioned feeling your throat go dry at Aaron’s admission. “So when he talked about Ethan…?”

“Listen, he doesn’t deserve the two of you,” Aaron insisted with a firm nod. “No, I didn’t want to hear him talking about how his son called him dada for the first time when he’s not the person here taking care of you. The best thing you could do for that little boy is take a chance on what you and Daryl have going on. Ethan would be much better off thinking Daryl is his father.”

“But he’s not, Negan is his father,” you snapped at your friend seeing the way that Aaron’s eyes displayed a sense of shock with your reaction to him. “Has Negan ever tried to talk to you about other things that you never told me about?”

“What does it matter?” Aaron snorted, clearly still having strong negative views about the man you loved. You gave him a look and Aaron cleared his throat uneasily. “He’s told me things to tell you in the past and…”

“You never did?” you snapped, watching Aaron gulp heavily.

“We’re still putting up with the shit from The Saviors because of him,” Aaron informed you with a firm nod, his voice raising as if to defend the things he had done. “They are constantly causing shit. I don’t know what Daryl tells you…”

“Daryl comes here and leaves all the outside shit out of this,” you explained knowing that while you appreciated all the things that Aaron did for you, you still found his attacks on you about Negan a little annoying. “Unlike you, Daryl leaves Negan out of this.”

“You’re my friend, you deserve better,” Aaron tried to insist and you threw your hands up in the air to silence him. “At some point you are going to realize that I’m right Y/N. You have to realize that.”

“Ethan is going to grow up knowing that Negan is his father,” you repeated your earlier statement and you felt your body locking up. “I don’t know what’s happening with the Saviors, but Negan has nothing to do with it. Negan is locked up in a cell.”

“Daryl has kept you safe. Yes, most people with a brain can see that Ethan is Negan’s child. Most people have picked up on the fact that you go and visit him weekly, but some people still believe the baby is Daryl’s and you’re just afraid to admit it to Negan,” Aaron explained and you let out a hesitant laugh. “It’s for the best the quicker you let go of Negan.”

“I’m never letting go of Negan,” you snapped and looked up toward the stairs to make sure that you two were still alone. “I care about Daryl, but I have never and I will never feel the way for Daryl that I do Negan…”

“I’m just…” Aaron stopped talking when you held your hand in the air to silence him. You had enough.

“If you like Daryl so much, why don’t you just date him then?” you suggested with an angry huff and the expression twisted over Aaron’s feature. “I mean you are rallying so hard for him, why don’t you go and take your shot?”

“If I was you, I would,” Aaron snorted, his jaw clenching when he spoke. “I realize you love Negan…”

“Then that should be enough for you to realize I’m not going to change my mind,” you pointed out and Aaron swallowed down hard. “I wish you would respect that.”

“Fine,” Aaron nodded, his eyes looking away from you and you could tell that he was upset with your reaction to how he felt about Negan.

“Thank you,” you finished putting things away before saying your goodbyes and heading back upstairs to be with Daryl and Ethan again. Once you got back upstairs you could see that Daryl was holding Ethan who seemed to be falling asleep against Daryl’s chest. “Hey you…”

Daryl lifted his eyes up from where he was watching Ethan and he half smirked, “Hey beautiful mama…”

Daryl winked, carrying Ethan over to his crib to put him down for sleep and you stepped in beside Daryl while he stared out at Ethan. Daryl reached out to brush his fingers through Ethan’s thick, dark hair and he half laughed, “He’s a great kid. You’re very lucky.”

“He is,” you agreed, admiring your son from where he was sleeping. You never thought you would love being a mother, but you did. You were scared at first, but Ethan by far was the best thing you had ever done and it gave you reason in life. It was an incredible feeling and staring down at that beautiful boy made you believe in miracles again. “Being a mom is tough, but he makes it worth it.”

Daryl playfully nudged your hip with his and you laughed when he did it, “moms are the real super heroes of the world.”

“I guess we are,” you sighed and felt Daryl reach out to wrap his arms around your shoulders to give you a tight hug. You appreciated all the support that Daryl gave you through this last year and you were sure that you were better off because of him. That you could easily admit. “This single parent shit…it’s tough.”

“You’re doing so well though,” Daryl insisted when you turned in his arms and felt him holding you close. “You’ve raised an incredible little monster.”

“Hey…” you laughed poking at Daryl’s ribs and he pulled away from you with a tight laugh. “You’re a dick.”

“I know,” Daryl agreed before looking to Ethan again. “He’s not a monster; he’s pretty damn cool for a baby.”

“I think so,” you retorted giving Daryl a thankful look. “Thank you so much for all you have done for us. We appreciate you more than you will ever begin to know.”

“It’s nothing,” Daryl insisted with a nod and he swallowed down hard.

“No it’s a big thing. A lot has happened and you make Ethan happy,” you breathed and a moment later felt Daryl’s hands reaching up to grab a soft hold of your face. Feeling a lump grow in the base of your throat, you could see the way Daryl was looking at you had changed. Licking your lips, you felt yourself getting uncomfortable. “Thank you for everything.”

Daryl simply nodded and the warmth of him pressed in closer to you making you tense up. Daryl’s thumbs caressed over the sides of your face while you looked up at him. When Daryl bent forward toward you, with everything that you were you wanted to step back, but before you knew it Daryl’s lips were over yours. Daryl was kissing you and you wished that Aaron wouldn’t have spoken this into existence because you hated this. You loved the relationship you had with Daryl and by him kissing you, it made things so much more complicated.

The sensations of Daryl’s rough thumbs were caressing over the sides of your face and you weren’t eager to return the kiss, but something inside of you was frozen. You were afraid of pulling away because what would happen if Daryl realized you didn’t feel the same? Would you lose your friend?

The sound of the door opening downstairs was heard and you thanked God when it made Daryl pull away. You both were silent and when you saw Rick stepping in before the door you heard Daryl grumble. Clearly the two men were still having problems with each other and you didn’t want to ask about it.

“Daryl,” Rick breathed out and Daryl rolled his eyes before looking to you.

“I’ll see you later,” Daryl looked back at Ethan before looking to you again. Daryl moved to the side of Ethan’s crib and reached out to caress over the side of his face before moving back to you to press a quick kiss over your cheek. Rick gave you an odd expression when Daryl pulled away. Daryl took a step back and left the room, slamming into Rick’s shoulder as he left which caused Rick to let out a grunt.

“I’m sorry,” Rick cleared his throat, looking to you with a discomfort in his face. “I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” you folded your arms out in front of your chest knowing that the last time you talked to Rick the two of you had gotten into a fight about Negan. You had suggested them let you be the person that Negan had help bathe him and Rick was quick to deny that. You begged if they would let you in to see Negan behind the bars and again Rick disagreed with it. “What do you want Rick?”

“I reckon you’re rather mad at me,” Rick cleared his throat uneasily and you let out a small laugh. That was a total understatement. “Listen, I’d like to think we were friends. Beyond everything that goes on with Negan, you and I…we’ve gotten close over the last year.”

“Yeah Rick, we’re friends, but you can be one cruel son of a bitch,” you snapped, realizing that you were being loud and you lowered your tone since Ethan was sleeping. “You have no idea how cruel it is what you are doing.”

“You have to understand I have to please both you and the people who hate Negan at the same time,” Rick tried to explain and you let out a frustrated sound. “People want him dead Y/N. I’m trying to keep him safe, you have to realize that?”

You looked away from Rick and let out a long sigh. You knew he wasn’t wrong about Negan and how people clearly wanted him gone, but it still bothered you that he kept your family away from Negan. Rick was clearly trying to muster something up as he shifted before you, “He’s why I’m here.”

You gave Rick your full attention and watched him grab a hold of his belt. Rick cleared his throat and licked at his lips, “I need your help. They tried cutting his hair and beard, but he kind of threw a fit.”

“He kind of threw a fit?” you repeated Rick’s words, your eyebrow perking up when he said what he did. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll…see,” Rick cleared his throat again before speaking up. “I need you to convince him to eat though. He’s starving himself Y/N and I…don’t know what to do. You’re the only person that I think can get him to stop doing this.”

“He’s miserable Rick you have to let us see him more,” you pled with him, but Rick was still uneasy. “Let me try to bathe him, if I…”

“Talk to him. I’m letting you go today to talk to him. That’s all I’m giving you. An extra day,” Rick explained in a firm tone and you let out a tight laugh, your eyes rolling when he did it. “End of discussion. Go in there to talk to him. Convince him he needs to start eating.”

“Yes sir,” you grumbled and moved over toward Ethan’s crib feeling Rick stepping in beside you. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“I want what’s best for you Y/N. For both you and your son,” Rick’s hand pressed in over your shoulder in a supportive grasp. “I hope you know that.”

You glanced to Rick and saw him looking frustrated with the decisions he even had to make. You would have hated to be in his position, but you still wished he would have thrown you a bone every now and then.

Later in the day Rick had given you a time to go and see Negan. Aaron had agreed to watch over Ethan with Gracie so Ethan could get used to playing with other children. When you had learned that Gabriel was going to be the person who would be keeping guard outside when you went to talk to Negan, you had pled with him to let him let you into the cell. You appealed to the fact that Negan was depressed, that you wanted to bathe him and it took some serious convincing, but when you brought Ethan into the situation, Gabriel had grudgingly agreed. Gabriel had gotten you the supplies to help bathe Negan and had slipped you the key to the cell without telling anyone. He agreed to let you take care of Negan as long as you swore that you wouldn’t try anything. Several times he told you that he had put his faith in you with Negan and he didn’t want you to break it.

He had told you that he put some hot water in the room when you had arrived with some supplies yourself. Moving down the stairs, you pulled open the door and saw Negan sitting on the edge of his cot with his head in his hands when you entered the room.

Negan kept his head down because this wasn’t the typical time for you to come and see him. It was late in the day and Rick normally let you come with Ethan in the early morning or afternoon. You were never there this late and this wasn’t a day that you were typically there. Moving across the room, you set the food down and heard Negan grumble.

“Tell Grimes he can fuck off, I don’t want that shit,” Negan grunted from where his head was lowered and you felt your chest ache looking at him through the small amount of light that was entering the dark cell. “After what they did with my hair, you can fuck off with the bath too.”

“Even for me?” you breathed out and Negan lifted his head to see you standing at the bars to his cell and he let out a tense sound. “Hey sweetheart.”

“What are you doing here?” Negan slurred, looking to you with his big hazel eyes. It was then you had seen what had happened. The side of Negan’s face was lightly bruised and you could see that they had cut Negan’s hair. His large beard remained, but the cut to his hair was half assed. There were patches of hair missing from his head where there were obvious wounds from the person clearly cutting him during the process. When Negan noticed you staring, he lowered his head and let out a long breath. “I know I look awful.”

“Baby, what did they do?” you muttered, watching Negan lower his head further and you clung to the bars. “Rick tells me you aren’t eating.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Negan whispered, letting out a heavy sigh. “He’s a piece of shit for bringing you into this.”

“So there is nothing I can do to make you eat for me?” you breathed out and Negan half laughed, looking up at you with his saddened hazel eyes. “Nothing?”

Negan was silent and simply lowered his head again. Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the key and looked to make sure the two of you were alone before putting the key into the lock. When Negan heard the sound of the lock being opened, his head shot up and when you pulled open the door Negan let out a whimper.

Stepping into the cell you watched Negan scramble to his feet and quickly move to wrap his arms around you tightly. For the first time in over a year Negan was holding onto you and you rest your head against the center of his chest. Negan’s body was shaking and you heard him start to cry. You couldn’t believe the immediate reaction that Negan was giving just to be able to hug you and you held onto his slender body tighter. With your head resting against the center of his chest you could hear his heart pounding inside of his chest and you found yourself in awe that he was reacting the way he was.

“Is this real?” Negan tremored in your arms while he caressed his hand over the back of your head. Negan’s breath felt warm against your face when you lifted your head to look up at him. His hand shook as he reached up to touch at the side of your face. “I’m not dreaming?”

“No baby,” you shook your head feeling your eyes burning at the sight of Negan crying just from being able to hug you and touch you. You reached for his hand and heard him let out a desperate sound from you touching him. “This is real.”

“But how?” Negan lowered his head and rest his forehead against yours, while you reached up to cup his face in your hands. Negan was desperate for the skin to skin contact and you felt your tears pressing in over the corner of your eyes. “Did Rick let this happen?”

“No baby, I had to do some good begging to a friend,” you explained and Negan’s bottom lip trembled while you touched him. You felt tears sliding down the side of your face and Negan reached up to wipe at them with his thumbs. “Please eat for me baby? I can’t lose you. I’ll sit with you…”

Negan gulped down heavily and you moved to grab Negan’s food, but Negan wouldn’t let go of one of your hands, almost afraid that you would leave him. When you moved back into the cell with him, you took a seat on the cot with Negan and continued to hold onto his hand. It took some urging, but slowly Negan began eating his food while you sat next to him and continued to hold his hand. When Negan looked like he would stop, you would urge him to keep eating and Negan was trembling while you were beside him.

When Negan had finished, you leaned in to press a loving kiss over the side of Negan’s face and Negan let in a sharp breath when he felt you close to him, “let’s get you cleaned up sweetheart.”

“I don’t…know,” Negan frowned and you gave him a glance before reaching for the bucket of water that you had brought with you, but Negan wasn’t eager to move. Reaching out to where he was sitting on the cot, you traced your fingers over the big spots of missing hair. “The guy cutting my hair apparently wasn’t a fan.”

“Rick said you threw a fit,” you thought back to what Rick had said and Negan laughed.

