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radicalbilly · 2 years

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Friends Support Friends

pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

summary: Now Billy may not have many friends but he’s never going to let his best friend suffer from a subpar experience.

word count: 3,060

a/n: NSFW CONTENT also dirty words i have never used before on this account also my second attempt at real smut. apparently i had many thoughts and i’m hoping this knocks me out of my rut. + Best Friends Too

warnings: 18+ nsfw content, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, 18+ language, smut seriously i will fight any minor who looks at this

If anyone were to ask, the answer would be “no, Billy Hargrove was not nosy”.

He was simply curious and maybe a bit hungry. And that was why he was digging through his best friend’s dresser drawers, no other reason.

He knew you hid candy around your room, well, he guessed that you still did because as far as he knew what girl didn’t have a stash of candy? And he also remembered you saying something about it one time when the two of you had hung out.

Billy flicked through a few pairs of your underwear, humming lightly in approval when he saw anything that was skimpy or had lace, even a few of the cotton options were piquing his interest.

He honestly was surprised that these were what you were hiding under your t-shirts and jeans, and, maybe, he was a curious to see what they looked like when you were wearing them.

Billy began to pocket a black pair, the intricate floral design in the lace catching his attention.

“What in the hell are you doing, Hargrove?” He didn’t even bother looking shameful, even when you stalked over and pulled your panties from his front pocket, tossing them back into your drawer.

“Nice pajamas you’ve got there, you big tease.” He laughed after rolling his eyes, he knew exactly where to find those panties when he wanted them again. He took hold of the fabric you were wearing and rubbed it between his fingers, he liked the softness of the silk. He let it fall when you pulled away.

“Okay, then,” he changed the subject, “where are your snacks?”

“My beside drawer, if there’s any left, you jackass,” you replied replied with a chuckle. You splayed out across the end of your bed and flipped through the channels on your television, “Why would I hide snacks in my underwear drawer anyway?”

Billy stopped before opening your nightstand, his fingers dancing over the handle, “That’s where I hide my stuff. My cigarettes, money, condoms-“

The word condoms immediately sent you on high alert, remembering what you else you hid in your bedside drawer.

“Oh, shit! Billy, wait!”

You were too late, Billy’s eyes immediately zeroed in and the most devilish grin you’d ever seen on him began to settle on his pretty face. You were mortified, face heating all the way to your ears as you watched him pull the light purple vibrator out of the drawer.

“Now, what’s this?” Billy hummed in delight, eyebrows raising suggestively. He flopped onto the bed, pulling himself to sit cross-legged and hover over you. With the vibrator dangling right in front of your face, a smirk graced his face in response to your scowl.

You snatched the offending item from his hand and shoved his shoulder. Billy was caught off guard, succumbing easily when you moved to straddle his waist. You leaned over to put the vibrator back into the drawer and pulled out a bag of Charleston Chews, shoving them against Billy’s chest. You moved from your spot, choosing to lay on your back in front of him.

He lowly cleared his throat and placed the bag top of the nightstand before turning towards you, “I don’t know if I’m hungry for candy anymore.”

It came out as a purr, something akin to how he got girls’ attention at parties. His fingers pulling your chin towards him and then lowering to toy with the hem of your shirt, “maybe I want something a little sweeter.”

“Don’t say that, Billy,” you huffed, turning your head back. He knew you too well to assume that you weren’t mulling it over, especially with the way your teeth were beginning to chew at your bottom lip. “I mean, it’d be awkward cause you’re my best friend.”

Billy could sense a deeper reasoning, a consequence of knowing you for so long. He cocked an eyebrow, urging you to go on.

“Also, I know you, and we agreed that I’m not a conquest thing.”

He had to admit that it was a bit of a sharp jab, but he didn’t keep you around for being a liar. The cockiness dropped a bit, “Don’t you trust me?” he hummed.

His thumb grazed over the apple of your cheek before he decided to grant some sincerity, “It won’t be awkward if all I’m doing is helping you out, right? And you mean more to me than that.”

It was soft and sweet for Billy to say that, but you knew if you dug further into his emotions that he would start to deflect, so you playfully rolled your eyes, “How many girls have you told that one to?”

Fortunately, he caught the joking tone.

“About four,” he answered in mock hurt, before pulling you up and maneuvering you back into his lap, “-doesn’t mean I haven’t meant it almost every time.”

A loud laugh escaped you lips and you swatted lightly at his chest, “Fuck off.”

Billy leaned in, mumbling “C’mon it’s a really good offer,” then the nipping at your throat started. Though your friendship had always had a plethora of sexual jokes and more physical contact than most, he knew that he was teetering on a thin line.

You sighed deeply, tilting your neck to give him more room. You tucked a hand into his hair, “Why are you offering anyway?”

“I think it’d be fun,” Billy admitted. His hand slipped under your shirt and he let his fingertips graze the bottom your ribcage, “I think it’s also a bit more convenient than what you’re doing now.”

“How so?” You chuckled, “I barely have to do any work.”

“Because,” he lowered his hand, his thumb lightly pressing right below your navel as he purred in your ear, “no toy is gonna tell you how pretty you look when you’re fucked dumb on a cock.”

He couldn’t help his groan at your breath hitching and the involuntary buck of your hips when his pinky slipped just under the waistline of your matching pajama shorts.

“Well jeez, Billy. Who’s being a tease now?” It came out as a low gasp. Under any other circumstance, you probably would’ve scolded yourself for how needy it sounded.

“Gimme permission, then,” Billy chided in retaliation, his hands fell to your waist and he gave testing squeezes. He softly rocked his pelvis against you and you could feel how much this situation was affecting him.

Heat rose to your cheeks again and you tugged his head back by his hair, grabbing his attention. Your expression was stern, “You’re serious about this, huh?”, maybe it was a bit late to ask that, given the position you were in but something continued to nag you in the back of your mind.

His expression softened for a split second, before grinning, “Sure I am, you’re always spouting that “friends supporting friends” bullshit,” he stuck his tongue out to lick a strip over your exposed cleavage, “let me support you.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

With one short nod of your head, Billy had begun pulling up the hem of your shirt, gaze burning into your skin as it became visible to him. He surprised you though, using his wet lips to graze your pulse point instead of the freshly exposed skin, “Are you going to let me kiss you?”

“Kiss me-“

If it was a question, Billy didn’t wait for the finish, he wanted it. Too damn cocky to beg his pretty best friend to let him kiss her like he’s thought about nearly a thousand times.

Your brain went fuzzy with the mix off his hands groping at the fabric of your bra and his lips pressed against yours. He continued to test his waters by pulling your lower lip between his teeth and quickly releasing it, he looked all over your face, making sure to take a mental picture of the furrowed brows and pout that you were making.

“Can I fuck you?”

You lazily nodded at him in reply.

“Say it,” it was stern despite how blushed his cheeks looked and how he said it after panting, “I’m not doing anything until you say that I can.”

“Fuck,” you grumbled in attempt to find your words again, “Fuck me. Please.”

Billy caved, pulling your lips back to his. He moved his hands to cup your thighs below your ass and you squeaked when tugged you to fall onto your back. He nestled his hips into the space between your spread thighs, thumbs digging into the pillowy skin to hold you open while he ground himself against you.

“You want me fuck you, huh? Want me to fuck that pretty cunt?” His questions had your head spinning, not knowing whether to pay attention to his foul mouth and words or the delicious burn of his denim jeans against your thighs and the feel of him pressed to where you knew you needed him.

You took ahold of Billy’s hand, desperation taking precedent over your nerves when you pulled it to your mouth and began to suckle at the tips of his fingers. You mumbled out something along the lines of ‘support me’ before his brain began to short circuit.

The second you released his fingers, Billy began to tug your shorts down. His lips pressing against the inside of your ankle before dropping the cloth to your bedroom floor. He looked down at you and gulped thickly when he realized that you were laid out nearly bare for him.

“No panties?” he questioned with a chuckle that sounded more strained than he intended.

You pulled yourself to lean back on your elbows, before furrowing your brows at him, “Uh no.”

“Well what in the hell do you mean with just “uh no”?” He asked again, your ankle still held up in his grasp.

“Billy, I usually never sleep in panties.”

“Oh,” he floundered, “okay then.” It was a stupid thing to say, he knew it, especially after all of the foul things he’d said before but now he could feel himself painfully throbbing in his jeans at the thought of all of the nights he’d laid in your bed with you not wearing anything but little shorts. He’d really have to take them off soon or he’d fucking bust in the denim like some kind of chump over you.

Billy tried to regain his composure by kissing up your calf, he was too enamored with the softness of it to not suck at the skin. You fell back and he let out forceful puffs of air whenever you made noises for him. But the sharp gasp at him biting the inside of your thigh had him standing to his feet.

He didn’t have much of a chance to undo his belt before you moved towards him, your fingers swatted his away and took over the ministrations. He let out a deep groan when your fingers danced over the zip to free him from its confinement.

When your fingers went to explore him further, he tutted at you, pulling back and haphazardly kicking off his shoes and his tugging his jeans down to throw backwards towards your closet. His shirt was off quickly after that and you openly ogled the trail of hair that disappeared below the band of his boxers.

He looked back at you, a devil’s grin etched onto his face, “Like what you see?”

“I’m sure I can work with it,” you sassed in order to amuse him, before pausing to look over him once more before adding, “I’m still waiting for you to prove that you’re better than my toy.”

“Oh really?” he hummed, stalking towards the edge of the bed. He tapped your knee, urging you to scoot back to allow him room.

You gave him a confused look when he dropped to kneel at the edge of your bed, both of his hands on your thighs. “Billy, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to prove it,” he answered you dumbly, pulling your thighs apart and attempting to hook them over his shoulders, “lean back.”

You huffed, neglecting to follow his request.“I thought you were going to fuck me.”

He let out a low hum before roughly pulling you towards him, closer towards his awaiting smirk. “Believe me,” he sighed, “I am going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck this pretty cunt with my tongue until you can’t stand to even look at that girly vibrating piece of shit.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before touching you, he wanted to stop whatever smart ass comment was brewing right in its tracks. “Hey there, pretty girl,” he cooed in awe, his thumb moving to drag over your folds and if he wasn’t so taken with the view he might’ve teased you for the loud hiss that you let out.

You looked down at him, his mesmerized eyes following the path of his soaked finger, and you had to admit that he looked so gorgeous, almost enough to convince you to let him have his way about proving you wrong. His blushed cheeks and his fingers that dug into your thigh and his ruffled hair were sending you into overdrive, it was overwhelming you in such a good way.

Billy could feel your frustration growing as you squirmed in your spot under his grip, he lost his resolve when you groaned out his name. He swore he’d never heard such an addicting sound, he had to grant you reprieve so he replaced his fingers with his tongue, following the same path that he’d traced before.

You had a white-knuckled grip on your blankets and you were praying that no one could hear the vulgar noises that were emitting from where Billy’s lips were now suckling at your cunt. You nearly sobbed when he prodded at your entrance with his middle finger, he groaned into you when he was met with little resistance.

He pulled back for only a moment to admire his handiwork, “Look at how badly you needed me, Baby. You’re taking me so well.”

You keened for his praise, whining at his words and for the pet name that had fallen with surprising affection from his lips.

Billy’s eyes rolled back and he moaned into you when he pulled your clit between his teeth and you replaced your grip from the blankets to his hair. With each harsh tug, he could feel you grinding yourself against his face and he used the motion to rut against the side of your bed for some relief.

You could feel a familiar heat in your belly and you didn’t have time to tell Billy before he tapped your outer thigh. A frustrated groan began to leave your lips, but was immediately taken over by a sharp gasp and your tensing at Billy sliding another finger into you.

He slowly pumped the two digits in and out, and found it very hard to not imagine that it was his cock disappearing into you, filling you up and making you twice as breathless as you were now.

As Billy gained speed and rhythm, you could feel the build again, the slow lapping ripples of your pleasure churning into tidal waves that you could drown in.

Your vision went white when Billy curled those two fingers and hit a spot that had your legs tensing around his head. He grinned pridefully at that, shouldering your thighs apart again and focusing solely on hitting that spot with the same depth and speed.

He knew you were reaching your peak, and if not from how you were fluttering around his fingers then it was definitely because you’d removed one hand from his hair to clasp over your mouth and quell the some the moans that were egging him on.

Your body tensed, thighs attempting to squeeze Billy’s broad shoulders as he worked you through your orgasm and licked the mess he made from your sensitive cunt.

He held them apart until you whimpered and his grip loosened, his mouth reluctantly pulling back from you and he looked like he had to convince himself to not just stare at the place where he’d just been. He stood, rubbing down your thigh before turning to your closet to find one of his other abandoned shirts and returning to wipe you clean of his spit and your cum.

You whined at the over stimulation and he apologized, tossing the shirt into your hamper when he finished. You could complain to him about that tomorrow but for now, you were sated and you could feel yourself getting drowsy.

“Don’t knock out on me yet, Hot-stuff,” Billy said, tugging the shirt he was wearing earlier over your head. When it was fully on you, he held your chin between his fingers, pulling you to look into his eyes, “I’ll be right back, turn on a channel that isn’t boring.”

You nodded lazily, watching him intently as he strode out of your room to what you assumed would be the bathroom. He’d somehow managed to slip into sweats while tending to you post earth shattering orgasm, but you decided not to linger too long on thoughts of Billy’s half naked body and flip through the channels on the television.

When Billy returned, his face was flushed and he had the same hazy look in your eyes that you did. You playfully swatted at his chest when he laid down beside you after turning out your lights.

“What the fuck was that for?” he questioned, eyes wide at the harmless attack.

“Did you just fucking jerk off in my bathroom?” you replied, slightly whisper-yelling at him.

“Um, fucking duh, (Y/N). What else was I supposed to do? I was hard as hell, that shit hurt.”

His genuine incredulous look had you snorting at him in bemusement and smirking with a snicker, “Aren’t we friends, Billy?”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed and he cautiously settled beside you again and wrapping an arm around you to grab a candy from the nightstand. He popped it in his mouth and dropped his arm to lay at your waist before replying with his cheek full, “Best friends apparently.”

You hummed in agreement, turning your head just enough for you to catch his gaze and to plant a soft kiss you his jawline. “We always could’ve tried more of that “friends supporting friends” bullshit.”

Read Best Friends Too for more!

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #stranger things au #stranger things imagine #radicalbilly writes #billy hargrove reader #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine

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stellar-skyy · 2 months

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NO TEARS LEFT — Platonic Arlecchino & reader.

i. SUMMARY: It was well-known that the Knave hated tears. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, hurt/comfort, found family, house of the hearth!reader, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1k words. iv. A/N: Is this ooc? Who knows! I'm choosing to believe Arlecchino is a strict but loving parent, so that is what I went with here. Hoyoverse, don’t make her an irredeemable villain please and thank you.

Crying was a rarity within the House of the Hearth.

It was perhaps odd for a place that housed dozens of children—their ages stretching between those barely able to walk, to those on the cusp of adulthood—to not hear at least a few sobs every now and then. But more often than not, the House was still, existing in an almost suffocating peacefulness. There were sounds; a rare echo of laughter from somewhere three halls down, or the steady drone of siblings talking over the top of each other, but never tears.

Occasionally though, a low cry will sound somewhere within the halls, and all close by will freeze. They will turn to the child—it was always someone new, who hadn’t been accustomed to the ways of the House yet—and hush them, whispering fervently:

Father hates tears.

Lynette was the kindest in telling the poor souls. She would wipe the streaks of tears off their cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve, shushing them gently. “Keep your voice down. Father hates crying children.”

Some of the older children were a little harsher in their reaction, elbowing the newcomer until they shut their mouths with a click, and let the tears drip silently down their face.

Every member who had been there long enough to be scolded at least once by Father knew the rules, and knew to keep their emotions locked away inside until they were either alone or dead. They didn’t dare to think of what would happen to them, should they dare to show such weakness.

The hunched figure that sat at the top of the stairs with their legs pressed against their chest was no new arrival, and yet tears had begun to slowly drip across their cheeks.

A click reverberated across the walls, and their head snapped up at the sound. They craned their neck backwards, while the clicking continued: the telltale sound of the Knave’s heels clacking against tiles. Instantly they were on their feet, scrubbing furiously at their eyes. The sounds grew louder, their posture stiffened, and their hands withdrew from their face right as the Knave turned the corner.

“Father,” they crowed, praying to the Tsaritsa that their voice was level.

“My child.” She responded in turn. Her eyes swept across them for a moment, and their eyes flicked to the floor instinctively. She continued down the hall at her usual pace, and it looked like she was about to move past them and down the stairs. Inwardly, they breathed a sigh of relief. It was a close call, but they would be in the clear once she stepped past—

A clawed hand caught their chin, tilting it upwards. Father twisted it gently to the left, then the right, observing the redness of their eyes and faint shininess on their cheeks. “You have been crying. What is wrong?”

And with that, any semblance of composure shattered.

A sharp draw of breath was their only warning before their throat closed up, and more tears trickled down, like they had never stopped in the first place. Sniffles left their lips first, soon followed with gasps and cries that echoed through the foyer. Father’s face turned blank, and the tears only fell faster at her reaction.

“I’m sorry—” they choked out between hitching breaths. “I-I’m sorry, Father.”

Father hated tears. Father hated seeing crying children, she hated—

“Hush now,” Father hummed, letting go of their face. They shrank back against the wall, shielding their face with their hands, as if that would do anything to stop her from seeing just how pathetic they were.

“I’m so sorry,” they repeated hoarsely.

“No apologies, dear.”

She paused for a beat of silence, letting them try to pull themself together.

“Do you know why I dislike tears?” Father asked quietly.

“Because crying is a sign of emotion.” They murmured mechanically, repeating the words the older residents drilled into their skull the day they arrived. “And emotion is a sign of weakness.”

“That is partially true.” Father agreed, tapping her cheek rhythmically with her nail. “As a member of the Fatui, you will be faced with many adversaries. You cannot afford unnecessary emotion; not when it earns you a target on your back.”

She paused to swipe a stray tear from their chin with her nail, wiping it on a handkerchief and continuing.

“It is dangerous out there for you, and I have a duty to train my children to be able to withstand the treachery that they will no doubt encounter. I do not tell you emotions are a weakness because I am cruel. I tell you it is a weakness because it is. You must learn young to control them; lest it cost your life.”

“I-I understand, Father.” They said in a strangled tone.

“I’m not finished,” She chided softly, without any real irritation behind it. “While out there, concealing such emotion is a strength, there isn’t a necessity to do so certain times. When you are in a place of safety, such is the time to let it out.”

Father extended her arms out in a clear invitation. Their eyes widened in shock, but they didn’t hesitate to fall forward into her waiting arms, letting themself be drawn tightly against her chest. Their hands grabbed fistfuls of the back of her coat, while she traced circles across their shoulder blades in a soothing motion.

“You are safe, my child.” Father crooned, dipping her head low to kiss the top of their head. “While you are here, there is no one to harm you.”

No one…

With arms strong enough to hold the weight of the world circling their waist, and nails that were sharp enough to tear out a person’s throat drawing lines up and down their back to sooth them, they believed her easily. She held them there for what had to have only been a minute, letting them sob into the front of her coat, clinging to her until their cries evened out into nothing.

And in that quiet moment, all they could comprehend was the soft, steady feeling that they are loved.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic x reader #arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x gn reader #arlecchino x gender neutral reader #arlecchino fluff

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tetsutits · 2 years

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cw ;; ab riding ushijima ... that is all. fem! reader. called baby one time. look away yall you dont see anything here

not proofread at all,, also HI HQ fandom im back - masterlist

nsfw minors dni.

“i wanna try something new tonight,”

ushijima pauses from where he sits under you, eyes peeking up with interest--silently telling you to go on while his large hands knead the flesh of your hips.

you look away sheepishly, embarrassed of what you're about to ask him. there's a persistent urge crawling up your spine, and your core aches with need, "i... i wanna ride you,"

his brows furrow in confusion. why would you ask him? you both already know where this night is going, and you've definitely made it clear to him when you crawled into his lap and placed your lips square against his.

"okay," he says flatly, face void of any expression--it wouldn't be the first time you'd ride him. "you can if you'd like."

the grip you have on his shoulders tightens, nails digging into the muscled flesh.

