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naughtyneganjdm · 3 months

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Naughty or Nice - Chapter 13

Summary: Negan and Y/N get ready to leave her family's farm, but when certain things are revealed it leaves an explosive amount of emotions for everyone.

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

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/134344273

Warnings: Swearing, severe angst, etc.

Notes: This is my second to last chapter. It's long. It's very angsty and I love you guys who put up with this the whole time and those who have taken the time to comment! I appreciate you all.

You can tell yourself that it’s going to be easy breaking up with someone, but it never is. Especially when it’s someone you consider to be an overall good person. A person where there is really no good reason for breaking up with them. Other than you just don’t love them and they aren’t for you. So many people would tell Y/N that she was crazy for giving up Glenn. He was sweet. He was caring. He was cute. But he just wasn’t someone she was in love with. Standing before his bedroom door this morning had her feeling awful about the decision she was about to make.

At first, she considered actually sitting down and talking with Glenn. That was probably the most kindhearted option and the best thing to do, but she couldn’t gather enough strength to wake him. Negan and Maggie had broken up the night before, agreeing that they didn’t belong together. Telling Glenn that to his face when Glenn was actually good really made things hard. Because of that she decided to write Glenn a letter. It was vague, but it just stressed that she found someone else that she realized she was in love with and it was an attempts at letting Glenn down easily instead of hurting him.

Thinking back on her relationship with Glenn, it was always pretty obvious that the only reason she continued on with the dating part was because she actually enjoyed his company. When Glenn showed up in Y/N’s life, she was always busy and deep into work. It didn’t really give her time to socialize or date.

There was no plans on having Glenn in her life. Hell, he was just a guy that delivered her pizza to her late one night that was nice to her. Both of them just enjoyed talking to each other. Glenn confessed that most people didn’t treat him like a human being and she lacked connection with people outside of her job. They hit it off in that sense. But what she really needed was a friend and Glenn provided that for her.

Asking Glenn on a date was more so a way of her trying to get him to spend more time with her instead of her having to order pizzas every time she wanted to talk to someone. What was nice about everything was being able to have someone to share moments with. To not feel like she was alone, but she never truly felt like she was in love with Glenn. They only had sex because Y/N felt like she had to after how long they had essentially dated. For her, she never felt connected to it. She loved Glenn in the friend way so it only felt awkward any time she had to get intimate with him.

When Glenn asked her to marry him, it was on a vacation they had taken together to France. They were in front of a bunch of strangers, miles away from home and they were going to be stuck together for days. The only reason she told him yes was to avoid hurting him and making things awkward. Sure, she wanted Glenn in her life, but not in the way that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Quietly turning the doorknob, Y/N was hoping that Glenn was still sleeping. Thankfully when the door partially opened, she could see that he was deep in sleep. Stepping into the room, she gazed over Glenn and felt her chest ache. Hopefully by the time that he woke up she would be long gone. Setting the letter down on the corner of the dresser that was in his room, she took a look at Glenn and sighed. Grabbing a hold of the engagement ring that Glenn had given her, she tugged it down her finger and held it between her fingertips. It felt weird taking it off after this long, but she knew this was genuinely the best thing for both of them. Setting the ring down on top of the letter, she knew that he would be confused, but this had to be done.

Taking another look at Glenn sleeping reminded her of the past. Glenn was a good-looking guy, there was no question in that. Most women would be lucky to have someone like Glenn in their lives. That was why she always felt bad for wanting more. Glenn was enough. Just not in the terms of what she needed in her life. Sure, this wouldn’t be the last time she would see Glenn. This was just the easiest way of breaking up with him and making things easier for both of them. Knowing this wouldn’t be the last time seeing him made things easier. Although she assumed he may never want to see her again after all of this.

Backstepping toward the hallway, she wanted to make sure that she didn’t make any noise to draw him to wake up. Glenn was a pretty light sleeper so this made it hard enough as it was. Taking extra time to close the door, she realized she likely looked silly in how she was acting, but those extra steps to keep him asleep were necessary. Once the door clicked closed, she waited outside of it. Listening closely, she was thankful that she didn’t hear the sounds of Glenn moving around inside telling her that she successfully escaped. Standing still for a moment longer, she finally tip toed back toward the stairs that led to the attic.

Originally, Negan had talked about them revealing things to her family, but that was before he had broken up with Maggie. Truthfully? She was happy they changed their plan. Instead of sticking around, they were just going to leave before everyone woke up. It was the only way that made sense for her. She had written letters for everyone. Everyone except for Hershel. Everything that she had to say had been already said to her father. Once she was done with them, she put them on the counter and addressed each letter to the person it went to.

So it was very important to still move quietly throughout the house. Avoiding conflict and confrontation was key. After everything from the night before, she didn’t want to fight with anyone. And as strong as she was, she knew that she probably couldn’t tell Maggie to her face what she had done. This was good enough. It was easy for everyone and it avoided more fighting.

Closing the door that led to the attic, she moved slowly up the stairs. She was sluggish in her movements. Both from depression and her trying to be quiet. At the top stair she heard a squeak that made her wince. Damn this house for being as old as it was. Standing beside the bed was Negan attempting to prepare the shirt that he was about to put on. Hearing the stair squeak drew him to look over his shoulder at her, flashing her one of his charming smiles.

In his eyes Y/N could tell that he was still tired. They had talked most of the night. If anything, they might have gotten an hour of sleep together. It was nice having someone to talk to. With Glenn, Y/N never felt like she could truly connect with him. A lot of her feelings were deep and Glenn was always so positive. It took someone like Negan who could see both the positive and negative in life to help her hear what she really needed.

“Hey there beautiful,” Negan was cheerful in his delivery, turning slowly on his heel. “How’d everything go?”

“I’m a wimp,” she confessed, throwing her hands up when she realized everything she had done was to save herself from more stress and drama. Wiggling her fingers in the air had Negan smirking, but his eyes narrowed showing that he was confused. “My hand hurts. I wrote everyone a letter. I know that was the plan with my family and I thought about talking things out with Glenn, but I just couldn’t bring myself to actually do that. So I wrote him a letter too.”

Heading over to the corner of the room, she rest back against the wall to stare out at Negan who dropped his arm down and was holding his shirt at his side, “I couldn’t even have the decency to break up with him to his face. I just left the letter and the engagement ring on his dresser. I didn’t even go into details in the letter. I just told him I found someone else that I realized I was in love with. That he was a perfect guy and I still cared about him, but I just wasn’t in love with him.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Negan quipped, his eyebrow arching in curiosity. By the expression over her face, he could tell that she didn’t think it was a good way to break up with someone. Moving across the attic, Negan outstretched his arms to place his hands over her hips. Drawing her near him, he tipped down to press a loving kiss over her forehead and she sighed.

It was a loaded question. There were so many things wrong with how she decided to break up with Glenn, but she didn’t want to talk about them. Not right now.

Brushing her fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered Negan’s chest, she gave him a weak smile and looked down. Negan’s jeans were hanging low at his hips giving her plenty enough of a view to have her heartrate quicken. The v-line on Negan’s hips were incredible and she loved his body. A lot of people were attracted to the muscular type, but she was in awe of Negan’s slender physique, “Did I just miss you putting your pants on?”

“I did just change out of my pajamas,” Negan snickered, tapping his fingers against her chin. Leading her to tip her head back, Negan’s expression grew arrogant and she knew that he liked her being naughty with him. “What? Is seeing me shirtless not good enough for you.”

“Come on Negan. Play fair. You know that I love every part of you,” she frowned, sliding her hands down from his chest toward his slender abdomen. Negan’s eyes fluttered to a close when she reached the area just beneath his bellybutton where there was a softness to his flesh. Even the small smirk he gave when she dragged her fingertips further down had a fire growing inside of her. “I’m just suggesting that maybe seeing you changing out of your pajamas and into your pants would have helped me get through the day.”

“Is that so?” Negan’s right eyebrow arched, a growl falling from his throat. Stepping back, Negan unhooked his belt that he was wearing after tossing his shirt back on top of the bed. Dropping her gaze, her lips parted and her breathing grew louder. It was hard to really focus on what with Negan. His body or his incredibly attractive features? Because it was hard doing both. “If it’s the only thing that can help you make it through the day, then who the fuck am I to keep that from you?”

There was something sensual about the way that Negan dragged his fingers across his belt and over the button in his pants. Being sexy wasn’t something he had to try hard at, but he was doing his best to put on a show for her right now. Even the way he dragged down the zipper of his jeans had her heart skip a beat. Ever so slightly, he began to tug at the material of his jeans. Inch by inch he started to reveal his body to her, stopping when he reached the area to reveal the dark curls of hair that surrounded the base of his cock.

“Is this good enough for you?” Negan taunted her, very much aware of the fact that she wanted more.

“Now you’re just being a tease,” she alerted him with her throat growing dry at the sight of him.

“Oh? I’m a tease?” Negan dramatically repeated, turning on his heel and lower his pants just enough to reveal his small bottom her. His antics had her rolling her eyes, but his laughter was cute in itself. “Is this better?”

“I thought you wanted to be good to me,” she played back, sucking faintly at her bottom lip when he shot her a flirty glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, it wasn’t my ass that you wanted to see?” Negan rambled, turning to face her again. Enthusiastically pushing at the material of his jeans and his boxer briefs had them pooling at his ankles. Throwing his hands up in the air in an arrogant fashion and giving her the biggest, cheesiest smile had her laughing. “Better?”

“You’re ridiculous,” she confessed, stepping forward to brace her hand in over the center of his chest. Tipping up on her toes, she brought their lips together having him hum against her flesh between their kisses.

“And you love me anyways,” Negan slurred, his tongue brushing out between her lips. Pulling her flush against him had her gasping out, her right arm hooking around his shoulders. Behind heavy eyelids, Negan stared down at her and shook his head. “I love you so fucking much.”

“And I love you,” she assured him, dragging her left hand down over the side of his face. Stroking her fingers through his short beard had him leaning into her touch and sighing. “You’re a sight I could never get sick of.”

“I do have a pretty nice dick,” Negan admitted causing her to roll her eyes and laugh. “Hey, you’re the one that came in asking to see it.”

“You do, I agree,” she whispered, drawing her finger across his bottom lip. With him pressing faint kisses at the pad of her thumb, she knew that she needed to be able to focus. “But I meant in general. Fully clothed, partially clothed, completely naked…I could never get sick of you.”

“That’s good,” Negan snickered looking down between them and she did the same. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

“So that?” she tipped her head down to stare at his semi erect body. “That’s mine?”

“All yours,” Negan snorted, burying his head against the side of her neck to press wet kisses over her flesh. “If you want, you can touch it a few times, but that’s probably it. We need to get out of here before everyone is up and about. Maybe later tonight after Santa delivers the presents under the Christmas tree, you can let him come down your chimney.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like quite the offer. I don’t know, is Santa going to be dressed up in his suit?” she lowered her hand down between them to curl her fingers around the root to his masculinity hearing him growl. Pressing his forehead to hers, Negan smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Because I think I’d be more willing to let him come down my chimney if he was dressed appropriately.”

“If that’s something you’re interested in, we can make it happen,” he whispered, his eyebrows furrowing when he looked between them to watch her touching him in delicate strokes. “I just have to warn you it may be the skinniest version of Santa Claus you’ve ever seen. He’s been on a bit of a diet.”

“I can work with that,” she nibbled at his bottom lip having him faintly moan when she gave it a small tug. “It’s too bad we can’t get in a quick session before we go.”

“I kind of fucked myself over in this situation,” Negan informed her with a growl, grabbing a hold of her wrist to stop her from getting him completely rigid in her touch. Damning himself, Negan licked his lips and huffed. “I already have Beau and Erin up. They are packing their things. If I didn’t I would have had no problem doing that.”

“I guess we will just have to wait until tonight to get that visit from Santa,” she chuckled giving him one final kiss before stepping back and away from him. Huffing out, Negan looked down and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re not wrong. We do need to get out of here before everyone wakes up.”

“Fuck,” he grumbled bending down to grab his boxer briefs and his jeans. Working them back up his body, Negan took some time to adjust his length in a way that would be comfortable enough for him to zip his jeans back up. “I didn’t think you would be ready to go for another round this morning. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have woken them up.”

“I’ll survive,” she assured him, patting him on the chest and then heading over to the bed. Snatching the shirt that he threw on top of it, she tossed it back to him and he caught it. “The buildup for tonight will make it that much better.”

“I feel like you have to flash me your ass or your tits to only make this fair,” Negan explained which made her laugh at the bluntness of it. “I just gave you everything here.”

“You’re almost fully erect Negan, is that really what you want?” she pointed down toward his groin hearing him huff him response. Stepping forward, Negan brought her in closer to him and hovered his lips in over hers. Gasping out, she felt Negan’s fingers caress up under her shirt to trace his rough fingertips over the lengths of her back. When he slid them back down, his fingers sank beneath the material of her pants to caress at her fleshy bottom. Purring against his lips, she felt her heart rate quicken and she shook her head. “You really do like torturing yourself, don’t you?”

“Probably,” Negan scoffed, giving her bottom another firm squeeze before pulling back and away. Pulling his shirt on had her laughing with the expression that he was making. “I promise to be a good boy from here on out.”

“You better,” she noted heading over toward the window that was in the attic to stare out at the land with the sun only just starting to come up. Thinking about everything she had already accomplished today made her let out a loud exhale. “You don’t think I’m a bad person for breaking things off the way I did with Glenn, do you?”

“You didn’t just take off with no explanation,” Negan reasoned with her going back to packing his things for them to leave. “I think what you did was appropriate enough. I told Maggie the same thing you did in your letter to Glenn. So what makes mine any different than yours?”

“You actually broke up with her to her face?” Y/N suggested, looking back over her shoulder at Negan to watch him gathering his things. “You’re stronger than me. I don’t think I could have dealt with Glenn’s reaction to him finding out I was in love with someone else.”