“If you mean threw a fit, I threw the guy off me when he cut my head, then yeah…I threw a fit and then they beat me to keep me down,” Negan blurt out and when he saw the way your eyes stared out at him, he quickly changed the pace. You were mortified and hated to hear that Negan was being treated that way. “I’m okay though baby…”

“No, you’re not,” you replied and Negan hushed you. He reached out to brush your hair away from your face. Negan leaned in to press a loving kiss against your forehead while you stayed that way for a moment. You were eager to be able to touch Negan, but knew you had a plan. You wanted to help bathe Negan, but when you reached for Negan’s shirt, he grabbed your hands and gulped down.

“I’m not…as appealing as I used to be,” Negan informed you with a big gulp. “I don’t know if you want to see me like this.”

“You’ll always be appealing to me,” you assured him, urging Negan to the edge of the cot while you began to unbutton his long sleeved blue shirt they had him in. Negan was shaking while you managed to get the material pulled apart. Pulling the material from his shoulders and down his arms, you let out a shocked sound seeing all the weight that Negan had lost. “Baby…”

“No…no, it’s okay,” Negan comforted you when he saw you crying over seeing what he looked like under the prison shirt they had him in. Negan reached out to cup at your face and he shook his head. “Please don’t cry.”

“Negan,” you frowned looking over his extremely thin torso. Your heart broke as you reached out to slide your palms up and over his body, tracing over the rib area of his body where he took in a sharp breath. His bones were very obvious and you felt tears continue to press in over your face. “Please keep eating. Negan, I can’t lose you…”

“I’m sorry,” Negan apologized and he reached for your hands, urging you to touch over his chest again clearly touch starved while you did as he asked. You caressed over his aching body, hearing him groan when you squeezed at his tight shoulders. Negan’s breathing was erratic while you caressed up and over his slender body. “This is all my fault.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, reaching for the water to help you start bathing Negan. Negan seemed to be eager to be touched and was desperate to continue to touch you while you cleaned him. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have together right now…”

“I just wish I could go back and fix everything,” Negan’s body shook while you persuaded him out of the rest of his clothes. You massaged over Negan’s body, feeling how tense all of his muscles were. You were careful with how you touched him not knowing what hurt by how thin he had gotten. “I wish I could be with you and Ethan…”

“I wish you were too,” you sighed heavily, tipping in to kiss Negan’s forehead.

“I really let you down, huh? I tried my best and it wasn’t good enough,” Negan whimpered and you pulled back enough to caress over his strong jawline. “I took advantage of how much I loved being with you. I miss spending time with you and being with you. I got so used to just having you around, I didn’t realize how lucky I was to have you.”

“I was lucky to have you too,” you breathed, leaning in closer to him and you pressed a loving kiss over his lips. You realized what you said and breathed against his lips know you had to correct yourself, “I am lucky to have you.”

“All I’ve caused you is pain,” Negan frowned, his deep raspy voice causing you to shudder when he said it. “I’m paying the price for that right now.”

“How can I help you?” you gulped, setting the cloth down that you were using and you kneeled before Negan. “I can’t keep seeing you like this Negan…”

“You’re the only thing keeping me here Y/N. You and Ethan. You were the light that showed me the way, but those days when you aren’t here…the darkness swallows me fucking whole,” Negan explained in a heavy sigh. “You’re the only reason I’m still holding on.”

“Negan…” your lip trembled and Negan reached up to trace over your bottom lip with his thumb. “How can I…?”

Negan hushed you and urged you to continue to keep giving him a bath. He knew that you would be willing to help him in any way possible, but he didn’t want to push you into something you would eventually regret.

Finishing up with Negan’s bath, you ended with his hair to try and give it special care since the wounds were over his head from getting his hair cut. The sensation of Negan’s hands pressing up and over your hips was felt when you were close to him. Negan leaned forward and you felt him pushing up the material of your shirt making you gasp. At first Negan’s coarse fingertips caressed at your flesh before the sensation of his rough lips pressed in over your flesh. Your eyes closed tightly and a shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of him kissing your skin. “Negan?”

“Please…” Negan breathed out, looking up at you with his hazel eyes, a sense of desperation falling from his throat. Negan began to pull apart the buttons in your shirt, his lips following the movement while he did it. Your body shook and you watched him closely. It had been so long since you had been with Negan that the sensation of him kissing over your abdomen was so much more intense than you remembered. “It’s been so long since I’ve even been able to touch you. Please let me be with you. Hold you in my arms. I’m fucking miserable without being able to touch. Being able to talk…”

“I don’t know,” you began looking over your shoulder and you cleared your throat. You weren’t supposed to be in here with him and anyone could have realized you were missing in here with him. Negan looked up at you with begging eyes and you nodded slowly. It was hard to tell Negan no. Especially after everything that happened. Negan was careful in the way he helped you remove your clothes. He was very cautious and slow about everything. The way he took his time to touch you, it was like he memorizing every part of you all over again. It was unlike anything you had ever had with Negan in the past. The way his eyes looked you over and the way his fingers touched your skin made you feel alive again. “It’s been a while…”

“You’re beautiful,” Negan muttered, licking at his dry lips when he urged you carefully down on the cot with him. Negan cautiously moved in over you and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Negan’s lips were over yours, taking his time to kiss you. It brought back so many feelings, but at the same time felt so brand new. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered kissing Negan again, feeling different with having his big bushy beard against your face. While you knew it was Negan, it felt like you were this close and personal with someone different. Negan’s lips parted as he reached down between the two of you grabbing a firm hold of himself.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” Negan cussed to himself when you realized he was having a difficult time getting hard. “It’s just…been a while.”

“I get it,” you breathed out, reaching down to wrap your palm around his body. Negan’s head lowered down and you brushed your lips against the side of his neck kissing over the areas that you knew he had liked. Negan’s soft moans filled the air while you felt him stiffening in your hand as you pumped over his length. “Good boy…”

“Fuck,” he winced, looking down to watch you jerking him off in a very slow, careful way. Your touch easily woke something inside of Negan again while you kissed at his neck and pumped over his length. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Nodding, you watched Negan urge your hand from his body and push his hips up close to yours, resting himself between your thighs. Shuddering, you felt the tip of Negan’s erection pressing between your folds and you shook. It had been so long since you had sex with Negan. You were scared and nervous all over again, especially knowing that at any time someone could walk in and see what you were doing. You were just so eager to give Negan what he wanted after you had seen how touch starved he had become.

A gasp fell from both of your lips when Negan pushed his hips forward and the tip of his cock entered your body. You were tense at first and the muscle in Negan’s jaw was flexing while you hooked your arms tighter around his shoulders. Negan pressed his head forward to rest against yours and you clung tightly to him.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Negan leaned in to meet you in another kiss as he pushed his hips farther forward, pressing his length deeper within you. A wince fell from you throat and Negan’s eyes were hooked on yours to make sure you were okay. You were clinging tightly to him and you could tell that Negan was trying hard to keep it together. “You feel incredible.”

Reaching up, you hooked onto the small amount of hair that Negan did have and felt him start to move his hips in slow, unsteady movements. Clearly he was trying to be careful enough not to hurt you on the small cot they had set up for him in his jail cell. It took a few before Negan got a steady pace set between the two of you. It was slow and careful, but he was definitely more confident in his movements than he was when he first started.

Negan’s heavy breaths pressed in over your face and you gulped down heavily. Your body was still getting warmed up to Negan all over again since the last time you had slept with Negan was when you were pregnant with Ethan. Negan licked his lips and reached down with his right hand to caress at your body while he paused inside of you to give a moment to get used to him again. It must have been clear to him that you were tense with his length inside of you and he was attempting to open you up to him again.

Negan’s fingers circled over your sensitive bundle of nerves and tipped forward to bite at the side of your neck. You hummed in approval and cried out when his touch got more determined. Negan’s lips were over yours again in no time and the mixture of him kissing you, touching you and deep within you started to get your body extremely hot.

“Negan,” you whimpered out, your head dropping back while he watched you closely as if trying to memorize everything that was happening. Starting to arch your hips up and over his length, you heard Negan start to moan at your movements. You were eager to get him to start moving again, but he was allowing you to do what you wanted with him so you could get used to his cock all over again. “Please…”

“Are you okay?” Negan breathed and you quickly nodded. Negan’s hips started to gradually move again, but you tried to rock harder into him to get him to move a bit more. You begged for him again and again in his ear knowing that it would start a fuel in him in the past and it slowly started to work.

Clutching to Negan, you felt his very boney hips smacking up against you over and over again after your begging. Negan’s lips were over the side of your neck, teasing over the flesh while you caressed up and over his back. His large beard tickled against the side of your neck causing you to shudder. It was unlike anything you had felt before and you eagerly grabbed at Negan’s messy hair.

Since Negan was the last person you had sex with, this all felt entirely new and you were both clearly getting used to each other again. The fact you were doing this on a small, weak cot probably made this all the more awkward than it should have been too.

Negan pulled his head back and looked down between the two of you. His brow line creased and you urged him to look back up at you. You were eager to have that connection between you. You wanted this to be less about sex and more about the two of you connecting on an emotional level. His hazel eyes still seemed sad as he lowered in to meet your lips in another desperate kiss. Your thighs started shaking and you whimpered into his mouth when he bucked up harder against you. A rush of surprise flooded your body when Negan’s thrusts managed to get you to an orgasm and you clawed at his back making him wince, but continue with his movements. This was more so about him, but you felt like you were on the biggest high you had in a while as a hot rush of liquid warmth filled you.

His soft moans started to erupt from his throat and you could feel his body throbbing inside of you. Negan’s head tipped back, his Adam’s apple bouncing in throat as he closed his eyes. The way his jaw was twitching and flexed, it was obvious he was going to cum soon. You knew those expressions all too well from the past.

“Pull out before you cum,” you requested with a heavy breath, a small whimper falling from your lips when he smacked his hips harder against you. Negan lowered in closer to you and grabbed a tight hold of your arms, pinning your wrists down beside your head. Negan’s winces told you he was close and you tried pulling away from him.

“Negan, no…” you whispered hearing his grunts and groans against the side of your neck when his hips started bucking harder up against you. “Pull out, don’t cum inside me…”

“Sh…” Negan shook his head dropping his left hand to cover your mouth as he followed through with his thrusts. You tried reaching down with your free hand to push his hips back away from you, but he still was too powerful. The warmth of his cum filling you was felt as he bucked his hips up into you a few more times and you closed your eyes tightly. The pulsating of his cock inside of you was felt and you cried out into his hand. “It’s okay…”

Tears pressed in over your eyes as Negan nestled his nose against the side of your neck when you had realized what he had done. Your head flooded with the thoughts of you being alone during a majority of your pregnancy and you weren’t ready for that again.

“You shouldn’t have cum in me,” you felt him weakly pulling his hand away from your lips and he tilted his head to the side. Negan reached for the base of his cock and squeezed at it a few more times before carefully pulling his body from yours. He stopped at the tip to make sure he got everything out in his release before pulling his hips back. It caused you to tremor when he did it and you could feel your body shaking. “I don’t want to get pregnant again. I’m already raising Ethan on my own and…”

“What happens if something were to happen to one of us? Ethan needs a sibling, he can’t be alone. I’m not going to last much longer,” Negan shuddered and you frowned feeling him reach up to caress away your tears with his rough thumb. It was clear by his response that this was his plan the whole time. “I barely get to see my son. They don’t let me out of here to see him. Rick lets you bring him down here to see me, but the only time I’ve been out of these bars is when you were having him. I can’t hug my son without these bars in the way. I can’t play ball with my son. I can’t teach him the ways of life. I’m just waiting to die Y/N and it’s going to happen...”

“No…not it’s not,” you shook your head refusing to hear what Negan was selling and he lowered in to rest his forehead against yours. His sobs were heard and you didn’t know how to react while you caressed at the back of his neck. “You can’t leave me alone like that.”

“That’s why I did this,” Negan grunted, his eyes lifting when he looked you over. “Ethan…he deserves more. You deserve more.”

“You have no idea how hard it is raising Ethan all on my own. Especially with the way people are here,” you stammered feeling Negan’s palm caressing over the side of your face. You leaned into his touch and felt him lean down to cuddle his head against the side of your neck. Negan was still somewhat crying and you didn’t know how to handle what just happened.

“I know how hard it is not getting to see him, but you are so fucking strong,” Negan whispered against the side of your neck, cuddling his naked body closer to yours. It was clear he was craving the touch and the warmth of human contact. He was clingy and you felt it. You weren’t happy with what he had done, but you still wrapped your arms around him to hold him close. “I thought Daryl tried to sell that Ethan was his for a while.”

“You put a fucking bat in his little hands, give him stubble….and Ethan looks exactly like you,” you pointed out and Negan chuckled against the side of your neck. “Everyone knows. They all do. Ethan knows. I never hid that from him.”

“He does look like me,” Negan agreed with a half laugh, but while it was the first time he sounded somewhat happy, he still sounded weak. Negan’s warm breaths filled the air and you felt him clinging to you tighter. “I can’t believe they let you in here in here to see me.”

“Baby, you have to realize I’m sneaking in to do this, right?” you pointed out with a heavy sigh and Negan lifted his head, his tired eyes meeting yours. “I’d do anything to be around you.”

“I love you…” he swore, lifting up enough to meet your lips in a quick kiss. His head lowered and he cuddled up against the side of your neck again. There was a silence between the both of you for a few minutes before you heard Negan’s warm breaths filling the air. It was almost like a rhythm that made you calm for the first time in quite a while before you found yourself drifting off. You didn’t realize how long you were out, but before long the sound of the door slamming open filled the air. Negan’s head lifted and you heard his arrogant laugh fill the air. “Look at this…we have a voyeur, huh?”

Before you could acknowledge what was happening, you saw hands reaching for Negan and felt his slender body being pulled from you. Negan’s grunt filled the air when you quickly reached for your clothes to put them back on. The sound of Negan’s body hitting the wall hard was heard and you tried to hastily pull your clothes together when you watched Daryl lunging himself at a naked Negan.