"yeah, but..." you shake your head slightly, unable to meet his eyes, and instead choose to fiddle with your bottom lip before you utter your next words.

"i... wanna ride your abs."

you think you've fucked up--because he completely stops moving, mouth agape, and his eyes are wide with shock. what makes it even worse is that he doesn't say anything back, completely silent as he processes your words.

"or-or not!" you blurt. "we don't need to do that! really, you can just ignor-"

"okay." he cuts you off.

you're stunned into silence, completely thrown off by his answer, because no - you didn't expect him to be so okay with your dirty desires. and you certainly didn't expect him to agree to try something new--right in the heat of the moment.

when you first started dating - he had some experience with random hookups and one night stands; he's told you that it wasn't much of a priority for him to sleep with someone every weekend. and while you weren't much stunned by the news -being the freak you are- you definitely felt like you had to hide yourself while being intimate with him - not wanting to make him uncomfortable with your sexual fantasies.

but now you're being stripped of your clothes, quick hands ridding you of your top and bottoms - there isn't much more said between you two when you shove him so he's laying down on the couch and the top of his hoodie over and up to his chin.

he angles your bare pussy over his abdomen, already glistening with slick and need. your hands find purchase on his well-built chest, using him to control your movements as you slowly sink down.

"oh, fuck," you hum at the immediate contact. he watches you with eager eyes, hands resting atop your thighs.

and it's so hot seeing him like this - sweat beading at his forehead and at the skin of his chest. his abs -just like every other part of his body- look like they've been sculpted by the gods to perfection. you'd mistake him for a greek statue if you didn't know any better.

"toshi-" his large hands grip the back of your ass, pushing you and grinding you even further into him. "a-ah, shit,"

your eyes roll to the back of your head as you lose yourself completely to the pleasure--your mind numb, body moving over the thick ridges and indents of his muscled skin.

'...you look so good using me like this," he breathes, snapping you out of your hazy state.

you laugh softly, "can't believe we've never done this before,"

your clit nudges back and forth between the valleys of his abs--stimulating you perfectly, the built up wetness makes it even easier for you to slide over his skin.

you note that its not rough--nor is his skin soft, its the perfect texture for you to use. its not overbearing--rather soothing in someway. you think he was absolutely made for you to ride.

the little happy trail that leads from his bellybutton to his hard cock tickles your cunt, the small hairs shamelessly coated by your juice. it sends shocks of pleasure up your body, and it has you moaning his name over and over.

"that's it," he pants, greedily helping you move, he watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, how your mouth is open, how your tits slightly bounce with every nudge of your hips.

he thinks he's never seen you prettier than you are right now.

"use me, baby. use me all you want," he whispers, looking up at you, knowing that your dancing at the edge of the cliff of your orgasm.

"ah-! fuck there!" you whine, and at the last grind of your hips, you're cumming straight on his abs. thighs twitching, head thrown back as you see stars behind your eyes.

he guides you through your high, strong hands remain on your flesh as he moves you back and fourth repeatedly.

you let out a heaving sigh, and slump into his muscled form. "fuck...you remind me everyday why i love your abs,"

his arms wrap soothingly around your shuddering frame, petting your hair, "only my abs?" he teases.

you look up at him from where your head rests on his chest, "all of you," you giggle, hand traveling down to where his hard and aching cock sits in his sweats.

"mostly your cock, though."

this got me out of my writing block. just thought ya'll should know jdbxb reblogs and feedback always appreciated !!!! <3

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi x you #haikyuu smut

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holllandtrash · 1 year

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disapproval | mick schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x leclerc!reader

request: "Mick Schumacher imagine where the reader is the youngest Leclerc. I live for overprotective brothers, so if you could include that. It doesn’t matter if it is a story or an Instagram au" word count: 2.6k warnings: none except kind of asshole brother charles so sry

You waited almost twenty minutes after the race started before sneaking out the back door of the Ferrari garage. Mick texted you saying ‘come by in 20’ but you figured 18 and a half minutes was close enough.

With all of the mechanics and pit crew focused on the race, you managed to make your way down to the Mercedes garage relatively unnoticed. You did receive a few questionable glances from the employees who did know you, but none of them said or did anything to stop you from opening up the door. Your VIP access pass was enough for you to do, for the most part, what you wanted

You shut the door quietly, not wanting to draw extra attention to yourself. You were a Leclerc in the Mercedes garage. Even if you knew next to nothing about the actual strategies or the game plan for the races, neither of the team principals would be too happy to see you in the competitions garage.

When you felt a hand on your waist, you jumped and gasped quietly, but when you heard Mick’s laugh you leaned into his touch.

“I said I’d meet you outside,” he whispered, pulling your back gently against his chest. Mick dropped his head and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, but you’re not supposed to leave the garage,” you pointed out. A loud cheer of excitement came from the pit crew when George overtook the car ahead of him and you pushed Mick closer into the corner, wanting to be as far out of the public eye as possible.

“You’re sweet,” Mick traced his fingers over your jaw and turned your head to face him, his bright blue sent fireworks exploding in the pit of your stomach. It had been eight months with this man and he still made it feel as though you two were the only people to ever exist whenever he looked at you.

You had started dating towards the end of the last season. Spending the break together was ideal and romantic and you had never been happier. Obviously, you both would have loved it if he was still driving this season, but being Mercedes’ race driver ensured that he would still be there every weekend.

There was only one issue.

Your older brothers were still very sceptical about your relationship. Charles, especially. He, sometimes, respected Mick as a driver and when they raced, they got along fine, but you were his younger sister, his only sister. To him, no one would ever be good enough for you.

That didn’t stop you, though. Mick made you happier than you’d ever been.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, chin resting on top of your head as the two of you watched the race play out in the garage. You could feel him wince whenever Lewis or George had a close encounter. And in return, he squeezed your sides gently when Charles had too much oversteer in the fifth corner and caused him to drop down a place.

“I wish you were racing,” you whispered, raising your hand up to cup his cheek. Mick turned his head and kissed your palm.

“No you don’t,” Mick chuckled. “Because then you’d have to choose between rooting for me or your brother.”

“Oh, definitely you,” the lack of hesitancy in your response made him laugh harder.

“Charles would never let you stand in his garage if you showed up in a shirt with my name on it.”

“Then I'd stand in your garage,” you shrugged your shoulders, your lips curled up into a sly smirk.

“Sweetheart, I want him to like me. I don’t need him thinking of ways to send me to the grave every time I pass him in the paddock.”

“He does like you!” you retorted, but you could both hear the uncertainty in your tone. You could feel him sigh and you corrected yourself, “He likes you as a person, just not-”

“As your boyfriend.”

You turned around in his grasp, interlocking your fingers behind his neck. Mick’s soft smile had the ability to calm your nerves. It didn’t matter what your brothers thought about the two of you. As long as you had Mick, you were fine.

There was a screen right behind Mick’s head and your gaze darted it for a second, only to see that there were a handful of laps left. Charles had managed to get the lead back and unless there was a red flag in the next few minutes, there was a good chance he’d finish first. As his sister, you basically had to be there to celebrate.

Mick could see what was going through your head and he raised his hand to your chin, gently pulling your attention back to him.

“Call me later,” he told you. “We can get dinner.”

“If Charles wins, a bunch of drivers are going out. Arthur too and he’ll expect me to join them.” you said, remembering the plans that he and Carlos made earlier today. Honestly, they didn’t need an excuse to go clubbing, but if they had a reason to celebrate then all the better. “Please come.”

Mick didn’t like going out. You had figured that out pretty early on in your relationship. The club scene just wasn’t him. He’d so much rather stay in and order take out. His favorite nights were when the two of you would spend twenty minutes trying to figure out what movie to watch as the pizza got cold only to always settle on reruns of shows you’ve already seen.

But he loved you and saying no to you wasn’t something he could easily do.

“Okay,” his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but as long as you were by his side tonight, he couldn’t complain.

You stood on your toes to kiss him, tuning out the rest of the garage, hell- the whole world, as his lips met yours. His grip on your waist tightened and it took everything in you not to pull him to the nearest washroom so you could have a bit more privacy.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips. He squeezed your side again and repeated the words back. As he lowered his arms, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, instantly ignoring the texts from Arthur wondering where you had gone all race.

A simple instagram story post would answer his questions.

You’d just have to remember to post a congratulations picture for Charles on your feed later, otherwise he’d be bitter. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but you’d know.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you assured Mick and he was quick to give you one last peck on your cheek before you headed out the back of the Mercedes garage.

You showed up at Ferrari just as the pit crew was running across the pit lane to climb onto the fences, ready to show their support for Charles who would cross the finish line any second now. No one seemed to notice your disappearance.

Until you locked eyes with Arthur.

With his arms crossed against his chest, he slowly made his way over to you, eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for an explanation.

“What?” You asked, turning your focus to the screen.

“You were at Mercedes?”

“For a bit, yeah,” you shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I was with Mick, why does it matter? It’s not like I'm needed here anyway.” You gestured around the nearly empty garage and when you looked up at your brother, you could tell he was ready to scold you. “Look, today is about Charles. Can we just save the talking to for another day? The last thing I need is for either of us to be in a pissy mood before we go out.”

As luck would have it, Charles turned the last corner and was heading down the track at full speed. The crowd was going wild, cheering on the Monegasque driver. It was deafening and you knew that you wouldn’t get a chance to personally congratulate him until later.

You waited until he went to parc fermé before grabbing your bag and heading for the back door of the garage. Arthur grabbed your arm before you could go anywhere. He had this look on his face, assuming that you were on your way to see Mick again.

“I’m going back to the hotel,” you assured him, yanking your wrist from his grasp. “I’d rather not get lost in a sea of people today, Arthur. Come and knock on my door when you guys are planning on leaving.”

A flash of regret crossed his face, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it came. He didn’t approve of your relationship either, but he also knew how happy Mick made you. The only one who actually seemed to be on yours and Mick's side was Lorenzo, but he wasn’t there to back you up today.

“Oh and I invited Mick to come out with us,” you flashed Arthur a cheeky grin, but you were already way out of the garage before he could even think about arguing with you.

A few hours, five shots and a spilled drink or two later, you found yourself in the middle of a conversation with Lando and Oscar. The three of you were tucked away in the back corner of the VIP section, sitting on the purple velvet couches while the majority of the other drivers were either dancing or at the bar.

You were doubled over laughing at something Lando had said and your stomach was starting to cramp from how much the two McLaren drivers were making you laugh. The three of you were all struggling to catch your breath when the driver of the day showed up,

“What is so funny?” Charles asked, nodding his head to instruct you to move over so he could squeeze in between you and Lando.

What was so funny?

“Lando-” you pointed at the Brit, but for the life of you could not remember what the joke was that had you breathless. You eventually shrugged, “You just had to be here.”

You reached for your drink that was on the table in front of you as your eyes scanned the crowded club. At the same time, Charles was watching you and there was no way for him to ignore the way your features softened when you locked eyes with Mick who was standing off to the side chatting with Daniel.

He sent a wink in your direction and even in the dim lighting, anyone who simply glanced your way would be able to see your cheeks turn a light shade of red.

“What do you see in him?”

You snapped your head towards your brother, not a fan of his harsh tone. “I see everything in him. He means the world to me, Charles.”

“You barely know him,” Charles rolled his eyes and beside him, Lando and Oscar slowly inched away from your conversation. They both knew tensions were high when it came to your relationship.

“No, you barely know him,” you retorted. “You see him as a reserve driver for Mercedes and nothing else.”

“That’s not true, I also see him as an ex driver for Haas,” Charles argued back, earning a stifle of laughter from Oscar. You shot both him and your brother a glare before you stood up from the couch.

“Trouduc,” you spat. Asshole.

“Hey, Y/N, come on,” Charles chuckled, reaching for your wrist before you could storm off. “I just think you could do better than Mick, is all. You have a habit of falling too hard too fast and I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Thanks for your concern,” the sarcasm dripped from your words and you firmly ripped your arm from his hold. He let go of you at the same time and the momentum sent you stumbling backwards.

You were half expecting to lose your balance and hit the ground, but instead a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist before you could fall. You looked up to see Mick, eyeing you with concern. The second his line of sight darted towards Charles, it clicked in his head what had happened.

For months you tried desperately to get Charles to understand that you were happy and in love. You wanted your older brother to respect your relationship and actually support it, but it was starting to become draining. You were beginning to think he would just never approve.

“You alright?” Mick asked, and even though you nodded, he saw right through the act. He reached for your hand and squeezed it.

“Can we go?” You asked him, wondering why you didn’t take him up on his offer to just stay in tonight.

Mick nodded and he started to pull you in the direction of the club doors. You only got a few feet away from the VIP section when he looked over his shoulder, presumably at where Charles was sitting.

“Mick,” you urged, tugging on his hand, “Let’s just go.”

But he had stopped walking, “Give me one minute, okay?”

“No what are you-”

You couldn’t finish that question. Mick had already walked back towards the couch. You watched as Charles stood up when he approached, eyeing up the taller blonde. Mick had a few inches over Charles, but both of them were intimidating in stance.

From where you stood, you couldn’t hear what you were saying, but you could see Mick’s muscle tense. You could make out the lines in Charles’ forehead. When Lando and Oscar stood up as well, you could tell they were getting ready to intervene if needed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to cross the floor and get involved.

And then Charles stepped closer. There was only a few inches of space between the two of them now and you were praying that they both cared about their careers enough to not do anything stupid. The last thing you needed was for this to turn into an altercation and blow up on twitter.

Lando said something to both of them and Charles looked over at you. Whatever Lando said was all it took for Mick to back off and make his way back to you. He grabbed your hand, linking your fingers together. You hated the scowl on his face. Mick was never angry.

“What did you say to him?” You asked when you stepped outside. Mick pulled out his phone to order an uber, ignoring your question. You poked a finger against his chest, “Micky, what did you say to Charles?”

Mick sighed, sliding his phone in his pocket, “I told him that he had to get over himself and accept the fact that you and I are together.”

You raised your eyebrows, waiting to hear Charles’ response.

Reluctantly, he told you. “He said that eventually you’ll smarten up. You’ll realise that you can do a lot better than me.”

Charles’ words had gotten to Mick. You wanted to scream at your brother for being so blatantly disrespectful.

“Don’t listen to him,” you said quietly. “He’s taking the whole protective older brother thing to the next level and he’s just being an ass.”

“He’ll never approve of us together.”

“I don’t need his approval,” you assured Mick. But you were both thinking the same thing. You didn't need his approval, but you definitely wanted it. You hated that your relationship with Mick was putting such a strain on your relationship with your family.

The uber pulled up and Mick opened the door for you, letting you slide in first.

You rested your head on his shoulder, letting the silence fill the car ride. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened up Instagram. Mick chuckled when he saw what you were posting and you felt him smile against your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

The rest of your night with Mick was wholesome. You curled up into the hotel room bed and you put on reruns of an old sitcom, both of you pushing the interaction with Charles far from your minds.

It wasn't until you woke up the next morning and saw the dozens of notifications. Missed calls, tweet and texts. All of them drawing attention to the comment on your post from last night.

Your heart sank when you opened up the app and saw what Charles had commented in the early hours in the morning, probably when he was just getting back from the club, and most definitely too drunk to be on his phone.

You could only assume that he had meant to send the photo to one of his friends, or even Arthur, but instead in his drunken state, the intended private message ended up being a very public comment.

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgfi, landonorris and 68,822 others

tagged: mickschumacher

yourusername mon chéri🖤

view all 2,678 comments

mickschumacher i don't speak french

yourusername use google translate dummy

paddockgf such cuties im obsessed🥹

sunshinelewis y/n leclerc is really out here living all of our dreams

charles_leclerc i reallt dont understand why they r together

yourbestfriend ... maybe because they're in love? try being supportive of your sister for a change landonorris too far charles, too far

You hurried to delete his comment, but at this point you knew half of the F1 media world had already seen it and the other half would hear about it before noon.

Your phone started to vibrate and you swallowed back a lump that had formed in your throat.

incoming call: charles

part 2 here part 3 here

requests are open

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher instagram edit #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher one shot #mich schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #charles leclerc #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #leclerc!readerl #lando norris

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suugarbabe · 9 months

Text

Peaceful Sleep

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x y/n

Warnings: drinking, fluff

The start of the year party was still in full swing when you and your group of friends tucked away into the back corner to play your usual game of truth or drink. Theo, Draco and Blaise sat across the big couch, in that order. Mattheo took the chair to their right while Pansy and Enzo sat in the loveseat on the left. You sat on a cushion on the floor, elbows resting on Draco’s knees. You had designated yourself as the shot pourer as you were (1) the most sober, though that wasn’t saying much and (2) Mattheo had a heavy hand and you didn’t trust him not to put an extension charm on the shot glass.

As you sat down, Pansy gave you the eyes, wiggling her eyebrows seeing you snug between Draco’s legs. You sneakily gave her the finger as you rolled your eyes, essentially telling her to shut her drunk mouth. Pansy had stayed at yours for two weeks over the summer holiday and you had essentially blabbed about your growing crush on Draco since year three. As soon as he stopped slicking his hair back it was like he was a whole different person, a hotter person. Each summer was just so good to him. He looked a little stressed this year, but you chalked it up to you all having to take your N.E.W.T.S. at the end of the second term.

“Okay, I’ll start us off,” Mattheo began “Truth or dare Enzo!” Enzo rolled his eyes, “truth, I s’pose”. Mattheo’s grin turned delivish, “Okay, how many wet dreams did you have about Pansy this summer!” Enzo’s cheeks immediately turned red. Pansy rolled her eyes, “Merlin, Mattheo, really this is how we’re playing tonight?” Mattheo smirked, shrugging his shoulders, “Isn’t this how I always play? Enzo, boyo, answer the question now.” Enzo shook his head, declining to answer. So you poured him a shot and he took it happily.

Enzo turned to Theo, “Truth or Dare.” Theo sat up straighter, though his eyes were half lidded, indicating he was far more drunk that he was trying to appear, “Dare, give me your best shot.” Enzo sat, thinking for a moment before Pansy leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Enzo’s grin grew as he nodded his head. “Okay, Theo, I dare you to go ask Looney Lovegood to hogsmead this weekend.” Theo looked over to the dance floor where Luna Lovegood was dancing with large glasses on, quite oddly, with a group of friends.

The group watched as he walked over to her, talking for a few minutes before walking back to the couches, a confused look on his face. “Well, what’d she say?” You asked as the group leaned in closer. Theo shook his head, “She said my head was full of Wrackspurts and that I should see Madam Pomfry tomorrow.” You all burst out laughing. You thought Luna was nice and she meant well, but you couldn’t deny how odd she truly was.

The game continued as such, dares being thrown out, truths being avoided. It seemed like any time it was Draco’s turn he would always choose the shot versus a truth or even a dare, which he normally loves. When he began leaning forward, resting his chin on the top of your head, you knew it was time to get him to bed. You softly pushed him off you before standing up and extending your hand to him, “C’mon Drunko Malfoy, you’re going to bed.” He made no arguments, standing up and draping an arm over your shoulder for you to lead him.

Pansy shot you a look but you did your best to ignore her. You heard the others continue with the game as you lead Draco up the stairs and down the hall to his and the boys room. Draco had a growth spurt between fourth and fifth year, making your height difference even more dramatic than it was, and making this walk more difficult than it should have been. You flicked your wand to unlock and open his door before flopping the large boy down on his bed.

You pulled off his shoes as he attempted to pull off his shirt. Your cheeks tinted a slight pink at the sight of his bare chest, his skin like porcelain in the moonlight from the window. You pulled back the top half of his duvet and attempted to make him lay down. “No,” he mumbled shaking his head. “C’mon, Dray, you need to go to sleep. You’re practically sleeping sitting up right now.” He shook his head again, eyes closed as he mumbled, “Can’t sleep with pants on. Belt too hard, help me y/n/n.” He reached out, grabbing your wrists and bringing them to his waist.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly undid his belt for him before he pushed his trousers down, leaving him in silk black boxers. Your face was on fire and you were thankful that Draco’s vision was probably half blurry at this point. He finally tucked his legs under the duvet and you covered him up. “Sleep good, Draco,” you whispered, kissing his temple. You knew you shouldn’t have but you couldn’t help it, besides he wouldn’t remember tomorrow right?