“Glenn will be fine honey,” Negan stood up from where he was and headed over to where she was standing. Cupping her face in his hands in a tender grasp, his eyes connected with her and he tried giving her the support she needed. “I know you are going through a whirlwind of emotions right now, but you have to trust me. Everything is going to be okay. I promise you that.”

“I’m sorry for being all over the place with my feelings right now. I just feel like a terrible person,” she frowned allowing Negan to pull her in closer to him. Placing her hands in over the center of his chest, she looked up at him with her saddened expression and he shook his head. “After everything that has happened, I don’t know.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” Negan hushed her dragging his thumb out over her bottom lip. “You just want to be happy for once and I really don’t think there is anything wrong with that Y/N. You deserve happiness just like everyone else does.”

“With what Hershel said last night,” she started, but Negan hushed her trying to keep her from letting her thoughts linger with her father.

“What he said doesn’t matter. Nothing he says matters because it’s a bunch of bullshit. He’s a liar,” Negan stressed lowering down enough to press a tiny kiss over her lips. “We’re going to get you away from here and then you are going to realize that everything is as it is meant to be. You will be happy, I promise.”

“How do you think people will handle us leaving together?” she inquired, her face flooding with contemplation. “I forgot to leave the keys with Glenn, but I will set them by the door when we finally do leave.”

“I don’t know. You pretty much told me that we were terrible at hiding things,” Negan replied, letting out a long sigh. An arrogant smirk tugged at his handsome features when he clasped her jaw between his thumb and his index finger. “Maybe the whole family knows at this point. I mean last night, when you first came in here, we weren’t quiet. I think we almost put a hole in the wall with what you were doing originally.”

“I was upset,” she reminded Negan who simply nodded. When she came in here, she just wanted to feel like the center of Negan’s world. Maybe she was too rough, but he handled it well in swaying her to what she really wanted. “I just wanted to feel something else other than the pain. My father tried to suggest that both you and Glenn liked Maggie more than you did me. I told you the things he said last night and they were just eating away at me.”

“I know what you were doing because I’ve been there,” Negan assured her capturing her lips in another kiss that lingered. “I just know that rough sex is not the way to fix a broken heart. You needed to be made love to and if people heard, well then…fuck them. We don’t have to deal with them again after this. What these people say to you just aren’t true and you deserve so much better.”

“Well, Maggie will probably have to get her things from your apartment and Glenn with mine since he does live with me,” she acknowledged realizing how awkward that was actually going to be when the time came.

“I can send Maggie her shit,” Negan suggested with a bounce of his eyebrows. After last night, Negan was not stressing about things as much as Y/N was. Things were done and cleared as far as he was concerned. If Maggie still wanted to be part of his life in some fashion. Alright. If she didn’t, that was okay too. He didn’t care what everyone else thought. “And with Glenn, I can go over if you need me to. Hell, you can just give him the apartment because you can move in with me. That’s the plan anyways.”

“I haven’t even seen your apartment yet,” she pointed out with a laugh knowing that they were just jumping right into things. “You really think it’s going to work out, don’t you?”

“I know it will,” Negan answered her giving her another quick kiss. Stepping back, he moved over toward his things again and made sure that they were packed away. “We should get going though. I have some ideas for what we can do when we get home. That way you can get settled in better.”

“All of my stuff is by the door ready to go,” she reminded him, heading over toward the bed to sit down on the edge of it. Bracing her hands back on the bed, she looked up at the decorations she did for Negan at the start of this trip and observed the room. “I’m taking everything in. This will be the last time I see this place.”

“Your room and this room is definitely something I will always have fond memories of,” Negan snickered, shooting her a glance back over his shoulder. “Oh man. And the barn. I’m serious about the two of us getting a farm together after we get married. Just so we can recreate that little session we had in the barn. Your father would shit his pants if he knew what we did in there.”

“Yes, he would,” she agreed with Negan, a smile tugging at her lips. “Good. He deserves to get angry over the shit he has pulled.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan slurred, standing up from the ground to pull his things over toward the stairs. Snapping his fingers, Negan headed back for the bed to grab his backpack that was sitting on it, letting out a frustrated sound when the things fell out of it. “Make sure that fucking thing is zipped up before you fucking grab it Negan.”

“Talking to yourself is a pretty solid thing,” she teased him, lowering down to help him pick up the odds and ends that had fallen out of his backpack. Reaching for the thing that had slid under the bed, she felt her heart skip a beat when she realized that it was a jewelry box. Kneeling back, she opened the box and let out a hesitant sound when she saw that it was an engagement ring inside. “Negan?”

“What?” Negan’s smile was big when he lifted his head, his eyebrows bouncing up in an arrogant motion until he realized what she was looking at. The color drained from his face when he attempted to grab it. “Hey…”

“Was this for Maggie?” Y/N inquired, her somewhat happy expression turning to confusion when she observed the ring closely.

“It’s complicated,” Negan went to reach for the box, but she pulled it back and away from him. A sense of panic flooded his veins when Y/N stood up from the ground and headed over toward the corner of the room with a chill flooding down her spine. “I can explain.”

“Go for it Negan because I know it’s not for me. You told me clearly the other day that we were going to get a ring when we went back to New York, so why don’t you explain this for me?” she couldn’t take her eyes off the ring feeling her heart hammering in her chest. Her limbs went numb and hot. It felt like the room was spinning around her. “You always stressed to me that things weren’t very serious with Maggie, Negan. So why the hell do you have an engagement ring in your backpack?”

“I bought it weeks ago,” Negan reasoned with her, stepping forward and placing his hands together in attempts to get her to look at him. “Maggie kept talking about wanting to get married. She wouldn’t stop talking about it. So I got confused…”

“You were going to ask Maggie to marry you on this trip?” she pushed for information watching Negan’s head tip from side to side. “You told me it wasn’t that serious Negan. You repeated multiple times that you two weren’t even living together so I had nothing to worry about. And you have an engagement ring for her?”

“Now hold on a minute,” Negan requested, his voice getting raspier when she snapped the box closed. Damn, he should have hid this fucking ring better. Both Beau and Y/N got upset by it, even knowing that there were no plans to actually give it to Maggie. “This was before anything happened with you. Okay? I bought the ring, I considered asking because I knew I hated being alone. Maggie was getting antsy and I don’t know. It was a buy that I regretted the moment that I did it. The box sat in my top drawer the whole time. When we were packing to come here, I was looking at it and Beau came into the room. I panicked and I shoved it into my bag. I didn’t really consider asking Maggie to marry me after the moment we spent together.”

“That’s bullshit Negan. You wouldn’t have been looking at it if you weren’t considering it,” she countered hearing a breath catch in Negan’s throat. “You threw all that shit on me when we first slept together about how we were meant to be together and you still brought an engagement ring just in case.”

“Y/N, come on,” Negan snickered finding himself uncomfortable that she was getting so upset with things. “What’s going on here? Yes, I bought her a ring before the two of us were together. Yes, I considered asking her to marry me here before we got together. But right now, we’re broken up and I’m ready to start my life with you. I want to be with you.”

“It means that you were in love with Maggie. Like genuinely, full-fledged in love with Maggie,” her words were coming out broken, tears burning at her eyes when she thought about everything that her father said the night before. “Hershel was right. Maggie was always the perfect one.”

“No. No she wasn’t,” Negan noticed that she was picking up on the insecurities of the things that her father had said. “I did it because I was afraid of being alone. Not because I thought Maggie was the love of my life Y/N. It’s because she was acting like she was going to run and I got worried.”

“Which means you were scared of losing her,” she repeated having Negan let out a confused sound. “God, I just confused you Negan. You were in love with Maggie and this ring says everything. You are going to realize the mistake you made. I took my sister away from a man that actually did love her. This is…”

“Hey!” Negan snapped his fingers to try to pull her thoughts back to him, his eyes narrowing when he tried to reason with her. “What does it matter Y/N? Why are you acting like this right now? You love me.”

“Of course I love you, but you were in love with my sister and I took the man that she was in love with. The man that was going to give her everything and…” she felt the guilt tearing away at her when Negan attempted to reach for her wrists. “God, I’m everything my father says I am.”

“No, no you’re not,” Negan tried to pull her to him, but she yanked away from him and he could see that she looked like she was about to be on the verge of a meltdown. “You are reading this all wrong Y/N. It doesn’t matter what I felt before I was with you. This ring, it was the same exact thing you did in your relationship with Glenn. You agreed to the things that Glenn wanted because you didn’t want to be alone. You wanted to feel close to someone, even though you knew that you didn’t love him. We’re the same. The two of us are exactly the same. If you take a moment to really think about it. You will see that.”

Anxiety and her fears were clouding her judgement. Negan could see that in her eyes and her expressions, “That night we first got together, I had no idea you were related to Maggie and I knew that I wanted to be with you. You are this close to having everything you’ve ever wanted and deserved. Don’t let your family ruin this for you.”

“I’m ruining the perfect life for my sister in order to be greedy. Sooner or later you are going to realize that Maggie is the one that you want to be with,” she insisted with a whimper going to step back, but Negan shook his head, his facial expression becoming stern. “I can’t do this Negan. I’m breaking Glenn’s heart, I’m ruining my sister’s future, I’m only confusing you right now because…”

“You’re not,” Negan pulled her in closer to him trying to grasp her face in his hands to get her to focus. “I know you are going through things right now and we will get over this because we love each other. The two of us are meant to be together Y/N. You have to understand that. You’re my soulmate and…”

“Your soulmate died Negan and you just got confused because I got tangled up in your web,” she reasoned with him feeling like she could drop at any point. It felt like her face was on fire. Everything ached the more she thought about all the details of everything she had missed. “I’m no good for anyone Negan. Getting with me is just going to make things toxic and…”

“You have been in this family way too long Y/N. You’re just upset because you are here,” Negan whispered, his head pressing forward to try to rest it against hers to have her relax. “When you are away from them, you are so strong and you don’t care about anyone’s shit. But your family has a way of getting under your skin and breaking you down. You’re not the bad guy Y/N. You never have been. You were the victim and they are gaslighting you right now. You have to fucking see that. Please don’t overthink this.”

“This is a hard thing to forget Negan,” she lifted the box and Negan took it, sliding it into his back pocket. “You loved Maggie enough to want to keep her with you. Even at the office, I was the first person to make the move. I knew you were dating someone and I didn’t care. I just found you so appealing and…”

“We cheated. So fucking what?” Negan scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air when she pulled away from him. “Yes, we cheated and we had incredible sex, but we also connected on another level that I haven’t done with someone in a very long time and I fucking know you feel it too. If I loved Maggie like you are saying that I do, I would have never let what happened between the two of us happen. So please just take a minute and realize…”

“I can’t,” she frowned, turning on her heel to head down the stairs and Negan was quickly stumbling after her. “Negan. I just think I should leave on my own, okay? I have to go.”

“No. No, you’re leaving with me, Beau and Erin,” Negan claimed with apprehension in his tone, his body locking up when he followed her down to the second level. “Please, think this through. If you weren’t heart broken because of your father right now…”

When they reached the bottom, Negan stumbled over his own feet and almost fell over. Grasping a hold of Y/N’s hands before she could take off, Negan had hopes that he could appeal to her to stop her from freaking out. Before he could say anything else, the sound of a door being pulled open was heard. Gazing back, Negan rolled his eyes and cussed out when he saw that it was Glenn standing in the doorway to his bedroom holding the letter that he had obviously read and Y/N’s engagement ring.

“Motherfucker,” Negan scowled, his face scrunching up in anger. “This is just my fucking luck. Come the fuck on.”

“Can we talk about this?” Glenn ignored Negan’s frustrations, moving into the hallway with Negan still holding onto Y/N’s hands. Tugging her hands from Negan, she shook her head and shoved her hands into her pockets to keep Negan from touching her. Red flooded into her face showing the discomfort she had with Glenn running out and interrupting them. “I think this is something we really need to talk about.”

“Now is not the time buddy,” Negan warned with a huff, finally getting Glenn to notice that he was there. Anger flooded into Glenn’s brown eyes with Negan telling him what to do. “We are going through something right now and…”

“I think I can decide when it’s the right time for me to talk to my fiancée,” Glenn exploded on Negan, his voice growing louder and it made Negan step back.

“Ex fiancée,” Negan stressed that word because in his mind? Y/N was his fiancée now after what they had experienced together on that loop of decorations the other night.

“Excuse me?” Glenn was visibly ready to fight until the sound of another door opening followed.

“What’s going on out here?” Maggie’s surprised eyes gazed upon the commotion that was happening outside of her room. Glenn looked like he could die on the spot, but also appeared to be enraged. When her eyes fell upon the ring that was between Glenn’s fingers, she let out a gasp. Clutching the door, Maggie turned white as a ghost. “What’s happening?”

“I’m leaving,” Y/N claimed, holding her keys up in the air letting them jangle. Heading for the stairs, she was eager to make a quick escape since this situation was only getting worse. This was not how she wanted to have Glenn learn about things. She was meant to be gone by now.

“Wait!” Negan snapped following her down, but he wasn’t the only one. Maggie and Glenn were on his tail which only irritated Negan more. Once she got downstairs, Y/N grabbed her things and she was quick to make it to the door. Heading toward the car, she threw her things in the trunk and they were all outside with her. “You are rushing this without thinking.”

“All I’ve had is time to think Negan,” she vented letting out an upset breath with Glenn and Maggie approaching them.

“I still don’t understand what the hell is going on,” Maggie demanded some kind of an answer, throwing her hands up in the air trying to get everyone to pay attention to her in the moment. “Why the hell is Y/N leaving? What is going on? Someone needs to start giving me some answers.”

“She wrote me a letter breaking up with me and she gave me the ring back,” Glenn informed Maggie, fear in his voice when they stood in front of the car door not allowing Y/N to leave. At this moment Y/N was both annoyed and infuriated. This was embarrassing that it came to this. Glenn shifted on his feet, his shoulders shrugging when he spoke in a whisper. “Are you leaving because of us?”

“Glenn!” Maggie scolded Glenn in something close to a whisper.