“You don’t get to touch her!” Daryl demanded stepping back a minute and Negan looked up at Daryl with his wicked eyes. There was blood pooling at Negan’s bottom lip and Negan spit some of it out.

“Oh, I was doing more than just touching her,” Negan winked before Daryl swung his fist out and the sound of it connecting with Negan’s face filled the air. Negan hit the ground like a bag of bricks and you tried to step in front of Negan, but were only met by Daryl’s shove.

“Daryl!” you called out trying to grab at his chest as he beat at Negan over and over again. Negan had his head covered with his slender arms while you tried to get yourself between the two of them. Negan’s body was shaking while Daryl kicked into Negan’s ribs over and over again. “Stop it now! Please!”

“He’s not allowed to fucking touch you,” Daryl snarled and when he went to hit Negan again, you slid down in front of Negan putting your body between the two. Negan was tremoring on the floor while you glared up at Daryl. “You’re picking him? Again?!”

“It was always him! I’ve never not picked him,” you snapped, watching Daryl’s chest rising and falling. He looked between you and Negan who still had his head covered. Daryl snarled and moved to leave after kicking at the cot that they had for Negan. Negan’s heavy breaths filled the air and you felt him flinch when Daryl slammed the door shut after leaving. Looking to Negan, you reached out to touch him and felt him jump against your caress. “Baby?”

“Don’t…” Negan stammered with a whimper while you gave him a minute to calm down. Reaching for his hands, you pulled them away from his head and saw the blood that was over his lips. He was shaking and you pulled him up further into your arms. There was something about the way that Negan’s eyes were that showed you he was a whole lot more screwed up than he led on.

“Is this the first time you’ve been beat like that?” you caressed your fingertips over the side of his face. Negan gulped down heavily and lowered his head while you felt him curling up to lay in your lap. You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you thought about the idea of someone beating Negan. Your jaw was tightening in anger as you felt Negan’s fingers wrapping tightly around yours. By his response this happened and it happened a lot.

It was a few minutes before the door slammed open again and you saw Daryl storming back down the stairs. Daryl reached for you and pulled you up from the ground with the strength that he had and you felt Negan’s hands grasping to yours.

“Please…please don’t make her leave,” Negan begged and you tried to yank away from Daryl, but the power of his tug was much stronger than that of Negan’s. Once Daryl pulled you far enough away he locked up the cell and Negan crawled to the bars. Daryl kicked at the bucket of soapy water making Negan jump when it splashed over him. “Please…you won’t let me see my son. You take away my wife…”

“You’d be dead if it was my choice. It’s where you belong and your son would be better off,” Daryl spat before tossing you over his shoulder and carrying you out of the cell. Daryl slammed the door shut and walked with you struggling over his shoulder. Daryl tossed you down onto the grass of your front lawn when you let out a wince as you hit the ground hard. “You fucking slept with Negan?”

“What does it mean to you?” you looked up at Daryl as his face twisted with anger. “How did you even know I was there?”

“I came back here to talk to you about what happened earlier,” Daryl spoke up after a minute, a frown pressing over his features. “We kissed and I thought…I thought we should talk about it. I talked to Aaron who told me where you were. When I came by and saw you two lying together naked through the window…”

The sound of the door opening up was heard and you looked back over your shoulder to see that Aaron was standing in the doorway after he clearly heard you two fighting.

“I thought we had something,” Daryl explained, ignoring the fact that you now had an audience. It was clear that he was hurt by you sleeping with Negan and you didn’t know what to say. “I thought what we had going was special.”

“Daryl, I love you,” you explained with a loud sigh and you stood up slowly from the ground, trying to reach for his hands, but he yanked them away from you. “I love you so much, but I love you like a best friend. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m in love with Negan. I’ve always been in love with Negan.”

“This last year…we’ve gotten close and I just thought,” Daryl threw his hands in the air and let out a frustrated grunt. “How can you love him?”

“I just do,” you tried to reach for him and he shoved you away from him with a grunt. “Daryl, I do care about you. I think you’re an amazing person and…”

“Fuck you,” Daryl spat making your chest tighten when he looked toward the house. “Fuck you and fuck your kid. I’m done with you both.”

“Daryl,” you tried to reach out to talk to him, but he stormed off and you looked to the house to see that Aaron was giving you a disgusted look when you returned to the steps.

“You slept with Negan?” Aaron’s nose wrinkled in disgust and you rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe you did that to Daryl.”

“You can’t believe that I slept with my husband?” you snapped and Aaron’s blue eyes narrowed out at you. “You can’t make someone love another person. I love him Aaron, but I’m not in love with Daryl. I love Negan…”

“And you’re going to regret that one day,” Aaron explained looking over to the center of the living room where Gracie and Ethan were playing together. “I’m going to take my daughter home, but I can’t imagine the rest of the night going very well for you after what you did.”

And boy was he right. Your night ended with Rick showing up at your place to tell you off for what you had done. When Gabriel had showed up with Rick, you had apologized for stealing the keys to the cell from Gabriel and put the blame on yourself. You didn’t want Gabriel in trouble for something that you had persuaded him to help you with. Gabriel let you take the blame, but you didn’t care. Gabriel had left likely not wanting to get pulled into the fight any further with what was happening between you and Rick.

“I can’t believe you. After all the faith I’ve put in you,” Rick continued to lecture you and you felt overwhelmed by the amount of time you had been getting yelled at. “We were starting to trust you and I asked you of one thing…”

“Negan is still in jail. I bathed my husband because your people beat him,” you snapped and Rick’s words came to a halt as you looked him over. “You don’t let him be touched and the people that do touch him beat the hell out of him. You think what happened with his hair was his fault? Bullshit! All you have to do is take one look at him and know that someone did that on purpose.”

Rick swallowed down hard and dropped down in one of the seats in the living room while you pinched at the bridge of your nose, “You are acting like I did something awful. I slept with my husband. He’s not set loose. I didn’t help him out of Alexandria. There is nothing he gained other than to be able to be bathed by someone who doesn’t hate him and it had been so long since someone had touched him or even talked to him. You’re telling me that if you and Michonne were in a similar situation, you wouldn’t do the same thing? Hell, you would do anything to get to be with your family. Negan is listening to your rules. He didn’t try to escape and I’m not trying to get him out of here. We listen to what you want, but he should be able to hold his son. See his son and be able to have someone to talk to.”

“Two weeks,” Rick swallowed down, his blue eyes narrowing out at you. “Two weeks you aren’t allowed to see him because of this.”

“What?” you snapped, standing up from where you were sitting and he shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t keep my son away from his father for two weeks. We only have a few hours with him twice a week Rick.”

“You should have thought about that before you did what you did,” Rick growled from where he was sitting. “Negan doesn’t get to have the happy life. He’s in jail and he’s in jail for a reason. We aren’t here to make him comfortable.”

“He’s not even trying to leave Rick. He just wants to be able to have people to talk to. He just wants to hold and play with his son,” you begged and Rick scowled. “You and I are friends Rick. Why are you doing this? You are taking away from my son…”

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m just not really thinking about your son because mine is gone and if I wasn’t off focusing on your husband, my son might still be here,” Rick retorted in a scream and Rick heard the sound of Ethan crying from upstairs. The expression over Rick’s face changed and he began to pace in the living room, his hands firmly planted on his hips. “You’re lucky I give you what I do already.”

“You’re a good man Rick, but what you’re doing is cruel. You can see that people are abusing Negan in that cell. I’m not asking you to give him a room here in this house or let him live the good life, I’m asking you to let him see his son,” you tried to plead with Rick and his jaw flexed. “You aren’t the man that I thought you were.”

“And clearly you aren’t the woman that everyone thought you were here either,” Rick licked at his lips and you nodded up toward the stairs.

“The people here thought I would do anything to break Negan out, so fuck you Rick,” you grunted moving for the steps and Rick followed you toward the stairs. “If you will forgive me, my son is crying and I have to make sure he is okay.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to be in charge,” Rick spoke up once you made it halfway up the stairs. “I’m the only person here that wants Ethan to have some kind of relationship with his father. Everyone else wants your husband dead. You have to see that, right? I’m doing the best I can do.”

“And I appreciate you for all you have done, but at the same time…you have to realize how wrong this is,” you held tightly onto the railing of the stairs and Rick’s saddened blue eyes looked away from you.

“I’m trying,” Rick stammered from the step he was on and you felt your chest aching after everything that happened. “I just hope at some point you can see that.”

And at that, Rick left you alone to yourself and you let out a frustrated sound. Rick was angry with you, Daryl was done with you and Aaron was disgusted with you. This all turned out great in the long run, but you never once regretted letting Negan feel loved again, you just wished people would understand that.

----

It seemed like when shit hit the fan, it really did. Over the last few weeks there had been apparently several new altercations with Saviors and it had caused people to treat you differently in Alexandria. It seemed like whenever they had caused shit behind the walls of Alexandria, many would often blame you. Even though you were there helping others, bad things had kept happening. Aaron had been hurt in an accident. Tension was higher than ever after everything and you just didn’t know where your place in Alexandria stood after you did what you had with Negan.

Rick had come to you and told you that without getting to see you and Ethan those few weeks, Negan just got worse. He was eating even less and he had just gotten angrier. Rick had mentioned that maybe it was for the best to keep you away from Negan which of course you had pled not to let happen. Rick had other things to deal with and thankfully had not told others of this plan which allowed you to still see Negan.

When you had gone in to see Negan there was something different about him. Rick was right. He was miserable and he no longer hid it. He tried his best to be loving with Ethan, but there was something different in his eyes that just said he had given up. That the punishment you received those few weeks of not being able to see him had just completely turned something off inside of Negan. You thought by doing what you had done that it would give Negan hope again, but it just had caused Negan to go in the complete opposite direction after the punishment you had received.

In the weeks you would go to visit Negan, you tried making things right again with him and while Negan was eager to be with you and Ethan, nothing just seemed to work. He was sad and there was definitely something inside of him that was broken.

You had begun to notice that you were starting to feel sick and had gone to Siddiq. You had just assumed that maybe you had caught a flu bug, but people had urged you to check with him just in case.

“You don’t have a fever,” Siddiq informed you with a heavy sigh. “So you’re throwing up and getting sick? Feeling dizzy?”

“Yeah,” you breathed sitting in the corner of the room and you let out a frustrated sound when you put two and two together. “Shit…”

“You’re pregnant?” Siddiq suggested and a long groan fell from your lips. Your head fell back and a slew of curse words fell from your lips. “I mean that may not be it, but have you had your period?”

“No, I haven’t,” you groaned inwardly and felt the room spinning around you. You couldn’t believe that this happened. When you tried getting pregnant with Negan at first it took many times to actually have it go through so you were just hoping that this would be another case of that. “Fuck…”

“What do you need me to do for you?” Siddiq dropped down in front of you, reaching out for your hands to pull you in closer to him in a friendly manner. “I can help you in any way I know how.”

“I’m screwed,” you breathed out knowing that it had already been so hard raising Ethan alone by yourself, the idea of another baby absolutely terrified you. “I wish I could turn back time, I tell you that.”

“These things happen,” Siddiq tried to reason with you and you nodded slowly. “You’re a great mom Y/N; everything is going to be okay.”

And with that throughout the rest of the day you found yourself at a loss of words. You weren’t ready to be pregnant again. You weren’t ready to go through all of this shit all over again on your own. Raising Ethan only was hard enough.

Today was your day to be with Negan and you knew that you were going to have to tell Negan. You got Ethan prepared to go see Negan and you moved to Negan’s jail cell. Everyone seemed to be tense around Alexandria, but you weren’t really sure why. Hours had passed since you had your interaction with Siddiq and you had pretty much spent most of the time to yourself with Ethan. Since those in Alexandria weren’t really fond of you, you found yourself staying away from others, so you weren’t up on the newest gossip.

Moving to the entrance of Negan’s cell with Ethan in your arms, you watched the person guarding the door quickly stumble up the stairs. Your heart hammered in your chest when you saw the guard looking back.

“No…” the guard stood before you and held his hands up in the air to block you from taking Ethan into the cell with Negan. He looked over his shoulder and gulped down heavily. “Maggie was here earlier.”

“What do you mean Maggie was here earlier?” you tried to move forward. Your heart hammered in your chest at the thought and you felt yourself panicking. You could only imagine what happened to Negan. What it was like in that cell and you felt Ethan clinging to you tightly. You knew that Maggie wanted nothing more than to kill Negan and Rick had stressed that to you. He had warned you that one day both Daryl and Maggie would make sure to make an attempt at Negan. To know that she was there only made you think the absolute worst about everything. “Talk to me!”

“He’s alive,” the guard insisted with a gulp and you could feel yourself relaxing, but not much. “It’s just…you don’t want Ethan to see him. He…hurt himself pretty bad after she left. She came to kill him, but something…something changed her mind. Right now everyone is by the bridge because something huge happened, but they won’t tell us what.”

“He hurt himself?” you repeated the words and saw the guard nod. You wanted to listen to everything else the guard was talking about, but the idea that Negan hurt himself was something that stood out in your mind and the fact that he didn’t want Ethan to see Negan like that meant it had to be pretty bad. “What do you mean?”

“The other day he had a talk with Michonne that ended with him bashing his head into the wall and he was bleeding pretty good from his head. Today after Maggie left, he tried doing it even harder,” the guard explained and you felt your heart drop. Your pulse was racing and the guard nodded. “I don’t want Ethan to have to see that.”

“If I get someone to watch Ethan, will you let me in to see Negan?” you begged and the guard nodded. So that’s exactly what you did. You found someone to watch over Ethan for you and you quickly made your way back to Negan’s cell. You were nervous, scared and angry all the same time, but you were attempting to keep your cool.