As you turned to leave, Draco’s hand shot out from under the blanket, grabbing your wrist, “Don’t go.” He said it so softly, almost like a child begging. “Lay with me, please, y/n/n.” Your heart wouldn’t let you deny him, so you nodded, “Okay, Draco.” You grabbed a t-shirt from his trunk, slipping your party dress and heals off and throwing his shirt over your bra and panties. It hung on your thighs lower than your dress did that night.

You climbed into bed next to him, laying on your back, hands behind your head. You looked over at Draco. His eyes were closed so you assumed he was sleeping until he spoke up. “I’ve been having nightmares all summer, I don’t wanna do what they want me to do.” You furrowed your brows in confusion, “What do they want you to do? Who’s they?” His eyes opened, they were still glossed over from being drunk, but tears were brimming the edges. “You don’t have to talk about it right now, Dray, I’m sorry. C’mere,” you pulled his face into your chest as he sniffled slightly. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer, hooking your leg over his hip like he was trying to melt into you.

You lightly scratched his back until his breathing evened out. You listened for a few moments, making sure he was fully asleep. After about ten minutes you attempted to roll him off you so you could go to your own room, not knowing how Draco would feel waking up sober, hungover and you in his bed. However when you tried to pull his arm off you Draco’s grip only got tighter. You sighed, not totally hating your predicament.

You closed your eyes, feeling exhausted, eventually falling asleep yourself. You awoke to what felt like your sides being tickled, not purposely but like someone was lightly dragging their fingers up and down your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, you looked down to see Draco awake, his hand tracing the lines of your side, disappearing beneath his shirt and back absentmindedly. “Good morning,” you spoke softly.

Draco jumped slightly at your voice, sitting up in his bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, y/n, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You sat up again his head board, “S’okay, Draco. How did you sleep? Any nightmares last night?” His face dropped, “I told you about those?” You nodded sleepily, “You didn’t tell me what about, and I didn’t push, don’t worry.” He nodded his head, shoulders relaxing a bit before admitting, “That was honestly the best I’ve slept in months.” You smiled widely, “Well I’m glad I could help.” Your heart was beaming, you couldn’t wait to tell Pansy. Draco ran his hand through his hair, “You might have to sleep over every night now, yannow, if you’re okay with that. We do have very important exams at the end of the year and I need to make sure I’m well rested.” You laughed nervously, though you hope it didn’t show, “I think we can definitely make arrangements.”

#draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #mattheo riddle #theo nott #theodore nott #Lorenzo birkshkire #blaise zabini

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writemekpop · 9 months

Text

Soldier | Lee Jeno

Summary: When your husband Jeno returns from the military, he treats you like a stranger. You won’t let your love go without a fight.

Genre: Husband!Jeno, angst

Word Count: 2k

Your nerves were buzzing.

After ten months, your husband Jeno was returning from military service in Afghanistan. The title ‘husband’ didn’t mean much, though. He had left just after you got married, so you barely knew him.

He’d been gone so long that you’d started to forget things about him – the intimate details. Like the smell of his hair or the sounds he made during sex. You’d barely spoken since he’d left.

After hours of waiting, you heard three sharp knocks.

You pulled open the front door, heart thumping.

Jeno.

Jeno’s black hair was shorter than you remembered, but his curly fringe was already beginning to grow back. He felt taller, more muscled in his military cargo. His honey skin was tanned from hours in the sun and there were deep purple bags under his eyes.

“Hi,” you said, inexplicably breathless.

“You changed the code on the door,” he said, frowning. “I couldn’t get in.”

The space between you flooded with awkwardness.

“One of the neighbours had break-in a few months back, so we had to change all of our codes. Crazy story!” you said, laughing.

Jeno just stared at you in stony silence.

You moved to the side to let him in.

You followed Jeno into the living room. Your eyes fell on the firm bulge of his biceps under his cargo top, and your stomach fluttered.

Jeno was staring at the checkerboard rug. “When did you get this? I liked the old rug we had better…” he grumbled.

You touched his arm lightly, choosing to ignore him.

“I missed you,” you whispered.

You reached in, trying to kiss Jeno’s lips – but your nose bumped against his. You tilted your head to the right, but the same thing happened. Left, no better.

You felt Jeno’s strong hands grip your shoulders.

Your entire body set alight. Would Jeno push you onto the couch and ravish you right there?

But to your disappointment, Jeno just pushed you away from him.

“Y/n, I’m tired and I need to shower. Can we save the reunion for later?”

His rejection came like a slap.

“Sure!” you said, trying your best to sound chipper. “Want me to join you in the shower?” You bit your lip and winked in the way you knew Jeno loved.

Jeno paused. “Umm…” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I sort of meant… alone.”

“Oh…” You prayed that the ground would swallow you whole.

Jeno walked off. When you heard the bathroom door shut, you slumped onto the sofa. This was so much harder than you had expected. Did Jeno not… want you anymore?

Ten minutes later, you heard a yelp from the other room.

You ran into the bedroom to see Jeno, dripping wet and naked apart from a towel wrapped around his hips, shaking like he’d seen a ghost.

“What’s the matter?”

Jeno pointed to the corner. “What’s that… thing?”

You giggled when you saw what he was pointing at.

You picked up the black and white striped kitten and held her to your chest.

“This is Kahleesi. I bought her with our wedding present money. It was lonely after you left… and she’s been keeping me company.” The kitten licked your chin lovingly.

Jeno grimaced. “I hate cats. They creep me the fuck out.”

You held the cat out towards Jeno, but he jumped back, eyes wide.

“You’ve literally been in a war but you’re afraid of a fluffy little cat? Some strong military man you are!” You laughed.

You looked at Jeno, expecting him to laugh too, but he was scowling. You cleared your throat. You clearly weren’t there yet.

Jeno turned away and dried himself off. You stared at the expanse of muscles on his back. There was a deep scar on his shoulder blade. You shuddered.

“Where does it sleep?” Jeno asked.

“Khaleesi sleeps in my… I mean, our bed.”

“I can’t share with a cat. Doesn’t it have a- a cage or something?”

“A cage?” you laughed. But then you saw the deep bags under Jeno’s eyes, and your heart softened. You sighed. “Why don’t you take the bed tonight, and I’ll sleep on the couch with Kahleesi. She’ll need to be trained not to sleep on the bed. It’ll take time.”

Jeno nodded and flopped down onto the bed.

You hoped Jeno would insist on cuddling you despite the cat, but he just rolled over and went to sleep. The Jeno you married promised to hold you in his strong arms every night of his life. The Jeno you saw now was… a stranger.

After a cold night on the couch, your body aching with longing for Jeno, the sound of thumping woke you up. It was only 5AM.

You could hear Jeno clattering about in the bedroom. It was strange. You were so used to living in silence that the noise from another human being shook you awake. Jeno must still be on military time.

Jeno stormed into the living room, eyes red.

“Y/n. Where’s all my stuff?”

“Good morning to you, too,” you grumbled, still groggy. You were not a morning person.

“My things, Y/n.” Jeno snapped. “All my clothes have gone, I can’t find any of my books. What have you done with them?”

You stood up. “Oh… um, I moved them to a storage unit.” You gulped. “I didn’t know when you were coming back and- and, I have a lot of stuff.” You cringed.

Jeno’s brows were furrowed deeply. He looked… genuinely hurt.

You ran towards him and gripped his arm. You were surprised by the firmness of his muscles, but you pushed that thought away.

“Jeno, I’m so sorry. I’ll get them for you this evening, I promise!”

Jeno yanked his arm out of your grip. “Clearly, you’ve moved on from me. Have you been fucking other guys too?” he spat.

Your mouth fell open. “How can you say that? I asked you not to enlist so early on in our marriage. We barely even knew each other before you… you vanished!”

Jeno just shrugged. “I owed it to my country. But I’m here now. And it’s obvious you don’t need me anymore. There isn’t even a single picture of me in here.”

You picked up the delicate locket that you were wearing.

“Look!” You opened the silver heart and angled it towards Jeno. Inside was a picture of the two of you kissing on your wedding day. “I haven’t taken this off since the day you left!”

Jeno raised his eyebrows.

You yanked the necklace off and chucked it at his feet. “How dare you accuse me of cheating! You’ve been dodging my calls for the past ten months!”

You ran into the hallway and put on your coat.

Jeno followed you. He was gripping his hair with both hands. “W-where are you going?”

“Work,” you snapped.

“But it’s a Saturday?” he said, looking puzzled.

You blushed. “Money’s been tight, okay? I’ve been picking up shifts at the convenience store.”

In an ideal world, you’d have shared all your worries with Jeno – that was what partners were for. But this was no ideal. You slammed the door behind you.

After work, you went by the storage unit, and dragged two large suitcases with Jeno’s stuff in through the front door.

“I’m back!” you called. “Jeno?”

There was no response. You heart dropped to your stomach. Had Jeno disappeared for good?

Tears pricked your eyes as you walked into the living room.

When you looked inside, you gasped.

Jeno was sitting on the rug, shirtless, holding a ball of string high in the air. Khaleesi was in his lap, her little paw stretched up towards the string.

When you saw Jeno’s naked chest, your mouth went dry. His torso was lean, yet defined with rippling muscles. There were so many lines you didn’t even know existed. What shocked you the most were his thick forearms – they were covered in claw marks.

“Oh my god, Jeno,” you cried. “What happened?”

“The kitten’s not so bad, you know,” Jeno said, chuckling. “She’s feisty, like her mama.” Jeno’s eyes darted towards yours, his cheeks darkening. “She tore my shirt to shreds.”

You knelt on the floor beside your husband. The kitten jumped into your arms. You were increasingly aware of how close you were to Jeno’s starkly naked body.

“She’s sitting on your lap… that means she loves you,” you said. “I…” you cleared your throat. “I love you too. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

Jeno’s expression turned serious. He held your hand gently. “I shouldn’t have yelled. And… I’m sorry for going away for so long. I’m done with the army - I can’t leave you again.”

The knot inside your stomach finally began to unwind.

“Do you think… we’ll be okay?” You couldn’t bear to look at Jeno, so you stared down at your joined hands.

“I know it.” Jeno’s voice was deep, confident… sexy. It made your entire body buzz.

Jeno placed his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were smouldering.

“We just need to get to know each other again.” His gaze darted to your lips. “What makes us… click.”

Your heart started to pound.

Jeno leant forwards, closing the gap between you. His mouth pressed against yours, and he kissed you hungrily.

His tongue grazed yours, making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and shuffled onto his lap.

Jeno’s hands curled around your waist, holding you tight. You kissed him deeper, you couldn’t get enough of him - his scent, his firm, warm body. It was intoxicating, and you wanted more.

You brought one hand up to his black hair and pulled, hard. Jeno let out a deep groan that went straight to your core.

You pushed him till he was lying flat on the floor.

“Honey, we have a lot of catching up to do,” you purred, straddling his hips.

Jeno smiled up from underneath you, black eyes crinkling. “Can’t wait.”

—

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indouloureux · 2 years

Note

Hi! Could I request something like reader and Eddie being in a relationship just a couple of weeks a maybe and reader is a bit shy and they meet readers friend who’s also a guitarist and also a hot rock and roll girl, reader is getting insecure and jealous but Eddie assures her that she’s the one and only ❤️

i love this!! thank you for requesting <3 (fem!reader)

you trust eddie.

you'd only been together for a few weeks, yet trust has been bound tightly the moment you two have met. he had that charm, that ambience—that despite his silver-donned and black outfits, he had a key to every secret told to him and kept it hidden as a promise.

besides that, he made you trust him with your whole heart, secrets and whatnot. he won't cheat, he won't fall out, and he'll love you forever.

he said it and you knew it.

you trust your friend.

she met eddie when you introduced her to him during one of his gigs, thinking harmlessly that they'd be good friends with their similarities: both metalheads, both ozzy osbourne worshippers, both nerds.

you thought they'd make great friends and they do. but doubts and you? eh, not so much.

doubt isn't a great friend. neither is jealousy. neither is insecurity. especially, insecurity. fucking bitch.

you didn't realize then that you'd feel... a heavy pressure on your chest seeing them interact. suddenly you felt jealous, a little left out, because you're thinking—what if eddie wanted a girl like her? a girl like him?

you do not trust yourself.

it's not like you're any different. you like the things he likes, but you like your own things too.

albeit the ache of jealousy never settles and to add salt to the wound, insecurity never hinders. never waves its white flag around. you don't like that they're in their own world talking about something while you're beside them.

"hey, babe?" the sobriquet makes you blush a little, turning away from your desk with a pencil in your hand. eddie tucks his neatly folded handkerchief in his pocket.

"yeah?"

"your friend's asking me to meet up at the hideout."

your blush dies into something pale and soon, a lifeless paint. "what, like, right now?"

eddie nods, shrugging his jacket on. "yeah."

you don't want him to leave yet. it's barely four pm. and you don't like the fact that she's asking him to hang out again for the second time this week. your lips purse and move to the side, diverting from his gaze. and had you not looked away, you might have seen his eyebrows furrow in curiosity; or suspicion.

"can you maybe stay for a little bit longer?" you ask, placing the pencil down.

with a soft look of concern, he approaches you, socked feet on the carpet of your floor. then his index curls around your chin and tilts your head up, his thumb tracing the left corner of your frown.

"why, sweet thing?" he asks quietly, fingers dragging up to tuck your hair behind and pout softly, his ring cold against your heating skin of embarrassment.

"nothing! it's just," you scratch at your temple, looking at his pale wrist, see the way his purple and grey veins twirl around his limb. "i just- want you here, 's all."

he takes his hand from your cheek to card his fingers through your hair, slicking it back before patting it down. eddie hums quietly like he's in thought, like he's settling for a hypothesis to choose in his head.

though it's been a couple weeks of something more, eddie has gotten you memorized in those years of longing.

"do you not want me to hang with her?"

"what?" you push back slightly, though his hand never leaves the top of your head. you laugh nervously. "teddy, why would you say that?"

teddy rings around his head like a guitar riff that lulls him to sleep. pink tinges his cheeks. "i know when you're thinking really deep, baby. i know when something's wrong."

he crouches down, between your legs, his elbows on your knees as he takes your face in both his hands and cradles it like the moon. "tell me what's wrong, baby, come on." eddie adds.

you sigh and look down on your lap, feeling his thumb stroke your cheekbone. there's a whimper that leaves you and your heart aches just a bit.

"i guess maybe i'm a bit jealous," you murmur. "because she's like you and i think that you like it better that she's like you...."

eddie's touch falters a little, but the warmth of his skin lingers on your flesh. you see how his eyes darken a bit in sympathy and disappointment—in himself, you can read. but you don't know why.

"sweets, do you remember when i asked you out on a date?" you nod. "and you asked me why and i said 'well, it's because you're pretty. and you're you, and you make me smile and you make me laugh and you make me cry and you make me do the stupidest shit in existence but it's okay because i do it for you'?"

you find it amusing how he memorized every word. you find it funny how you remembered that moment; between a shared joint and a movie. "yeah?"

"what i say still stands. i like it better when it's you. i like it when it's you. and shit, babe, i like it that you're kinda not like me. 'coz then i get to teach you. what's mine is yours, sweetheart. i'm happy to be the only one who introduces you into things i like," he takes your hand and brings your knuckles to his lips. "and i like it when you teach me what you like. makes me get to fall more."

"what's mine is yours," you quote from him. "okay, you sap."

eddie leans up to kiss you. your friend's in the back of your head now. and all you're thinking is eddie, eddie eddie eddie and you. and how he said that you're pretty.

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things x reader

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avocado-writing · 14 days

Note

I will forfeit all my worldly possessions for some gortash nsfw, you’re amazing keep up the good work!

cws: hate sex. gn!reader x gortash. enjoy!

you fucking hate him. oh, you hate him.

you make sure he knows it every time you run your nails down his back, rake them, really; leaving hot red welts in their wake. you want him to cry out in pain. instead he hisses in pleasure and buries himself in your further.

it is delicious. it is torture. it is heavenly.

when he’d suggested you’d work together, you’d swallowed your pride and done it for the good of baldur’s gate. the people loved him after all, even if it was all due to his campaign of faux grandeur. ‘a man of the people’. as if. if he was in a lineup and you had to choose the person who you thought had crawled out of the hells, you’d pick him every single time.

but still, despite it all, despite his devilish upbringing and baneite loyalties, there was a bigger enemy to face, and he was a powerful ally.

so ally you did.

it started off innocent enough, him calling meetings with you, just you. strategising, he reasoned. no point in not sharing information. you looked at him with disdain over his map of the city, he just arched a brow.

you hated yourself for having a reaction to it, burning white hot in the pit of your stomach. a mix of rage and lust. when everyone was asleep that night at the elfsong, you shoved your hand between your legs to ease the pressure he had built up, cursing him as you came.

his honeyed words dripped on you. dulled your senses to the lurid colours of his purulent personality. he was evil. viciously so. no good to be next to in the long run.

yet when he hooked the finger of his gauntlet under your chin and brought you in for a kiss, you did not pull away. you met his challenge head on. you teethed at his tongue when it slipped between your lips. you wanted him to know you’d take what you needed from him and hate him as you went. he wanted you to know he didn’t care and would enjoy it anyway.

and now: this.

his hand slipping up your thigh during your meeting until he cups your sex. you near-snarling in return and ripping at his fine clothes, hungering for the meat of his body. you are no aesthete. there is no use in pretending you care about what your tear away - he surely has the best tailors in this city at his beck and call, and it goes some way to soothing your wounded ego when his gown is in scraps from your ardour.

and it is wounded, of course, because you debase yourself like this.

he sits you on top of the map of the city, lays you out over it, and fucks you. there’s a poetry to your bodies combining on top of your shared home. he thrusts and you growl in the back of your throat, smothering his smug smile by forcing him into a near-violent kiss. hate him. you hate him.

his cock slides into your body, thick and hard, and despite your better judgement there is a little thrill in knowing that you get this powerful man to have such a reaction. that the roseate of his cheeks and heave of his chest is because he desires you with his whole being. you purr when his head dips between your legs and he ravishes you with his tongue, just as clever when it fucks as it is when he speaks.

you want to take him apart piece by piece. as he thrusts down into you, dark and dangerous eyes boring into yours without missing a beat, you know he wants to do the exact same in return. reduce you both to parts. jigsaw them together and let the combination of the two of you rule this city, rule the brain, rule the world.

every time you couple, you let yourself get lost in the idea of it for just a moment. the idea of him. the idea of him and you.

but when it is over and you are both sated, your mind and sense return. you cannot trust this man, even after he has been inside of you, when he knows the most intimate etchings of your soul.

so you bid him goodnight, and no more. he is once again an enemy held as close as a friend.

“until next time,” says Gortash with an easy smile, and you want to tell him there will be no ‘next time’ - but it would be a lie neither of you would believe.

#Gortash x reader #gortash x tav #enver gortash x reader

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

Text

—𓆩[almost (sweet music)]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

one of my first music inspired fics, inspired by Hoziers Almost (Sweet Music)

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem! Wife! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.3 k

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Watching you and Bradley be the cutest couple on earth reminds him of his best friend. He wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - this is just adorable fluff || established relationship || I’m a med student guys, I know it doesn’t happen overnight y’all have been having sex for a while- || goes from Mav’s POV to yours and Bradley’s (multiple times) || timeline jumps around || pregnant reader (later) || mom & dad || don’t forget that our boy is 38 years old || Bradley’s great balls of fire <3 || mentions of death || crying || reminiscing || high school sweethearts ||

If there was one person Maverick remembers in Bradley’s young life, it was you, his god-son’s best friend and neighbor. He already had a bet going with Carole - you were going to be the woman that Bradley married, they were just betting on how long it would take.

From the age of sixteen when you both officially started dating, it took him five years to propose and seventeen years after that did you both finally have children. Since you both were aviators, it was harder for you both to actually settle down until you both got to Top Gun, where the baby fever actually started.

Maverick had followed you and Bradley throughout your careers, and you were a highly decorated pilot who had done more than six missions in the last three years before the uranium enrichment plant mission. Stalking you both on social media proved useful as well, being able to see the two of you on the annual trip you both went on anywhere in the world for your anniversary.

Maverick was happy you made his boy happy.