“Because of you?” she repeated, looking between Maggie and Glenn. Both of them looked like they could die on the spot with her questioning Glenn’s response.

“What’s going on?” Hershel called out from the steps and Negan’s overwhelmed growl of frustration filled the air. With her father bringing the attention to him, it allowed them to see that not only was Hershel out there with them, but so was Shawn, Annette and Beth who had obviously all heard the commotion of their bickering. “Do you all know what time it is? You’re out here screaming at one another.”

“What the hell is going on right now?” Y/N let out an uncomfortable laugh noticing the guilty features over both Glenn and Maggie’s faces. Having Hershel ask that question too was also borderline amusing. Pointing between Glenn and Maggie had them turning their eyes back to her instead of her family. “You want to know why I’m leaving? I’m leaving because Hershel requested me be gone in the morning.”

“And we’re going with her!” Negan spoke up, his tone determined when Y/N spun on her heel to glare back at him. Waving his hand about, Negan wanted to make sure he made everyone aware of what their original plan was together. “Beau, Erin and I are going with Y/N. We’re all going back to the city. Back home.”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N bickered in frustration trying to pull away from Negan when he attempted to touch her arm again. “I’m going alone.”

“Give me a fucking break Y/N,” Negan begged of her, sadness behind his eyes that she was having a breakdown of this caliber. “You know this is what we planned. It’s what we’ve had planned all along. Don’t let your father ruin this for you. Your father asking you to leave only sped up this plan by two days.”

“Daddy asked you to leave?” Maggie wondered looking back over her shoulder at Hershel who had his hands buried in his pockets from where he was standing on the porch. It was like Maggie was completely ignoring the things that Negan had said to Y/N. “Why?”

“He demanded me to leave. Told me he wants nothing to do with me and I plan on giving it to him,” Y/N answered and the sound of Annette getting upset from Y/N’s confession was heard. Refusing to look at the rest of her family, Y/N bit back on her emotions and gave a simple nod. Having her eyes locked on Maggie’s made sure that she had her full attention with Maggie. “You should feel so good though Maggie because he let me know that you are better than me in every way. Negan sees it. He sees it. Glenn sees it. Apparently, everyone knows that I’m trash and you’re better than me.”

“Why does that whole statement feel like you are angry with me?” Maggie was offended that it felt like Y/N was mad with her over the things that Hershel undoubtedly said the night before. “It’s not my fault that daddy is the way that he is with you. It never was,” Maggie asserted herself and there was fury in her green eyes when she spoke. “I told you last night that talking to him about your mother was going to end up with you in pain. It was going to ruin things. I asked you not to do it.”

“I tried listening to you,” Y/N reminded her of how she tried to leave with Maggie, but Hershel trapped her in the kitchen. Maggie was there, she knew that it took a while for Hershel to force Maggie away. “I didn’t get an answer anyways. I was just reminded again about how imperfect I was. How awful I am. I know it’s not your fault Maggie, you really are perfect. And I know that.”

“No she’s not,” Negan threw his hand up in the air drawing Maggie’s eyebrows to bounce up. “No one is fucking perfect and certainly not Maggie.”

“What the fuck Negan?” Maggie scowled at her ex-lover when Negan shot her a glare and his hands found his way to his hips.

“No one is perfect,” Annette tried making her way down the steps to get everyone to calm down. “I don’t know what happened, but we should probably head back inside and talk things out. Your father may have said something ridiculous last night, but this is my home too and I have a say in who stays and who goes.”

“I agree with her,” Negan blurt out, his hands pointing in the direction of Annette. “We are all emotional right now and I think we need to talk some things out. Rushing into decisions fueled on confusion and anger will only hurt people more.”

“Wait, I’m really having a hard time understanding…” Glenn pushed forward into the group still holding onto the letter and the ring that Y/N had left behind for him. “If you don’t know about Maggie and me, then why did you break off the engagement and want to leave without me?”

“Come again?” Y/N stammered, her lips parting when everyone in the group went silent. Turning toward Maggie, Y/N let out a hesitant laugh and looked to Glenn. “What do you mean about you and Maggie?”

“Listen,” Maggie held her hands up in a pleading motion to try to calm the situation. “There is an explanation here.”

“I’m all fucking ears Maggie,” Y/N chided, her hands curling up into fists at her sides when she felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. “What explanation is that?”

“I was spending a lot of time with Glenn because there was always things going on. And we started really enjoying being around each other,” Maggie slowly spoke out, her hands gradually raising up to try to hint for Y/N to keep calm. “One thing led to another and we ended up…sleeping together.”

“Good lord,” Hershel scoffed from where he was standing on the porch, lowering down to bury his head into his hands when he listened to the drama that was going on in his family. Everyone made some kind of noise in response to what Maggie had said aloud.

“It was an accident and we didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did,” Maggie explained to her sister drawing a laugh from Negan’s lips when he looked to Glenn with a shocked expression. “We just realized that we had so much in common and I know that he’s your fiancé, but things just happened and we wish we could have changed it, but we can’t.”

“Glenn?” Negan repeated pointing toward Y/N’s fiancé letting out an amused breath. Cutting through the anger with his laughter had others looking to him confused. “Fucking hell Glenn, you were supposed to be the good one between the two of us.”

“I’m not a bad guy,” Glenn claimed, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. This was not a situation Glenn was comfortable in and he hated being the center of attention with all eyes on him. “I kept trying to tell Y/N yesterday about things, but I just…”

“Got interrupted,” Y/N finished looking to Maggie knowing that Glenn was on the verge of telling her something last night, but Maggie stopped him abruptly. “So it was just the one time? That’s what you are trying to tell me here? That’s it? Nothing more between you because you realized it was a mistake?”

There was a silence that followed causing Y/N to let out a stressed sound and shake her head, “That’s a no.”

“You obviously don’t like good sex,” Negan commented getting a frustrated expression from Glenn and Maggie threw her hand up in the air. “Come on Maggie, Glenn was a virgin when he got with Y/N. You really think I’m supposed to believe that he’s a good lay? That tells me you definitely fell for the personality because a sex god Glenn is not.”

“You told him I was a virgin?” Glenn seemed upset when he turned to look at Y/N with upset in his eyes. “That’s not something you should be telling someone Y/N.”

“I told her too,” Y/N stated looking to Maggie who seemed like she was about to drop from all of this happening. “I don’t know if she knew before you slept with her or after, but she knew that you were a virgin too.”

“That doesn’t make things better,” Glenn fought back, the color growing more vibrant in his face. “I told you I was a virgin because I didn’t want to make things bad for you. Telling everyone about it makes it seem like I’m horrible at sex.”

“It’s not always about the sex Negan,” Maggie looked to her ex-lover hearing Negan let out a laugh. Folding his arms in front of his chest, Negan was amused to hear this shit coming from Maggie. “Sometimes it’s about connecting with someone on a level that you may not understand, but it’s there. That’s what happened with us. We were just connecting and things happened. It doesn’t have to be good sex for it to happen more than once.”

“Are you saying I’m not good at sex?” Glenn huffed, turning to look at Maggie. There was a silence between all of them and Negan gave a tip of his head. “I’m not bad at it. I thought you enjoyed it with all the times it happened.”

“All the times it happened?” Y/N chuckled repeating the words of Glenn which only worried Maggie more. Glenn seemed more upset that Maggie said he was bad at sex than he seemed upset over what was actually going on here right now.

“Don’t worry bud, with more practice you are bound to get better. Hopefully,” Negan mocked Glenn, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder firmly. Shoving Negan’s hand away had the two girls groaning out in disgust over the two men’s reaction. “I’m just trying to be positive here.”

“By mocking me?” Glenn went to bicker with Negan further and it only had Negan chuckling in amusement.

“Not everyone is good at sex Glenn, some people have it,” Negan started, pointing toward his chest before pointing back to Glenn, “Some people don’t. That doesn’t mean people aren’t going to want to be with you.”

“I can’t believe this was going on under my roof,” Hershel seemed overwhelmed while he rubbed at his face. A loud sigh followed when Annette moved in beside Y/N to get her to try to calm down. Moving closer to the group of them, it was obvious Glenn looked like he was about to pounce on Negan for embarrassing him. Y/N looked like she was going to freak out and Maggie appeared to feel like she just wanted to disappear from the moment. Stepping in beside Glenn had Y/N’s eyes raising up to Hershel. “You see what you caused by coming back here?”

A loud exhale escaped Y/N’s lungs with how that seemed directed at her, “What I caused?” Y/N snapped back at Hershel, a rage flooding through her veins. Pushing through the crowd and toward her father had Annette trying to reach out to her. “Maggie fucks my fiancé under your roof and I’m the problem? I caused this?”

“I told you,” Hershel advanced toward her, shaking his head when he looked to Maggie and Glenn, “you would have known last night if you would have just listened. Anyone with eyes could see the boy was smitten with Maggie. When it comes to you and your sister, people are always going to pick your sister.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Negan called out from where he was standing, attempting to move forward, but Y/N placed her hand in over the center of his chest to get him to stop before he could get in Hershel’s face.

“This is the second time that Maggie has done this to me,” Y/N reminded her father, her tone getting even more upset hearing her father defending what happened with Maggie and Glenn. “First, she did it with Shane and that fucking destroyed me. I was just a teenager dad. And then she does this with my fiancé and it’s my fault? How did I cause this?”

“Maybe if you spent more time on him and less on worrying about me, it might have not actually happened,” Hershel grumbled under his breath and he knew what it was going to do to Y/N with tears burning at her eyes. “You were so damn busy focusing on hating me that you allowed the two of them to spend time together. Can you blame the boy for falling in love with your sister?”

“I don’t know if you genuinely believe you’re a decent fucking person, but you’re a vile piece of shit,” Negan spat trying to get around Y/N, but she did her best to keep the two of them separated. “Who the hell says this kind of shit to their own child? No wonder she feels so shitty about herself with the way that you talk to her. You deserve to be knocked on your ass old man.”

“Negan, please…” Y/N begged doing her best to keep Negan from getting himself in trouble. “I can handle this myself.”

It took Y/N touching his face to pull his attention away from Hershel. Behind his angry hazel eyes, Negan obeyed when she asked him to stop. Even though he wanted to rip this fucker limb from limb, he allowed her to take control of the conversation.

“I don’t even love Glenn, but to hear that coming from your mouth is so fucked up,” Y/N declared, her voice breaking from all the yelling and upset that was going on between them. “You have no idea what you do to my self-esteem Hershel.”

“You didn’t love me?” Glenn spoke in a whisper instead of Hershel responding to Y/N. It wasn’t the person that she wanted to talk to, but it pulled her to look away from her father toward Glenn. Lowering the letter and the ring down at his sides, Glenn visibly looked upset to hear that.

“Why are you acting upset? You didn’t seem to care when the two of us were together? Yet all of a sudden last night you have a change of heart?” Maggie pushed finding herself fed up with the way that Glenn was responding to things. “You told me that you loved me.”

“I love how this was sold as a mistake and now the two of you love each other,” Y/N shook her head with disappointment behind her voice. “Is it real this time Maggie or was it your attempt to actually upset me again for something I’m sure I’ve done to scorn you?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you Y/N,” Maggie suggested throwing her hands up in the air. It was horrible that her whole family was hearing all of this. “What happened with Shane was me being an awful person. I did terrible things back then and I know that. I want us to be close again Y/N. I wanted things to go right. Having this happen with Glenn was the last thing I wanted.”

“Now Maggie has two men fighting over her and then there is you,” Hershel waved his hand in the air pointing over toward the car. “Weren’t you leaving?”

“Okay old man fucking river,” Negan couldn’t hold it in any longer stepping forward, urging Y/N behind him in a protective stance. “I have had it up to here with your fucking nonsense with the way that you treat Y/N. If you weren’t so fucking old, I would knock you on your ass and I’m still considering doing it. I don’t know what the hell is wrong inside of you that makes you want to treat one of your children, one of your own flesh in blood like you do, but you are one sick son of a bitch. And I’m not fighting anyone for Maggie because Maggie and I broke up last night. Reason being, she told me she cheated on me and I told her I was doing the same. And you know what? I’m head over fucking heels in love with your daughter and it’s not Maggie. It’s Y/N and I’ve had it up to fucking here with the way you treat her.”

Again, every person in the crowd made a sound that was either shocked or upset, but Negan didn’t give a shit what they thought.

“Hello Jerry Springer,” Shawn whispered heading over toward the swing that was on the porch to take a seat on it knowing that this was only going to go south from here on out.

“I really don’t care what you fucking think of it either. Y/N is perfect in every way fucking possible and because of you she can’t fucking see it,” Negan was already so upset that Y/N was so prepared to leave since Hershel left her with some terrible thoughts last night. “All I want to do is be with her and she’s so goddamn focused on the horrible shit that you say to her.”

Everyone still seemed so shocked about the truth that he dropped, but Negan just felt his anger building up further inside of him, “Since you’re so big on fucking rules Hersh, I fucked your daughter in your house so many fucking times. We did it in the barn. We did it in her bedroom. We did it in the attic. Both your daughters have called me daddy Hersh. And you know what? I’m a better daddy to both of them than you ever will be. At least I made them feel fucking good. You on the other hand are a miserable piece of shit.”

A gasp fell from Maggie’s throat when Hershel’s face grew red, his breathing growing stronger. There was silence and it was broken up by Beth letting out an amused chuckle, “Holy shit.”

“You’ve been sleeping with Negan?” Maggie called out from behind them getting Y/N’s attention. Hershel had stepped back and away into the house when Maggie approached the two of them. Looking to Negan, Maggie pointed over toward Y/N noticing the way that Negan nodded. Maggie lifted her hand like she was going to speak before turning to quickly bring her knee into Negan’s groin. A groan filtered through the air when Negan fell forward into the snow, his hands clasping onto himself. “That’s really low Y/N.”

“Maggie!” Annette chastised her stepdaughter for what she did to Negan who was down on the ground in pain.