Moving down the steps, you reached for the door that led to Negan’s cell. You pulled it open and stepped inside. Your heart was racing and you could hear Negan crying. Stepping into the room, you closed the door behind you and looked over your shoulder. There was something that you had kept from everyone for a while and that was that you managed to keep the key Gabriel had given you. You had snatched it from them just in case and in the midst of the trouble that was caused, people had just forgotten about it since there were multiple keys to his cell.

Stepping in closer, you inserted the key and pulled open the cell. Closing the door behind you, you stepped forward and saw that Negan was shaking. Looking to the side of Negan’s bed you could see that there was a dry pool of blood on the cement floor. There were long lines of blood on the wall of the cell as well and you gulped down heavily.

“Baby?” you spoke up and Negan’s breathing had changed realizing that it was you in the cell with him, but he still refused to move.

Looking to Negan, he had his head down in his hands. He wasn’t saying a word to you and you could see by his hands that they were bruised with dried blood sliding down them. Kneeling down, you reached for Negan’s hands and felt him fighting you. He was trying to keep you from seeing what he had clearly done. Using the strength you had, you pulled his hands away from his face and saw the bruises that covered his face. There were cuts over Negan’s face and his face was still bloody from his attack on himself.

“What did you do?” you snapped, reaching out to try and touch Negan, but he turned his head away in shame. “What did you do Negan?”

“I should be dead, she was supposed to finish the job,” Negan grumbled under his breath, his hands shaking and you could feel a rage overcoming you as you saw Negan’s eyes damp. Negan started to cry harder and a chill expanded down your spine. “I belong in the dirt. I should be dead, with Lucille.”

The whole world stood still when he said those last words. You thought Negan was miserable because he couldn’t be with you and Ethan. You thought that Negan was in a bad place because he had no one to be with him, but when you heard him mention Lucille, it seemed like everything came crashing down around you. Especially now that you knew you were pregnant with Negan’s second child.

“I should be dead. I deserve to be dead,” Negan whimpered and you looked down toward the ground. “I want to be with Lucille. I don’t belong here. I don’t know why I’m still here.”

“You son of a bitch,” you felt your anger getting the best of you listening to him whine. Negan’s swollen eyes looked up at you as you lifted your hand and smacked him firmly. You put a lot of power into the smack and it echoed throughout the small room. Negan’s head jolted with the hit and a groan fell from his throat. The look on Negan’s face showed he was shocked as you went to hit him again and he lifted his shaky hands to keep you from hitting his face. You smacked at him over and over again hearing his cries fill the air. You were violently hitting at him and Negan’s grunts filled the air with the hits. “Is that all you care about? Being dead? Being with Lucille?!”

“I’m no good here. I deserve to be dead. I should be dead! Rick should have never saved me that day,” Negan screamed out and you felt your body shaking. Your hands hurt from hitting at Negan so many times, but you didn’t care. “I am as good as dead. I want to see Lucille again. They took away my son. They took away Lucille. They took away you…”

“You don’t care about your son,” you snarled feeling your blood boiling as Negan pulled his hands away from his head and stared out at you. “You wouldn’t be trying to kill yourself if you loved your son or if you loved me. All you fucking care about is Lucille, it’s all you ever cared about. Lucille and yourself.”

Negan was still crying, nothing escaping his lips. No smart remarks, nothing to say other than the tremors of whimpers that were falling from his throat.

“I understand you not loving me, but your son did nothing wrong. Your son doesn’t deserve this. Ethan is almost two years old and he deserves better than this,” you snapped at Negan watching him start to cry more and you reached out to hit him again hearing the grunt that escaped his lips. The hit this time caused a loud echo in the cell and you felt the jolt from the hit filling your entire arm.

Negan blocked his body and fell over onto his side on the bed trying to keep himself protected from your smacks and hits. “Ethan loves you, damn it!”

“You heard Daryl! I’m better off dead. It’s the best possible thing that could ever happen to Ethan. I’m awful. I’m evil and I deserve to be put in the ground,” Negan whimpered back through his tears and you felt yourself getting overwhelmed with the emotions you were feeling. “They never let me hold my son! I’m not allowed to touch anyone! I’m not allowed to hold my son at night or tell him I love him. I’m not allowed to have family moments with my wife or son…what use is it with me fucking being here? I tried so hard to kill myself and I couldn’t even do that right. I’m a fuck up!”

Another smack filled the air as Negan winced and covered his head after you smacked him several more times, “You self-centered piece of shit.”

Negan was still crying as you tried to stop yourself from exploding any further. You were so mad at Negan that you almost felt like you could kill him yourself at this point, “I asked you...I begged you not to fucking cum inside me. I slept with you because you begged me. You hadn’t been touched in so long and I was trying to show you the love you deserved. The love you had been missing out on…”

Negan’s head slowly lifted after you had stopped smacking him and he looked up to see you cry, “I begged you to pull out and you didn’t listen. On the day I find out I’m fucking pregnant because of you, you try to kill yourself!?”

“You’re pregnant?” Negan repeated with a gulp and you nodded, dropping down into the corner of the cell. You lowered your head in your hands and heard Negan let out a sound between his cries that showed he didn’t quite understand. “But…how?”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you lifted your head to see Negan wiping at his face sitting on the edge of the bed. His body was stiff and he didn’t seem to believe what you were saying.

“It was so hard to get pregnant before and we just…it was just once. I really didn’t think it’d work,” Negan muttered with a whimper and you laughed before rolling your eyes. “You’re not just saying this to keep me from trying to kill myself again, are you?”

“I wish I was,” you responded and heard Negan get up from the cot. He winced when he stood and moved across the small space to lower down in front of you. When he tried to touch you, you pulled away from him like he was fire. Negan dropped on the floor in front of you after taking the hint that you didn’t want to be touched and you could see him rubbing at the back of his neck. “Unfortunately, your plan worked.”

“I just…I haven’t been eating or…” Negan’s hands shook and he looked at his weakened state.

“Apparently your lack of made your swimmers really potent,” you lowered your head in your hands and after a moment you felt Negan sliding in beside you. His arms wrapped loosely around you and you allowed it. “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

“You beat the shit out of me,” Negan laughed and you groaned inwardly as Negan urged you to cuddle into his chest and he rest his chin over your head. “I understand it now and I honestly deserve a lot worse.”

“I can’t believe you tried to leave us. Ethan, me…” you looked down toward your stomach hating to know that you were going to be alone again through the pregnancy and the raising of the next baby.

“I’m sorry, you guys just…deserve better than me,” Negan insisted and you rolled your eyes. The warmth of Negan holding onto you felt amazing, but you were angry. You were upset and you didn’t want to be this close to him right now after what he had done and said. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You don’t,” you agreed and Negan frowned when you looked up at him. “But we have a son together and I am so in love with you that it’s ridiculous. My whole week is planned around the time that I get to come here and see you. It’s the only thing that makes me happy in this world other than our son. We look forward to the days that we get to be in here with you. And now we have another baby on the way.”

Negan leaned in to press a loving kiss against your temple and you started to cry. Negan was eager to try and pull you into his arms while rocking with you close to him. You two were silent for quite some time, but your mind was still on how Negan tried to kill himself.

“How am I still second best to Lucille?” you breathed out and Negan sighed heavily. “How come I will never measure up?”

Negan was quiet and you lifted your head to see his eyes shifting, “Maybe it’s best not to answer that because I don’t think I’ll be happy with the answer…”

“It should have been me that died. Not her,” Negan explained, licking at his lips. “I was the bad person, not her. That’s what has me so fucked up. I should have been the one in the hospital bed dying. Not her. Fate fucked up.”

“I see,” you gulped down and bit at your bottom lip. “So does that mean that both Ethan and I are a mistake?”

“You two are the best thing I’ve ever done,” Negan answered with a saddened breath. “But there is nothing good you will ever get from me being here.”

“I die if you die,” you explained and your brutal honesty seemed to take Negan aback. “I can’t live in a world without you in it. I have existed this long because I want to be with you. I want you happy, but I want to be happy too and you make me happy. You make your son happy and if I have a world where you don’t exist, I will never be happy.”

“But you’re better than I am,” Negan insisted with a frown. “You know that.”

“I’ve given up everything for you,” you whimpered feeling yourself starting to cry again. “You have no idea how much I fucked up after that stunt I pulled with you Negan. I love you, but everyone I cared about is mad at me. I picked you over everything and I will continue to pick you over everything other than our son. I just wish you would do the same for me. The same for your son…”

“I’ll try,” Negan swallowed down hard, moving in to press a loving kiss against your temple. You didn’t know if you could trust Negan, but he was holding you tighter than he was before and he was trying to hush you while you broke down in his arms. “I swear.”

#Negan #negan x reader #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan smut #negan fanfiction #twd smut #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #my writing

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honestlyhoneystuff · 4 years

Text

Bang Chan NSFW A-Z

A (Aftercare- what they’re like after sex)

Literally the sweetest after sex. The type to make sure you’re okay first before anything and then going and getting you something to clean off with. Will even run you a bath or hop in the shower with you (or if you wanna clean up alone will head to the kitchen to make you a snack and grab some water for you). After words he’d cuddle you until you fall asleep or get up to do something else.

B (Body Part- Their favorite body part on you and themselves)

On you I’d say he’s a sucker for you eyes in a non sexual way (and sometimes even sexual cause eye contact during sex is a big thing for him.) And in a sexual way he’d say your thighs because he loves grabbing them during sex, cumming on them, and even cuddling into your lap.

On himself boy loves his arms. He knows how weak you get over his veins and hands. He loves being able to make you weak just from a simple grab or touch. He also loves how he can pick you up at any time he wants and place you on something or against the wall.

C (Cum- Favorite place to cum)

I Think he really enjoys cumming on your thighs/ass. Maybe even on your stomach. He’d only cum inside if he was wearing a condom cause the thought of getting you pregnant literally terrifies him.

D (Dirty Fantasy- Secret or Not)

Total cliche but Chan might actually wanna try to take you in the studio. But the doors have to be locked and it’ll have to be late at night when no one else is around. Also the type to record your moans and sneak them into the next song he produces.

E (Experience- How experienced are they?)

I don’t think Chan is that experienced. He might have had his first time but chances are boys most likely still a virgin. He’s been a trainee for a long time and only focuses on his work so sleeping around and girls in general is just something he’s not that interested in right now. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he’s doing tho.

F (Favorite Position)

I think missionary is his go to favorite. Doggy when he’s feeling a bit more rough and dominant but most nights he wants to see your face and see how he’s making you feel. Also he has access to whisper in your ear and touch your chest and clit easily.

G (Goofy- How goofy are they during sex?)

Honestly while I think Chan would be more serious during sex I do think occasionally you’d get a goofy moment. He’s very laid back so I don’t think he’s afraid to just chill and vibe during sex. Also if something goofy happens he’d be very mature about it but also goof about (not to the extent of embarrassing you or anything though.)

H (Hair- How do they look down there)

I feel like Chan is really well groomed. Unless he gets really busy and forgets or is too lazy but I mean the boy drinks straight pineapple juice like he KNOWS things lol so he probs takes care of himself a lot. Also likes a happy trail (lol me too)

I (Intimacy- How intimate can they get and when?)

While Chan can be goofy sometimes I also think he can get very intimate as well. He takes his career and life very seriously and I think that would transfer into his relationship as well. Also if you were having a bad day or just felt like you weren’t good enough or anything he’d make the whole night about you (like he doesn’t already lol) and just make you feel good and loved.

J (Jack Off- Do they and how often)

I really don’t think he does it that often. He’s really busy most of the time so I think that even thinking about anything that could get him hard is very rare. Jacks off maybe once a week if that.

K (Kinks- top Kinks they might have)

BABYGIRL/BOY- He calls stays babygirl all the time so I KNOW he’d call his s/o that as well. He likes the dominating aspect of it and while he doesn’t partake in the Daddy title of it he does enjoy how submissive you can get for him especially if it’s just because he called you that.

Manhandling- He’s got some pretty nice muscles and he knows how weak you get for his arms so he uses that against you by picking you up all the time..either to push you against the wall, put you on a table or the bed, or flip you into another position.

Choking- I actually think he really likes this. Mostly for the trust aspect of it (and also the dominance it gives him) may even be open to you trying it on him.

Soft Dom/Switch- while I know this isn’t a kink I want to talk about it here. He’s really open to letting you top once in a while and even kind of borders on the no power play aspect a lot of the time.

L (Location- Where they like to have sex and places they might try)

I think Chan would like to stay in the bedroom. It’s where he feels most comfortable and having someone accidentally walk in on you is a less likely thing. I think he might even try the shower but he’d wanna be safe so he might only go as far as oral if that.

M (Motivation- What gets them going)

You. Chan’s pretty new to the whole dating and sex thing so thinking about the fact that he finally has someone to do it with would get him hot fast. Also if you give him a certain look, and he was in a position to take care of you or take you somewhere he could, that would get him hard in a second.

N (No- What are their turn offs and what they absolutely wouldn’t do)

I don’t think Chan would be into super hard kinks that bring harm to either one of you. He might spank you every once in a while but straight slapping might definitely be a no go. Also having threesomes is something I don’t think he’d be into.

O (Oral- How would the give/receive and what they prefer)

I think he would prefer to give oral more than receive. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like receiving, Chan is just a sweetheart that wants to make you feel good and doesn’t want to pressure you into doing it back if you don’t want to.

P (Pace- How is their pace? Fast and rough or deep and slow?)

He could really be a mix of both. Most times a normal but deep pace, on nights he’s feeling more intimate slower and deeper, and on nights where he might be a little mad and just need to fuck out some stress its rough and hard.

Q (Quickies- How do they feel about them?)