It did surprise him when you asked him not to send you on the mission, though. You were scared in front of him, fiddling with your fingers as you swallow slightly.

“You… you don’t want to go on the mission?” You were first in his mind to pick, not because he didn’t want to bring Bradley, but because he knew that you wouldn’t think and just do. Bradley still had a bit to learn, but you not wanting to go on the mission changed everything.

“I-It’s not that I don’t want to go,” you rub at your wrist, swallowing. “I-I just… want you to go with Brad- Rooster. You and Rooster should go together.”

Maverick looks out to the water, sighing heavily. “Zorro,” he uses your call sign, rubbing his chin. “I trust you. I trust Bradley. I’m not going to not send you-”

“I may be pregnant.”

He paused, though it was more like a freeze. Pregnant? You? Bradley? A father?

Now he had to bring him back. “What?”

You nod, rubbing the skin between your thumb and pointer finger. “I am not sure, but I have been having some symptoms, though it isn't certain.”

“Does Bradley know?”

“Know what?”

“That you’re talking to me. That you could be pregnant.”

You nod, then shake your head. “He knows that I’m talking to you. He doesn’t know that I’m asking you to choose him, but I kind of knew you would. He doesn’t know I could be pregnant.”

Maverick sighed heavily, rubbing his chin. He didn’t know what to do - of course he would’ve chosen Bradley, but if something happened? If you were pregnant and he wasn’t coming back?

“Pete,” you whisper, tapping on his chest. “You keep him safe. Please.”

He swallows, nodding slightly. “I will.”

You lean up, holding his face to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Mav.”

“Y/N,” a voice says, Maverick’s head snapping over to see Bradley. “You ready?”

You smiled, nodding. “So ready.”

You waved at Maverick as you jogged over, immediately finding your place under Rooster’s arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. Bradley looks back as he pressed his face into your hair, nodding slightly at Maverick as you began ranting about something random going on at your shared home back in San Diego.

Bradley listens, his hand slipping into your back pocket as he pressed kisses against your forehead. He hums occasionally to assure you knew he was still listening, Maverick swallowing as he stared at Bradley’s side profile.

He really did remind him of his father.

“Talk to me, Goose,” he whispers as soon as you both are out of earshot, staring out at the water before someone says his name.

“Maverick,” Warlock stood there, staring. “It’s time.”

When Bradley and Maverick get out of the Tomcat, you were the first to jump into Bradley’s arms. Your own go around his shoulders, Bradley holding back a sob as he tightly wrapped his arms around your waist as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Oh my darling girl,” he whispers into your ear, sighing heavily as he stroked your hair, kissing at your temple. “Fucking hell, I couldn’t stop thinking about you up there.”

“If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you,” you mumble in response, sniffling as Phoenix and Hangman make their way over, Bradley pulling your face closer to his neck as he kisses your cheek. “You’re so stupid.”

“I didn’t think. Like you told me.”

“Yeah, that’s good. That’s good, Roo.” Your fingers push into his hair, sighing as he loosened his hold on you, but still securely holds you to his body.

You don’t make a move to get down, Rooster speaking with Phoenix and Hangman as you finally find Mav. You smile at him, mouthing a ‘thank you’ as he smiles back. He nods, watching as you pull away from Bradley’s shoulder, interrupting his words with a firm kiss to his lips.

Phoenix whoops as she claps, Hangman laughing as Bradley basically turns to mush, groaning into your mouth as you hold his collar firmly. Your hand goes through his hair, his mustache tickling your lips as you pull away. You bite your lip slightly, giggling as you lean close to his ear. “I’m glad you’re back, baby. Have something to tell you.”

Natasha heard, grinning. You had already confided in her about the fact that you could have been pregnant, and watching Rooster’s face as you told him was something that would forever be engraved in her mind.

“We’re having a baby?” He whispers as you brush your nose against his, giggling.

“We could be. I haven’t taken a test-”

“Even if that test is negative, sweetheart, we’ll be having a damn baby.”

You laugh as he spins you around, lifting you up as you hold his shoulders, yelling out, “We’re having a baby!”

You both reminded Maverick of Bradley’s parents, and he couldn’t have been more thankful to see something like this.

When you and Bradley got back home, your fingers trailed over every inch of his skin. What if you would’ve lost him?

That night was the night you both memorized every inch of each other’s bodies again, using muscle memory to get each other to a point of an amazing orgasm.

Bradley’s large hands gripped at the sides of your thighs, his mouth pressed into your hot sex as you held his head, gripping his brown curls. If there was one thing your husband knew, it was how to work his mouth. He had memorized your body after the twenty two years he had been with you, his hands squeezing at your hips as he pulls you slightly off the bed.

“Pl-Please, Lee, is’ too much, t-too much,” you were putty in his scarred hands, eyes rolling back as his mustache grazed over your clit.

He lets his spit gather against the sensitive nerve, smiling at the loud groan that fell from your lips, then proceeding to use his tongue to drag his saliva down to your cunt. Your thighs tighten around his head, moving his hands to your inner thighs to press them against the bed.

When you whimper, he looks up, staring at you through the pretty valley of your tits. He winks, pushing between your pussy lips to press his tongue into your sex, moving one hand to prod against the sensitive ring of muscles with his slick appendage. He watches your eyes roll back, thighs quivering as you inhale deeply, Bradley watching his spit slowly dribble down your slit to the wet sheets under you.

The sight almost made him go crazy.

He pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you, sucking and popping against your clit before dragging his tongue back down. He licks around your entrance, a loud moan leaving your lips before he pulls out his soaked, slick fingers. He spits into your pussy, a yelp leaving your lips as he takes his hand, spreading your lewd juices all over his cock.

He bites his lip as he crawls over your body, lining his cock up with your cunt, using his tip to gather up the cum-saliva mixture dribbling down your pretty lips. He hissed as he pushed himself in, your tight spongy walls clamping down on his cock as you came, body convulsing before he pulled your arms around his neck.

“Come on baby, I’ll make you feel good. I’ll make you feel so good, you know I will, don’t give out on me now,” he grunts into your ear, trying to hold back from ramming into you. He was unsuccessful, the slight bucks of his hips making your overstimulated body jolt and a scream fall from your lips. “You got a few more for me, right?”

He pulled away to look at your fucked out face, the saliva running down your chin and your swollen lips he hasn’t stopped kissing and your hazy eyes with tears adorning your cheeks. You whined, nodding as your hands ran across his chest, one hand going down to cup at his balls as the other wrapped around his shoulders. “Kiss me, Bradley, please kiss me.”

He does, of course he does. He always listened to you, anything you wanted, you got.

“Fuck me, Bradley, fuck me hard.”

Oh, of course he would. What kind of husband would he be if he didn’t?

He pressed his lip to yours again, holding your body close to his with strong hands on your hips. Whispering praises against your lips, he lays you gently along the bed, letting his hands rub against your perfect body.

He leans down, pressing kisses all along your plush skin as he thrusts his hips, quick and hard just like you loved it. He groans against your skin, his rough hands rubbing along your skin like a ritual, a quick pop of his lips every few centimeters of your skin.

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, his tongue trailing along your shoulder as his cock dragged against your walls, one of his hands pushing down to slide between the two of you and rub against your sensitive, puffy clit. He watched, his ego inflating as you threw your head back with a loud scream of his name and a curse.

He takes your thighs, pulling them closer to his body before lifting you up just a bit. Bradley watched your mouth fall open, eyes rolling back with loud moans filling the room as he thrust into you, leaning down to press a kiss to your open mouth. Your hands run through his hair, tugging softly which makes him groan loudly, the added pleasure from your soft fingers and your cunt clamping tightly around his shaft making his eyes roll back.

“You’re doing so good for me, darling, so so good,” he praises into your ear, groaning as you kiss his head. “You’re doing so good, you got one more for me? Please?”

You nodded, eager. “Yes, I do, of course I do Bradley. I have as much as you want, please.”

He smiles, leaning down for a kiss. “I love you, darling.”

You giggled. “I love you too, Bradley. I love you.”

He kissed against your cheek, his thrusts turning softer before getting rougher again. They were rough, hard- a signal he was losing controls. He groaned out, your nails dragging down his back, a loud moan leaving your lips.

“I-I’m close! I’m close, I’m close Bradley, f-fuck, fuck Bradley.”

He laughs, smiling down at you. With a soft grunt, he slams into you, moaning loudly as your walls clamp down on him, tipping him over the edge.

His eyes roll back, loud moans falling from his lips and your name being whispered into your ear, praiseful words soothing you as his hands rubbed against your soft tummy. “Feel good, darling?” He whispers into your ear.

You nodded, head resting against his shoulder as you panted, the feeling of his cum filling you up making you moan again as he moved slightly. “Gonna fuck me through it, Bradley?”

Oh you tempted him, and with soft rolls of his hips, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Yeah darling, I will,” he rolls his hips slowly, watching your eyes roll back before letting his hands palm at your pretty tits. “Want to take a break? Let me clean you up?”

You nodded slightly, hissing as he pulled out, his eyes staring at the cum- his cum slowly trickled out of you. You looked so, so pretty full of him.

He takes his fingers, slowly pushing the cum back into you, your thighs quivering. “B-Bradley, Bradley please-”

“It’s okay, darling, I promise. I’m going to clean you up.” He whispers, mischief dancing in his eyes as you whine.

“F-Fuck, Bradley-”

He takes his place between your thighs, sucking on your puffed up clit as he thrusts his fingers into you, pushing your mixed cum back into you. He pops kisses against your thigh, leaving soft red marks everywhere he went before grinning up at you. “Told you we’re having a baby no matter what.”

You went with Bradley to Maverick’s hanger, dressed in a pretty purple sundress with white flowers dotted all along it. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist as he walked in, the morning sickness from the past couple of days worrying him.

“You alright, darling? Do you need a seat, some breakfast? A drink?”

You only giggle, shaking your head. This type of concern was rare for Bradley to show outside of your shared home, and as much as you appreciated it, you softly pushed him away. “I’m okay, Bradley. Go.”

He looks back at the plane, groaning. “Are you sure? We can go back. We can go back home-”

“Bradley. Go.”

He sighs, slowly pushing you into a chair. “Just… let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Go!” You pushed him, watching as Maverick slowly came down from a platform.

He waves at you, a giggle falling from your lips with a quick wave as Bradley walks over to him. They stand in front of each other for a minute, awkward, before Maverick hugs him.

It was tight, the hug, tighter than he thought it would be. Or, initially meant it to be. Maverick slowly pulls away, ruffling his hair before leading him up the platform, looking over at the wall that had one of Bradley’s old baseball pictures on it.

He watched as Bradley looked back at you, your form relaxed in the most comfortable chair Mav could find and that he put out for you. Bradley smiled, a pure, perfect smile as you crossed your legs. You wave up at them, Maverick coming behind him with a smile.

You reminded him of Bradley’s mother, who on some days would just sit there, watching him and Goose work on whatever they had to. He looks over at Bradley, that stupid smile and that mustache that was just like his dad’s making Maverick sigh.

It was like looking into a mirage, a dream of wanting to see his best friend again. And for a minute, he did. He saw Goose in Bradley, and it made his heart swell in happiness, or feel as though it was.

“Mav? What’re you staring at?”

The mirage was gone. The time Maverick wanted to go back to so bad was gone, and now he was here, with Bradley.

Even then, though, the happiness never went away.

Bradley, though, stared at him in confusion. “Mav?”

Maverick shakes his head. “Let’s get to work, kid.”

Your baby shower was at the Hard Deck, hosted by Penny and Phoenix. The future godmother of your baby was excited, and she made sure everything, everything was perfect so neither you or Bradley had to worry.

You were expecting twins, and this would determine what you would be having with your husband, and the names you two had settled on as well. Since you met Bradley, you already knew the names of the children you’d want - mainly because you and him had been together since what could’ve surely been the beginning of time.

You had finally sat down after being on your feet for about an hour, saying hello to everyone and doing whatever a good host would do. So finally, you lift your feet onto a chair as you sit on the patio of the hard deck, stroking your tummy. You needed some air from the crowded party, especially because Bradley was worrying about you because you were nearing your due date.

The baby shower was late, especially because Bradley had to go on a mission, and that made him even more protective. He didn’t want to leave, but the way you forced him to made him know that he could, that he had to. You both were aviators before you were going to be parents, and you both sure as hell were going to be aviators after for hopefully a long time.

You let your fingers trail over your tummy, sighing heavily before looking out at the beach. You relax when you feel someone’s hands on your shoulders, those oh so familiar hands that rubbed softly, releasing all the tension they once had. “Oh my… darling, that feels good.”

Bradley smiles. “Of course, darling. Are you alright?”

You sigh. “I uhm… I’m just, a little- fuck.” You cursed, a sharp pain shooting into your lower abdomen. Bradley quickly goes around, stroking your side. “Baby? Darling, you alright?”

I shook my head. “N-No, I’m fine! I’m fine, it’s just… these pains have been happening for a few hours, but uhm… I don’t know, th-they just got worse.”

“Babe, we need to go to the hospital.”

You shook your head. “Why? We haven’t even had the gender-” you gasp, holding your stomach. The sharp pain made you straighten, another loud groan falling from your lips in pain as Bradley looked around frantically.

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No! No, don’t,” you say, inhaling deeply as you stand. “J-Just drive me there. Please.”

He nods. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll tell them-”

You gasped, holding your stomach as you hunch over. “Bradley. Bradley, oh my god, Bradley- we’re having a baby. Babies. We’re having babies.”

He freezes. “Right now?”

You let out a scream of pain. “Yes! Yes right now, holy shit!”

Six hours later, your sons Nikolai and Zion were born, Nikolai named after Bradley’s father, Nick.

As soon as you were back on your feet, there you were, sitting at the Hard Deck in front of the piano. You were breastfeeding Zion as Bradley held Nikolai in his arms, who you both often called Nick, Bradley - of course - singing Great Balls of Fire.

You laughed next to him, leaning against his shoulder as maverick stood at the bar, sighing.

I’ve got some color back, he looks at you, who smiles back at him.

She thinks so too.

He laughs as Nikolai slams down on the keyboard, absolutely ruining the keys of Great Balls of Fire, but when Bradley laughs and kisses his head, he sighs heavily. I’m almost me again.

Bradley looks back at him, smiling. He jerks his head to the side, beckoning Maverick over. And he does, walking over to see his godson’s babies.

He’s almost you.

reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! I love getting y'alls feedback :)

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hypnoneghoul · 1 month

Note

go hypnone, if it's okay could I ask for something with rain and his physical pains? my feet and wrist have flaired up for no real reason this week and it made me think of him.

never gonna say no to some projecting onto rain. also i hope your feet and wrist stop giving you hard time asap :/

580 words, hurt/comfort/fluff

“Did my favorite water ghoul die in his sleep?” Swiss burst through Rain’s door, no regards to anyone’s privacy as usual. He walked over to the bed and the Rain-shaped lump on it. “It’s nearing lunch and you haven’t had breakfast. You love breakfast, raincloud, are you okay?”

“What do you think?” he growled from under all the covers.

“Rain,” Swiss said sternly, in that specific voice that the water ghoul knew all too well. He and Swiss had made an arrangement ages ago, that when Rain acted like an asshole towards someone who didn’t deserve it because of his pain, Swiss would scold him. It worked.

“‘m sorry,” Rain mumbled.

“It’s alright.” The multi ghoul smiled sadly, knowing now that it was indeed a bad day for Rain. He sat by him on the edge of the bed and put a hand over the lump made of Rain and the bedding. “Can I see your pretty face, princess?”

With a loud grumble the lump shifted and Rain’s head poked out, eyes puffy with purple under them. “Hi, Bambi.”

“Hi, Swiss.”

The multi ghoul laid down on his side—as close to Rain as the blankets and comforters he had wrapped around himself would allow—and kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m sorry, princess. It sucks. Anything I can do?”

“No, it’ll pass, just–” the water ghoul sighed. “Just lay with me, okay? Hold me?”

Swiss smiled and leaned in for another kiss, this time to the other’s lips. “Always, raincloud.”

He shucked off his jeans as Rain wiggled an arm out to lift the contents of his nest. Swiss chuckled at that—the reminder about how a nest should look like on the tip of his tongue. The water ghoul was famous for getting under his nest rather than into it.

Swiss crawled back in and laid on his back, letting Rain choose how he wanted to cuddle, also not wanting to jostle his aching vessel by pulling him close. The water ghoul shuffled down a bit and glued himself to the other’s side, laying his head on Swiss’ chest.

“Can you warm me up a bit, too?” Rain asked, looking up at Swiss with his big, cerulean blue eyes. The multi ghoul nodded, leaning down to kiss the water ghoul as he kicked up his temperature. He smuggled a tiny bit of quintessence between the waves of infernal heat. He immediately felt a bit guilty for that, knowing Rain didn’t exactly agree to it, but he couldn’t not do it.

“I love you, princess,” Swiss muttered quietly into his hair, squeezing him tightly, but carefully. “Every damn day I wish I could just– take it all away from you, you have no idea–”

“Swiss,” Rain said. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, but–”

“Baby, you do blame yourself. You stink of it,” the water ghoul chuckled, poking Swiss’ belly under the comforters.

“Excuse me– I don’t stink!”

“Well, not all the time. Just when you're sick with worry for your… favorite water ghoul? That’s what you said or did I mishear?” Rain threw a leg over the multi ghoul’s thighs and laid himself out on top of him, his chin perched up on his sternum.

“Oh, it’s not like you have a lot of competition… but yeah,” Swiss laughed, “I guess you are. And I guess I may stink sometimes, but it’s the smell of love, Bambi.”

The water ghoul grinned and batted his eyelashes at him. “Sure, sure… I love you, too.”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #hypnone's disabled ghouls #rulti

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flowerandblood · 8 months

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The Impossible Choice (43)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, angst, smut, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She felt her heart pounding like crazy, her cheeks burning because of his confession. She couldn't believe what she had just heard.

I became fucking obsessed with you.

"I wondered if you were thinking of me or crying yourself to sleep at the realisation that you would become my wife. I fucked my hand all night thinking of you, of how you looked when I saw you for the first time. Wet, scared, pale, innocent. Mine." He whispered the last word low and menacing, and she drew in a loud breath, her fingers clenching tighter on his chest.

He thought of her.

He thought of her even before he knew her and after his decision.

She felt her insides clench around nothing.

She trembled when she felt his nose run over the top of her head, his hand gently taking strands of hair from her face.

"You were pulsing with life, and I was completely dead, full of nothing. My heart was like a cold, damp cellar with no windows or doors." He said quietly, thoughtfully, and she felt a tightening in her heart, her breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected him to ever open up to her so much, to ever let her look so deeply into his dark heart.

"− Aemond −" She whispered in a trembling voice, but he continued.

"I took you because I knew you were afraid of me. I took you because you couldn't and had to love me at the same time. I took you because I wanted to fucking devour you." He hissed, and she squealed loudly when she felt his teeth gripping tightly on the soft skin of her arm, his bite brutal and sure.

He let go of her and she grabbed the sore spot looking at him with shock and resentment, surprised at how wet she was, how involuntarily her hot walls throbbed around nothing. She saw a smile on his face full of amusement and satisfaction. He knew what she was thinking about.

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, and he slipped his hand into her hair. He pulled her suddenly, locking his lips to hers in an intense, greedy kiss, causing pain to her and to himself, violating their barely healed lips. He pulled away from her and looked at her for a moment with misty eye, stroking her chin with his thumb.

"So perfect for me." He hummed low and she flushed, lowering her gaze, swallowing quietly.

She felt his warm breath on her face again, his forehead pressed against hers, and after a moment their lips found each other again in a soft, sticky kiss.

They both flinched when suddenly someone entered their tent and they saw the figure of Criston looming over them, clearly embarrassed by the rather unusual and intimate scene he had just witnessed.

She wanted to get up, but her husband wouldn't let her, holding her in an iron grip and pressing her tighter against him, so she hid her face in his neck pretending she wasn't there.

She listened in silence to the brief exchange between Criston and her husband regarding the morning's council that was to take place between him and the arriving army.

Afterwards, Aemond had to send some letters to King's Landing, so he let her go at last, and she sat down in one of the chairs and pretended to read a book, actually escaping with her thoughts to somewhere else entirely.