“What I did is low?” Y/N lowered down in attempts to check on Negan with his face buried in the snow. His face was red and the vein at the side of his neck was bulging after how hard Maggie kneed him. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. You slept with my fiancé. I slept with Negan the night before we came here. I didn’t even know he was your boyfriend when the two of us slept together the first time.”

“Bullshit Y/N! This is because of what I did with Shane. You slept with Negan to get back at me for the stuff with Shane,” Maggie insisted which in follow had Y/N rolling her eyes. “You know that I’m right. You always held that Shane shit over my head, so when you had the chance to get your nails into my boyfriend…”

“You have no fucking right to be saying this when you were sleeping with my fiancé,” Y/N corrected Maggie on the way that she was acting, amusement flooding her veins at the thought. “I knew you would pull the Shane thing over me. I should have seen this coming a mile away. I actually did. I told Negan I had to break it off with him originally because I knew it was the way that you would react.”

“Because it’s fucking true,” Maggie bickered with her younger sister while Negan continued to lay between the two of them after Y/N slowly got up to stare down her sister. “There is no other reason for it.”

“I had no idea that Negan was your boyfriend. We were alone at the Christmas party for our work. We got to talking and then we got intimate with one another,” Y/N thought back on what happened with her and Negan. Lifting his hand up, Negan reached for Y/N’s hand and she helped him back up to his feet. Negan’s hand was cupped firmly over his groin holding himself and Maggie scoffed. “I didn’t know he was your boyfriend Maggie because you refused to be in my life over something that Hershel did when we were kids. If you actually tried to stay in contact with me, then this would have never happened. I was just so in love with Negan that I couldn’t stop what we started before we knew you two were together. I’ve never felt for anyone the way that I feel for Negan. I love Negan very much.”

“And so did I,” Maggie suggested making Y/N roll her eyes. “I did.”

“You only liked being with Negan because you thought he was a good fuck and because he had a big dick,” Y/N reminded her of the things that Maggie bragged about when they were alone together about Negan. “You didn’t care about Beau, Erin or the things that made Negan tick. You just cared about whether you got off or not.”

“I am so uncomfortable right now,” Glenn whispered under his breath after what Y/N just blurt out in front of everyone.

“Good for you,” Shawn waved his hand about in the air and Annette hushed him. “Hey, if he’s got it you gotta give the man credit.”

“Shut up Shawn,” Maggie demanded of her stepbrother and he threw his hands up in the air. “It was more than that.”

“Was it though?” Negan could barely get a line out without wincing, but he shook his head. “Our relationship wasn’t that deep Maggie. You and I both know that.”

A loud booming sound went off that drew all of them to jump and they looked back to see that Hershel was standing on the porch with his shotgun in his hand, “Listen here. I’ve heard enough of all of this. You’re going to gather your things and you are going to get the hell out of here.”

“Holy shit,” Negan laughed when he realized that it was him that Hershel was pointing the shotgun at. An amused rumble fell deep from within his throat when he shook his head. “What are you gonna do Hershel? Fucking shoot me?”

“If you want your kids to still have a father, you are going to gather them and you are going to get off my property,” Hershel asserted himself, stepping down from the porch. It didn’t scare Negan that Hershel had his gun on him, instead Negan actually laughed. “I’m warning you son.”

“You’re not gonna…” Negan cussed out, stumbling backwards in the snow after Hershel shot at Negan’s feet, but ended up just missing him. “You crazy old son of a bitch.”

“Hershel!” Annette called out to her husband trying to draw him to knock it off. “What in God’s name are you thinking?”

“Daddy!” Maggie gasped attempting to try to help Negan up to get away from Hershel.

“Why the hell are you shooting at only me and not him?” Negan demanded to know, scrambling back in the snow again realizing how close he was to getting shot. “Both him and I did the same exact thing, yet I’m the one that is getting shot at?”

“Hey,” Glenn stepped back with Negan pointing back at him. “I don’t need to be getting shot at for this.”

“That would be a hate crime Negan,” Beth suggested drawing everyone to look back at her. Having all eyes on her felt uncomfortable, but they were all floored with her answer. Shrugging her shoulders, she pointed toward Glenn and shook her head. “I mean, it would be.”

“What is going on?” Beau’s voice called out from where he was standing at the door after hearing the gun go off. A sense of worry flooded his veins when he saw that Hershel pointed the shotgun back at Negan again. “Erin is upstairs! What in the world are you doing Mr. Greene?”

“You get up there and you grab your things! Leave!” Hershel demanded only to feel Y/N reaching for the gun. Fighting with her father, she finally got it from his hands and heard Hershel releasing a frustrated growl.

“Hey! Hey!” Beau moved forward on the steps, holding his hands out. “How could all of you be doing this when Y/N is pregnant? The stress and getting physical with her won’t be good for the baby! You need to stop this right now!”

“The baby?” Maggie repeated with a sense of shock and even Y/N’s eyes got big. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant?” Y/N questioned looking to Negan with a confused expression and Negan half laughed.

“He took the whole trying for a baby thing very seriously,” Negan answered Y/N when Shawn came over to reach for the gun in hopes of taking it away. When Shawn disappeared back into the house to put the shotgun away it made Maggie let out another upset sound.

“You two are trying for a baby?” Maggie couldn’t help but be upset hearing all of that. “Please tell me that you are joking. We broke up last night!”

“Come on Maggie, we’ve been on the offs for a long time,” Negan reasoned with her knowing that it all sounded bad, but it was just how things were. “Yes, we want to have a baby together. Yes, we are trying for a baby and we are engaged. We are going to get married on New Years.”

“How are you engaged when we were engaged?” Glenn still seemed so confused by everything watching Y/N lower her head into her hand. “I don’t understand how the two of you are planning this future together when you were engaged to me.”

“Because she didn’t love you,” Negan answered for her, finally getting up and wiping his hands off on his pants. “And I really don’t think you have a right to be offended there Glenn. You and Maggie cheated as well. Acting so surprised isn’t a good look for you.”

“I can see why Hershel shot at you,” Glenn hissed, stepping forward in the snow to push into Negan’s chest.

“Enough!” Y/N screamed out, finally tipping her head back and letting out an overwhelmed sound. With so much bickering, she couldn’t help but think this was genuinely all her fault for causing all of this drama. “You all need to just stop this shit. You want to know why Negan is the one being shot at?” Y/N turned to her father feeling her heart hammering inside of her chest. “You might think it’s because Negan is disrespectful. No. That’s not it. And it can’t be because he slept with both of Hershel’s daughters. Hell, Glenn did the same thing. Glenn even had sex with Maggie under the same roof which Hershel acted like that was sacrilegious to do. The thing is the reason that Hershel shot at Negan is because Negan cheated on his sweet, sweet Maggie. It has nothing to do with the fact that Negan and I got intimate all over the place. It’s not because Negan says it like it is. It’s because Negan fell in love with me and he dumped Maggie.”

A silence fell over all of them when she called Hershel out for his behavior. And when they thought about it, it did actually make sense what she was saying, “Come on Hershel. Tell me that I’m wrong. When you found out that Glenn slept with Maggie, you told me that it was my own fault. That I deserved it. You didn’t get upset with him for cheating on your middle child. You shot at Negan because he cheated on your favorite.”

“Wow,” Glenn muttered, his words coming out quietly when he actually thought about what Y/N was saying. “Mr. Greene, I did do the same thing that Negan did. It may even be worse what I did because I was engaged to Y/N.”

“Are you asking me to pull the shotgun out on you son?” Hershel questioned, his gaze locking with Glenn who shifted on his feet uneasily. “Then don’t speak up.”

“Yeah, how dare Glenn make a good point. How dare he have the common sense to add two and two together,” Y/N went off on her father feeling her body shaking with how upset she was. Hershel’s face was red and he was saying nothing. “Glenn was engaged to me and he found love with Maggie. Which hey, good for them. I’m glad for them. I find love with Maggie’s boyfriend, not knowing that he was Maggie’s boyfriend and suddenly we are the ones that are wrong? This only confirms everything I’ve said with the way that you are with me.”

No one said a thing and Y/N sighed loudly knowing that her father would never admit to the things that he did that were in a negative light toward her.

“Daddy,” Maggie finally spoke up, folding her arms out in front of her chest. “She’s not wrong. It doesn’t look good. Negan has two children here and you did that. We broke up last night and we were just going to keep it between the two of us until after Christmas because I knew that you wouldn’t handle it well. You do have a clear bias when it comes to me.”

Hershel scoffed and Maggie sighed, “I am in the wrong daddy. Glenn was Y/N’s fiancé and I knew that. I knew what I had done in the past with Shane and how much it hurt her, but I still let it happen. If you’re mad at Negan and Y/N, you should be just as upset with me and Glenn too.”

“What’s really sad is that I’m head over heels in love with that man,” Y/N declared, her words coming out shaken when she pointed to Negan. “When I’m with Negan and his family it is the only time I’ve ever felt seen and loved in my life. And I love his children too. Beau, he’s the most incredible boy I’ve ever met and he has the biggest heart.”

“Then let’s leave,” Beau spoke up, moving down the stairs toward Y/N seeing that she was getting emotional. “We can all leave together. We don’t have to be here. Let’s just go.”

“Beau, your father loved Maggie before I got involved with him,” she insisted feeling Negan moving in behind her to try to touch her and she shook her head. “More than anything, I want to be with you and your family Negan. I do. But I know better. I have to leave.”

“Please don’t do this,” Negan begged, his expressive eyebrows furrowing when he tried following her toward the car that she had already packed to leave. “You’re emotional right now and you just don’t know what you are doing.”

“I know what I’m doing Negan,” she frowned, shaking her head and letting out a long sigh. “I’m doing what’s right.”

“Please,” Beau reached for her this time instead of Negan, his young features visibly upset with what was going on. “Just wait for me and Erin to get our things out here. Then we can leave. You don’t have to run away. We aren’t like your family.”

“Beau,” she whispered, stepping forward to brush her fingers throughout Negan’s son’s hair. “You were the best part about this whole trip. I’ve loved every minute that I’ve gotten to spend with you because you are awesome. I’ve never met someone so talented and capable of so much at such a young age. You have the biggest heart and you stand up for what is right. Your mother and your father raised you to be such an incredible boy and I know things are going to be good for you in the future because you are amazing Beau. You really are. But my father isn’t wrong.”

Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around Beau and gave him a big hug, squeezing him tightly in her arms, “I ruin everything. If I was in your life, I would somehow end up destroying your life like I have everyone’s here. In a perfect life, I could be part of your family, but I’m far from perfect,” she stepped back and away, tears still burning at her eyes when she reached for the door to her car. “Thank you for being the best part of these days for me.”

“Hey,” Negan attempted to reach out to her seeing that she still got in the car and wasted no time in pulling away. Beau stood beside him upset, not sure how to react and Negan’s hands found their way to his hips where they rested. Silence surrounded them and right now all Negan felt was anger. Anger toward these people that they all had a hand in breaking apart one of the most amazing women he had ever known. Finally moving, he stepped before Hershel and there was still anger in Hershel’s eyes from everything that went down. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

There was no response. That was a shock.

“Go get your things and grab your sister,” Negan instructed looking back at Beau with a frown. “We’re leaving.”

----

Digging through the drawers in her office at work, Y/N continued to grab a few more things that were personal items. After packing them into the boxes that she brought with her, she leaned back in her chair and took a look at her office. Once she made it back to New York City, she tried going home to her apartment, but her mind was still going crazy. Lingering thoughts built up inside of her and it led her to come to work. Most people weren’t here because it was Christmas Eve. There were still a few people that came in to finish some things, but she was thankful that she would be left alone for the most part. Right now, what she needed to be was left alone.

If you would have told her when she was younger that she would have been one of the top people at an advertising agency in New York City, she would have never believed it. This right here was everything that she dreamt of growing up. When she was younger, New York City was the one place that her and Maggie used to always talk about. It was the one place she longed for the most because it meant she finally made it. It meant that her art wasn’t a waste of time and everything she did to get here was worth it.

Even her office was a dream come true for anyone. It the corner office is one of the taller buildings in New York City. Two walls of her office were large windows that gave a stunning view of the city and it was part of what she loved about her job here. The views were stunning and always inspiring.

When Y/N left home and finished college, she just went to the nearest city and worked her way up. So when she got a call from a rival agency in New York City it almost didn’t seem true. Convincing Glenn to go with her at the time was hard. Their original home was near his family, but he wanted to be with her. If Glenn hadn’t found love with Maggie, it might have made her feel guilty that she ended up dumping him, but it seemed like she helped him find something more anyways.

Outstretching her hand, Y/N grabbed a photo that was on her desk of their group at the company. When she got to the company, everyone was very welcoming to her. Back then, the people that were on Negan’s team were originally uneasy with her because they thought Negan would be the one in charge. It reminded her of how she treated Negan at first, always giving him a hard time. It was hard being a woman in charge considering most men never liked it. Even though Negan was always good with her, when she thought back on things, she realized that she definitely could have been better with Negan herself. It was surprising that Negan fell so hard for her because she knew that she could have been better to him from the start.

Before all of this, she knew that this was the job that Negan wanted more than anything. And at the moment? That ate away at her. She stole this job out from under Negan. For years Negan worked at this company and helped build it up to what it was today. Yet, given the chance to jumped right into this position and took it from him. There were no questions that this job really should have gone to Negan. Those in charge just wanted to prove something when they were able to steal her away from their rival company.

“You need help with anything?” a voice beckoned her from her thoughts drawing her to look to the door to see Simon standing there. “I’m going to head out and go be with the family, but I wanted to make sure that you were good before I left.”

“I’m fine Simon. Go be with your family,” she waved her hand in the air dismissively. It was obvious that Simon was curious as to why she was in her office packing things up, but he never questioned it. He just let do her thing and she appreciate that he left her alone.

“Are you sure?” Simon offered up a final time pointing back toward the rest of the open office area. “I can grab you a coffee or a dessert or something? I brought in a yule log that my wife made. It’s really good.”