I don’t think he’d be to into them because he really wants to take his time with you. But if you were really needy and he really didn’t have much time he would possibly get you off with his fingers before anything else.

R (Risk- How risky are they? Do they experiment or stay safe?)

Chan plays it safe. He doesn’t want anyone to see you the way that he does and he doesn’t want to get caught by the public because that could ruin his and the boys’ careers.

S (Stamina- How many rounds can they go?)

Depending on how hard he went. Usually a normal night he might go 2 rounds, if he's super stressed he could hit 3 or even 4 if you could handle it. And on nights where he’s slow and sweet then most likely 1 but it’ll be long with a lot of foreplay and chances are he’d make you cum by his finger and mouth before even fucking you.

T (Toys- Do they use them on themselves or their partner?)

If you had toys that you used in your alone time he wouldn’t mind it but he wouldn’t bring those into the bedroom to use on you and definitely not on himself.

U (Unfair- How much do they tease?)

I don’t think he teases very often. If he does it’s probably because you started it or he got a little jealous.

V (Volume- How loud are they and what do they sound like?)

Quiet for the most part with nice deep groans in your ear. Def the type to talk to you during whether its for consent purposes or dirty talk. He’s also the type to talk you through your orgasm tell me I’m wrong.

W (Wild Card- Random head canon or scenario)

Chan excludes a lot of non sexual dominance when y’all are together. Mostly out in town and with other people (even the other boys) The type to help guide you around places by an arm around our waist or saying little phrases that kill you on the inside like: “come here baby”, “let me help you”, “sit on my lap” (or sexually- “sit on my lap kitten/baby”). Also the type to get onto you for swearing. Now I’m not saying Chan’s a straight Daddy but boys a daddy lol just without the title (he’d probs giggle every time you say it like let’s be honest with ourselves.)

X (X-Ray- What are they packing?)

Maybe not the longest but he’s packing some girth. A good 5 to 5.5 inches maybe.

Y (Yearning- How high is their sex drive?)

Honestly not that high. Unless it’s a time where he hasn’t seen you in a while or he just hits one of those moods where he only wants to be with you and through that comes a lot of sex.

Z (ZZZ- How quick do they fall asleep after?)

Wouldn’t fall asleep unless you did first and even then when you did he would also get up to go get some stuff done. If you didn’t fall asleep then he’d lay there talking with you for the next couple of hours until you did or either of you had to go do something. Would also put on the tv after to watch or have background noise. If you were still needy might even sneak in another round after some rest.

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #bang chan #skz smut

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polygamyff · 4 years

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61.

I took in a deep breath; I had a restless night and it’s my nerves I think. I mean tomorrow I will be a married woman; this is actually happening this time. I feel extremely nervous about this but not as nervous as my mother, she is so emotional that she is giving me away which to me is perfect because I want someone that loves and adores me to do this, it doesn’t really bother me that Thomas is not doing it. It was sweet that my uncle offered, he offered to walk me down the aisle, it was nice to hear that from him and I can’t thank them enough with the love they show me constantly, I do need them to stop getting so emotional on me though. Looking over at Maurice asleep still, it’s early and I just can’t sleep. We have really narrowed down the list, we literally have space. Maurice is dead against everyone, it’s me saying no let them come. With my family, the Latin side. I have my grandparents, my aunties and uncles and that is it, Maurice said no to anything else and out of my mom’ side, just auntie Gloria. Maurice is eliminating any person that hates him, Gloria is harmless, so he says. But it’s going to be a very intimate wedding, and to me that is perfect. We are having the people that are happy for us and I am so excited, the Saudi prince is coming too and he always likes me, he has the utmost respect for me which is nice to see but I wonder which wife he will bring with him. God, I am so nervous. I am happy and excited too because I am marrying my best friend, I can’t wait to just grow old with him. Pushing the covers off of me, let me just get out of bed because I will get to a point where I will just wake him just to annoy him. Getting up to sit on the edge of my bed, touching my stomach. I can’t wait for this baby to arrive; I feel like I am ready for it so I am excited.

“Hey, Robyn. Bonita, baby” vaguely hearing Maurice say “mhmm” I groaned out moving “mommy don’t want to wake up, baby. Wake up” opening my eyes slowly “I fell asleep” looking around me, clearly I did on the couch “yeah, Reign was crying in the crib but I didn’t see you in the bed. I saw you here asleep with the TV on, you good?” Maurice asked, nodding my head as I stretched out “yeah I am, I couldn’t sleep in the bed but clearly can sleep” Maurice lowered Reign to me “what are you doing?” I questioned “I want to have a shower and stuff, also I need to pee” nodding my head “morning Reign” Maurice gently placed Reign on me but she was quick to crawl on me “woah!” grabbing her legs “you out here trying to crawl on my new love?” she whined out because she can’t move, letting her legs go and lifted her up myself, she took her pacifier out “give mommy a kiss?” poking my lips out, Reign headbutted my lips “thanks” she put her pacifier back in her mouth and then rested her head on my chest “you are a big girl now” wrapping my arms around her “you want snuggles with mommy” I swear I thought I wasn’t tired but clearly I am, I probably got bored of watching Kim Kardashian.

Smiling at Reign yanking Rich’ covers from him, this man is still here sleeping on the couch “hey, I am naked here stop it” I hope the fuck not but Reign still proceeded to pull at the covers, she wants them off “I am joking, I have sweatpants on and a tee, nobody wants to see this white body now” Rich let the covers fall “oh no!” he gasped, Reign looked at me laughing “you are naughty, she does it to Maurice but the difference with that is he can be naked sometimes. Nobody wants to see that” Reign is trying to put it back on him now “no, it’s ok. I don’t want it” Rich got up from the couch “well I mean clearly you want to see that, I mean” he laughed pointing at me and Reign “you got pregnant again, so I guess you like that shit” he shrugged “maybe I closed my eyes” I pointed at Rich, he pointed back at me “or maybe you are lying” he is annoying, Reign is touching Rich’ arm “oh my god Reign-Texas! Are you touching other men!?” Reign jumped at Maurice’ voice which made me laugh, she was quick to move “oh wow Reign, you out here touching other men” I laughed at my daughter running to her dad, my poor daughter. Maurice is not shit at all “so Rich, you got your suit ready for the wedding?” looking at him “yes and no, I need to go and pick it up. Also, I wanted to ask, can I bring my mom?” I cooed out “that is cute, I say yes. Ignore what Maurice says, is she coming alone?” I asked “yes, just me and my mom. I just thought I need a date so why not, but she doesn’t mind being alone, but I totally understand if you think no?” shaking my head “no, bring her. That is cute, mother and son. Also, Maurice will say no, ignore him” feeling Maurice sit next to me “I can say no, I am the boss” here he goes “whatever” waving him off.

The way I am gagging over the fact there is eggs on my plate, let me just stop eating this. Pushing my plate, a little “this is nice, I love your mom. Is she living with us?” Rich pointed the fork at me “us?” I retorted “yes us, your home is my home too. Like when you on your honeymoon I am there, also Maurice said I have to do a sex tape for you both?” Maurice laughed like a goof and then Reign copied him “excuse me?” I said to Rich “ask him, he asked me” looking at Maurice “Robyn, he is lying to you. You get so worked up; the honeymoon is just us two. Rich is just being annoying” he is saying that but is laughing and giving stupid looks to Rich which makes me wonder if he did mention “can you be my mom too in New York?” my mom sat at the table with us “of course I can, I don’t mind having a second son now. Maurice is also my son too” my is too sweet “that is so cute to see, honestly. You are very kind to me, you ask where I been too like you care” Rich really like my mom “well I like good people in my life, and you are a good guy, just like Maurice. Even though he can be silly at times. So tomorrow, this time tomorrow I will be rushing around my daughter. What are you thinking of doing Maurice, staying here?” I needed to mention that to Maurice “yes if you don’t mind. I will stay here and arrive at Sacramento tomorrow morning” I am going to miss my baby “of course you can stay here, I will keep my daughter company for the night. I think she will be sleeping well tonight; you have been stressing all night last night so tonight you will get some rest” nodding my head slowly.

Let me catch Maurice before he rushes off “can I speak to you before you leave” I said to him as I walked off towards the living area “I will be back, I am just getting some things you know” turning to him “I know you will be but I will be busy with packing my things, I will miss you” smiling at him “I will miss you too, it’s going to be weird though seeing you tomorrow. You going to be in a wedding dress, I will be sweating in a suit waiting for you. I am nervous, it’s not even about the people around it is just the simple fact I want the day to go perfect for you, the best day ever. You going to be my wife for real now, I can’t fuck up now. My divorce will be wild” hitting his arm lightly “be quiet, I just wanted to say. How you feel about Leon, Jacob and Asia going on your jet. I don’t just want to take them on there and you see it” Maurice pulled a fact at me “it’s your day, you take them on there and have fun. Shame you can’t drink and have fun, but you do what you like, they jet is yours. What is mines is yours and tomorrow that will all be legal” I cooed out “pootie, thank you” hugging him “I try, I ain’t going to make a big deal out of it. It’s about you Robyn” he is so good to me “and I appreciate that Maurice, thank you” kissing his cheek.

Walking behind Jay down the stairs “you sure you ain’t got a dead body in this” Jay complained, a shriek came from the living room “girl!!” seeing Asia “hey! Y’all ain’t late! My god” Asia ran at me “Meet me at the altar in your white dress, we ain't getting no younger, we might as well do it” Asia started singing as she hugged me as I laughed “aye, aye, aye! Let me get in this” Jacob wrapped his arms around us “it’s about damn time, I can’t wait to throw it down! I want the damn songs” it is so good to have these with me, like I know shit went sideways but they all do make me so happy “I want to be throwing my ass around” looking at Leon, he is just smiling at me “who would have fucking thought bitch, you getting married. A whole mother of two and married, chile. I am so happy for you, you deserve it but you are still my girl” opening my arms as I walked towards Leon “I love you so much Leon” Leon held me close “it’s emotional, I feel like a proud father too. I just now there will be tears; I mean I will be dancing and showing out, but I am going to be so emotional. It’s been a long ass fucking road” Leon is the only one to make it through the journey with me, he has rode with me since unlike Tiffany.

I had to laugh, I mean I am not having a hen night but these are really showing out “thank god for the second SUV” Maurice has just pulled up too “out of every damn song you playing this out loud? This is why y’all can’t be taken anywhere, embarrassing as fuck!” I shouted at them, they would be having Ludacris what’s your fantasy playing out loud “I came in time huh” Maurice said, nodding my head “you are right on time, you picked up Lenny then” Maurice looked at the SUV “this is going to be you two tomorrow night!” Asia shouted waving; Maurice actually smiled but he doesn’t want to laugh too much “they are celebrating on my behalf I guess” Maurice nodded his head looking at me “I can see that, I guess you going to have some fun huh. But you go for it, I will see you tomorrow. I am nervous and yes I will shave” he knows “good, I love you and call if you need anything. You got Rich and Matt keeping you company now” Maurice wrapped his arms around me “I know but I prefer your company but have fun, they look fun” wrapping my arms around his neck “that probably hurt you saying that now” I know him “I am serious, have fun. Not too much though, they right. Tomorrow night that will be us, or we could be knocked out asleep. Probably the sleep part with us” he laughed “we have a lifetime with each other, take care” Maurice pressed a kiss to my lips “call me just so I know you got there safely, after that I won’t talk to you. Just your mom or Reign, clearly you got some little party going on” smiling at him “I will, don’t pull that face on me now. I will be seeing you” walking off “I love you Robyn” looking behind me “don’t give me that face pootie” he can’t be pulling that face with me.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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halfandhalfshoto · 4 years

Text

“You were busy.” | kageyama tobio

- hi! i got this prompt from this blog

- pairing: tobio kageyama x reader

- warnings: angst!, cursing

- word count: 1,763

Kageyama was once again tired from all the training he underwent. It was past 12AM when he arrived at your house, and by then you had already fallen asleep waiting for him to arrive.

They began training harder this past month as their match with the MSBY Black Jackals was nearing. They'd been training non-stop.

He sighed of disappointment—laced with guilt—as he stared at your sleeping figure. You're asleep and yet you still look like the angel that you always are. Kageyama thought to himself. He hated this, you know. He hated how he always arrives late to your dates, how he always seems to miss your calls, how he always comes home to find you asleep, alone on the bed. You don't know how badly he misses the times when you and him goofed around, when you would cook dinner for him and you'd both cuddle and watch a movie afterwards, how he'd open up to you like he's never done to anyone else before.

If he could just go back to high school with you, even if it was just for a week, a day, or even an hour. He'd do anything to make that happen. You always supported him with his dreams. You'd show up at his practice matches, cheering you on beside Coach Ukai. The Karasuno VBC loved you because you took good care of him. You'd bring them food whenever possible and were close to them, close enough for them to always ask Kageyama where you were whenever you weren't around.

“Those were the days,” He mumbled as he stepped out of the shower, ready to sleep beside you.

He sunk onto the space beside you, pulling the blanket up until his chest. He turned to his side, your calm face in front of him. A strand of your hair fell upon you, and he gently pushed it back, cupping your face in the process.

As if you could sense his touch, you move and wrap your hands around him. He wasn't startled. After all, he was already planning to cuddle you anyway.

You awoke to Kageyama beside you. Startled, you rubbed your eyes to see if it was really him. Oh, it is him. You thought to yourself excitedly.

Now, it wasn't that you were overreacting to the situation, but you rarely awaken to find Kageyama besides you. These days, he usually leaves early in the morning for training and comes home late at night, so when you saw him sleeping soundly beside you, you couldn't help but let out a grin. Maybe he called in sick. You thought to yourself once again. Yes, maybe that's what's happening. Actually, you don't really care how he got the day off, but seeing him sleeping beside you again just made your heart flutter with excitement.