Our father has illegitimate children.

Many.

She felt tears again at that thought, the sting of disappointment and embarrassment. She knew that various lords prided themselves on having a bunch of their bastard children to which they did not publicly admit, but she silently hoped that her father was different. That even if he sought physical fulfilment with random women, he at least took care not to leave them with a pregnant stomach.

Meanwhile, her half-brother or sister was in Harrenhal.

She felt like throwing up at the thought.

She wondered if she should talk to her father about it, confront him with her pain. But she thought that they were in the middle of a war and she couldn't distract him, make him focus more on what his daughter thought of him than what was happening on the battlefield.

The truth was that she herself did not have the strength for this confrontation. She felt tired and discouraged, the future seemed frightening and dark to her. She put her hand involuntarily on her womb and thought sadly that if, with God's help, this child could be born, it would be born in dreadful times.

She went to bed earlier than usual, turning her back on her husband, who was still working, once in a while one of the guards or commanders would come in to give him new informations. She did not listen to these conversations, immersed in her own thoughts.

She finally heard her husband rise from his chair with a loud creak of wood, followed by his quiet footsteps and the sound of fabric being untied. A moment later, his warm, naked body was right beside hers, his large hand on her womb exactly as it had been every night since he found out she was expecting his child.

The gesture filled her with tenderness and love for him.

She involuntarily placed her hand on his, running her fingers over his skin, feeling the lines of his veins under her fingertips. She heard him murmur with satisfaction at the gesture, his lips placing a soft, wet kiss on her neck.

She felt him lift himself slightly on his elbow, his free hand turning her so that she was lying next to him on her back. She pressed her lips together seeing his dark gaze, seeing what he wanted.

"I'm so tired… please." She whispered and he brushed her hair away from her cheek, looking at her with a calm look on his face.

"Will you let your husband kiss you between your thighs, sweet wife?" He asked quietly and she felt his question between her thighs, her insides, wet and swollen by his earlier words needed relieving. She pressed her lips together and nodded uncertainly after a moment.

She heard him hum contentedly positioning himself between her legs, his hands lifting the material of her nightgown upwards in a light, slow motion, exposing her hips to him. She felt her heart begin to pound like mad in anticipation as his warm breath enveloped her womanhood, his lips tentatively running over her sensitive skin.

She moaned softly, involuntarily spreading her legs wider in front of him, feeling the tip of his tongue tease her pearl with each kiss, running over her willfully, making her whole body quiver with desire. She pressed her lips together, swallowing quietly, knowing he would torment her, knowing he would not give her quick fulfillment.

"Your husband will take care of you, my sweetest." He whispered and she mewled, feeling his words deep inside her, her insides clenched around nothing demanding his further attention.

She slid her hand into his hair, stroking his head tenderly, her hips involuntarily pressed against his face looking for any source of friction.

Her breathing sped up and became more ragged as she felt his tongue begin to lazily circle around her clit, making her shudder with each stroke, a quiet, helpless moan escaping her lips.

She felt his face pressed against her womanhood, his hands clenched tightly on her thighs as his tongue tentatively slid inside her hot, thirsty core, the tip of his nose teasing her pearl.

"My sweet girl. So good to me." He whispered lowly, sliding his tongue into her again, even deeper, rubbing it against her front wall with a sticky click.

She tilted her head back, panting all over in front of him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes clenched in pleasure, her insides pulsing greedily around nothing. Her hips began to push against his face impatiently, wanting to feel him deeper.

"− please −" She mumbled helplessly, knowing what he wanted.

He loved it when she asked, loved it when he drove her to the brink of insanity, only to take pity on her at the end and watch with satisfaction as she fell apart in front of him.

She felt him smirk at her words, but his hands only clenched tighter on her skin blocking any of her movements, the tip of his tongue sliding into her and licking her painfully slowly.

"− not yet − a good husband knows what's best for his wife, doesn't he? − if he says not yet, then not yet −" He murmured calmly ceasing his caresses for a moment only to lick her back with a protracted, intense flick of his tongue, from which a quiet, helpless sob erupted from her lips, her whole womanhood pulsing, begging him for fulfilment.

Already both her hands, not one, were in his hair, pulling him close, her thighs trembling in his embrace from an arousal that was reaching its zenith. She felt her head humming, heat spilling over her lower abdomen.

A helpless moan ripped from the depths of her throat, her body arched back like a string when her husband finally took pity on her, his tongue inside her began to accelerate, rubbing and licking her upper wall with an intensity and precision that took her breath away.

He knew every sensitive spot intimately, and he knew what movement of his would make her experience wonderful pleasure.

"− just like that − look at you − just a little more and your husband will let you come, all right? − can you do that for me? −" He chuckled between his caresses and she swallowed her saliva with difficulty, hearing his soft, approving tone of voice from which her walls pulsed greedily around his tongue. With the rest of her strong willpower, she tried from between her moans to extract any response.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled out with difficulty, and he purred low with satisfaction, his tongue sliding in and out of her deeply with a loud, revolting click of her juices from which the tension in her body was unbearable. She felt that she was close, that a few more of his movements and she would experience fulfilment.

She moaned in surprise, clenching her eyes and tilting her head back as she felt his movements become faster and more intense, he was eating her as if he had been starving himself for the past weeks, she felt the sounds she was making from herself were on the verge of a scream.

"− my good wife is about to come for me, isn't she? − go on, come on my face, give your husband what he needs −" He exhaled, his finger began to intensely massage the spot around her clit and she parted her lips feeling she couldn't take any more.

"− oh gods − Aemond −" She cried out wearily, panting heavily, her thighs quivering in his hands while a powerful, deafening orgasm swept through her body like a storm, waves of heat and tickling surging through her again and again.

She heard him sigh in contentment at her obedience and the sight before him, licking everything that flowed out of her while purring, teasing her throbbing, swollen womanhood with the tip of his nose. She wanted to push him away from her, moaning quietly, all hypersensitive, but his hands only clamped tighter on her thighs.

"Sleep. Your husband is going to spend all night between his wife's thighs." He murmured lowly and she swallowed loudly, knowing he wasn't joking.

He never joked.

She pressed her lips together as she felt his tongue and lips again returned to the soft, subtle caresses from the beginning, the tip of his tongue almost painfully teasing her pearl with a gentle touch.

"Tomorrow morning you will have a council meeting with the commanders, beloved husband." She whispered softly, stroking his head, her thighs trembling before him still through what the previous orgasm had done to her. "You should rest."

She heard him murmur lowly, not caring too much about her words, continuing his treatments between her thighs. She just sighed, knowing there was no point in objecting and decided to let him do what he wanted with her, to his immense satisfaction.

After her third fulfilment, she felt his caresses become gentler, as if he was falling asleep himself. He awoke her from her restless slumber when his tongue again tore greedily between her folds, drawing a quiet, sleepy moan from her throat.

But then she felt him rise, his hand turning her so that she was lying on her stomach. She opened her eyes and rubbed them, unsure if she was dreaming or not, and drew in a quiet breath as she felt him push her hips against him.

Only a helpless moan escaped her throat when she felt his length suddenly fill her to the brim, hard and throbbing, demanding fulfilment.

"Sleep." She heard only his throaty, sleepy voice, his hands on either side of her head, his hips moving back and forth inside her in smooth, sure motions with the loud slap of his thighs against her buttocks.

Both of them involuntarily began to pant and moan, her insides hypersensitive from his treatments clenching against him in panic increasing his sensations.

"− fuck −" He hissed softly, speeding up his thrusts. She lifted and spread her knees higher allowing him to penetrate deeper. She heard him moan low feeling it, she placed her hands on his palms that held her hips and he intertwined their fingers.

"− you'll never escape from me − you know that, don't you? −" He exhaled darkly in a way that sent shivers down her spine, her lips parted involuntarily in a loud, surprised moan, his manhood pushing apart her fleshy, juice-sticky walls again and again, rubbing the hypersensitive spot inside her.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled with difficulty, and he chuckled lowly, amused by her state, sighing with pleasure, his thrusts slow, deep and precise, as if he was exploring how deep he could penetrate her body so as not to tear her apart at the same time.

"− good − now I'm going to tell you what's going to happen next −" He gasped, panting with her in turn, she felt their shared juices running down her thighs, the sounds of two wet and sticky bodies slapping against each other made her nipples harden, her walls clenching against him steadily, her eyes tightening.

"− I'm going to fill you to the brim with my seed, and then I'm going to do it again, and again −" He hissed out, his thrusts getting faster and more brutal, making her breathless. She pressed her lips together, swallowing loudly, feeling her insides pulsate greedily at his words. "− because I can − because I'm your husband − I'll have you as many times as I fucking want − am I wrong? −"

He asked, and his hands tightened warningly on her hips.

"− n-no −" She mewled, moaning loudly, giving herself over completely to the sheer animal pleasure of two bodies combined in a total mess of juices, grips and thrusts. She heard him sigh at her words, one of his hands clamped down on her hair, pressing her cheek against the bed sheets.

"− say it − say it, say it, say it −" He exhaled helplessly, his member pulsing hard inside her, she knew he was on the verge of fulfilment and she knew what he needed to hear.

Ever since she'd confessed it to him, he'd only wanted to hear the same three words over and over again.

"− I love you −" She cried out, parting her lips wide, aroused by her own words, by the feelings she felt for this dark and disturbing man, her husband who was obsessed with her, who would devour her whole if he could. "− I love you so much −"

She heard his low, helpless moan and then felt his warmth spill over her insides, his hand slipped between her thighs teasing her clit, bringing her to fulfilment a moment later.

He finally laid on top of her, crushing her with the weight of his body, placing his hand over hers and intertwining their fingers, panting heavily with her. She felt his nose against her ear, his hot breath enveloping her face.

"I…fuck." He whispered, swallowing loudly, and she felt her heart squeeze.

She knew what he was trying to say.

She stroked her hand over his arm that was embracing her and kissed his sweaty skin, which was answered by his quiet sigh.

"Don't force yourself to say it. I didn't confess it to you to make you say the same words, husband. You are showing me the enormity of your feelings in a way that any other woman in my position would dream of." She whispered tenderly and felt him freeze all over, his heart pounding hard in his chest pressed against her back.

"… did your father and brother… tell you this?" He asked uncertainly, and she felt a tightening in her heart at the thought that he was asking her this not just because he was her husband and he was ashamed that she hadn't heard it from him.

That perhaps he had never heard it from his own parents and siblings.

Admittedly, Alicent seemed to be an affectionate mother sparing no warm gestures, however, she rarely said everything she thought and lavished words. She swallowed quietly at the thought.

"… yes. Royce less often, rather when I was crying to comfort me. However, our father often told us that he loved us. He called us his beloved bunch. He always said: two hawks and four doves." She said, smiling under her breath at this memory.

She felt her husband shift slightly, not wanting to burden her with his weight for too long, and lay down behind her, drawing her close, hugging her back to his chest. He grunted quietly, running his hand over her shoulder.

"What did he mean?" He asked finally, and she swallowed quietly. This was the first time her husband had asked her with any depth of interest about her family and their relationship, and for some reason she felt joy at the thought.

"The four doves are my sisters. My mother used to call them that. Gentle and well-mannered, leading by example. She used to call me and Royce hawks because we kept disappearing from her sight and she couldn't keep up with us. She was furious with my brother for agreeing to take me into the forest with him on his expeditions. We pretended we were warriors fighting our father's battles." She said with a smile, and her husband hummed under his breath. She had the impression that he smiled too.

"What happened to your mother?" He asked uncertainly, squeezing her tighter as if he wanted to make sure he protected her from the pain the question might have caused her. She swallowed quietly and sighed at the memories that filled her head.

"Come here, both of you! Royce, how many times can I ask you?" Their mother asked, her long light hair tied back in a perfect, beautiful bun woven into braids, her gown with its buff sleeves rustling in the wind. She was pale because it was chilly and it had been raining since morning, and the hunt would continue for a few more hours so she additionally wore a sleeveless fur coat.

Both she and her brother ran up to her, a little sweaty from running, and she sighed at the sight of them. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw her sisters sitting at the wooden table, talking about something with each other.

They rarely told her about girly things recognising that she was too young and would not yet understand them. Their words made her uncomfortable, so she would go back to Royce because he always wanted to play with her.

"We were just looking for rabbits, Mother." Said Royce, as if that was the perfect explanation of why they looked the way they did. Their mother sighed heavily, clenching her eyes.

"I don't have the strength for you anymore. Come, at least eat something, you're soaked." She said, clasping them with her arm, and they obediently followed her into their tent. Their mother ordered the maid to bring platters of hot soup for her two children, and she herself sat down opposite them, cupping her forehead.

"Are you all right, Mummy?" She asked quietly, wiggling her legs under the table, which did not reach the ground.

"Yes. I'm just tired. Your father promised me we'd return to Storm's End later today." She said with a little resentment, clearly already knowing that the hunt had been extended and her husband would not keep his promised word.

She and Royce ate and watched as their mother slowly grew weaker and fainter. As she collapsed to the ground and they ran to her they only felt how hot she was. Royce ran out into the rain and called the guards. They mounted off to look for their father.

When Borros entered the tent their mother was already being attended to by a medic. Before the children were ordered to leave she saw only over her shoulder her father kneeling by her mother, saying something to her in a frightened tone, his hand on her forehead. She saw his lips form the words.

"What happened?"

The next day they were allowed to visit their mother in the morning, but she was no longer conscious. She had never seen such a pale and grey person before, her skin showing droplets of sweat. Their father sat beside her in his chemise and trousers stroking his jaw, his hands trembling as he looked at her.

"I did this to her." He said to his younger brother, who stood over him and put a hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. "I promised her we'd be back sooner."

Cassandra sobbed loudly over her mother's bed. She was the only one who had inherited her beautiful fair hair, her talent for playing the harp. What her father did not understand her mother admired and appreciated, making her daughter feel beautiful and valuable.

Despite her despair, everyone believed that she would still wake up, at least for a while.

However, this did not happen.

"She caught a cold on one of our hunting trips and fell ill. My father never forgave himself, because he had promised her that they would come back sooner. Everything was prolonged while we waited in the camp, it was cold and raining all around. She got a fever, fell asleep and didn't wake up again." She said quietly, feeling a tightness in her throat at the memory, warm tears filled her eyes but she did not let them flow out with the remnants of her strong will.

Her husband swallowed quietly, stroking her arm up and down steadily, thoughtfully, and for a moment they lay in silence.

"Were you close with each other?" He asked at last, and she pressed her lips together. She sighed quietly.

"She couldn't understand me like my father did. I think now that I'm older, I understand her better and maybe now we would…" She said, but was unable to finish, her voice trapped in her throat. She pressed her lips together, a single tear running down her cheek onto the bedding under her head.

When she was a child, her mother had seemed to her a dull, everything-forbidding woman who was incapable of having fun and enjoying life. Now that she was married herself she understood that, with her father's impulsive nature, she had to be considerate and responsible, ensuring the safety of the whole family.

She had not known as a child how complicated the role of wife and mother was, how much one had to manoeuvre in the world of men to avoid being crushed. Now she would have been able to appreciate her, would have loved to talk to her about her youth and her thoughts, asked her for advice.

But her mother was not there.

Her husband embraced her more tightly, pulling her out of her reverie, his lips placing gentle kisses on her neck, her jaw, her cheek.

"She surely was a wonderful woman." He assured her softly, and she nodded, swallowing loudly, wiping the moisture from her cheek with her free hand. She felt his nose sink into her hair.

"Where is she buried?" He asked quietly, and she swallowed loudly, looking involuntarily ahead, thoughtful.

"In the crypts in Storm's End." She whispered, seeing before her eyes a large stone tomb with a beautiful statue of a woman, but which did not even partially convey the uniqueness of her beauty when she was alive. Her husband hummed at her words.

"When the war is over, I would like to pay tribute to her in the crypts of your ancestors. To the woman who brought my beloved wife into this world."

_____

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

Text

Mutually Invested | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @sunsetbeachesandwriting … and @peakyswritings — who asked for the same prompt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy finds out something he did not know about (Y/N) (Y/L/N) after it comes down to a life or death situation. Both realize that sometimes it's best to choose your investments wisely.

Warnings: language, smoking, allusions to/implications of sexual situations, use of a derogatory word, mention of weapons

Word Count: 3557

A/N: I know I say it almost every time, but this was such a fun one to plot out and write. I’m pretty proud of what I did with this storyline…I hope you’ll find it interesting and that it makes sense to you. As always…the italicized lines are from the show. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Smoke?" Tommy asked as he sat up slightly in the bed, clearing his throat as he reached over to the side table so that he could grab his pack of cigarettes.

"Yes, please," (Y/N) responded as she moved over to his side, draping her right arm over his bare chest as he went about lighting the first cigarette. She laid in this position until he handed her the cigarette he'd lit for her, making sure to sit up as she took it between her fingers. That sat in silence as they smoked, a few moments passing before she spoke up again: "are you all squared away for tomorrow?"

"I am," Tommy's answer was definitive and spoken with confidence.

"All of the actors are in place and understand what they need to do?" she asked another question, turning her head to look at him after she finished speaking.

"Yes," he gave another short answer.

"Man of few words tonight, aren't you?" she called him out on his curt responses, a grin forming on her face as she reached over him to stamp out the cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the bedside table. She held her grin as she slid down in the bed so that she could rest her chin against his pectoral and still be able to look up at him. Tommy only hummed as he looked down at her, the slightest of smiles playing on his lips.

Silence fell in the room again after (Y/N) was finished speaking. She focused her attention on the skin of his chest then, running her hand over top of it absentmindedly as she enjoyed the warmth radiating off of his body.

Tommy waited until he finished his cigarette to speak again: "you're still planning on coming with me, right?" he asked her, his question making her look up at him again as the movements of her hands halted at the sound of his voice.

"Of course I am," she answered him, a slight smile present, "I wouldn't miss it for anything," she assured him as she moved up his body again so that her face would be closer to his. "I'll take any chance I get to dress up and be on Tommy Shelby's arm," she told him then, her voice now lower than it was before.

His eyes flitted down to her lips, watching her speak before they found her gaze again. He pressed his lips together then, and (Y/N) was able to feel his 'signature Tommy Shelby pout' against her own lips. "Good," he husked before his lips matched hers in a haste.

Sure, there was a lot riding on the events that would occur at the Epsom derby tomorrow. But tonight, in this moment, those events were the furthest thing from Tommy's mind.

"Shouldn't we...be making sure that...everything is squared away for tomorrow?" (Y/N) asked, getting her words out in between the kisses he was giving her as he rolled them so that he was now leaning over top of her.

"Let that be tomorrow's problem," he mumbled against the skin of her neck before he began leaving kisses there. Kisses that made (Y/N)'s jaw fall slack and her mind reel. Maybe they'd just have to be tomorrow's problems.

——

(Y/N) looked around the busy hall with frantic eyes, trying to pick the Birmingham gangster that she'd arrived with out of the crowds. He told her he'd meet her at the doors to the dining room at a time that had passed at least fifteen minutes ago. Her worries were starting to build by the second. She thought she heard gunshots ring out, but she couldn't be too sure, and now she feared that maybe his plan hadn't gone how they'd both hoped.

A familiar figure that was walking towards her a few minutes later made her release the breath she'd been holding. "What held you up? You're late," she said in a hushed voice once he stopped in front of her, not wanting to air their business out to the entire room.

Tommy took a steadying breath before he spoke, trying to make it seem like he hadn't just rushed his way up to her. "It's nothing. Everything went according to plan," he assured her with a slight nod of his head, his hands sliding into his pockets then.

"You're bleeding, Tommy," she pointed out once she noticed the streak of red that was just off of his right browline.

"I'm fine," he brushed her off, pulling his peaked cap out of his jacket's pocket so that he could put it on, effectively covering the blood in doing so. "Let's go in, yeah?" he then suggested, nodding his head to the doors of the dining area.

"Ok," (Y/N) nodded, doing what he said and dropping the question about his apparent injury as she fell in by his side. Tommy glanced over at her and slipped his hand around her waist, making sure to pull her closer to him as he led her inside the banquet hall-like room.

"We'll sit here," he said, nodding to one of the waiters, who then followed the couple to the open table. The man then suggested some drinks, but Tommy shooed him away, taking out his packet of cigarettes instead. He offered one to (Y/N), who accepted, and made sure to light hers before he lit his own.