“I think I’m good Simon, thank you though,” she appreciated that he was trying with her, but she almost assumed that he wanted her to unload on him and right now she wasn’t even sure what she was doing for the most part. “I want you to have a good holiday with your family.”

“Yes boss,” Simon gave a wink and tapped his hand against the doorframe before stepping back. For a moment he lingered and it looked like wanted to say something, but instead he pulled his jacket on and left.

It was weird having Simon being so nice to her since he was one of the people that hated her at first. And she didn’t blame him. His team was originally destined to take over at this part of the company, but then he had to remain where he was.

Getting up from her chair, she headed over toward the corner of her office so she could look out at the city. There were so many things running through her mind and she wished that things would be easier than they were.

The sound of her office door closing was heard and she sighed to herself, “I appreciate what you are trying to do Simon, but I really wish you would just go home to your family.”

“While I would love to go home to my family, I was hoping that you would be willing to talk,” that familiar raspy voice responded causing her heart to sink, a sharp exhale falling from her lungs. Lowering her head, she immediately knew who it was and she let out an uneasy sound. Footsteps approaching her made her cuss to herself when a warmth pressed in behind her. “What are you doing Y/N?”

“I’m packing up my things,” she responded, closing her eyes and wishing that he wouldn’t have come here and found her. “This job should have gone to you Negan. It was always yours and I stole it from you. I’m going to quit and suggest that they give you this job. You’re the one that should have had this whole time anyways. Everyone here respects you and knows that it should have gone to you.”

“Did you already quit?” Negan wondered, stepping in behind her when she finally turned to face him. It was obvious that she had been crying most of the day and she likely looked like shit. “Did you?”

“Not yet. I was going to wait until after Christmas. I was just packing things up to make it easier,” she explained looking to the boxes that were on her desk. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you,” Negan stammered, his long eyelashes fluttering before he moved over toward her desk. Opening up the boxes, Negan frowned and grabbed a few items from them. Watching him start to unpack the boxes had her letting out a frustrated breath. Negan was putting everything back where it was before and it upset her. “You’re not quitting this job Y/N. I won’t let you do that.”

“I appreciate what you are doing here Negan, but you know just as well as I do that this job should have gone to you,” she didn’t know whether to stop him or not while he continued to return her things to where they were previously. “You know that you are better in this position anyways. The people respect you, you do better work…”

“No,” Negan shook his head, ignoring what she was saying because he thought it was bullshit anyways. “You see, I like the position that I have. I like my boss and I think I’ve been the most productive I’ve been in a very long time because you and me? We make a good team. So no, you aren’t quitting because you belong here. You have always belonged here.”

“Please stop,” she begged of him when Negan finished up with the items and stacked the empty boxes to place them near the door. She wasn’t fighting him. Her body was just frozen when he stepped before her, his hazel eyes full of emotion while he looked her over. “You know just as much as I do how much you wanted this job.”

“Yeah, I wanted this job,” Negan agreed with her sucking at his bottom lip and shrugging his shoulders. “But you got this job and I realized how much I genuinely liked working with you. Trust me. We’re better together than we would be apart. I’m comfortable where I am at this place. And I don’t want it to change. This company is the best it has been in years because of us being a team and working together.”

“Negan,” she lowered her head when Negan stepped forward, his hand lifting so he could stroke his fingers in over the side of her face.

“I’m doing what you deserve,” she protested and she genuinely believed it. “I’m just going to move back to the old city that I was in and see if…”

“If you quit, I quit,” Negan vowed drawing a scoff to fall from her lips. “I don’t want to be here if you aren’t here. So if you’re thinking of leaving this place, then they are going to lose me too because I don’t want to be somewhere you aren’t.”

“Negan,” she frowned hating to hear him say that, but when she lifted her eyes, she knew that he was being serious. Here she was trying to make things better for him and give him what he wanted originally and he was giving her shit. “You’re being stubborn.”

“I am fucking stubborn,” Negan threw his hands up in the air and shrugged his shoulders. “We know that. We’ve know that for a long time now. But I don’t want to be somewhere you aren’t. So unless you want me to leave this place to…”

“You love this job,” she reminded him, a shuddering breath falling from her throat when cupped her face in his hands. “You really love this job.”

“I love you more,” Negan countered, his eyes falling up on her lips when he gave a simple shrug. “I don’t want to be here if you’re not going to be the person in charge because I’ve grown to enjoy where I am in the company. I don’t want it to change. I know the two of us make a good team. Like I said, we’re better together than we are apart.”

“We won’t be able to work together after everything,” she suggested hating that the warmth of his hands comforted her while he stroked over her face in attempts to calm her. “I don’t even know how you knew that I was here…”

“I have my ways,” Negan responded with a long sigh when she turned away from him and headed over toward the window to look out at the city.

“In other words, it was Simon,” she thought aloud knowing that he was the only person that could have told Negan that she was here.

“You know,” Negan began, his voice sounding sad when she gazed out at the city. “I wish you wouldn’t have run off like you did.”

“It was better for everyone that I did,” she claimed still feeling incredibly emotional about everything that happened back at the farm. “I was just going to make things worse and it was going to cause more fighting. It was better that I left.”

“Me and the kids left immediately after too,” Negan informed her stepping forward to caress in over her shoulders. Even though he knew she was upset and she was confused about how she felt with things, he wanted to show her that he was still supportive of her. “I don’t think you realize how much me and the kids do actually love you.”

“I hear you,” she whispered, shaking her head when the warmth of Negan’s body pressed in closer to hers. It was never a question of if they loved her or not. She knew that they loved her. They showed it in their actions and their words. It was just the truth that she knew about herself that kept her from them. “The problem is exactly what I said though Negan. I have so much baggage and I’m a mess…”

“As do I,” Negan reminded her, tipping down to nuzzle his nose in against the side of her neck. God, she hated that her body loved him as much as it did. Even the smallest things he did had chills filling her veins. “I’m a fucking asshole who pisses everyone off. I have loads of baggage that comes with being with me so it shouldn’t bother you. Your baggage is something I’m very willing to take on and help carry with you. Because I love you.”

There was so much that she wanted to say, but she just couldn’t. Instead she stayed in front of the window with Negan wrapping his arms around her to hold her tightly in his grasps, “I fucking love you so much. I understand that you are a broken. I’m broken too, but for the first time in a very long time I feel whole again. And it’s when I’m with you.”

Urging her to turn in his arms, Negan brushed her hair back behind her ear and shook his head, “I know why you feel the way you do and I understand everything being overwhelming. Your family is overwhelming and they have trained you to always blame yourself. To always feel bad about who you are, but I like who you are. I love you. I love everything about you. Waking up with you in my arms over the last few days has been the best possible thing I could think of because it’s the one time that I truly feel alive. Where my heart finally feels like it’s beating again. I always felt cold to everything, but with you, I feel that warmth again.”

Having Negan confess his love to her in this situation had her crying. After everything that happened, he was still doing his best to try to convince her of his love.

“You are beautiful. You are sweet. And you hold my heart in your hand. Everything I am is yours,” Negan peppered kisses over her face with every word he spoke drawing her body to shake. “I meant what I said when I told you that if I couldn’t be with you, it would fucking destroy me.”

“I know that’s what you think Negan, but being with me would be worse for you than being apart from me,” she tried to suggest and the expression that he gave her showed that he felt otherwise. “I’m serious Negan. It might hurt right now, but if you were with me, you would feel more pain in the long run.”

“You have a very skewed view about the woman I love,” Negan stated with a firm shake of his head, his thumb and index finger capturing her jaw to get her to look up at him. “I see you for who you really are Y/N. Not this version of yourself that your father has made you believe that you are.”

A shuddering breath fell from her throat when Negan knelt down before her on one knee, his hand grabbing a hold of hers while the other reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a jewelry box. Pulling open the top, Negan revealed a gorgeous engagement ring that took her breath away and she felt her eyes tearing over, “Erin and Beau helped me pick this one out. We all agreed it was the best one for you because it reminded us of you. Regardless of how you feel about things, you stand out to us Y/N. You are beautiful. You lighten up a room and you shine like no other when you let yourself shine.”

Holding the ring up, Negan’s dimples became more prominent with his smile expanding out over his features, “I love you with everything that I am Y/N. When I’m with you, I feel whole and when I’m not, I’m in physical fucking pain. Everything hurts when you’re gone because I love you so fucking much. I want to be the person that you come to when you’re sad. I want to be the arms that hold you when you need that comfort. I want to wake up every morning and see your face because your face makes me the happiest. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

It was quiet. Most people were gone, so it was actually scary quiet how everything was when Negan wasn’t talking, “It’s Christmas Eve Y/N. I know this ring isn’t as sweet as our previous one, but I think it was perfect for you. Y/N, will you make me the happiest fucking man alive and do me the honor of marrying me?”

A whimpering breath escaped her lips. She was crying. He was crying. This was what she wanted more than anything. This was a perfect proposal in a place that actually meant something to her. Yet, she didn’t answer. Lowering her head had Negan letting out an uncomfortable sound because she didn’t respond like he thought she would.

“You have can have that perfect life Y/N. We can make it, together,” Negan stroked his thumb over the top of her hand, lowering his head to try to get her eyes to connect with his. “We’ll get married on New Years. You can move in and we can start a family, together. With the four of us, we will be the thing that you always deserved. A family that loves you, that wants you happy. We can keep trying for a baby together. We can have the perfect life, all you have to do is just say yes.”

Y/N’s face scrunched up and a saddened sound fell from her throat, “I know that you are upset about what happened at your family’s home, but they are just a mess. They have been victim blaming you all along making you think you are the bad person, but you’re not. Don’t let those people determine your future and your happiness Y/N. Let me, Beau and Erin give you the love that you always deserved.”

“Negan,” she began, using her free hand to reach up to wipe at her eyes with the back of it. Call her a fool, call her what you want, but she knew that she was not what was best for Negan and his family. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Pulling her hand away from his had him letting out hurt exhale when she moved around the office to go over to the couch to sit down on the edge of it. Negan remained still in the position that he was in, his body slouched over and his hand that was holding the ring lowering down to the ground. Turning down the best proposal she would have ever likely gotten was against everything that she wanted, but she felt like saying yes would be greedy and hurt those that she actually cared for.

“You and your family deserve better than me,” she made it clear how she felt hearing Negan’s breathing loud while he braced his hands on the floor of her office. “You are a gorgeous man, with an incredible job. I know you can find better than me.”

“There is no one better than you,” Negan whispered, finally get back to his feet. When his eyes met hers, it took her breath away to see that he was actually crying. Full on crying over how this was going. “Why can’t you see how much I fucking love you? I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want to keep looking. I know how my heart feels and it loves you. It wants to be with you. No one else. Stop letting your father fucking rule your life Y/N. You aren’t the person he let you believe that you are. You found someone who loves you more than life itself. Someone who would do anything for you and they would go to the ends of the Earth to make you happy, yet you are denying yourself that happiness. Because of what some angry, old farmer said to you? I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too,” she whispered feeling the noticeable chest pain that she had because it hurt to hear Negan upset and to see him that way. “I love you so much. It’s crazy how much I love you Negan. I meant everything I said. With you is the only place I’ve ever felt like I belonged in this world…”

“Then marry me,” Negan begged one final time, a tremoring breath falling from his throat, but once again it was followed up with a shake of her head. “I don’t understand why you are doing this to yourself. To me.”

“I just can’t Negan,” she whispered, her breathing uneven when he dropped his arms down at his sides. “I can’t. I’ll consider staying at this job, but us? We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

Getting up from the couch, she stepped forward to drag her hand down over the side of Negan’s face. There was misery in his eyes when she headed for the door leaving him alone in her office. It hurt seeing him like that, but she knew deep down if she were to marry Negan, she would only give him more trouble in the future. She wanted him happy and, in her mind, the only way he could be happy is he found something better than her.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @flippittygibbitts @stickyhuesos @dilfsandmartinis

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan fanfiction #Negan x reader #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #Negan Smith #negan x you

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sissylittlefeather · 6 months

Text

This is the Story

Chapter 7

A/N: AHHHH HERE IT IS! The long-awaited moment has finally come! I really hope it was worth the wait 🤞🏽 (special thanks to @elvisfatass and @ccab for their help with ideas for this one!)

ICYMI: This is the series with Elvis in 1973 and the OC Grace Dubois, author and single mom of 6yo Wendy. Need to catch up? Here are the links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: 6k

Song:

They sleep this way for the next week and a half. And no matter how hard they try, they always wake up in the morning cuddled together in the middle of the bed.

******

On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Elvis wakes up with Grace in his arms. He's back to feeling normal, but he's hesitant to let her know that. He pulls back a bit so that they're both on their sides facing each other and looks at her while she sleeps. Her hair is wild and she has no makeup on, but by now he's used to her like this. Somehow he finds her even more beautiful this way, which is not how he normally feels at all. Still, something about her raw vulnerability in the morning makes him crazy. The last three mornings he's had to roll away from her quickly in an attempt to hide his erection. He wonders if she's noticed at all.

Today, feeling better than he has since before Halloween, he has an overwhelming impulse to touch her in a different way. His eyes wander down to her breasts and he suppresses a moan at the thought of running his thumb over her nipple. He thinks about putting his hand on her hip and pulling her close to him as he kisses her neck, waking her with the feeling of him pressed against her. He wants to make love to her more than he's ever wanted any other woman before.

He settles for brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. He's about to lean in and kiss her forehead when she stirs and opens her eyes.

"Hi." She smiles and he almost melts.

"Good morning. You want some breakfast?"

"Mmm I need a shower first." She turns over on her back and stretches. Elvis is dying to ask if he can join her, but he stops himself. She's been so kind to him while he was sick. The last thing she probably wants is for him to come on to her. He sits up, careful to keep his lap hidden with the covers. Just then she pops up in a panic.

"What day is it?!"

"It's Tuesday."

"Thanksgiving is this week!"

"Yes. It is. Why?"

"I'm supposed to go home tomorrow!" Elvis's heart sinks. He didn't realize she would be leaving.

"Home?"