Carefully, you removed his arm around your waist, got out of the bed, fixed up in the bathroom and went straight to the kitchen. You made him breakfast and thought that for lunch, you'd cook his favorite—pork curry with an egg on top. Humming happily as you set up the table, you suddenly heard Kageyama curse as he seemed to be scrambling inside the bedroom. Curious as to what the fuss was about, you stop what you were doing and went to him.

“Tobio, is everything okay?” You asked as you entered the room. You felt your heart ache a bit as you saw him preparing his bag, grabbing his towel as he was about to take a shower.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Tobio asked, frustrated. You didn't know how to answer that. You thought he took the day off, maybe called in sick in order to spend the day with you.

Turns out you just assumed he did.

For the first time, he was late for training. You guessed that maybe he was just exhausted the night before, which is why he didn't wake up at the time he usually did.

You felt guilty, your head was lowered as you fiddled with your fingers. Because you missed him so much, you didn't stop to think that maybe he was just tired, that's why he woke up late. You were so elated with the idea of spending the whole day with him, forgetting that everything was just an assumption you had made.

A few tears dripped down your face as you made your way back to the kitchen, deciding on eating by yourself already. He's already late, he wouldn't bother to eat breakfast with me right now. Maybe a quick bite, and that's it. You frowned at the thought.

You were right though. After a few minutes, Kageyama came out of your room, dressed in his jersey, bag on his shoulder as he went to the kitchen and had a bite or two, before giving you a quick kiss and heading off to training.

You sighed as you finished your breakfast. You have nothing to do all day. After all, you called in sick to work thinking that your boyfriend would be spending the day with you.

“Stupid,” You whispered to yourself as you washed the dishes.

12PM in the afternoon and you were already tired, huh. You get your things ready and decide to take a shower to at least relieve a bit of your stress.

As you step in the bathroom, you immediately notice a note stuck onto the mirror, and grab it at lightning speed.

I'm sorry for being so busy lately, love. I promise I'll make it up to you. Hold on for a little while longer. I love you.

- Tobio

You smile slightly because you knew Tobio sincerely wrote this with every ounce of longing he had for you.

“I'll be waiting,” You mumbled.

You waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.

Where was he? This was the only day of the week where you get off work extra early, and it was also the only day where he could actually come home early from training.

So where was this boyfriend of yours?

“Late again, Tobio,” You whispered as you reached for a glass of wine. Checking the time on your phone, it was 7:30PM, and he was already 30 minutes late. You settled on waiting for him a bit longer.

For a little while longer, love.

You struggled to find the keys of the house in your purse. 4 hours. He made you wait 4 hours and didn't have the decency to show up. What the hell was that?

You felt utterly embarrassed. As you left the restaurant—being the only customer left—you could barely hold yourself together as the waiters looked at you with pitiful eyes. You even nearly snapped at the cab driver for asking if you got stood up, judging from the look on your face. It was truly the worst, most embarrassing night of your life.

Finally finding the key, you tried to unlock the door.

Except you didn't have to try. The door was unlocked.

“Is he actually here?” You muttered in disbelief.

You entered the house and believe it or not, there on the couch, sat your boyfriend with the remote on his hands, watching a tv show.

Soon, he noticed you and the scowl on your face. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Hey, it's 11PM. Where have you been? I came home an hour ago,” he said nonchalantly.

“An hour?” You questioned. No calls? No texts? Did he really forget that he had a date?

“Yeah, I was called in to film an endorsement after train-” He stopped mid-sentence as he took in the information and brought the pieces together. He eyed you from head to toe as he realized what he had done.

“Y/N, I'm s-so s-sorry,” He stuttered, eyes filled with guilt and regret.

You smiled as the tears brimming in your eyes finally fell down like waterfalls. “Yeah, well sorry's not gonna cover for it right now, Tobio,” You answered in a low voice, walking past him, avoiding eye contact as you went into the bedroom.

You've had just about enough of it.

As you grabbed a bag out of the closet, Tobio immediately followed you into the room.

“Love, what are you doing?” He asked, eyes widened in absolute horror as he saw you packing away your clothes.

“I've had enough, Kageyama,” He froze as he heard you utter those words. It was his first time hearing you solely call him by his last name.

As quickly as he can, he snatched the bag away from you, making you glare at him in the process, but he wasn't backing down.

“We can talk about this. This was just one time. I swear, love, I will neve-” Once again, he stopped mid-sentence as he saw the love of his life break down in front of his very eyes.

And it was because of him.

“Just shut the fuck up, Tobio!” You cried angrily. He tried to come closer but you just backed away.

“You'll never what? Never do it again?” You scoffed. “That's not the fucking point, Tobio. The point is I'm so fed up with the way things are with us now!”

“I wait for you when you're late. I understand when you have to leave for training. I hold myself together when I see women trying to get a hold of you. I always prepare dinner for you, in case you're hungry when you get home,” You pause for a brief moment, holding your head up high for your eyes to meet his.

“But at the same I'm worried that you might be overworking yourself. I'm crushed that we don't get to spend much time together. I'm furious as jealousy eats me away. I'm heartbroken when I go to sleep, and wake up without seeing you beside me,” You finished as you finally lowered your head. You couldn't bear to see the look on his face. That look of regret, guilt, sadness, and anger he had. Hid fists were clenched as tears were now rolling down his cheeks as well.

“Why didn't you tell me?” He whispered, barely audible but you still manage to hear it.

“Because you were busy, you were always busy,” You answered. You're startled as Kageyama suddenly hugged you tight, the sincerity of his feelings overwhelming yours. He kept saying sorry over and over again, kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and kept promising that he will make it up to you, no matter what.

Eventually, he did.

-----------

- hello! I hope y'all loved reading this<3 it's my first time writing for haikyuu!!

#haikyuu #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama #kageyama x reader #haikyu imagines #kageyama imagines #kageyama angst #karasuno #haikyuu!!

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

Text

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 | AO3 link

After a gruelling afternoon of dealing with an akuma that turned its victims into puffs of sentient pink smoke – not devastating, but certainly annoying – Marinette’s about ready to thank whoever’s out there that it’s the weekend and pass out until her mother comes to wake her for dinner. But just minutes after she faceplants on her bed with a groan, when she’s drifting off into the sandman’s realm, there’s a knock on her hatch door.

“Huh?” She looks up, blinking blearily, but there’s nothing there. Huh. Maybe a bird had divebombed into it or something. But before she can bury her face in her pillow again, there’s another knock. Definitely not a bird. What the hell could be knocking on her hatch door, then? The answer turns out to be a stray cat with drooping ears, who’s perched himself on one of her chairs when she sticks her head out to investigate.

“Hey, Marinette.” Chat Noir grins but it’s hollow. “Remember how you said I could drop by anytime? You mind if I take you up on that offer?”

“Yes! I mean – no, I don’t mind! Come on down!” Marinette ducks back into her room to let Chat Noir slip inside and close the hatch after himself. He shuffles to the end of her bed and then just sits there, cross-legged, trying to smile but only managing to look anything but happy.

“Shoes off inside.” Marinette blearily blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind.

“I would, princess, but the boots don’t exactly come off,” Chat Noir shrugs. Then he winces. “Sorry. You look like death warmed over. You were trying to sleep, right?”

“I’ll be fine.” Marinette immediately betrays herself by letting out an enormous yawn.

“I can go –”

“Don’t even think about it.” Marinette waggles a finger at him. “That offer is redeemable at all times. No exceptions. Even if I’m not here, you’re more than welcome to come in and curl up like a kitten, so long as you don’t go through my stuff. And just don’t tell my mum about the shoes thing.”

Chat Noir just stares at her with glistening eyes. Shit. Did she say something wrong? Before she can ask what she’d done, her vision is cut off by the dark leather of Chat Noir’s suit as he hauls her in for a tight hug.

“Thanks, Marinette,” he says into her hair. “Just…thanks. That means a lot.”

“Breathing also means a lot,” Marinette says into his shoulder, her voice muffled, so he lets her go and shuffles back. “Anything in particular you want to do?”

“Not really?” Chat Noir says. “I’m happy to follow the lead of my princess.”

“You know, I don’t know why I never told you to stop calling me that,” Marinette says. “And it’s too late now, isn’t it?”

This time, Chat Noir’s smirk is genuine. “Damn right, princess.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, sitting on the bed together, until Marinette figures that she’s never going to get to sleep now and it would be a little creepy to try and sleep with a guy in magic black leather and spandex in her room.

“I might as well keep working on one of my designs,” she says. “Unless there’s something you want to do…?”

“Nah, I’m happy to chill here,” Chat Noir says. “Actually…I never really get to chill. There’s always something to do in my room. And my life.”

“Eww.” Marinette wrinkles her nose. “That must suck. There’s nothing better than just…doing nothing sometimes. Okay, if you’re sure.” She slides down the ladder to the floor, then pads over to her desk to grab her sketchbook and pencil so that she can sketch in her bed. It’s just a hunch, but she strongly suspects that Chat Noir doesn’t want to be alone right now, even if they’re still in the same room.

Once she starts sketching, she loses herself in her own world of colours and patterns and fabrics, drawing something and then erasing it and then testing out something else and nodding in satisfaction when that something else meshes and flows. When she blinks and looks up to give herself a little break, the first thing she sees is Chat Noir just…staring at her.

“Is something wrong?” she says. “Are you hungry? I can go get you some food. Or if you want to do something –”

“No, no,” Chat Noir says. “I’m fine. It’s just…relaxing to watch you. You’re mesmerising when you’re designing.” He mutters something else that could be, “Unlike Father,” but it’s so quiet and his lips don’t even move, so Marinette just brushes it off as her imagination.

“O-Oh.” Her cheeks grow warm. “Thanks? I don’t usually get in the zone like that when others are around. I’m so…hyperaware of them.”

“Well, I’m honoured, princess,” Chat Noir says with his toothy grin. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve just relaxed like this.”

“Good,” Marinette says. “Between superheroing and whatever it must be like when it’s tense at home, you deserve the break.”

“Oh, superheroing isn’t stressful at all,” Chat Noir scoffs. Marinette raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe not for you. You’re not the brains, after all.”

“I know you’re trying to offend me but you’re right.” Chat Noir shoots her finger guns. “Ladybug is the brains. I’m just the cunning, ultra-charming Chat Noir.”

Marinette can’t help but snort, though she manages to disguise it as a rather loud cough that has Chat Noir narrowing his eyes at her.

“Got something to say, Marinette?” he says.

“No, no.” This time, Marinette can’t hold back her laughter. “So long as you’re happy with the clown suit, who am I to judge?”

“Excuse me? The clown suit?” Chat Noir jabs a finger at her. “I sure wasn’t a clown when I was saving you from Evillustrator.”

“Mhm.”

“Will you just take me seriously already?”

“Why? You already admitted that Ladybug’s the brains.”

Chat Noir glares at her, though not with any heat, and then his bottom lip sticks out and he honest to god pouts. That’s when Marinette loses it and doubles over with laughter at the sight of her sulking kitty, pouting like a little kid.

“It’s not funny,” he says sullenly.

“Are you sure about that?” Marinette wipes the tears from her eyes, careful not to get her sketchbook pages damp.

“Hmph. Fine. I see how it is. I bet you’re just a Ladybug fangirl and she’s drafted you to make fun of me!”

Oh, if only he knew the truth. “Actually, I’m much more of a Chat Noir girl,” Marinette says, and Chat Noir’s cat eyes widen.

“What? No, no, I was kidding. You should totally be a Ladybug girl.”

“Too late,” Marinette sings. “I’ve been a Chat Noir girl from the start.”

“But why?” Chat Noir tilts his head. “Ladybug’s so cool. She’s gorgeous. She purrifies –”

“Chat, I swear to god –”

“– the akumas and fixes everything with her cure. All of Paris loves her. Why don’t you?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t love her,” Marinette says. “But she wouldn’t be half the hero she is without her Chat Noir there to have her back. And I’d think exactly the same thing if the roles were reversed. I guess you could say I’m a Lady Noir girl – and no, not the ship, so don’t get any ideas.”

There’s something akin to awe in Chat Noir’s eyes. Has…no one ever told him that he’s just as important? Sure, he may not take things seriously and leave the weight on Ladybug’s shoulders, but Marinette’s a hundred percent not lying when she says that she wouldn’t be able to do it without him.

“And why exactly do you think Ladybug wouldn’t be able to do it without me? Bugaboo is so ingenious that she can manage even when I’m brainwashed.”

“Sure, she can hold her own when it comes to the fighting,” Marinette says. “But what about everything else? What about the moments when there aren’t akumas and you two are on patrol? Remember that picture that Alya got of you two the other day? Where you two were goofing around on the rooftops? You really think Ladybug could handle all this alone without someone by her side to shoulder the emotional weight? I mean, sure, you could focus a bit more on the akumas instead of clowning around –”

Chat Noir sticks his tongue out at her.

“– but you’re there for her in a way that no one else is. You’re her partner, Chat, and she needs you. Maybe she even appreciates your goofiness when she’s not in the middle of trying to take down an akuma. I know that facing destructive akumas like Green Giant or brainwashing akumas like Princess Fragrance couldn’t have been easy, especially with the weight of fixing everything on her shoulders. But don’t you dare think that you’re not valuable, kitty cat. Ladybug loves you, even if it’s not romantic. I’ve seen the way she looks at you in pics and videos.”

Chat Noir doesn’t say anything after Marinette’s speech, leaving Marinette to squirm under his bright green eyes as he stares at her with a slightly agape mouth. Then he’s leaning over and grabbing her in a hug, squeezing her just like Adrien had done the other day, murmuring, “Thanks, Marinette,” into her hair while she pats his back awkwardly.