He then kept his head down and took a few more steadying breaths so that he could come off as composed in the conversation that was about to happen. (Y/N) kept her eyes focused on the door that the man they'd be meeting with would surely come through in any second. They only had to wait a few moments before that happened.

"Mr. Sabini!" Tommy called when he noticed the Italian man and the man he often traveled with enter the room, "you're late. Have a seat," his words were bordering on cocky, like he knew he already had the upper hand in the conversation simply because he'd arrived first. "What happened to your nose?" he then questioned the man with Sabini as the two men sat down across from him and (Y/N).

"You ought to have that brother of yours put down," the man stated, scorn in his voice.

"I tried that, he bit the vet," Tommy remarked dryly, shaking his head in a way that showed he was dismissing the other man's statement.

"Why have you brought her with you?" Sabini questioned, eyeing up (Y/N) as he spoke.

"She's got an important role in the business I'm carrying out with you," Tommy answered, his eyes still zeroed in on the man sitting across from him.

"You've decided to make her part of your deal?" Sabini suggested a reason, his eyebrows raised as a look of intrigue formed on his face. (Y/N) felt her throat dry up at the mention of this possibility, but she knew Tommy wouldn't let it fly.

"No," Tommy shook his head, "I protect my investments," he said to the other man, his voice flat to show that he wasn't interested in the route that Sabini was trying to take.

Sabini laughed at Tommy's statement, his smirk still present. "And what could you have invested in this fuckin' whore, hmm?" he questioned in a snide tone. He laughed again, more to himself this time, before continuing, "well, aside from what every other man she's been with has." The dig made both Tommy and (Y/N)'s blood start to boil as Sabini's grin widened.

Tommy took hold of (Y/N)'s hand that was slowly bringing her dress up her leg so that she could have access to the blade that was strapped to her thigh. He knew what she was itching to do, and although he wanted to see what would happen, he couldn't let her. Sabini would get what was coming for him in due time. They needed to remember the long game.

"How'd you pay out today, Sabini, eh?" Tommy deflected the conversation, hoping to shift the tides again to what he'd planned on discussing. He kept his hand clamped around (Y/N)'s under the table, hoping she'd get the message to stand down.

"I've told the coppers about you...they'll come to get you, and her, before the King comes up here," Sabini deflected Tommy's statement, showing that he wasn't going to get sucked into his game.

"From what I saw, the police are a bit busy right now," Tommy countered, bringing the cigarette he was smoking up to his lips to take a drag. Sabini then leaned over to his counterpart, mumbling something about the coppers that he'd apparently talked to being late. (Y/N) couldn't quite make the comment out, but Tommy heard him loud and clear, "like I told you, they're a bit busy," he broke into the other men's conversation, leaning over to tap some of the cigarette's ash off into the tray, "same as my boys," he added cooly as he sat back again.

"What the fuck does that mean?" the other man questioned.

"What does that mean?" Tommy repeated the statement, sucking in a breath before continuing, "my boys are on the track, and they're having a little bonfire...gaming licenses, you know," a smirk formed on his face, and (Y/N) had to contain hers as she watched realization flood Sabini's features.

"Fuck," the Italian hissed, hanging his head.

Tommy continued to let him have it, "you place too much reliance on the police for your security, Mr. Sabini. That was a mistake," he called out the other man's faults, his voice low but taunting. Sabini stood up then, his hand going for the holster that was under his jacket. "No, no," Tommy noticed the move right away, "think about who you are...think about where you are. If you pull a weapon, you are the king's assassin. Now, sit down. Stay calm," he talked him through what would happen if he brandished a weapon at that moment.

The smirk started to break through on (Y/N)'s face as she heard what Tommy had to say. She knew something that no one else in this room did, and the fact that Tommy was throwing that title onto others, when he very much was the King's assassin, was amusing to her.

Silence hung in the air until Sabini slowly sat down in his seat again. "Good," Tommy gave false praise, tapping his cigarette again before he continued to let the other man have it, "now your next mistake, Mr. Sabini, was breaking your promise with Alfie Solomons..." he paused, watching closely for how the man sitting across from him would react to his statement, "you promised Alfie that his bookies could come to Epsom. He was very hurt when you said no. He was very hurt. That's why me and Alfie are back in business," he ended this statement with another grin, finally letting go of (Y/N)'s hand so that he could hold both of his hands out to the sides in a careless gesture.

Sabini just nodded as this information sank into his brain. (Y/N) found that to be the perfect time to inform him of what else would be happening. "It's also why Mr. Solomons and I have entered a deal...to take control of all of the London clubs you own," she told him, gaining his attention. She watched his jaw fall slightly slack, and the sight of that made her grin grow. "I look forward to telling you what to do, Mr. Sabini, as that is where you will be left once we are finished with you," she said to him, rubbing salt in the wound as she felt the confidence exuding out of her.

Once again, Sabini and his man said nothing. Instead he dropped his gaze and stood from the chair. He, slowly, turned away from the table and stood for a moment before he grabbed a bottle of wine and shattered it. Tommy was quick to move (Y/N) behind him at the sound, and he managed to push the table out of the way as Sabini turned to face him again, the new weapon present in his hand. Three officers quickly entered the room at the sound of the commotion, making their way straight over to where it all happened.

"It's alright, it's alright, officers," he started, holding his hands out in front of him as he spoke, "he's just a bad loser," he then added a jab as he motioned towards the man who had lost his cool moments ago.

The coppers didn't care to hear Tommy's speech, and as soon as he finished speaking, they went and grabbed him. (Y/N) took a few steps back and watched, frozen in her spot as he tried to fight against their grip. What was there that she could do?...Nothing. The three men proved themselves more powerful than Tommy, and quickly managed to be able to drag him to the door they entered through. (Y/N) didn't stick around to see what happened next. She turned and started walking to the opposite door as Sabini started yelling about Tommy losing.

——

Tommy felt himself hit the dirt, and for a split second he thought he was dead, but then he opened his eyes and saw one of the three men who'd brought him to this undisclosed location standing over him with his revolver still brandished. He held his hands up as he blinked a few times, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

"At some point in the near future, Mr. Churchill will want to speak to you in person, Mr. Shelby," the man informed him as he continued blinking and panting. How had he managed to live through this? "He has a job for you. We will be in touch," he continued before telling Tommy to get out of the grave and be on his way.

Tommy said nothing, instead clamboring out of the grave at the unnamed man's orders, still slightly shocked by what was happening. He then began walking across the field, biting on his cheek to contain the tears that were threatening to fall. He didn't even know why he was on the verge of crying, but he couldn't stop his eyes from stinging. He tripped in one of the field's rows several steps away from where he started, and the fall made the levee break. He yelled out, shouting as loud as he could as he grabbed the soil in his hands. But he knew he needed to get up; to get up and keep moving forward. So he did just that.

A vehicle came into view after he'd been walking across the field for some time. It sat at the edge of it, on the road that led out of this unknown place. As he neared it, he was able to see a familiar figure leaning up against the front of the car.

"Smoke?" (Y/N) asked as Tommy came within several steps of her. She took the cigarette from between her lips and held it out to him. Wordlessly, Tommy accepted the cigarette, bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag as he looked back at the field he'd just traveled across.

"Strange seeing you here," he spoke after taking a few drags. His nerves were finally settled enough that he was able to form thoughts and complete sentences again.

"Had to make sure my man followed through with the plan," she answered, motioning her hand to the field.

"Your man?" Tommy quirked an eyebrow, another wave of confusion promptly washing over him.

"Yes," (Y/N) nodded, crossing her arms over her chest, "the moment I found out that Campbell had plans to deal with you once you'd done his bidding, I knew I had to get a man in on what he'd been scheming," she explained to him, pursing her lips as she looked to the field again, "pity those two had to lose their life over it...'m sure they were good men," she added in a remorseless tone, making it evident that she didn't quite care about the two Ulster Volunteers that had been sent out on this mission.

"So this was the plan all along?" he asked another question, still trying to wrap his head around it.

"Yeah," she nodded definitively.

Tommy dropped his gaze to the ground upon hearing her response. He took a drag from the cigarette before looking up; squinting as he gazed out at the field once more. "Shame..." he trailed off, shaking his head the slightest bit, "thought I was going to be killed."

"No," (Y/N) was quick with a reply, and it made him look in her direction, "I protect my investments," she told him, reusing the statement that he'd said in regards to her earlier. Tommy exhaled a breath of a laugh as he heard her say it, and she couldn't stop the smirk from tugging her lips upwards. They looked at each other for a few beats before she pushed herself off of the car's hood. "Get in the car, Tommy," she said to him as she moved to one of the rear doors. She opened it and entered, leaving it open for Tommy to follow. He did seconds later.

—

Nothing was said during the car ride. The driver brought them directly to the home that his sister, Ada, resided in, which was also where he stayed during his visits to London...when he wasn't at (Y/N)'s that is. Tommy exited the car and wasn't surprised when (Y/N) slid out behind him.

He walked up to the door but stopped before opening it. "You work for Churchill?" he asked her the question that had been burning in his brain since they'd gotten into the car.

"I do," her answer was simple and to the point, and she kept her eyes fixed on Tommy's as she said it. "He sees something in you, Tommy. That's why he's keeping you around," she added, her words making him let out a wry laugh.

He thought about getting into his thoughts about Churchill for a moment before deciding against it. There were more pressing matters to talk about. "So that deal with Alfie...taking Sabini's clubs from him, that was all a farce?" he couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows as he asked her this. For once he was having trouble making sense of the situation at hand.

"Not all of it, no," she shook her head before continuing, "Sabini's been on the radar. Gaining control of his clubs will no doubt aid us through providing a better understanding of how he operates."

Tommy nodded, understanding the angle she took. "And this?" he asked then, motioning between the two of them.

"This was solely for my personal gain," she told him, a grin forming on her lips as she spoke. "I had no intentions in the beginning, but what can I say...? I became invested in more ways than one," she admitted without an ounce of shame present in her voice.

Tommy parted his lips as he took in her statements, breaking their eye contact as he tried to think of what he'd say next. The slightest of grins formed on his face before he spoke again: "and how am I to know that what you're saying is true?" His question had a tone present in it that was indecipherable to (Y/N). She couldn't lie that his words, and how he said them, ignited something inside of her.

She took one step closer to him before answering. "I could tell you; go on about how I got my job with the government, or..." she trailed off, her grin growing as she took one more step so that she was now standing toe to toe with him, "I could show you; do what I need to to make sure you know that I'm truly on your side and did what I had to today in order to reflect the best interest of us both," this part of her response was uttered in a lower voice, one that Tommy had previously only associated with things that happened behind closed doors with her.

"Best interest of us both, eh?" he remarked, a grin ghosting on his lips as his eyes flitted down to hers.

"I'd like to think that it would be...since we're mutually invested in each other," she spoke through her grin before glancing down at his attire, "maybe we should get you changed, Mr. Shelby?" she suggested, "wouldn't want you to dirty your sister's home," she added a quip, her eyebrows raised as her eyes lit up with that suggestive glint that was so familiar to him.

"I don't think my attire matters for what you've in mind, but I appreciate the emphasis on the subject," he told her, their faces impossibly close to each other. He held his position as she held her gaze on him, and he waited a moment or two longer before breaking apart for just enough time so that he could manage to unlock the door and usher her inside.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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depressedhatakekakashi · 9 months

Text

Boop!

Words: 1,165

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi X Reader

For: @skykashi @lemony-snickers @wind-becomes-lightning and whoever else would enjoy Kakashi/Reader (and everyone who voted on the poll of course)

You’re not sure why you decide to do it. There’s no logic or reason behind the action, only a simple wish. A desire that cannot be contained. As soon as he steps into your line of sight you’re overwhelmed with the urge to storm up to him and-

Boop.

Kakashi blinks, his eyes flickering between the finger you’ve just pressed against his nose and your face. There’s a mixture of emotions on display for someone who knows where to look for them. Confusion, annoyance, panic. It all swirls together into one giant emotion that you can’t quite read, but it’s there clear as day in the lone visible eye that he’s staring at you with.

“What-“

“I don’t know,” you admit with a shrug of your shoulders, unsure of how you’ll explain the intense desire that had swept over you causing this whole scenario. “I just…Thought it would be fun?”

“Fun?” his eyes narrow into a sharp, dangerous look. An expression you’ve seen on his face before, though it was usually directed towards enemy shinobi rather than his friends. “You thought it would be fun to sneak up on a Jonin and assault him?”

His accusation strikes like a kunai straight through the heart.

“Assault?” you gasp, retracting the hand you’d used to strike and placing it over your chest. “You would call that assault? I show you love and you choose to view it as an attack?”

“You poked me.”

“I booped you,” you clarify, determined to make him understand that there was a difference between the two words. “Sort of like what you do to the hounds. You know when you-“Reaching out once more you gently bop your finger against the tip of his nose and barely contain a laugh when he responds by swatting your hand away from him. “You do it to Shiba and Bull all the time. They love it!”

“They are dogs,” he reminds you as if that were enough to explain why he could get away with the action you were now getting into trouble for. “My dogs. If I ‘Boop’ them then that is fine.”

Annoyance flares up in your mind and before you know it you’re straightening yourself up and facing down Konoha’s top shinobi with a steely glare. “and what am I?” you ask, a little afraid of what answer he might give you. “Am I not your friend? You’re confident? Do I not have Booping rights’?”

It sounded more ridiculous out loud, but the words had already left your mouth so there was no turning back now. All you could do was stand there staring at Kakashi patiently waiting for his answer. The explanation he would provide for why exactly you weren’t allowed to partake in such a sacred Hatake ritual.

“Well…” cupping a hand under his chin he tilted his head back so that he was staring down at you from the bottom of his eyes, as if he was a giant compared to you rather than a man who happened to have exactly one inch of height on you. “You’re one of my precious people.”

One of my Precious People.

Annoyance quickly melted away, a warmth blossoming in your chest as he repeat the words in your mind once, twice, and a third time for good measure. You almost get lost in the feeling of being cherished when a realization hits you.

Stamping down on those warm feelings that had begun to overwhelm you, you glare back at him. “If I’m one of your precious people surely that means I have booping rights?” It doesn’t sound any better the second time you say it.

“Nope,” seeing him reaching out toward you, you brace for impact. A tap of his finger, gentle but firm, right against the tip of your nose. Your nerves tingle at the sensation and you can’t help but scrunch up your nose, just as he had done when you first appeared in front of him and did the same thing to you. “It means that I have booping rights.”

The words sounded terrible coming from your mouth but hearing him saying them is one of the worst experiences in your life. That cool attitude of his does nothing to dull even a fraction of the dorkyness of that word.

“That’s not-“ another strike, this time a bit firmer and placed a little higher on your nose. You take a step back with this assault, your bottom lip jutting out as you glare at him.

“Adorable,” he chuckles, wounding your pride beyond repair with one simple word and laughing when your shoulders drop, all of the energy and pride leaving your body in an instant. “Anyways. I have places to be, and people to see. You know the deal,” that you unfortunately did. Kakashi was always working even when it would have been better for him to take a step back and breath. You’d thought maybe today you’d get a few precious minutes with him before he ran off to do something else again, but it turns out you were wrong.

“Right,” waving a hand in front of your face you try to ignore the disappointment that always seems to follow his dismissal of you. “Go, save the village. Be a hero. I’ll just be here waiting for something interesting to happen.”

He doesn’t leave, though. Not right away.

Instead, he takes a step closer to you. Close enough that his face is mere inches away from yours. If he wasn’t wearing the mask you’re certain that you’d feel his breath on your face.

“When I get back,” he began, raising a hand and gently tapping his finger against your nose just as he had done twice before. This time you don’t recoil, but instead you lean into it. Savor the small touch of his skin against yours. “Then we can go out for lunch, hmmm?”

“Lunch,” you agree without pause, mentally rolling your eyes at your own eagerness to accept such a small offer. “Sounds perfect,” with that said, Kakashi takes a step back and begins to wave. Before he can disappear, though, you reach out and grab a fist full of that bulky Jonin uniform of his and pull him in close.

The mask feels rough against your lips but you don’t care. All that matters is the way Kakashi seems to melt into the kiss. How his hands come up to rest on your hips, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss.

When you pull apart you can’t help but look into his eyes, and that’s where you see it.

Love. A deep, profound emotion that you know he tries to protect himself from. An emotion directed at you and only you in this instant.

“Be safe,” you whisper, taking this moment to lift your right hand and gently tap your finger against his nose. His eyes narrow into a glare, but he doesn’t pull away. “We’re getting Ichiraku when you get back.”

#Hatake Kakashi #Hatake Kakashi X Reader #Hatake Kakashi X GnReader #Kakashi X Reader #Kakashi X GnReader #Kakashi/reader #Kakashi/GnReader #Hatake Kakashi/Reader #Hatake Kakashi/GnReader

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naughtyneganjdm · 4 months

Text

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 8

Summary: Negan finally opens up to Beau about his relationship with Y/N, but something happens that draws a negative reaction from Beau towards his father.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Beau, Erin, Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/133049320

Warnings: Swearing, angst, etc.

Notes: I thought I would get this done before Christmas, but life got in the way. I will try to finish it as soon as possible, but hopefully you still enjoy the story. Thanks for reading it.

“Hey dad, do you know where Y/N is?” Beau made it up the stairs to the attic hearing two voices and he stopped when he saw that Y/N and Negan were sitting on Negan’s bed together cuddled up. Negan’s arm was wrapped around her shoulders with his chin resting over her head. When Negan saw that it was Beau, he pulled his glasses that he was wearing from his face and gave him a smile. Stepping into the room, Beau cleared his throat and headed over to one of the chairs to sit down. Negan was in a pair of sweatpants and a black tank top with his hair messy and Y/N was in her relaxed clothes too. “What are you two doing?”

“Finishing something for work,” Negan pointed toward the laptop, motioning Beau to come over by them. “We’re trying to pick the color for something. And we’re stuck between two. We can’t choose. What do you think kiddo?”

“Okay?” Beau’s eyebrow arched when Negan put his glasses back over his face to stare out at the screen. Sitting in beside them, Beau looked between the two before pointing at the one that he liked. “I like the colors in that one better. It brings out what you want the focus to be.”

“Told you,” Negan’s eyebrows bounced up, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. A moment later she smacked at the center of his chest and a deep rumble of laughter fell from his throat. “What? I know my shit. That’s all I’m saying. And so does he. He’s been giving me his opinion his whole life. He knows what to look for.”

“Thank you, Beau,” Y/N gave him a big smile before doing something on the laptop. Negan gave his attention back to his son while he stroked his fingers over the back of Y/N’s neck.

“Maggie and Glenn are helping Hershel with the animals today. We had to finish this for work and then afterwards we are doing the sugar cookies,” Negan informed his son who seemed surprised that Y/N and him were so comfortable with one another. “After breakfast of course. Where is your sister?”

“She’s still sleeping,” Beau explained with a shake of his head knowing that he shouldn’t be questioning things right now. Especially since both Y/N and Negan looked happy after everything that happened last night which was surprising in itself.

“Did you need something kiddo?” Y/N wondered, looking to Beau after she closed the laptop up and got comfortable again beside Negan. “Why were you looking for me?”

“Well, I was worried about you. We didn’t talk after I went to bed,” Beau declared with a frown, turning toward her on the bed.

“I’m okay,” she whispered with a weak smile and Negan pressed a kiss over her temple.

“Really?” Beau inquired, leaning forward on the bed trying to read her expression.

“I will be,” she held her hand out to Beau and he accepted it, giving it a tight squeeze. “Your dad told me what you said yesterday when I ran off. I’m sorry you had to do that Beau. I really should have stayed quiet in public. I overreacted.”

“No. No you didn’t,” Beau assured her with a frown, hating to hear that from her. “I would do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t care if they hate me now or look down on me for feeling the way I do. I don’t want acceptance from people like that. I want acceptance from people like you. People who understand. People who see beyond the cover.”

“We need to talk,” Negan cleared his throat, unhooking his arm from Y/N’s shoulder. Getting up from the bed, Negan made sure that the door was closed before heading back to the bed to sit on it with both Beau and Y/N. “Do you promise to keep a secret?”