"Yes. I go to my mom's house for Thanksgiving."

"Oh."

"What are you and Lisa doing?"

"Priscilla has Lisa. It's just me." He gets quiet thinking about spending the holiday alone. The mafia guys all have families to go home to.

"Come with me." He whips his head around to look at Grace. Is she serious?

"Really?" She nods.

"Yes, really. Wendy and I will leave tomorrow around noon. It's only about 6 hours in the car from here, I think." He thinks about what it would mean to meet Grace's family. And he'd have to travel without bodyguards.

"Where exactly are we going?" If it's a small enough place, he might be able to pull it off quietly.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma." He laughs, trying not to think of his character in GI Blues. He's been there before on tour and there's not much to it compared to some of the other places he's been. He could reasonably hide there. And even if he's seen, it's worth it to be with Grace.

"Well, alright then. Let's go home to Tulsa." She scoots closer to him in the bed and throws her arms around him. When she does, it changes the arrangement of the blankets, but Elvis doesn't notice as he's distracted by her pressing herself against him. When she backs up, she catches a glimpse of him and gasps. He quickly pulls the covers back up again.

"It's just because it's the morning..." He knows it's a dumb excuse. Grace starts giggling, which might be the cutest thing he's ever heard.

"I guess someone is feeling all better."

"I had a good nurse." They look at each other for a bit and the energy between them hangs heavy in the air. He's just about to throw caution to the wind and tackle her when there's a knock on the door.

"My boy, I need to speak with you." The door opens slowly revealing the Colonel and Grace launches herself out of the bed and into the bathroom. But she's not fast enough.

"What do you want, Colonel?" Elvis is obviously perturbed.

"Tell me that was not the ghost writer."

"And if it was?"

"My boy. You can have any woman in the world, except that one. Do you think she is interested in you for anything other than a good, juicy story to publish? I can see it now: My Time With Elvis: an Exposé."

Elvis feels his face flush, first in anger and then in embarrassment. Surely, that's not her motivation?

"Not Grace. She wouldn't."

"You are too trusting. You always have been."

"Colonel, just get out. You don't know what you're talking about."

"You will see." The Colonel turns to leave and closes the door loudly behind himself. Elvis looks at the bathroom door. Grace wouldn't do that to him. She opens the door carefully.

"Were you listening to that?"

"Yes. You know I would never-"

"I know, honey." He takes a deep breath. "So we're going to Tulsa tomorrow?"

"We are. I should probably go shower." She moves toward the door of the bedroom. Elvis was hoping to pick up where they left off, but the moment has passed. He sighs as she leaves to start the day.

******

"Daddy is coming with us to Nana's house?!" Grace nods as Wendy does a little happy dance.

"Yes, so we need to hurry and get the car packed. Let's go!" After hearing the news, Wendy picks up the pace of her packing, quickly throwing dresses and shoes into her bag.

Once they get the car packed, with Wendy settled in the back seat, Grace drives to Graceland to pick Elvis up. They decided to take her car because it would be less noticeable than any of his.

Her stomach turns over as they pull up. What was she thinking, inviting him to Tulsa? This is going to be very hard to explain to her family.

When she pulls up, he comes out of the house, suitcase in hand. She thinks about yesterday morning and how there had been a moment between them right before the Colonel came in. They had been in the same bed for so long without him making any kind of move that she was almost convinced again that he wasn't interested. And then yesterday morning, before the Colonel came in, the way he had looked at her...

"Do you want me to drive?" His voice pulls her from her fantasy.

"Oh! Sure, if you want to." She slides over to the passenger seat and he sits in the driver's seat next to her.

"Hi Daddy!" Wendy wraps her arms around his neck from behind.

"Hey, sweetie. Are you excited?"

"Yes! I can't wait for you to meet Nana. She's gonna love you." Grace laughs nervously. What she hadn't thought about is that her mother already loves Elvis. Having him in her home might drive her absolutely nuts. Wendy goes back to her spot on the back seat and Elvis pulls out of the driveway. At the gates, he carefully navigates through the crowd of fans, waving gently as Grace hides her face.

"What if they follow us?"

"They won't. Not that far, at least." He chuckles. "Or I hope they won't. I know my fans can be a little... enthusiastic... but surely they draw the line at a 6 hour road trip."

They drive for a while just chatting about random things. Eventually, Wendy calls from the backseat.

"Can we have some music?" Grace turns the radio on, humming along to whatever song is playing. The next song to come on is Suspicious Minds.

"Oh, no, we're not listening to this." Elvis reaches up to change the station.

"No, Daddy! This is your song! You have to sing it!" Elvis looks at Grace.

"Okay, but this is just for you, Wendy." He proceeds to sing the whole song in a full Vegas-style performance, complete with dance moves and fake microphone. Wendy giggles and cheers from the backseat and Grace does her best to suppress her laughter. The whole scene is so endearing that she wants to kiss him when it's done. Instead, she claps and cheers as he bows as well as he can while he drives.

Another hour passes and Wendy has to go to the bathroom. When they stop at a gas station, Grace goes to get out of the car.

"No, I want Daddy to take me." Elvis laughs and Grace puts her hand on her forehead.

"Sweetie, no, Daddy can't take you. He can't go in the girl's bathroom."

"Ha! You called him Daddy!" Wendy is ecstatic. She happily goes with Grace to the bathroom, leaving Elvis to pump the gas, a big smile spread across his face. When Wendy and Grace get back to the car, Elvis has a bag of sweets that he bought while they were in the bathroom. He hands it to Wendy and she takes it cheerfully. Grace looks at Elvis and shakes her head. He shrugs.

"What? I can't spoil her a little?"

"You're trouble, Daddy." Grace emphasizes the last word and smiles in an almost flirty way. Elvis clears his throat and Grace covers her mouth as blush rises in her cheeks.

"Oh God, that's not... shit." He laughs and speaks under his breath so Wendy won't hear.

"Honey, you can call me daddy any time you want to..." Grace meets his eyes with hers and it takes everything in her power not to jump on him and smash her lips against his. Wendy looks between them and blows a bubble with her bubblegum.

"Are you guys about to kiss?" Her little girl voice pulls them both back down to reality.

"No!" Grace grabs Wendy and puts her back in the car.

"Not yet." Elvis says under his breath again as he slides into the driver's seat.

******

The rest of the trip goes about the same, with everyone singing to the radio, stopping for gas and to go to the bathroom, and Grace and Elvis trying desperately not to flirt obviously in front of Wendy. About an hour before they arrive, Wendy falls asleep.

"So, what is your family like?" Elvis is a little curious about what he's going to be walking into.

"Well, it's just my mom. My dad died when I was young. And then my little sister and her husband and their three kids. It's not a big family, but we love it."

"It sounds perfect. How old were you when your dad died."

"I was 14."

"Oh. That must've been hard."

"It was." He notices that her eyes get glassy and she looks out the car window. He's all too familiar with the pain of losing a parent too soon, so he reaches over and takes her hand in his. She scoots a little closer to him on the seat and leans her head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of her head gently. They ride together like this in silence for a while.

"So is your family... will they know me?" She laughs, but doesn't move her head off of his shoulder.

"Yes. My mother loves you. She always has, since you first started doing things. My sister isn't crazy about you, but she knows who you are. They'll just be more shocked to see me with a man than anything else." She quickly corrects herself. "Well not with you, but you know what I mean." Elvis nods his head and takes a deep breath.

"Would it be so terrible if you were with me?" She lifts her head off his shoulder and looks up at him.

"Elvis, I... we..."

"I know we shouldn't. But what if we did anyway?"

"What about the book?"

"To hell with the book."

"Elvis. You know I can't just not write the book. And if anyone found out..."

"No, you're probably right." He pats her hand and then puts his back on the steering wheel. She scoots over to her side of the car and looks out the window, praying he doesn't notice the tears that slide down her cheeks, but he does. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to focus on the road.

******

When they get to Grace's mom's house, it's after dinner time. The plan is to drop Wendy off and then head to their hotel. There isn't room for all of them to stay at Nana's, but Wendy always stays there with her cousins. Grace runs in to get Wendy settled.

"Hey, mom! We're here!"

"Come on in! We have leftovers, if you want some."

"No, I can't. There's... someone... in the car."

"In the car? Why don't you bring them in?" Grace looks around the room at her mom and sister.

"I need you to promise you won't freak out. I'm not bringing him in until tomorrow."

"Him? You brought a man home?" Grace's sister asks incredulously.

"Yes. And it's, well, it's Elvis Presley." Grace's mom drops the dish she was drying into the sink.

"I'm sorry; I thought you said Elvis Presley is coming to this house tomorrow."

"I did. You know I've been working with him on his book. He, um, didn't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving, so I invited him here." Grace's sister laughs.

"Grace. Are you sleeping with Elvis Presley?" Her mother gasps.

"Maryann! That is not appropriate!" She turns to Grace and whispers. "Are you?"

"No! We're just friends! I just didn't want him to be alone for the holiday. So can he come tomorrow?"

"Of course!"

"And you will treat him like an everyday person? He's just a man. No autographs, no questions, nothing. Treat him like any other boyfriend- I mean FRIEND!"

"She's totally sleeping with him."

"MARYANN!" Both Grace and her mom holler at her sister at the same time. Then her mom chimes in.

"We will treat him like a normal person. We promise."

"No songs from GI Blues."

"I promise!" Her mom puts her hand on her heart.

"Okay. We're going to the hotel. TO SEPARATE ROOMS." Grace glares at her sister. "But we will be back tomorrow around noon."

She stomps out of the house and out to the car.

"Everything okay?" Elvis asks as she slides back into the passenger seat.

"Yes. Just my sister. It's fine." She guides him to the hotel, where they check-in and carry their bags up to the rooms. They laugh nervously when they realize they've been given adjoining rooms.

"I'll lock it." Elvis assures her.

"It's okay. It's not like we haven't spent the last week in the same bed."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess that's true. Do you want to...?" Grace shakes her head.

"Probably should try to break that habit, now that you're well again."

"Sure. Well. Goodnight." Elvis goes into his room and closes the door. Grace walks into her room, closing the door gently behind her. She walks to the door that connects the rooms and considers knocking. All she wants in this world is to crawl in bed with Elvis, but she doesn't trust herself anymore. Now that he's healthy, she would kiss him, and probably more. Her mind flashes back to Halloween and the things she thought about as she touched herself.

She wants him. There's no denying it.

******

Elvis stands on his side of the door connecting their rooms and considers knocking. He laid in bed for an hour just thinking about Grace and missing her in his arms. He's not sure he'll be able to sleep without her.

But he knows she's right. If anyone found out they were together and then the book came out, the press would never leave her alone. And maybe there was some truth to what the Colonel said. If they got together, what would the book say about it? He shakes his head trying to get the whole thing out of his mind.

At the end of it, all that remains is Grace and how much he wishes he could knock on her door.

******

Grace's heart is in her throat as she and Elvis stand on the front porch of her mom's house.

"It'll be okay. Whatever happens is fine." She turns to him.

"You say that, but you don't know my sister." She holds her hand up and knocks carefully. Her mom throws the door open.

"Maryann, Grace is here! And she brought company!" Grace leans in and hugs her mom, whispering in her ear.

"He knows you knew he was coming."

"Okay, sweetie, I just wasn't sure how far we were taking this pretending." Her mom holds her hand out to Elvis.

"I'm Ruth. What's your name?" Elvis looks at Grace and stifles a laugh. He takes her hand and kisses it.

"I'm Elvis. Nice to meet you ma'am." His southern accent is stronger than normal and Grace looks at him funny. He shrugs as they walk into the modest living area. The kids are running around playing some kind of cops and robbers game. When Wendy sees Elvis she runs to him and wraps him in a hug.

"Hi Daddy!" Ruth looks at Grace with her eyebrows raised.

"It's not... she just..."

"My daughter, Lisa Marie, said she could borrow me when she needed a daddy and she's called me that ever since. It's fine." Elvis gives Grace a reassuring look and she takes a deep breath.

Seemingly satisfied with that story, Ruth walks back to the kitchen to grab Maryann, whose husband is sitting on the couch watching football. She drags Maryann out to the living room.

"Hi Elvis. It's nice to meet you. I'm Maryann, Grace's prettier sister. I'd shake your hand, but I'm covered in flour. These are my kids Bobby, Chris, and Susanna." She gestures to the kids as they run around her. "That's my husband Ben." He waves without taking his eyes off the TV. Elvis smiles genially.

"It's nice to meet you all. Grace didn't tell me she had a prettier sister." He winks and Grace rolls her eyes.

"Can we borrow Grace in the kitchen?"

"Of course." He makes his way to the couch and sits down to watch football. He asks Ben how long they've been playing and they dive into a conversation about how Detroit just doesn't have it this year. Grace is surprised at how well he's blending in, but she knows she shouldn't be. She follows Maryann into the kitchen.

"Okay, he's way more attractive in person."

"Maryann, really?"

"I'm sorry! It's true! I never believed it but.." she wiggles her eyebrows. Then she leans in so their mom won't hear her. "If you're not sleeping with him, you should be."

"I heard that." Ruth turns back to her girls. "Now, we have a lot of food to cook and not much time. Let's stop ogling Grace's date and get back to work."

"He's not... okay fine." The three women go to work making dinner.

******

As they sit down at the dining room table, Elvis pulls Grace's chair out for her to sit in. He sees Ruth and Maryann both soften and makes a note that he's on the right track. He wants nothing more than to make a good impression on her family. He's not exactly sure why, but he cares deeply about gaining their approval as a man and not a famous person.

Ruth sits at the head of the table and blesses the food before they begin to eat. He's seriously impressed by the quality of the food.

"Ruth, these mashed potatoes are great!"

"I actually made them." Grace says quietly. Ruth laughs.

"I'm so glad you like them! Grace isn't exactly known for her cooking. It's just another reason she's been single for so long." Elvis's eyes widen.