“Alright, alright, you’re getting fur all over me,” Marinette says, slightly breathless with how tightly Chat Noir’s hugging her. With one last squeeze, Chat Noir pulls away and pouts at her again.

“Excuse you, princess, but I happen to be very well-groomed,” he says, and Marinette snorts. “I totally am. You’d eat your words if you knew who I was under the mask.”

“Aww, but what a pity, you can’t tell me!” Marinette says with a sweet smile. “So, I guess I won’t have to eat my words, as delicious as they are.”

“Sugary sweet just like the little baker’s princess, huh?” Chat Noir says. Marinette reaches out and flicks his bell, her smile widening when he yelps and scowls ay her.

“Damn right, kitty. I’m sugar and spice and everything nice.”

Chat Noir doesn’t say anything in response to that, instead choosing to stare right at Marinette with his intense green cat stare. When he’s quiet for too long, Marinette opens her mouth to ask what’s up, but he gets in first.

“Thanks, Marinette,” he says. “Really. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I think I do,” Marinette says, but Chat Noir shakes his head.

“You really don’t. At home…I can’t tell you, you know, for identity reasons, but just knowing that I’ve got an escape…I mean, Chat Noir’s always been an escape, but running around alone in black leather only helps so much.”

“I can imagine,” Marinette says softly. Sure, putting on red spandex and swinging around Paris is a fantastic way to just get away when she needs it, but it still doesn’t fully help with her mad, swirling thoughts. Not like Chat Noir does. “Well, if you really want to keep yourself occupied, how about helping me with my Physics homework?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the smartest kids in that class?” Chat Noir says with a suspicious little squint.

“Well, yes…but I could use a little help brushing up on a few things,” Marinette says. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

Chat Noir raising an eyebrow informs Marinette that she’s very much not fooling him as to the true purpose of asking him to help: to keep his mind occupied. But considering that it’s just as much for his benefit as it is for hers, he apparently chooses not to call out her horribly flimsy excuse.

“Sure thing, princess,” he says. “Grab your stuff and this dashing cat will help as best as he can.”

“That’s it, my grades are gonna drop,” Marinette says as she slides down the ladder to fetch her homework, stumbling on the last rung.

“Wow,” Chat Noir says. “Okay. Tell me how you really feel. Weren’t you the one asking me for help?”

“Only because I took pity on a poor stray,” Marinette says. As soon as she’s back up on her bed, Chat Noir shoves her backwards and plants a black-gloved hand on her chest.

“Say you’re sorry for hurting my poor feelings,” Chat Noir says with his roguish smile.

“Um…no.”

In response, Chat Noir’s hand applies more pressure, but not anywhere near enough to even begin to cause pain. It’s firm, albeit loose enough that Marinette could probably wiggle out if she really wanted to, but the playful light in Chat Noir’s eyes leaves her pinned to the bed far more effectively than his hand.

“And here I thought you were a pure princess,” Chat Noir says with a tone of exaggerated lament.

“Lucky me,” Marinette deadpans. When Chat Noir’s hand shifts ever so slightly, her brain makes itself very aware of the fact that the only thing separating his hand from her skin is a thin shirt and a black leather glove that seems to be radiating heat against the white material of her shirt. And yes, she doesn’t like Chat Noir as anything more than a friend…but try having a cute guy in black leather pin any teenage girl to her bed and expect her not to grow warm and fuzzy. She’s just going to choose to not acknowledge the fact that her crush on Adrien has been violently shoved to the backburner in this very moment, since she’s not too sure she wants to explore the implications of that.

“Oh.” With pink cheeks, Chat Noir releases Marinette, allowing her to push herself up and hastily fix her messy pigtails. “Uh – Physics! Right! Help you!”

“Very eloquent,” Marinette says, willing her racing heart to slow down already. Chat Noir gives her another roguish, lopsided grin.

“That’s me, princess. Eloquent as hell.”

“Sure,” Marinette drawls, then opens her notebook and flips to the worksheet of questions. “Now, how about you put that big brain of yours to good use?”

Chat Noir bows his head mockingly. “As you wish.”

“Oh my god, you did not just do what I think you did.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #aotq fic #aotq: hold me #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #marichat #oops #yeah marinette you just don't think about that #dorks

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

The Rules of the Lab

The Rules of the Lab: A Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 2407

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Age difference (not used as a kink), Smut (Oral sex, rimming, light d/s, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: After returning from a long mission Tony shuts himself up in the lab. You decided to test the rules of the lab to get him to realize what he has.

The Rules of the Lab

Living in the Avengers tower when the Avengers were out on a mission was a little weird. All the agents that worked for them suddenly seemed to relax and goof off. Like the bosses were out of town so no need to be on guard. All that is except for Maria Hill who seemed to just become what stress would actually look like if it took human form.

Happy would come and check in on you a little too regularly. To the point that you weren’t sure if Tony was just constantly worried about you when he wasn’t around or if Happy was just bored and wanted company. This time around he’d actually asked you to help tell off that Spider-Man kid with him for doing some dangerous thing or other. Which was weird because of the fact he could probably drop kick you into the sun if he wanted to, but also the fact you think he’s the same age as your brother. Something you pointed out to Tony one time and he’d squirmed like crazy and immediately changed the subject.

You also seemed to be the towers resident pet sitter, taking care of Clint’s dog, Nat’s cat, and Bucky’s service dog and cat. Also, Nat had a spider collection you had to go check on regularly and Sam had a parrot that someone else had taught to swear. You were pretty sure the someone else was Bucky.

This time they had been away for a little over two weeks. They’d gotten back two days ago and you were yet to see Tony for more than a brief kiss in the hall. You’d asked if he wanted you to come up both nights via text but he’d brushed you off. You knew it wasn’t about you, but you also couldn’t pretend that you weren’t worried about him.

You didn’t see Bruce for a few days either, but in the time he’d been away you had made a massive break in your research. It sat on your shoulder now, large and surly and sniffing around the room like it was looking for something to fight.

Bruce came into the lab looking a little smaller than normal and quite pale.

“Hey, Bruce!” You said, not quite being able to contain the excitement you felt in seeing him returning to the world. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hi,” Bruce said quietly, his eyes darting around the room. “Why is that rat green?”

“Oh, he’s not a rat.” You answered, holding your hand up to the rodent on your shoulder. It sniffed your fingers and tentatively stepped onto the palm of your hand. You placed him on the bench and gave him a treat. He started eating it and you touched him on the top of the head. “Boop.” You chirped.

The rodent dropped the treat and started to convulse. His body twisted and he let out a shriek before it settled into the form of a small white mouse.

“You made a hulk mouse?” Bruce said coming over to look at it. You picked it up and stroked it with your finger.

“Yep. I pretty much raised him. He’s been with me all the time since before you left and now in the hulk mode he just gets protective of me.” You explained. “But he has a trigger. It’s not like the lullaby. I built it into him.”

Bruce looked up at you. “It’s not anger or fear triggered.”

“Nope. He’s had quite a few trials done. The videos are all there. He’ll only hulk out when I do the trigger.” You answered, your index finger stroking down the back of the mouse.

Bruce shook his head. “We’re really getting close aren’t we?”

You nodded and rubbed his arm. “We’re going to get it for sure.” You took the mouse back to his enclosure and it crawled into its hammock and fell asleep. “How’s Tony doing? He’s barely said anything to me since he got back. At this point, I’m getting a little worried about him.”

“We all get a little funny about socializing after a mission like that one. It was … rough.” Bruce said taking a seat at one of the computers and bringing up the files you’d been working on.

“You guys need to start leaning on the people who love you. That’s what we’re here for.” You scolded. “Besides if he keeps it up much longer I’ll start thinking he has a secret family.”

Bruce laughed. “I’m not sure he hasn’t got some kid he still hasn’t heard about.”

“Jerk.” You laughed and tossed a pen at him, hitting him in the arm. “You know he’s like 20 years older than me? What if he does have a secret kid and they’re my age?”

Bruce looked up at you and grimaced. “Never say those words to me again. That’s too weird.”

Your laughter took hold of you and you held your sides. “Why are you worried? It’s me that would have to have some stepkid who’s slightly older than me.”

“Please stop.” Bruce pleaded. “Go bother Tony.”

You stopped and looked at him, your head tilted. “You think he won’t mind?”

“Of course not. I know he doesn’t say it, but he loves you. He’s just a mess.” Bruce said. “And that’s coming from the biggest mess.”

You got up and smiled. “Thanks, Brucie bear. I’ll catch you later.”

You were about to head straight to his lab when you had a better idea. Instead, you headed down to your apartment. You freshened up and fixed your hair and makeup before coming out and changing into matching black lace panties and bra. You paired them with a garter and black stockings and a pair of black heels that you had only worn once when Tony insisted on taking you to the Met Gala. You found a lab coat in your wardrobe and pulled it on, buttoning it all the way up.

When you were happy with your look, you caught the elevator back to the labs and headed straight to Tony’s engineering lab. He was standing working on one of his Iron Suits that looked like it had definitely seen better days. You cleared your throat and when he turned to look at you, you smiled.

“Doctor.” You said in greeting.

“Doctor.” He replied. “What brings you to my lab? Did you have an experiment you needed to run?”

“Mmm… I had something I wanted to try.” You purred.

Tony got up and approached you slowly, tapping the screwdriver in his hand against his palm. “What are you wearing?”

“Lab coat.” You answered. “I work in a lab.”

“I see that. You’re not in your lab now though. This is my lab, and we’re much more informal in here.” He said.

“My mistake. I guess I’ll take it off.” You replied and began unbuttoning your lab coat, revealing your lingerie. He made a sound that was half whine, half growl and pulled you into his arms. The screwdriver fell to the ground with a clatter and was quickly forgotten. You kissed hungrily. The pent-up desire and need you had from two weeks apart all coming out in that moment. His hands pushed in under the lab coat and explored your skin while you tugged at his hair. His mouth moved to your neck, biting at the sensitive spot just under your ear.

“I missed you, Tony.” You whispered, tilting your head back to give him better access to you. He hummed in reply and pulled your hips forward, so you could feel the way his cock was just beginning to strain against his jeans. You gripped his hair and pulled his head back to look at you. “Why didn’t you come see me?”

“I don’t like you to see me like that. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” He said, his eyes darting around, looking everywhere but at you.

You frowned and rested your forehead against his. “If I can’t take you at your worst, I don’t deserve to have you.”

He took a deep breath in and released it shakily. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Hey, look at me, old man.” You said, pulling back a little. He slowly raised his eyes until he was looking into yours. “I’m a big girl and I can make my own choices. Besides you’re probably right. God knows how bad you’ve got to have been to be lumped with me. But you’re stuck with your bad decisions now. I’m not going anywhere.”

He smirked. “I do try so hard to get rid of you. You’re an eternal thorn in my side.”

You nuzzled into his neck. “That’s better.” You whispered. “I love you, Tony.”

He made a grunt sound into your hair. It was a sound that you had come to read as his way of saying I love you too when he was particularly struggling with the words.

Tony started kissing you again and guiding you backward. You let him lead, giving him the control you normally make him fight for. When your back hit the glass display case that contained the old Iron Suits he turned you to face it. He ran his hands up your arms and guided them so your hands were above your head, palms pressed to the glass. He kept his hands on yours as he kissed your throat and rolled his hips against your ass. You could feel the press of his erection against your ass. It made your cunt tingle in anticipation. His beard scratched your skin as he trailed his mouth down. His tongue flicked out to taste you leaving a wet trail down to your shoulder.

His hands slid down your arms and cupped your breasts. He squeezed your supple flesh and pinched your nipples. You moaned, your head falling back with your eyes closed. Tony started kissing lower. He bit at the fabric of your lab coat and dragged his cheek down your back. When he dropped to his knees he lifted the coat up and yanked your panties down to your knees.

Your hands slipped on the glass and you opened your eyes. The Mark XLVI suit looked on as Tony pried your ass cheeks apart and his tongue slithered over your asshole. Your knees buckled and you moaned. Tony’s fingers gripped your ass as he lapped over your tight hole. Your cunt ached for relief while at the same time you didn’t want him to stop. His tongue worked over your ass. It was a sweet torture and you dripped for him.

Your hands fell from the glass and you gripped his wrists. Your head falling back in ecstasy. “Oh, fuck. Tony.” You groaned.

He spun you to face him and his mouth went straight to your pussy. He sucked at your folds and his tongue rolled over them, tasting as much of you as he could. You carded your fingers through his hair and leaned over him as he began to place sloppy open mouth kisses on your clit. His fingers thrust inside of you as he nipped at your clit.

It was too much. You could barely hold yourself up as you came undone. A wildfire raged inside you and you cried out. Tony reached up squeezing your breast and giving you a way to brace yourself against him. He held you in place as he brought your rapidly to orgasm, fucking you hard with his fingers and biting at your clit.

“Tony. Tony. I can’t… I’m gonna.” You pleaded. He moaned against your pussy and curled his fingers inside of you pressing hard against your g-spot. Your core clenched and you came, falling back against the glass.

Tony got to his feet and unfastened his fly, releasing his erection. You hooked your leg around his hips and drew him closer to you. He grabbed your thighs and lifted you, thrusting his cock deep into your cunt.

“Fuck.” You gasped.

“I missed how you feel.” He whispered. He brought his lips to yours and you kissed. You licked your juices from his lips.

Tony started fucking you hard against the glass. The suits began to rattle on their stands and the Mark XLVI fell forward. It’s head making a dull thunk as it banged on the glass beside your head.

Both you and Tony started laughing.

“Same, buddy,” Tony said, putting his palm against the spot where the mask rested. He kept rutting into you. You were helpless to do anything but hold on, your fingers digging into his back. You came again, your cunt clenching around him, squeezing his cock. He groaned and buried his face in your neck. His hips snapped up and he came, spilling inside of you.