“Dad?” Beau frowned, his eyes gazing over his father with amusement. “What do you think?”

“I just…I think the two of us need to talk to you,” Negan suggested with a long sigh, getting comfortable between Y/N and Beau. “I think you know that the two of us are…”

“Intimate?” Beau finished for his father with a shrug of his shoulders, his head shaking like he didn’t give a shit. Negan nodded his head and Beau chuckled. “Yeah, no shit dad.”

“And you’re okay with it?” Y/N spoke up, getting Beau’s hazel eyes to break from his father to stare out at her. “I know you like Maggie.”

“I do like Maggie. I love Maggie in some…sense,” Beau commented on how he felt about his father’s girlfriend. “But that spark I talked about? I see it between the two of you. It’s the way you two look at one another. I never saw it between Maggie and dad. I don’t see it with you and Glenn either. I want my dad to find happiness. I want my dad to have what he had when he was with my mom. I see it when he’s with you.”

“We’re waiting until the day after Christmas to tell everyone,” Negan informed his son, his eyebrows furrowing and his expression becoming serious. “Don’t let your sister know because we know that Erin is…”

“A big mouth?” Beau interrupted his father once more causing Negan to laugh and nod his head. “Why wait until then? I understand you two really like each other, but why I don’t understand is why hide it? If you feel the way you do, then just be you.”

“Because what we are doing is wrong,” Y/N claimed, her head tipping from side to side. “I love your dad, but we both are dating someone. We’re cheating. And I’m going to be honest with you Beau, that’s not really a good thing to do when you are in a serious relationship with someone. I should have broken up with Glenn and the same with Maggie with your dad.”

“Yes, I understand that, but hiding it makes things worse, doesn’t it?” Beau looked between them noticing that Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“A few days?” Negan was honest hearing Beau laugh and Negan shrugged.

“Christmas party?” Beau wondered drawing Y/N’s color to drain from her face. When she looked to Negan contemplating how he knew, Negan simply threw his hand up.

“I told you he was perceptive as shit,” Negan reminded her, leaning back against the wall that the bed was pressed up against. “You can’t hide anything from him.”

“You were happy. I told you something good had to have happened at work,” Beau recalled what he had said to his father that night. “I’m a teenager. I’m not stupid. And you two don’t do a very good job at hiding it. You’re going to get caught.”

“Valid,” Negan huffed, his head dropping back hearing his son let out a long exhale. “So you do or do not approve?”

“Of your relationship? Of course I approve,” Beau threw his hands up in the air, his hazel eyes frustrated when he stood up from the bed. Placing his hands on his hips, he stood before the two of them and his dimples sank in. “It’s the lying that I don’t approve of. Why not just break things off with Maggie and Glenn before coming here?”

“Because I wanted you to have a good Christmas,” Negan answered his son, stammering through his words. “We’ve all been so sad over the last two years, I thought maybe with Maggie’s family…I don’t know.”

“Your happiness is worth more to me than having a good Christmas,” Beau reasoned with his father, his face twisting with confusion. It made Negan’s eyes fill with love and adoration for his son.

“I love you,” Negan spoke up, a long sigh escaping his throat. “Sometimes you feel more like my father, than my son, but I fucking love you.”

“He reminds me so much of you,” Y/N noted from where she was seated beside Negan.

“He’s so much more mature than I am,” Negan tipped his head to the side to give her his attention while Beau stood before them, his eyebrows arching up. “He’s got a lot of his mom in him too. Even the way he’s standing right now is just like her.”

“I’m right here you know,” Beau huffed, his young features scrunching up and Negan laughed at the way he was talking. “Just tell these people to fuck off. Say, I don’t give a shit what you think and let’s grab Erin. Get the hell out of here. You will be a whole lot happier with us than you will be surrounded by these people.”

“I said the same thing last night,” Negan informed his son, giving his attention to Y/N while they both looked her over. Gazing between the both of them had her laughing because it looked like a mirrored image just with an older Negan and a younger one. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing at the thing. I’m laughing at how much the two of you look alike. Same expression, same everything,” she explained, waving her finger between the both of them. Beau looked at Negan and huffed, trying to change his positioning. “I made a promise to you Beau,” she stated and Beau immediately shook his head. “I know it sounds stupid, but we had an agreement. I want to finish the list we came up with. And even though my father is awful, I want to try to reconcile with the rest of my family. I still love them.”

“You should have led with that,” Beau frowned lowering down onto the edge of the bed, slouching forward. “I don’t think you and Maggie are going to be okay after this Y/N. I don’t want you to get your hopes up with things, but with things being the way they are between you and dad, I think you need to prepare yourself.”

“I assumed that,” she agreed with Beau, hating that it was a strong possibility for that. “The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but it happened before I even knew that Maggie was dating your father. I knew he had a girlfriend, but…”

“How the fuck did that happen?” Beau blurted out looking to Negan who made a very dramatic response after the question. “That’s like impossible to do.”

“You’re fucking telling me kiddo,” Negan snorted, his head shaking in amusement. “I just about shit my pants when I saw her with Maggie when we got here.”

“Everything make sense now,” Beau thought back on his father’s response to seeing Y/N arriving at the farm. There was silence between all of them, with Beau’s features deep in thought before he finally spoke up again. “If you two are trying to hide this whole thing until the day after Christmas, here are a few tips. I just came up here and you didn’t know it was me. You were cuddling and looked like a married couple.”

“Touché,” Negan agreed with his son, adjusting his glasses over his face while he cuddled in closer to Y/N who rolled her eyes since Negan was doing the opposite of what Beau just told him to do. “What?”

“You have to stop with all the touching. I knew immediately,” Beau educated them on what they could do to help themselves stay hidden. “I’m obviously okay with this, I just want to avoid drama until the day we leave.”

“His permission is a big thing you know. He never approved of Maggie,” Negan piped in his hand hooking with Y/N’s while he got more comfortable on the bed with her. “And he really liked you before he knew that we were a thing. So this is good. This is really good.”

“So how serious is this?” Beau looked to Y/N drawing her to become nervous now that his son was questioning her. “Is this I’m going to only date you a few months serious or is this I want to marry you serious.”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with her serious,” Negan answered instead and it made Beau laugh. He nodded and held his hand out toward Y/N. “What?”

“I understand. I just wanted to ask her. As your son, I’d like to hear a few things from her point of view,” Beau stated with a tiny laugh and it made Y/N smile at his reaction to it. “I can see that you are drunk on love or whatever people your age would say.”

“I haven’t felt like this before Beau,” she spoke up, getting Beau’s attention returned to her. Even that comment had Negan glancing over at her. “I love your dad. It’s wrong to love him considering the situations, but I’ve never felt for anyone like I feel for him. I want to be with him every second of every day. I was fine and then the night of the Christmas party it was like I got shot with twenty-seven arrows from cupid.”

“Twenty-seven?” Negan repeated the number, his smile expanding out over his handsome features. His nose wrinkled, a laugh falling from his throat when his eyes fell to her lips. “That’s highly specific.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” she pushed into his chest hearing his laughter surround her, but she loved it.

“This is what I mean with the spark,” Beau breathed out, pushing his hands into his pockets letting out a long sigh. “So you love my dad?”

“I do,” she answered feeling Negan cuddling his head in against her shoulder while they stared out at Beau. “Very much. With all my heart.”

“And you would be accepting of both Erin and me?” Beau confirmed with her watching her expression soften and she immediately nodded. “Because we love him very much and as much as you want to be around him, we want that too.”

“Of course Beau. You’re part of him. And you both are so sweet,” she thought back to the night before when they both crawled up onto the bench with her. “You and your sister showed me so much love yesterday and I don’t even know if I deserved it to be honest with you. I wouldn’t want to replace your mother. Ever. Because no one would ever do that for you. And I would never want to take your dad away from you. Part of what I love so much about your dad is how much he loves you.”

Beau’s eyes narrowed and he sucked at his bottom lip before giving a nod, “she passed.”

“Good to know,” Negan let out a hearty laugh at Beau’s response, reaching out to grab a hold of his son to pull him down into his arms. Tickling at his sides had Beau laughing and trying to wiggle out of his embrace. “You’re awesome. You know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Beau managed to turn to face his father. Leaning in to hug Negan, Beau squeezed his arms around his father and sighed. “I just want you happy dad. I want us all happy again.”

Hearing the sound of movement downstairs, Negan brushed his fingers through Beau’s hair and pressed a kiss against the side of his son’s face, “It sounds like they are back in the house. We should get to making those cookies. They won’t make themselves.”

“Hey Y/N?” Beau called out when she went to get up and he stopped her before she could. Sliding across the bed, he wrapped an arm around her to give her a hug. “I think you’d make a good addition to our family.”

“I could only be so lucky,” she pat at the center of Beau’s back, seeing the awe in Negan’s eyes when he saw the two of them together. “I guess I should go make my presence known. Not that anyone wants it.”

“Hey!” Beau spoke up once more after she headed for the stairs. “Do you think they would mind if I searched some of the boxes up here for something later?”

“I don’t care what they mind or don’t mind, so have at it kiddo,” Y/N pointed toward the storage that was in the room they had Negan in. “I doubt they even know what they have up here anyways,” she looked over at the stuff they had packed away. “Let me know if you find anything cool.”

“Hey,” Negan stood up from the bed, stumbling over his feet to stop her. Grabbing a hold of her hand, he pulled her back to him and swept his fingers in over the side of her face. Drawing her to him, he brushed his lips over hers in a faint kiss.

Placing her hand in over Negan’s chest to put a distance between them made Negan huff. Glancing over at Beau, she shook her head and sighed, “Not in front of your son.”

“You’re just kissing. I’m thirteen. I’ll survive,” Beau noted lowering his head and waving his hand about in the air trying to give them their space for the small amount of time they had to kiss. With an arrogant bob of his head, Negan curled his arm around Y/N’s waist to pull her in closer to him. Gasping out, she placed her hand in over the center of his chest while his fingers stroked at her jawline. Stealing another kiss from her lips, Negan felt happy knowing that he could show affection to Y/N around one of the most important people in his life. “I hear footsteps. Might not want to make a whole event of it.”

“I’ll see you in a few,” Y/N pulled away with a laugh, the warmth of her breath lingering over his lips when she started to move down the stairs. Watching her, Negan hated that he had to continue to keep this secret.

Once she was gone, Negan reached for the bag that he had brought with them and set it on the bed to look for something, “You handled all of that really well.”

“I’ve had to deal with you being with Maggie for a while, so yeah…” Beau pulled his legs up to his chest when he sat on his father’s bed with his back pressed against the wall. “Plus, I like her. A lot. She’s mom material. Maggie never was.”

“Let’s try not to scare her away,” Negan teased with a wrinkle of his nose, leaving his bag on the bed when he went to grab something else.

“Like I could scare her away from you,” Beau snickered, going to move forward don the bed, but he kicked Negan’s bag onto the floor. Scrambling to pick it up, Beau reached for it and saw that there was a black box on the floor before him. “Dad?”

“Yeah?” Negan’s eyebrows bounced up, his head turning to see what had caused Beau to sound like he did. Stepping forward, Negan reached out for the box to see that Beau opened it up. Inside was the ring that Negan had originally bought for Maggie making Beau scoff.

“Is this for Y/N?” Beau wondered, his hazel eyes lifting from the engagement ring that was inside. Resting his hands on his hips, Negan huffed and let out a long exhale. “Dad?”

“No. That’s not for Y/N. If I get Y/N a ring I’ll have to get another one,” Negan answered his son with a shake of his head, sucking at his bottom lip. Frustration filled Beau’s face when he realized who the ring was meant for and he slammed the box shut. “That was just a ring I picked because I thought it was pretty. Well, I thought a girl would think it was pretty. But I had no emotional connection to it. I think if I get a ring for Y/N, it’s going to need to be one that hits me. You know?”

“Yeah, that’s great and all, but why the hell did you have an engagement ring for Maggie?” Beau lowered his hand down at his side holding the engagement ring tightly in his hands. “You never loved Maggie. Why did you buy her a ring? And even more, why did you bring it on the trip?”

“Beau,” Negan held his hands up in the air in a defensive position noticing that his once happy son was irritated and angry with what he had found. “I bought the ring weeks ago. Long before I ever felt what I did for Y/N. Maggie kept asking me about marriage all the time and I don’t know…”

“Why would you buy someone a ring if you didn’t love them?” Beau demanded an answer from his father hearing Negan’s breathing getting louder. Negan opened his mouth to say something, his hand raising up when Beau shook his head. “Were you planning on asking Maggie to marry you here? Was that the original plan?”

“I don’t know what the original plan was,” Negan confessed, placing his hand over his chest, the lines in his forehead growing. Trying to explain himself to his son, Negan cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders. “Maggie kept asking me about marriage. All the time. I don’t know Beau. I wasn’t exactly thinking to be honest with you. Before Maggie I was so lonely. And then Maggie was just there all the time and I just thought…if I didn’t want to lose her…”

“That’s ridiculous,” Beau snapped at his father, tossing the box at him when Negan scrambled to catch it. Pacing in his father’s room, Beau pushed back his hair shakily trying to gather his thoughts. “You never even asked me if I would be okay with that. You knew that Erin and I hated her.”

“I was lonely Beau. You know what being lonely feels like,” Negan reminded his son, the vein at the side of his neck bulging while he tried to appeal to his son to get him to calm down. “I wasn’t even sure if I was going to ask Maggie to marry me in the first place. I don’t know what I thought by bringing it here.”

“You wanted us to have a good Christmas. Well, I guarantee if you hadn’t found Y/N and you did ask Maggie to marry you here, it would have been fucking miserable for Erin and me,” Beau explained to his father, noticing the corner of Negan’s jawline flexing. “I love Maggie as a friend, but dad, we told you over and over again how we felt. How could you have even considered doing that? We all know you don’t have with Maggie what you do with Y/N.”

“Beau, I didn’t think before Y/N I would ever feel that way again,” Negan pled with his son, his face scrunching up and his eyebrows furrowing. “I just know that it felt nice having someone there and Maggie was getting antsy. If she didn’t get what she wanted, she was going to move on and I didn’t…I didn’t want to be alone again. I was comfortable with Maggie. I never thought I’d fall in love with someone again like I did your mom.”

“You have no idea how angry I am about this,” Beau pointed to the ring that Negan was holding in his hand, his eyebrows furrowed and his body completely tense. “If I didn’t know what I know about Y/N, I would absolutely erupt on you right now.”

“You’re kinda chewing me out right now kiddo and I’m not even going to give this to Maggie,” Negan stated waving the ring about in the air and shaking his head. “This ring is going back once we get back to New York City. And I’m getting Y/N another ring. One that hits me the moment that I see it. One that fits for her.”

“You should have asked me,” Beau maintained knowing that the situation at hand should have made him less angry, but he wasn’t. “You didn’t ask me if I was okay with Maggie originally. She just showed up and we had to deal with it. What you did with Y/N? What just happened right here. That’s the first right thing you’ve done since mom died.”

“Why are you so upset if you know I’m not going to ask her Beau?” Negan hushed his son when Beau’s voice started to raise. “You know how I feel about Y/N. You see it yourself. The spark is there with us. When it never was with Maggie.”

“Because I can’t believe you considered that in the first place dad!” Beau’s raspy voice hitched drawing Beau to roll his eyes and turn away from Negan. “We never connected with Maggie. And she wasn’t like Y/N, she wanted you all to herself and she would do anything to get it.”

“I thought you liked Maggie,” Negan pointed out seeing Beau glance back over his shoulder at him with an angered expression. “Kinda.”

“Dad, it took Maggie five months to grow the fuck up,” there was venom in Beau’s voice, his frustration just letting loose at this point. Hearing the way that Beau was speaking made Negan lower down on the bed, surprised to hear his son letting loose like this. “This last month, I think she realized that we weren’t going anywhere. That in order to be with you, she had to be with us. And I give her credit for trying this last month. I do. But she never, ever saw me. Not the way that Y/N did. I’ve bonded with Y/N more in the time being here than I ever did with Maggie.”

“Me too,” Negan whispered, reaching up with his free hand to drag it down over the side of his own face. Groaning out, Negan’s jawline flexed and he shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me that you hated Maggie so much?”

“I did. In so many fucking ways,” Beau stressed to his father and with all the times that Beau was swearing, Negan knew his son meant business because Beau tried to always keep things to a minimum with the swearing for Erin. “Even just now. Y/N felt uncomfortable kissing you in front of us. Some of the things I saw Maggie try to attempt to do to you while I was still in the room…”

“I would never do anything in front of you kids,” Negan defended himself, holding his hand up in the air to put that out there. “You know that.”

“I do! But there was that time where we were all watching movies together. You two were at one end of the sectional couch. Erin and I were at the other and I saw her constantly trying to grab your…” Beau felt weird talking about it, throwing his hands up in the air before pointing his hands down at the ground. “It was like she was always trying to persuade you with certain acts to get you to stop spending time with us.”

“One, I apologize because I never fucking knew you saw that, but on that day, I kept taking her hand and placing it elsewhere. I don’t do that kind of stuff around or near my kids,” Negan stood by how he felt about things knowing exactly the situation that Beau was talking about. “I remember erupting on her that night because of that. I’m not that person.”

“I know that,” Beau agreed with his dad, shrugging his shoulders when he thought about everything. “I’m not an idiot. I know you and mom could barely keep your hands off each other. Love is like that. And I can see that with Y/N, but at least she respects us not to expose us to that kind of shit dad.”

“I agree with you bud. This isn’t a discussion of I want to be with Y/N or Maggie,” Negan half laughed, pushing the box for the engagement ring back into his bag. “We know who I want to be with. So this ring? It’s meaningless.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you now,” Beau frowned, pushing his hands into his pockets knowing that it was probably stupid for him to be doing. “I think I’ve just been mad at you so long for Maggie that I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I understand that you are lonely dad but knowing that you were even considering marrying her in the first place upsets me. And it just brings back old feelings of things.”

“I understand,” Negan stepped before his son reaching out to place his hands in over Beau’s shoulders to give them a firm squeeze. “I was blinded by the way I felt after we lost your mom. I just got sad and I wasn’t thinking Beau. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. You’re right. It was a decision that I should have included you and your sister in. That’s why things feel right with Y/N. You liked her before you even knew. The two of you just click. And I think we’re doing things right this time.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Beau exhaled loudly, lifting his hands to place them over his dad’s arms. It wasn’t often that he yelled at his father, so he was upset that he did in general. “You just have to understand, I get Maggie is pretty but other than that, the two of you just didn’t click. And we didn’t click with her either.”

“I just thought Maggie was the best thing I could get,” Negan tried to justify his actions, but by the expression over Beau’s features he knew that Beau wasn’t buying that.

“Come on dad. I know you’re a conventionally good-looking guy with a great job,” Beau waved his hand about in the air being very dramatic in his approach. “There is no way that you couldn’t find someone beautiful, nice and that you could get along with. Maggie was just…the beautiful. I think you were thinking stupid with that one.”

A hesitant laugh fell from Negan’s throat and Beau threw his hands up in the air, “I’m not saying Maggie isn’t perfect. She’s just not perfect for you.”

“Nice save buddy,” Negan pat his son on the shoulder hearing the sound of the door opening. Looking beyond Beau, Negan could see that Erin was making it up the stairs with her new polar bear stuffed animal in her arms. “There is my beautiful sleepyhead.”

“Good morning daddy,” Erin got to the top step and ran to her father who eagerly picked her up in his arms. Resting her head against Negan’s shoulder had Negan wrapping his arms around her tightly. “We’re making cookies today?”

“That was the plan,” Negan replied with a long sigh, using his free hand to put the bag that the ring was in at the corner of the room.

“The real way? Not the Maggie way?” Erin pulled her head back looking up at her father with an uneasy expression. “Not that they didn’t taste good or anything. They just, it was really boring.”

“The real way,” Negan laughed nodding over toward the stairs. The scent of breakfast was filling the air around them and he figured they should go attempt to help. “Let’s go help downstairs and then we can get to the cookie making.”

“Great, I’m hungry,” Erin informed her father with a big yawn as he moved down the stairs.