"Mom!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Grace, but surely he knows you haven't exactly made dating a priority." Grace puts her fork down and covers her face with her hands. He watches the impact that her mother's words have on her and gently puts his hand on her leg under the table. Just when he thinks Ruth is finished, she keeps going.

"She's always been very pretty and very smart, she's just never been good with men. Wendy's father-"

"-Mom that's enough." Maryann tries to interrupt her, but she doubles down.

"Wendy's father wasn't the best. And since then she's been too focused on herself to worry much about it. She's not really family-oriented."

"She's been focused on Wendy." He says it without really thinking. "And she's been building a career so she could take care of Wendy. I would say that's pretty damn family-oriented." The room is silent. Ben gives Elvis a look of approval and Maryann looks like she could cry. Ruth sits there with her mouth partially open. Elvis turns to Grace nervously, thinking he's pushed this too far. Instead, she grabs him and kisses his cheek and whispers in his ear.

"Thank you." He smiles at her and gives her a small nod.

"Elvis, how are you liking Vegas?" Ben jumps in to start the conversation again, but Maryann kicks him under the table. He looks at her. "What?"

"It's fine, Maryann." He smiles. "I like it just fine. I'd like to do something more, maybe a show in London or Japan, but Vegas is not a bad place to play."

"A show in Japan would be groovy." Everyone goes back to eating and the conversation continues. Ruth is quiet, for the most part. At least, she doesn't go after Grace anymore.

As everyone finishes eating and Maryann and Grace fetch the pies, the kids go back to playing. The youngest boy, Bobby, comes out with a model train and starts playing in the living room. He hollers to Ruth.

"Nana, come play with me!"

"Oh, buddy, not today." She looks at Elvis nervously. Bobby's little voice breaks out into song.

"This the train the Frankfort special!" He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to do the next part of the lyrics. As everyone sits awkwardly, Elvis stands up.

"Ain't this outfit something special?" His smooth baritone fills the room as he sits down on the floor with Bobby.

"You sound just like Tulsa!" Bobby looks at him incredulously.

"What if I told you I am Tulsa?" Bobby laughs.

"Nooo Tulsa is young!" Elvis laughs his contagious big-joy laugh and everyone at the table laughs with him.

Wendy rounds the corner.

"Is Daddy singing?! Watch this." She looks at him and sings. "Caught in a trap!" He laughs again and everyone erupts in more laughter. Grace jumps in this time, walking to Elvis and sitting next to him on the floor.

"I can't walk out!" He looks her in the eye and puts his hand under her chin gently.

"Because I love you too much, baby."

Ruth and Maryann make eye contact as Elvis and Grace continue the song.

******

After dinner, the women go into the kitchen to clean the dishes while the men settle on the couch to watch the kids and discuss football again.

"Elvis is nice." Ruth starts the conversation.

"He is." Grace looks out the window over the sink dreamily.

"He sure is in love with you." Maryann says tentatively, pulling Grace out of her dream state.

"No. He's not... we're just friends."

"Okay, sure. You're wrong. But okay."

"Maryann..."

"I wish Ben still looked at me like that." Grace stops her before she can say anything else.

"We can't be." This time Ruth chimes in.

"Why not?"

"Because we have to finish this book and... he's Elvis Presley, mom! I can't be another woman in love with Elvis Presley."

"Well, it looks to me like you are. Difference is he's in love with you, too." Just then, Elvis pokes his head into the kitchen.

"Do y'all need any help? I know how to wash dishes. I wasn't always... me..." Ruth and Maryann look at Grace and then at each other again. Ruth speaks up first.

"Oh, no, honey, but thank you. You're sweet to offer. You just go relax on the couch. We'll take care of Grace." He blushes a little at the suggestion that he only came in to check on Grace, even though it's true. He nods and goes back to the living room. This time it's Maryann who speaks first.

"He's got it bad for you, sis." Grace throws the dish towel at her and rolls her eyes, secretly hoping that her mom and sister are right.

******

Towards the end of the evening, Elvis notices Grace escape to the porch. When he follows her out there, he finds her on the porch swing with a cigarette in her hand. He pulls his cigarillo out of his pocket.

"Can I join you?"

"Oh, of course." She scoots over a little on the swing and he sits down next to her.

"I like your family." She laughs.

"Really?"

"Yes. They're very normal. I miss that."

"You know, I forget you weren't always... this." She gestures to him.

"I actually was normal for more years than I've been this." He laughs. He leans back against the seat and puts his arm on the swing behind her. When she leans back against him, his heart skips a beat.

"Are you about ready to get out of here?" She asks quietly.

"Whenever you are, honey." He checks his watch. Almost 8:30pm. A little early to go to bed, but he figures he can find something to entertain himself back at the hotel if she's ready to leave.

They sit for another ten minutes before she stands up. He stands up with her and puts out his cigarillo.

"Yeah, let's say goodnight to Wendy and then head out." She opens the door and they go inside.

******

Back in the car, Grace slides over to Elvis on the front seat and leans her head on his shoulder again.

"Thank you for being so great today."

"Of course, honey. It was important to you; I could tell."

They pull into the parking lot of the hotel and walk up to their rooms. Outside the door, she stops and looks up at him, thinking of what her mom and sister had said. Does he love her?

"Thank you for defending me... against my mom."

"Oh. I didn't like the way she was talking to you. I hope I didn't go too far."

"No, it was perfect. No one has ever stood up for me like that. I really appreciated it."

"Well I'm glad-" she cuts him off by pressing her lips against his, throwing her arms around his neck. She pulls back quickly.

"Oh God, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be." He puts his arms around her waist and pulls her into a deep and passionate kiss. Her stomach pulls tight and she feels like her heart is about to leap out of her chest. They stay locked like this for a while, tongues moving in tandem as the passion between them builds. He turns and presses her up against the hotel room door, rolling his hips into hers. She whimpers when she feels him against her. Somehow, he pulls back from her, breathing heavily.

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes." He kisses her again. But this time she pulls back. "But we shouldn't. We can't."

"Grace, please." She kisses him again, but pulls away.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She turns to face the door and puts the key in the lock. He stands behind her, still pressed against her with his face in her hair. She slips into the room away from him. Before she closes it, she kisses him one last time, just a quick peck on the lips.

"I'm sorry." Then she closes the door.

******

He hits the door frame with his right hand and then backs away, moving to the door of his room. Once inside, he walks to the door between their rooms. He wants to knock so badly, but she said no. He's trying so hard to respect what she says. But he knows she wants it too and that's what is killing him. He has one hand on either side of the door frame, trying to talk himself out of knocking when the door opens. Grace is standing there with her shirt half unbuttoned and her shoes off.

"Fuck it."

She whispers and they finally come together with the full force of their feelings for each other. His lips crash into hers, his hands moving up to her breasts and down to her ass, pulling her hips into his. She jumps and he catches her with her legs around his waist, and he carries her to the bed in his room, never moving his mouth from hers. Both of their hearts are racing as he lays her on the bed, kissing down her neck to the middle of her chest while she moans desperately. He rips her shirt open the rest of the way, buttons flying across the room. He continues kissing down her stomach, leaving a trail of burning kisses from her neck to the top of her pants. She sits up onto her knees with him on his knees in front of her and pulls her shirt off, frantically unbuttoning his shirt as well, pushing it off his shoulders. He pulls her body in to his pressing their heated skin together. His hands fumble with the clasp of her bra, but he eventually gets it off, freeing her breasts to press against him as well. He moves his mouth back down her chest to her nipple, licking over it and moving across to the other, pulling it gently into his mouth. She leans down and kisses his forehead while he works. He lays her back down and unbuttons her pants, sliding them down her legs and dropping them on the floor. He kisses her right ankle and then moves back up to her dripping core, leaving soft kisses along her leg as he goes. He presses his lips to the inside of her other thigh and she moans and arches her back. Finally, he hooks his finger in the part of her panties that's in between her legs and pulls, dragging them down her thighs and off.

He stands up for a second and looks at her laying there completely naked. No amount of fantasizing could have prepared him for the beauty of her body there waiting for him. She looks like poetry and he wants to press his lips to every inch of her skin. He's never been this attracted to anyone in his life. It almost hurts how much he needs to touch her, to feel her body on his. He wants to give her the most unimaginable pleasure, so he pulls her hips to the side of the bed and gets on his knees between her legs. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to her pussy, letting his tongue explore her slit.

"Oh, fuck, Elvis." Hearing his name come out of her mouth like this just makes him want to give her even more, so he moves his tongue up to her clit, licking over and around it as he feels it harden in his mouth. He slides first one finger and then two into her, moaning when he feels how tight she is. She whimpers and arches her back at the sensation of his mouth on her, feeling the deep coil of her orgasm tighten between her legs. He continues pressing his fingers in and out rhythmically as his tongue works her clit, licking firmly and sucking it gently. He flattens his tongue against her and moves his head back and forth. She cries out as he tightens his tongue again and drags it over her clit, pushing her over the edge into the driving waves of her orgasm. She half-screams as the pleasure slams into her, radiating through her like heat that gathers in her fingertips, races back to her core, and spills out of her into his mouth and hand. He laps at her as she comes, soaking up every bit of her desire. She runs her fingers through his hair and pushes him back off of her.

"Come up here." She says, chest heaving. On his way up, he goes to wipe his face with his hand, but she doesn't seem to care, instead grabbing him and pulling him into a passionate kiss. Her hands go immediately to his pants and she unbuttons them, freeing his aching cock and pushing them down and off of him. She pushes him onto his back and slinks down his body, kissing and nipping him as she goes.

"Mmm." She whimpers as she holds his cock in her hand, finally appreciating the size and shape of it. She rolls his foreskin back and licks a circle around the sensitive head.

"Fuck, yes, baby." He says through gritted teeth as she pulls him into her mouth fully. She opens her throat and moves back and forth slightly to get his full length into her, pressing her nose into the soft patch of hair at the base of him. When she pulls back and bounces her mouth on him, pumping him with her hand, he cries out her name and runs his fingers into her hair. His hips buck up into her and she lets him thrust into her mouth for a while, massaging his balls with her hand.

"If you don't stop, 'm gonna come, baby." She pulls off and laughs.

"I'm not finished with you yet." He smiles and pulls her up to lay next to him. He rolls over on top of her and lines his cock up with her entrance.

"This is what you want?"

"Elvis, I want you more than anything." He presses his lips to hers and thrusts his hips forward, filling her entirely in one move. She throws her head back and moans loudly.

"Oh, God." He starts pumping in and out of her rhythmically. She's so tight and wet and the feeling of her around him exceeds everything he imagined. But something about this is different than any sex he's ever had. He looks into her brown eyes as he fucks her and all he wants is to stay connected to her like this forever. She wraps her arms and legs around him and pulls him in close to her, kissing his neck and shoulder.

Then, she pushes him off and rolls him onto his back. She puts one knee on either side of him and lowers herself onto his cock slowly, reveling in every inch of him. She's been with men before, but something about this is different. No amount of him could ever be enough. He puts his hands on her hips as she grinds him deeper and deeper inside of her, looking into his blue eyes as she does.

"Where should I?"

"Inside. Please." He nods. The last thing he wants is to disconnect from her at the most vital moment. As he gets closer and closer, she leans over onto his chest. He wraps his arms around her and thrusts from underneath.

"Oh, fuck, don't stop." She pleads and he does exactly as she asks. Finally, they both rush over the edge of ecstasy together. She presses her lips to his again as he shudders and pulses, filling her with his release as she feels herself throb around him. They stay connected this way for several minutes before she kisses his cheek and relaxes on his shoulder, with his arms still wrapped around her.

She sits up and he runs his hands in her hair, pushing it back behind her ears.

"I love you, Grace." She opens her mouth to protest, but he stops her.

"I've loved you for months. You know I'm telling you the truth. I'm in love with you."

Her eyes get wet and soft.

"I'm in love with you too." He holds his hand up to her cheek and catches the tear that falls with his thumb.

"I don't care about anything else, honey, I just want you. From now on. Just you and me. And Wendy and Lisa. I want our family." She nods her head as the tears continue to fall. He pulls her to him and kisses the tears on her cheeks. In between each kiss, he whispers.

"I love you."

******

Until Chapter 8...

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Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @ashtag6887 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @xanatenshi @returntopresley @p0lksaladannie @deniseinmn @jaqueline19997 @that-hotdog @mykievolturi @18lkpeters @joshuntildawn13 @rjmartin11 @littlehoneyposts

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis presley smut #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #grace dubois #this is the story #Spotify

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melswifeasf · 11 months

Text

Safest in your arms pt 3

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Pairing: Georgia Miller x Fem!OC

Summary: it’s Samanthas 18th birthday, meaning she’s legal now…

Warnings: (18+) MDNI, Cursing, Drug use, alcohol consumption, age gap relationships (18 and 30) grooming, sexual themes.

FALLING BACK INTO A ROUTINE WAS HARD FOR ANYONE. that was especially true for Samantha. she wasn't always the best at facing change, so when she went from working and hanging out with her friends all summer - as well as going to the beach with her parents, she wasn't used to having to deal with school and the stress of having to turn in her school work before a deadline.

it was why she needed to completely let go of herself Friday and she did. she got a lot more intoxicated then what she planned, she lost count of how many shots she took at the party and when a blonde with pretty blue eyes looked at her from across the room, she just couldn't let the opportunity run past her.

the sex was amazing and Emma even left the next morning like Samantha had told her. it was why she asked Marcus to leave the door unlocked, as soon as the clock hit six, Emma got up and left. no one was supposed to see her and yet someone did.

Samantha spent most of her Saturday hungover and watching movies with her blinds closed and her lights off the whole day. even her friends were recovering from the day before so she didn't see them until it got dark out. Nia and Jade brought her tacos and put on a 2000s romcom movie. they didn't even get through half of it though, as soon as they were done eating they all fell asleep. Sunday was as lazy as Saturday, they didn't have any plans so they all just hung out at Samanthas place until Ellen told them they should head home.

it was just easier to be at Samantha's house, the twins moms were a bit strict when it came the hours they could have company, Natalies house was always off limits because Brodie would have his friends over and Jade had three annoying little brothers that would make it their job to annoy the shit out of them. they sometimes hung out in Matthews basement but Samantha did not want to leave her house.