He slipped out of you and lowered you to the ground slowly as you both caught your breath.

“Okay.” You huffed, leaning your head against his shoulder and pulling your panties back up. “Good reconnect.”

He chuckled and patted your head. “Not too bad. I feel I could have lasted a little longer.”

“Eh, don’t beat yourself up. You’re an old man, remember? It’s hard to keep up.” You teased.

He shook his head and you could tell he was trying very hard not to laugh. Instead, he grabbed your wrist and twisted your arm behind your back, before pulling you into a hard kiss.

You broke it with a hum and helped him buckle his pants back up. “You know what’s going to happen now?”

He nuzzled against your neck and skimmed his fingertips over your cheek. “No what?”

“We’re going to the penthouse and getting cleaned up. Maybe we can take a bath.” You said, ghosting your lips against his cheek.

“No…” Tony groaned, dragging the word out or several beats.

“Oh, yes.” You said with a nod. “And then you’re taking me out to dinner. Somewhere fancy. You’re gonna wear a suit.”

“What? But I have to…” He whined pointing at the damaged suit he was working on.

You shrugged and pushed him towards the door. “Should have thought of that when you ignored me for two days.”

“Yes, dear.” He huffed, then straightened up and took your hand. “Right, dinner. Good idea. We should definitely eat.”

“Then after we can do this again, only I’ll be in charge.” You added, quirking your eyebrow at him.

He laughed and bumped you with his shoulder. “Well, that one doesn’t sound so bad.”

// NEXT

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #iron man fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #genius billionaire playboy philanthropist #the rules of the lab

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roger1na · 5 years

Text

careful ch3 - john deacon x reader

summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert and befriend the sweetest man on the planet.

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: swearing, cigarettes/smoking

author's note: thank you for being patient! i'm back in my groove after a few desperately stressful weeks and i'm super excited about this chapter and the next few ones!

[ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] [ch8]

chapter three

Falling in love was so terribly easy, you thought. You wanted to drift into love, be slowly caressed into feeling romantic things. With John, you’d been pushed out of an airplane and the ground was approaching fast but you weren’t scared. You almost wanted to be taken into the embrace of the earth. It’s where humans are meant to be on, isn’t it? Feet planted.

Loud thoughts and bursting emotions stampeded in your brain after dancing. Your face was glistening with sweat and your updo had come loose, stray hairs framing your elegant face. When you danced, all your worries left you. There was just the music and the choreographed steps and the ache in your muscles. Once Tchaikovsky’s last composed note stopped though, real life came tumbling and left you more breathless than dancing ever did.

Particularly the colour of post-it note neon green kept coming up. It was a whole new level of fear that had stricken you when you had noticed it stuck to your desk telephone.

call me sometime!

xxx-xxx-xxx

The note was scrawled in messy handwriting and whoever had written it had had shaky hands for the way the letters peaked oddly. But they had forgotten to sign their name and for a moment you were extremely confused.

”Nat!” You called out to the office secretary, a small but dynamite woman with cat-eye lens and no time for anybody’s bullshit. She looked up and clicked her tongue.

”Yes love?”

”Who’s this from?”

”Oh some bloke.” She went back to her typing, acrylic nails click-clacking on the keys.

”Wow, yeah, can you be more specific?” You rolled your eyes. ”What’d he look like?”

She squinted her huge eyes and looked up to the right corner of her eyes trying to remember. ”Long brown hair. Sort of a big nose, but not in a bad way. Looked like he hadn’t smiled since birth.” Your heartbeat sped up and you held the note close to your chest. ”Why? ’Ave you got a bloke?”

”No! Shut up. Maybe.”

She grinned and set aside her work and leaned on her hands to get a better look at you. She pumped her eyebrows up a few times. ”Tell me more.”

”Sorry, I’ve actually got work to get to thank you,” you turned on your heel, trying not to squeal or scream or show any sort reaction to the little square piece of paper that had saved your morning.

”Ha ha. Run from this discussion for now, Y/N.”

And so you did. You locked yourself in the bathroom before carefully taking out your diary and sticking the note there, then casually as ever you continued your day, not thinking about it. Or pretending not to think about it. It never really left your mind. You imagined what’d it be like to roll those numbers into a phone. To hear his voice slightly muffled, slightly static, on the other end. And then you told yourself not to think about it because there was work and dancing and living to be done.

That’s how you ended up in the dressing room, clutching your diary and thinking of all the sappy things you’d like to say to him and framing the note with little hearts and stars and general squiggles, not really thinking much of it.

“Are you really going to keep writing sloppy romantic shit about him in your diary and never talk to him again?” Rose startled you, peeking over your shoulder.

You slammed the notebook shut, embarrassed that she’d gotten a glance at your innermost thoughts. “Shut up,” you bopped her over the head with the book gently. “It’s not easy. What do I say?”

“Hi, I’m madly in love with you but I’m too proud to admit it?”

”Shut up!” You laughed. ”’M really not.”

”That mushy shit-” she gestured to your diary vaguely throwing her hands around it, ”-that’s madly in love.”

“No, it’s not, it’s barely a crush.” You quipped back and held your diary tightly to your chest.

“A-ha! You admit there’s feelings!” She jumped around victoriously. A scarlet flush was spreading on your cheeks. Rose paused her celebration when she saw your embarrassed face. “What’s wrong? Is this the first time you’ve had feelings since, what, 1969?” She was joking around but your eyes were panicked. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ when she realised.

“What do I do?” There was a certain urgency to your voice. Rose took pity on you, lacing your hands in hers.

“You goof, it’s going to go just fine.”

“Will it?”

“If you give me a light, I’ll promise you,” she had let go of your hands and was now fumbling in her bag for her trusty pack of Marlboro Reds, same shade as her lipstick. When you had tossed her your lighter and she was inhaling nicotine, you started making your way out of the studio.

“Listen, call him. You’re a total dork, he sounds like a total dork, it’s a match made in heaven.”

“I don’t call people, except for you.”

“That’s because you have no social life,” Rose laughed. She was such a breeze, floating along in life, dabbling in this and that. Part of you wished you were like her, the other part was glad to be a small, pocket-sized persona that could easily fit in anywhere quietly, no fuss, no show. “I get it, huge deal, he’s a fucking rock star, but I mean, how bad can it get?”

“I suppose,” you trailed off. The two of you had reached the stairs that lead to the underground, where Rose took the tube back home.

“Be brave for me, okay?” She kissed your cheek. “Ta!”

“I hate you, for being so right,” you called out after her. She glanced back at you over her shoulder and winked.

“Love you too, sweetheart!” Then the tunnel swallowed her and you were left alone with your mess of thoughts.

You took deep breaths to calm yourself as you caught one of the famous bright red double deckers of London. Right, it’s just a phone call, you told yourself as you got off on your stop.

Memories of him standing at the steps to your apartment complex’s front door made your heart beat faster. What wouldn’t you give to see that again? How he perfectly fit into the scenery, though he was impossibly tall and almost funny-looking with his long hair and crooked smile.

Your door creaked as you pushed it open and took in your apartment. The dumpy old couch your brother had given you. The dusty old curtains your mother had sewn up. The bright red rotary phone on a stand next to the couch that you had saved up for, for months. You liked the way it reminded you to keep striving and soon you’d have an interior design to match it, not just sad hand-me downs.

You took your sweet time getting ready. You brewed a cup of tea in a banged up kettle whilst whistling a tune. You set in a vinyl and danced to the music whilst waiting for your cuppa to be done.

When you had a cup of Earl Grey’s steaming in your hands you took the needle off the vinyl and silence settled into your house. You sat down on the couch, cringing at the noise it made in the desolation of a poor neighbourhood at night, in London.

Slowly, but certainly, you rotated the number into the phone and picked it up and put it to your ear, anxiety twisting your insides.

The line was ringing. You bit your lip nervously and played with the telephone cord.

First ring.

What if Natalie was just messing with you? Were they all in on a collective prank and she’d described your lunch date to get a rise?

Second ring.

What if he intended it for another Y/N? And Nat had handed the post-it note to the wrong person? There was one other one, in another department, another building but still.

Third ring. The line clicked. “Hello?” His East-England accent sounded marvelous through the phone.

“Hi,” you choked out, voice gone out of nervousness. You cleared your throat before repeating. “Sorry, hi.”

“Hey,” he laughed nervously on the other end. “Sorry, who is this?”

“Oh right! It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N! I’m so glad you called!” His voice deepened just slightly as he realised he didn’t have to be on guard.

“And I have half the mind to ask you the same thing. You didn’t sign your note!” You scolded him playfully.

“Shit, I’m sorry! How’d you know then, to call me?”

“Took a chance. And asked our receptionist.”

“Clever girl,” he joked. Your smile was wide and though your heart was palpitating, you were beginning to calm down.

“I was actually really nervous to call you.” You started.

“But I’m the least intimidating person you could talk to.”

“Yeah but, you’re you. What’s a twenty-something rockstar doing talking to me?”

“You make me sound old. I’m twenty-two, twenty-three in a few weeks.”

You almost spat out your tea. You could’ve sworn he was older. In the end he was only two years older than you. “What?”

“Oh, come on, am I some grandpa to you?” He complained sourly.

You started giggling uncontrollably and you heard him sigh on the other end. Sometimes, you can hear it when people smile. You swore you could hear the right corner of his mouth twitch up and his eyes wrinkle as he listened to you laugh.

“Alright, alright, calm down.”

You sighed and suppressed a smile that was trying to spread on your face. If the nosy neighbours were to glance through their window they’d think you were mad. “So, actually, how are you?” You started.

“The same. Cheered up when you called.” There was clanging in the background and somebody laughed and another voice complained.

“Where are you? Do you have roommates?” You felt your cheeks burning.

“God no, I’m at the studio. We’re working on our next album.”

“You gave me the number to your studio and not your house?”

“They’re the same. I bought the telephone, only natural that it’s my number.”

“Right,” you laughed and rolled your eyes.

“John, who’re you talking to?” A high-pitched, scratchy voice interrupted. “Is she pretty?”

You heard the scuffle of somebody covering the receiver with their palm before you heard John’s faint voice. “How d’you know it’s a girl?”

“You’re grinning like an idiot. Is it that dancer? What’s her name?” Somebody tried sounding out different names very similar to yours whilst another person kept disagreeing and suggesting your actual name.

“She’s the one who interviewed us, remember? Y/N Y/L/N.” The more reasonable voice finished.

“John?” You whispered into the receiver.

“Right, sorry about that.” His voice returned sheepishly.

“No worries but, it’s like, what, 9pm?”

“Nine forty-six.”

“Right, it’s late, why are you still working?”

“They’re arguing over something. I want to make sure they agree on something good in the end.”

You shook your head. “You need your rest. Have you eaten today?”

“You don’t need to worry, Y/N.” There was a triumphant ha in the background when he said your name.

“But I want to. You worried for me too.”

“I suppose,” he paused and you could hear him tapping on his bass, which you assumed was sitting in his lap. It made a hollow, plastic sound. “But I’m fine. Thank you. I hope you’re fine too.”

“I am, thanks. We’re rehearsing Swan Lake.”

“I have no idea what that is, if I’m being honest,” he chuckled. “But I want to see you dance. When do I get to see you dance?”

You smiled softly, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Soon, I hope.”

There was a yell in the background as somebody rushed to John who tried to keep the phone out of their reach. “Fred, fuck off, no you’re not-”

There was a small, whispered row, before John was back on the other end. He sounded slightly grumpy and a bit breathless, as if he’d just been in a fight. “Do you want to teach us dancing?”

“What?”

“Freddie is dying to learn about ballet and he’s hellbent on you teaching us.”

You giggled and you heard John scoff slightly on the other end. He was an adorably witty and grumpy man. He had a way of always seeming like the world was out to get him, but that he was absolutely too determined to get his shit done to let it bother him.

“Sorry yeah, it’s a stupid idea,” he mumbled.

“No, no! I’d love to,” you replied fondly. “When’s the best time? I’m free every saturday. Usually.”

“Brilliant, darling,” you heard Freddie’s yell into the receiver and the sound of John smacking the back of his head. “Next saturday alright with you?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Right then Freddie, back to singing,” John shooed him off. More cursing filled the background. ”You're really okay with this? We’re all a bunch of dunces. And we’ve got eight left feet.”

You laughed. ”You’re a dork, John Deacon. Of course I’ll come. And I’ll have fun too.”

”Brilliant.”

“What do your new songs sound like?”

“So far, pretty good. We’re about half-way through, we’ll push the album through for the winter.”

“Will I get a signed copy?”

“We’ll see,” he teased.

“You are a piece of work, John,” you rolled your eyes before listening to him chuckle on the other end. His laugh was slightly bark-y, but not in an uncomfortable way. It sounded full of joy, with a mischievous edge to it.

”I’m going to start heading off to bed,” you whispered, after a moment of silence.

”Alright, sleep well.”

”I hope you come to a good agreement.”

”We won’t, but thank you.”

”Goodnight, John.”

”Goodnight, Y/N.”

You put the phone back before screaming into your pillow. What had you gone and done? You lifted your face to stare at the clock hung on the wall, hearing it’s ticking go too slow as you heartbeat accelerated.

“Rose is going to freak out,” you muttered.

***

taglist: @fourmisfits @deakysgirl @im-happy-at-home @obsessedwithrogertaylor @itsametaphorbriansblog

#john deacon x reader #deacy x reader #deaky x reader #joe!john deacon #joe mazzello #joe!john x reader #bohemian rhapsody #john deacon #deacy #deaky #i rlly hated writing this chapter bc it's like 90% dialogue #which is fine but it's hard to write smoothly yknow #anyway please tell me what you thought!#i had a stressful week and i hope that i can get ch4 out way faster than this #apologies!!!!!!!!!#careful - jd

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