It was an awkward breakfast. Nah. Fuck that. It was a severely awkward breakfast. Everyone was silent. They all sat at the table just eating. No one knew what to say. Not after yesterday. Truthfully? It was probably a good thing. Because if Hershel would have opened his mouth about things, Negan knew that he wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut. And he was fairly certain that Beau wouldn’t have been able to either.

After breakfast, Annette let them know that they would be going to the store to finish up some Christmas shopping so they would be gone for a few hours. That meant it would leave Maggie and Glenn home alone with Negan, the kids and Y/N while they were working on their sugar cookies. There was no doubt in Negan’s mind that Maggie would have rather been going with her family shopping but had agreed previously with Beau to do the cookie making.

“Okay, so I’m going to make the dough with the kids and after, all of us can work together with the frosting, sprinkles and shape cutouts,” Y/N adjusted the stepping stool that she had for Erin to use next to the counter. If avoiding was a talent, she was great at it. Y/N refused to look at Maggie & Glenn, yet she was very attentive to the children and Negan while setting things up.

“Hey, do you think we could talk?” Maggie stepped forward, caressing her hands over her lower back letting out a strained breath. “I think the two of us should really talk about things.”

“I made a promise to the kids. Anything you want to talk about after, I’m open to,” Y/N responded to her sister knowing that she wasn’t trying to be purposely cold to the people in her family, she just had a goal and she wanted to accomplish it. That was her main goal with things. Maggie just nodded, unsure of what to say. “You and Glenn can wait at the table if you would like until we have everything ready.”

“Sounds good,” Glenn cleared his throat uneasily and it was visible even in his features that he didn’t know how to respond to the way that Y/N was acting toward them.

Once Y/N moved to the counter, Erin was eager to hop up on the stepping stool that Y/N had set up for her and Beau moved in beside her, “So we’re going to make the dough, roll it out, cut out the shapes and then decorate these cookies. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Erin blurt out with Negan moving in beside his daughter to make sure that she wouldn’t fall. Eager to include the children, Y/N let both Beau and Erin do certain parts of the mixing and when it got to the harder parts of the mixing Negan helped Erin. They made enough dough for several batches before setting up a few areas for them to roll out the dough to cut out shapes. “This is fun.”

“Yeah?” Negan muttered, looking over his shoulder to see that both Maggie and Glenn were sitting at separate sides of the table. They weren’t interacting, they were just sitting there and it looked, well, boring. Turning his attention back to his children working with Y/N, Negan couldn’t help but notice the way that Y/N already interacted with his children. She had them laughing and loudly. They were happy and that was what she was out to achieve this whole time.

“We’re going to have so many cookies,” Erin took notice of all the trays that they had set out across the large kitchen.

“This is how mom used to do it,” Beau informed his sister using a cookie cutter to cut the shapes he wanted out with the dough. “We’d bake for hours and hours. All three of us. You were really little though.”

“I remember,” Erin insisted, using all the strength she had to push down with the cookie cutter she had. “I just mostly did the decorating and I’d watch you with mom.”

“You remember that?” Negan pressed a quick kiss against Erin’s cheek before helping her to put pressure on the cookie cutter.

“Just because I’m small, doesn’t mean I don’t remember things,” Erin informed her dad, tipping her head back to look up at him with her green eyes. “There are a lot of things I remember about mom. It’s hard to forget.”

“Your mother was always hard to forget,” Negan noted, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Y/N was watching the two of them together with a smirk. “We’re going to have to eat lots of cookies. That’s for sure.”

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that,” Y/N playfully nudged Negan with her hip, finishing up with another baking sheet before moving to the table to set a few of the sheets before Glenn and Maggie.

“We also have to save some for Santa,” Erin commented with a big smile after she finished up with the cookies that she was preparing for Y/N to set aside. “I’m sure he needs at least six because he’s, a big guy.”

“I’m not a big guy and I could eat at least six,” Negan snorted eliciting a giggle from his daughter who hopped from the stepping stool into his arms. Y/N and Beau finished up with the last remaining parts of the dough before they put the first two trays into the oven to bake them.

“Now it’s all about waiting for them to bake. Letting them cool down and then being able to decorate them,” Y/N explained, throwing her hands up in the air when she thought about things. Placing her hands over her hips, she shrugged her shoulders and cleared her throat. “If all of you want to go do something else for a while, I imagine it’s going to take some time.”

“How about we just play a game or something?” Beau suggested pointing in the direction of the front room. “I remember Annette showing me that if we were bored, we could grab one of the board games that you have. That way we are spending time together.”

“Smart idea,” Negan spoke up first and if boredom could kill, it looked like Glenn and Maggie would want to die on the spot. Setting Erin down, Negan placed his hand over her shoulder and nodded toward the front room. “Why don’t you go grab one and we will figure something out.”

“Come on,” Beau waved his sister to follow him, leaving the four adults alone in the kitchen.

“I imagine if you want to talk now, we can for a few minutes,” Y/N suggested nodding over toward the hallway. It made the color fade from Maggie’s face before she nodded and got up. Giving Negan a final glance, Y/N followed her sister out into the hallway and noticed that Maggie shifted on her feet uncomfortably. “You don’t have to play the game if you don’t want to. You can go do whatever you prefer. I know waiting is probably boring.”

“No, I should do this,” Maggie asserted, shoving her hands into her pockets while she shifted on her feet. “I was thinking about things since last night Y/N. I don’t think you realize the effect you really do have on this family.”

“I know I’m the worst thing that happened to it,” Y/N stated with a long sigh, leaning back against the wall. Negan and Glenn’s voices were somewhat heard, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying while they were in the hallway. “Dad let me know how he felt last night with everything and I listened. After this, I’ll make sure I never embarrass him again because I will never see him again.”

“That’s not what I mean Y/N,” Maggie frowned, holding her hands up in the air. “I don’t know why daddy is the way he is with you. I never understood it. More so now. But when it came to you growing up, you always inspired us to want more in our lives.”

“Come on,” Y/N laughed knowing that was the furthest from the truth.

“I went to New York because of you Y/N,” Maggie reminded her, her eyes shifting while she tried to gather her thoughts. “I know I’ve told you these stories when we were younger, but when I was little, my mother was really big on Christmas too and I was so in love with the idea of Santa. When she got sick, it was around the holidays and she always told me the stories about the real Santa that would travel down to the Macy’s in New York. I always wanted to go. Always, but daddy never took us. And my mother passed away before we ever could. I never thought about that for years. Christmas turned me off so bad because of losing my mom…”

Lowering her head, Y/N felt the lump in her throat growing hearing the emotions that were in Maggie’s tone and she knew that her sister was attempting to hold back her tears, “but I got sick of the way things were here. Beth too. Obviously, since she was the one that made sure you made it here this Christmas. She missed you. You were always so good with her, no matter how sad you were,” Maggie reminded Y/N who lifted her head to stare up at Maggie again with a sadness in her expression, “It was because of you I went out to New York to experience life. You were gone for so long and you were making things work for yourself. I would have never done that if you didn’t inspire me. I would have never seen…I would have never seen Macy’s for the first time.”

A shuddering breath fell from Maggie’s lips when she threw her hands up with a shrug. Reaching out, Y/N hooked her fingers around her sister’s fingers to show her the support she needed in that moment when the memories of Maggie’s mother returned to her. The gesture surprised Maggie, but she squeezed at Y/N’s fingers.

“God, you should have seen me when I first walked into that store this year when they started all of the Christmas stuff,” Maggie half laughed, lifting her free hand to wipe at the tears that were sliding down her face. “I’m how old? And I’m sobbing at the sight of seeing Santa there for the first time. Because it brought everything back to me. It brought my mom back to me…”

“I’m glad you had that moment,” Y/N spoke in a whisper, her head tipping to the side when Maggie tried to gain back her strength to speak.

“It kills daddy that you had such a big impact on all of us because he’s afraid that all of us are going to leave him,” Maggie declared with a shake of her head, clearing her throat. “You know he always wanted to keep us here. And then you leave and suddenly everyone wants to follow in your footsteps. You inspired a lot of us to want to experience more than just this life. Even if I do love this life Y/N.”

Nodding, Y/N didn’t know what to say because she never really thought much about herself to begin with.

“I know you hate me…” Maggie began and Y/N immediately shook her head, stopping Maggie’s statement.

“I never hated anyone Maggie,” Y/N interrupted Maggie with a frown, looking down toward their hands that were holding. “All I ever wanted was all of you to like me because I did love all of you. You’re my family. Even dad. I wanted him to love me too. I came back here thinking that maybe, I don’t know, that I could fix things with everyone, but it was never going to happen.”

“What he said last night isn’t true,” Maggie suggested, but it really didn’t stop her from hurting after Hershel said everything he did. “If anything, you were the star of the family. You were always the one that the town was talking about. People always came up to dad after you left asking about you because you brought a lot of attention to this place.”

“So did you. How many competitions did you win with the horses when we were younger?” Y/N reminded Maggie watching Maggie pull her hand back and away from Y/N. “Everyone loved you, Maggie. Everyone. So what you said last night, there was nothing for you to be jealous about.”

“Even that,” Maggie had a hard time looking at Y/N when she brought up the horse riding competitions when they were younger. “You won more than I did when we were younger. You and Dakota were the better pair, but you gave it up when I got upset with you.”

“That’s…” Y/N’s breath left her lungs when Maggie reminded her of their childhood.

“Don’t,” Maggie shook her head letting out a tense breath. “Daddy thinks you quit because you were a quitter in his eyes. I remember getting upset with you because you were younger than me and you were winning so much more than I was. I ripped into you one day because I was jealous and you gave it up that week. You don’t think I realized that? I was the older sister, I should have been the one lifting you up, but instead I just allowed you to quit. And when daddy got so upset with you, I said nothing. I should have been telling you that you didn’t need to quit to pick me up.”

“I liked art better anyways,” Y/N tried to make light of the situation they were talking about. “I did a lot of things for this family that no one knows about, but there is no reason to talk about them because then what is the point? I didn’t do them to brag. I didn’t do them to put the attention on me. I did it because…”

“You were always putting everyone else’s happiness over your own,” Maggie finished for her and Y/N sucked down at her bottom lip. “You’re a good person Y/N. You were always a good person.”

“Maggie,” guilt ate away at Y/N hearing that, especially since she knew what she was doing with Negan behind Maggie’s back. “I’m really not a good person. I uh…I have something to tell you. And it’s kind of big. Something that might…”

“The first round is done,” Glenn’s voice interrupted the two of them, drawing Y/N to tense up when her fiancé entered the hallway. “Negan put in the next batch and Beau set up the game for all of us to play. He had to run upstairs to go do something, but he wanted the rest of us to play.”

“Got it,” Y/N nodded, taking that as a sign from the world that now was not the time to tell Maggie about Negan. Heading back into the kitchen, she saw that Negan was at one end of the table with Erin in his lap. They were laughing and giggling about something when her and Maggie got back to the table.

It wasn’t a very exciting game they were playing, but they did it until all of the cookies were done baking and cooling. Beau was gone for most of the time, but when he finally did come back, he seemed really happy about something, but said nothing. They cleaned up the game and prepared the table to be the decorating area for all of them. There was more than enough cookies for everyone to decorate and Y/N got a huge amount of frostings and sprinkles for the kids to use.

Y/N was seated between Beau and Glenn across from Negan who was between Maggie and Erin. Everyone seemed to be having fun for the most part with random conversations being started, but Glenn was the one taking the most time with things.

“You don’t have to make things perfect, you know?” Y/N whispered to Glenn who lifted his eyes up from the candy cane shaped sugar cookie that he was decorating. “It’s about having fun. It’s going to taste the same no matter how perfect it is or not.”

“Well all of the cookies coming from you, Beau and Negan look like they came from an actual bakery,” Glenn pointed toward the cookies that were done that looked meticulous even if they were using silly colors. “I just want to put out good looking cookies.”

“I’m doing the same,” Maggie announced, lifting her cookie up to show that she was working on a snowman that she was trying to be very meticulous with. “I don’t want them to look bad.”

“Who cares if they look bad?” Erin blurt out, lifting up her Santa Claus showing that it was messy and her hands were covered in frosting, but she was having fun. “Look at my Santa…”

“Looks just like him,” Negan teased his daughter making her giggle and shake her head. “I think we should save that one for Santa because he will love it.”

“I’m covered in frosting,” Beau pointed out holding up his hands to show Glenn and Maggie. “And not all of my cookies are perfect. It’s just about having fun and being silly.”

“Come on,” Negan got up from the table and moved in behind Maggie. Grabbing a Christmas tree sugar cookie, Negan placed it in Maggie’s hand. There were tubes of icing and bowls of frosting depending on what people wanted to do. Leading her hand over toward the bowl of green icing, he felt Maggie tensing up. “Relax Maggie. Have some fun.”

“Negan,” Maggie huffed when he dipped the cookie into the bowl of frosting getting the front covered in it. “Now it looks messy.”

“Then use your fingers,” Negan motioned her to set it down on the table and when he led her fingers toward the cookie it had her groaning out. “It’s okay to get messy Maggie. Not everything in life is going to be perfectly clean.”

Reaching for a snowflake cookie, Negan handed it over to her and gave a half smile, “Now you try. You can get the base of these ready and then you can add the small details.”

“You can do it Maggie,” Beau snickered with Maggie looking at the plain sugar cookie in her hands. “Have some fun.”

“Why not?” Maggie stood up from her seat to reach across the table to dip her cookie into the bowl of white frosting. Negan, Beau and Erin all clapped for her and it drew Y/N to laugh when Maggie’s face reddened over.

“See? Not so bad,” Erin pointed toward her area that was messy. “It’s about making memories and having fun. It’s all going to taste the same.”

“She’s not wrong,” Negan snatched one of the cookies that Maggie had already done, taking a big bite of it. It made Maggie glare at him, but he laughed and shrugged his shoulders before taking another big bite to finish off the cookie. “Still tastes good.”

Beau took a cookie for himself and dipped it into the bowl of frosting like Negan had shown Maggie. Holding it up toward Glenn, Beau hoped that Glenn would take the hint that it was okay just to relax and have some fun. The sugar cookie Beau had grabbed was reindeer shaped and he had used red frosting as his base color drawing a giggle from Erin.

Following in his father’s footsteps, Beau took a big bite from his cookie and nodded, “A red reindeer tastes just as good as a brown one.”

“Point taken,” Glenn let out a long exhale and suddenly his posture got a whole lot more relaxed with things. “Thank you.”

Giving Glenn a small nudge with her elbow, Y/N was happy to finally see him let loose. For the first time in a while it made Glenn smile. It was nice to see because it seemed like the person that Glenn was had completely disappeared since they came to her family’s place. Even though she didn’t feel like she was in love with Glenn, she still knew that she cared deeply for him and he had been acting so differently lately.

Now that things were more relaxed, they were finishing up with cookies a whole lot faster and the feeling of things was so much more relaxed between all of them. Even with Maggie and Glenn.

“See, wasn’t this more fun?” Negan confirmed with Maggie and she nodded when they were finishing up with the cookies that were left. When Negan dropped his head down to finish with the cookie, Maggie reached out to dip her fingers into the remainder of one of the frostings only to drag them across the side of Negan’s face. With a confused expression, Negan pulled his head back and gave Maggie a glare. “The hell was that?”

“Well, you’re as sweet as a sugar cookie, so maybe I got confused and thought you needed some frosting,” Maggie snickered looking to her fingers that were covered in the frosting. With a nod, Negan dug his fingers into the bowl of frosting that was in front of him and swung his hand out to have a splat of frosting go across Maggie’s face. A loud gasp fell from her throat when she pushed her chair back and Negan immediately laughed. “You jerk!”

“Hey now,” Negan muttered when Maggie reached for more frosting attempting to throw it at Negan, but he slid back the chair just enough for the glob of frosting that she threw to hit Erin in the center of the face. With a loud gasp, Maggie was mortified when Erin dropped the cookie that she was working on.

“Oh honey, I am so sorry,” Maggie immediately apologized, not sure how to react to hitting Negan’s daughter with the frosting. “Why did you move Negan? I didn’t mean to do that. I swear.”

“It’s okay!” Erin giggled, throwing her hands up in the air to get Maggie to calm down. Reaching up, she wiped at the frosting over her face and took one of her fingers into her mouth. “It’s tasty! And it’s fun. So I don’t care!”

“Thatta girl,” Negan snickered, keeping Erin’s chair secure when she reached for some frosting herself. “Careful now.”

Negan assumed that Erin was going to be giving payback to Maggie, but instead she threw some of the red frosting that she had at Glenn who jolted back surprised when it splat across his face. A laugh fell from Glenn’s throat, when he dramatically shook his head, “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Erin was amused with Glenn’s reaction to everything, her laughter showing that she found everything funny. “I just wanted to include you.”

After that everyone started throwing the remainder of the frosting around at each other leaving them in a food fight of sorts until the sound of someone clearing their throat drew them all to stop. Maggie was clinging to a bowl that she slowly lowered to the table when she saw that it was her father standing in the entrance of the kitchen giving all of them a glare.

“It’s time for us to clean this up and get ready to go to the trail that you all planned for,” Hershel pointed toward the clock that was on the wall showing that time had passed incredibly quickly. “If you want to get there before the crowd shows up, you’ll need to get this mess cleaned up.”

“Yes daddy,” Maggie was embarrassed to be covered in frosting knowing that it was something that he would not be amused with. “We’re sorry.”

A loud gasp fell from a few of them when Beau launched the remainder of the frosting that he grabbed before they were interrupted at Hershel. It was a direct hit at the center of Hershel’s face and everyone grew tense when Hershel stumbled back in shock.

“Beau!” Negan called out his son’s name watching Beau hold his finger up to motion Negan to wait. There was a sense of terror in Negan’s eyes when Beau reached for one of the last remaining plain cookies.

Walking over to Hershel, Beau held out the cookie that he grabbed and offered up a cheeky smile that much resembled his father’s, “The cookies taste great Mr. Greene. You should try them. Along with the frosting, they are even better.”

The room was silent. None of them sure how to respond when Hershel reached up to wipe the glob of frosting from his face with a booming laughter that surprised all of them. Accepting the cookie, Hershel wiped what he had of the frosting on the cookie before taking a bite.

“You’re right, the cookie is very good,” Hershel commented reaching out to squeeze over Beau’s shoulder. There was almost a sigh of relief, but also confusion at Hershel’s response to what Beau did. “Let me help you get these cookies put away while you clean up.”

Finishing up the cookie that Beau handed him, Hershel moved over toward the containers and started putting away the finished cookies that they had done. When Beau returned to the table to help clean things up, Y/N looked to Beau with big eyes.

“Holy shit,” she whispered to Beau who shrugged, his dimples prominent showing that he was proud of himself. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“He deserved it,” Beau stated under his breath, kneeling down on the floor with his dad who was wiping things up.

“You could have got us kicked out of here,” Negan reminded his son, who simply bobbed his head from side to side. Lifting his hand up, Negan knuckle bumped Beau who let out a muted laugh at the impressed expression his father gave him. “Good job. I wish I would have thought of it.”

“I know,” Beau chuckled while he helped clean things up. Once everything was mostly clean, Hershel approached the table and he was eating the last plain sugar cookie.

“I’d hate to see what your home looks like,” Hershel stated, his eyes locked on Negan who let out a hesitant laugh.

“It’s surprisingly very clean,” Maggie replied to her father who gazed over at her from where she was with Y/N at the sink. “Negan keeps things spotless in his home. Even if they do make a mess at times.”

“Color me surprised,” Hershel commented, nodding toward the hallway. “I’m going to go get cleaned up. I suggest the rest of you do the same so we can get headed out. I don’t think you want to go to the trail covered in frosting. But then again? It’s up to you.”

“He’s taking things really well,” Glenn was quiet when he approached both Y/N and Maggie. “I thought he would be furious.”

“You and me both,” Maggie agreed with Glenn, finishing up with the bowl that she was cleaning in the sink. “That was shocking.”

“Beau has a way with people I think,” Y/N claimed, gazing back at Beau with Negan and Erin. “I’m glad dad likes him because there is so much to like.”

Maybe Beau was rubbing off on Hershel because in the past she would have never seen her father reacting to that situation the way he did today. That was one positive she could think about with her father since coming here. Even if it changed nothing when it came to her relationship with Hershel, she was glad he was being good to Negan’s children.

----

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