Wednesday rolled around pretty quickly. Monday was slow and Samantha had a long shift, Tuesday she had to tutor some freshman for extra credit and had yet another long shift at work so as soon as her head hit her pillow she was out like a light. that meant she hadn't seen Georgia since the second time they got high together. she didn't have much time to really think about the blonde, her schedule was filled to the point in which she didn't have time to think about anything, really.

the front door swung open and in walked Samantha with the twins and Matthew trailing behind her. their talking died down when they were in the house, the topic of conversation far too inappropriate for Samanthas parents to hear. "hello lads" she called out as she saw her dad and brother watching something on the tv. Marcus only glanced at her in acknowledgement and then turned his attention back to the screen. her dad shot her a warm smile that she quickly recuperated.

her friends signed hello to him, a gesture that always warmed her heart. growing up it was hard introducing her friends to her dad so when they first became friends she made sure they never hung out at her place. it wasn't that she was embarrassed because she could never be but she just found it complicated, up until the day they found out on their own and they all learned how to sign greetings and goodbyes. after time they would ask her how to say different things and even though they were a bit botchy, it was the fact that they even made the effort that was enough for her.

she walked into the kitchen as happy as ever but the smile on her lips twitched at the sight in front of her. Georgia, her hot neighbor was in her kitchen and talking to her mom like they were old friends, sipping on wine. the two women looked at Samantha and then at her friends as they followed her into the kitchen. it wasn't noticeable that Samantha stopped for a split second, processing the sight before her and then she continued walking toward the fridge.

"hey Georgia, mom" she said as she opened the fridge and grabbed a couple of gatorade's.

"Mrs Baker, lovely to see you" she heard Matthew say making her snort out a laugh, it was a wonder why her mom liked the kid so much. the fridge closed with Samantha's foot and she turned back toward her friends. she threw each bottle to each teen and they each caught it swiftly.

"we're all gonna chill for a while" Samantha said her eyes glancing at the blonde woman who was sipping on the red wine in her glass, all whilst watching her. it was almost like deja vu from Friday.

Ellen nodded, "okay, there's left overs in the fridge if you guys would like some" she said and turned slightly to indicate she was also talking to the other three teens in her kitchen.

"thank you" they all said at the same time it was almost comical.

Samantha chuckled, "thanks mom. i'm gonna head up though" she said and began to uncap the purple gatorade in her hand, Ellen nodded as Samantha walked past them. she was about join her friends and walk upstairs when her moms voice stopped her.

"hey, wait" she said making the girl freeze in her spot, the tone in which her mom spoke made her believe this was either going to end with her in trouble or her having to get one of her siblings in trouble.

"what's up?" she asked now turning to face the two women. she tried her best to not glance at Georgia but it was getting really hard with the blonde being so close to her and the smell of her perfume was starting to intoxicate her.

"do you have a finsta?" Ellen asked bluntly. Samantha's eyebrows furrowed and she let out a confused chuckle, why was she asking this?

"what?"

"you should leave while you still can" Marcus called out from the living room making Ellen turn to look at him in annoyance before turning back toward her daughter.

"do you?" Ellen repeated with a raised brow.

Samantha glanced at Georgia who had her usual smile, her eyes narrowed on the blonde. "why do i get the feeling you have something to do with this?" she asked Georgia who shrugged.

"im not sure what you mean"

"uh huh" Samantha nodded and then turned toward her mom. she could see her friends looking between each other from the corner of her eye. she had two options in this, she could either be honest and possibly have to deal with her mom seeing her private post or she could lie and have Georgia crack the truth out of her. "i don't, im confused on why you're asking me this though" she said looking at her mom.

Ellen watched her daughters facial features, trying to see if she was lying but she didn't find any sign of it so she let out a sigh. "i just found out your sister has a finsta and she's been keeping quite a lot of stuff from me" she said and grabbed the phone that was sitting on the countertop between her and Georgia. "did you know she threw a party in the house in Maine?"

the raven haired girls eyebrows shot up in fake surprise, "really? Max? i would expect that from Marcus but not her" she answered earning a groan from her brother. she was obviously lying but she was always able to trick her mom into believing otherwise.

"i said the same thing" Ellen said with a shake of her head. "but okay, you can go now" she said and grabbed the glass on wine in front of her before downing the liquid inside.

Samantha looked at her mom slightly shocked and then glanced at Georgia who was already looking at her. memories of Friday night flashed through her mind like a bucket of hot water was poured on her. the taste of Emma's lips, the feeling of someone watching them.. god it was too much.

she cleared her throat and walked away, not sparing Georgia or her mom another glance as she led her friends upstairs and into her room. she felt bad for lying to her mom but it's not like her finsta had anything all that bad, mostly just pictures of her at parties, drunk off her ass or beach pictures of her in a bikini that she did not want her mom to ever see.

a notification echoing throughout the room pulled Samanthas attention away from her friends phone and to her own. her and Nia were laying on her bed whilst watching Tiktok's, Matthew and Oliver had left already. Oliver had to pick up Natalie and Matthew didn't want to third wheel with two girls. by now Max was home and Samantha and Nia quietly eavesdropped on the stairs. after they went outside to smoke since Nia was going to spend the night.

"who is it?" Nia asked watching as Samantha searched for her phone on the bed, once she finally found it the bright light illuminated her face.

"i dont know" she mumbled, it was a friend request on instagram. her thumb pressed on the app and she clicked on the account that had just followed her. "do you know a Viviane Leigh?" she asked and threw her head back onto her pillow. Samantha felt her friend shake her head as she rested her own head on the girls shoulder.

"i don't think so," Nia said and watched as her friend scrolled through the account, "it looks like one of those weird burner accounts though" she said earning a laugh from her friend.

"that's your paranoia"

"or maybe it's that blondie you hooked up with," Nia said bumping her friends arm with her own. Samantha shook her head.

"her names Emma" she clarified.

"okay. well, why didn't you ever text her back? she seemed really nice and pretty. your mom would love her" Nia said making her friend let out a chuckle.

"don't get me wrong, the sex was amazing but that's pretty much it. it was so awkward when we were talking at the party" she said. the memories of that night made her cringe even just thinking about it, when they first introduced themselves it was fine then Emma lingered and tried to spark a conversation but all she really talked about was cheer and tried to figure out if they had any friends i common which they did not.

whilst Nia expressed how her friend was emotionally unavailable, the shorter girl was accepting the friend request. not even a minute later a DM was sent from that account. her eyebrows furrowed and she clicked on the message.

Vivian Leigh

i thought you didn't have a finsta?

a toothy grin appeared on the girls face as she read the message. it didn't take a genius to know who it was. her thumbs tapped against the screen as she quickly came up with a response.

Sams life

i didn't peg you for a stalker, Miller

Vivian Leigh

i see we're using last names now?

Sams life

nah. just yours. pls tell me you didn't

tell my mom about this though??

Vivian Leigh

don't worry, your secret is safe with me.

Sams life

well that's a relief

Sams life

why Vivian Leigh, though?

Vivian Leigh

seriously?? gone with the wind?

Sams life

what now?

Vivian Leigh

oh god, i forget you're still a child.

Sams life

haha, i'll have you know i'm gonna be

legal in two days

Vivian Leigh

your birthday is on Friday?

Sams life

yes ma'am

Sams life

id invite you to my party but we

don't rlly let boomers in

Vivian Leigh

i'm a boomer now? ouch.

Sams life

lmao i think your a millennial actually

Sams life

same thing, really

Vivian Leigh

i think i'm okay with that, i'd be doomed

not knowing gone with the wind.

Sams life

LMAO

Vivian Leigh

and using whatever that means every message

Sams life

okay now im the offended one

Sams life

lmao stands for l=laughing m=my a=ass

o=off

Sams life

your welcome for the grammar lesson

Vivian Leigh

wow your an amazing teacher.

Sams life

okay, i know your being sarcastic but

i'll take it!

Vivian Leigh

oh and your using punctuation, even better.

Sams life

ofc

Sams life

i'm assuming you know what that means

the raven haired girl was smiling so wide she had to bite her lip in order to disguise herself a bit. of course there was no hiding anything from her best friend who had been staring at her ever since she started texting Georgia. Samantha was so caught up on her phone and watching the typing.. to even realize her friend was watching her extremely confused. Nia expected her friend to realize she had been staring at her for the past five minutes but Samantha was still staring at the device in her hand.

"so it wasn't Emma but by shit eating grin you have right now i'm guessing it's another hottie?" the curly haired brunette said making her friends eyes slowly leave her screen and turn to her. Samantha's eyes seemed distant as she processed her words until finally she shook her head.

"it's just Georgia" she said and turned back to her phone.

Vivian Leigh

okay wow, i'm thirty but not stupid.

Sams life

okay yeah, my bad

Sams life

have you missed our smoke seshs?

Nia rolled her eyes at her friend and waved a hand in front of the girls face, Samanthas attention went from her phone to Nia. "what?" she chuckled, her phone was now laying on her bed, screen up shinning light on the ceiling.

"why is she texting you?" Nia questioned.

Samantha shrugged, "i don't know. she just found my private account and that's it" she explained and picked her phone back up.

"don't you think it's weird she's texting you?"

"nah. she's just being friendly" Samantha explained and waited for Georgia to message her back. the girl beside her examined Samanthas face, her eyes were shinning and they weren't a cause of the light on her phone, she had her lip in between her teeth and she could tell it was to hide a smile. she really hoped Samantha wasn't dumb enough to fall in love with an older woman - especially not the mother of her sisters best friend. she didn't want to burst her friends bubble, not yet at least so she simply turned her own phone back on and went back to her social media.

Vivan Leigh

is that what we're calling it?

Sams life

that's what everyone calls it

Vivian Leigh

right. sure.

Sams life

so you have missed me?

Vivian Leigh

i missed the free weed.

Sams life

fine, i'll take it.

Sams life

oh and btw, i loved your top today;)

Vivian Leigh

goodnight Samantha

Sams life

night Georgia

but Samantha couldn't sleep, no matter how much she tossed and turned, she simply could not get her mind to stop thinking about the woman across the street. even when her best friend held her close, usually that would be enough for her to fall asleep immediately but this time around it wasn't enough.

she knew she was playing a dangerous game. one that could potentially get them both in a lot of trouble but she simply craved Georgia. everything about her, the way she laughed, her accent that always gave Samantha chills, or the way she always knew what to say and do to make others feel more comfortable. it was the way she looked at her, the perfume she would always wear that at this point it was Samanthas favorite smell, even just her smile. it was all so addicting and Samantha was scared there wouldn't be a way out of this, afraid she'd end up falling for yet another straight girl.

birthdays weren't always Samanthas favorite. she didn't really like celebrating it when she was younger, she wasn't used to being the center of attention so it was always awkward. to top it off she never had any friends to celebrate with which just always reminded her how alone she really was. until her twelfth birthday, it was when she had met the twins and it was also the first year she had gone out to celebrate without her parents. they had gone the simple route and went to the movies. on her thirteenth birthday, they went to the pool, on her fourteenth they threw a small party with just them and it was the first time they ever tasted alcohol. on her fifteenth birthday, she spent it with her parents, her sixteenth they threw her a surprise party and on her seventeenth, she was so drunk she couldn't even remember it.

this time around it would be the same as the year before. Matthew would be throwing a party at his house, his mom was going on a business trip meaning he had an empty house and enough room to invite almost every senior. there was no doubt in anyone's mind that they'd all come, Samantha had a way of making friend unintentionally. even when she was younger, she always thought she didn't have any friends when she reality was she just never cared to pay attention to the people around her.

that morning Samantha was woken up by loud whispers. she thought she was dreaming at first, a weird dream with familiar voices whispering over one another followed by them hushing each other because they were talking too loud. she groaned lowly, her eyelids felt heavy and she wasn't supposed to be awake yet considering her alarm hadn't sounded. who the hell was waking her up then?

that question was answers pretty quickly, Samantha blinked one eye open, afraid that if she opened both she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. when she adjusted to the light coming from the curtains and the blobs above her she realized they weren't blobs, it was her friends all sporting huge grins.

"happy birthday!" they all said at the same time making the girls eyes widen and her body shot up, her heart was beating fast and her eyes were wide.

"holy shit" she muttered lowly, it took her a couple of seconds before her mind caught up to her body and a smile formed on her lips. "guys" she said her voice a lot softer now. "what the hell?"

they were each still smiling at her, Matthew was holding balloons in one hand and Nia was holding a cupcake with a single candle. "we know you hate when we sing happy birthday so here, blow it out" Nia said bringing the cupcake closer to the shorter girl. Samantha smiled at that, they were always thoughtful, all of them.

"but you still have to make a wish" Oliver said pointing at her making the girl roll her eyes with a small smile. she didn't fight his words, knowing if she did they would just light the candle again and make her blow it out for a second time. the latina girl closed her eyes, she made a quick wish and then opened them and blew out the candle.

"hell yeah" Matthew clapped and began to whistle, Samantha rolled her eyes once more and a breathy giggle left her lips at his actions.

"you're so annoying" she said but her happy tone of voice said otherwise.

"come on, get ready. Ellen's making breakfast" Oliver said rubbing his hands together.

"okay fine" Samantha said and threw the blankets off of her, she was about to go to her dresser and pick out an outfit when a bunch of hands were pulling her into a tight embrace.

"cant forget about our annual group hug!" Matthew exclaimed. no one seemed to be protesting though, Samantha laughed with a slight shake of her head.

"im being suffocated" she said dramatically and they all laughed before pulling away.

"you know you can't escape it" Oliver said with a wink.

"oh, i know"

a shower and a half an hour long conversation later Samantha was walking down the stairs with her friends on her heel. footsteps echoed throughout pretty much the whole house as well as loud chatter, having five teens over was bound to get noisy and at this point Ellen and Clint were used to it.

the raven haired girl was wearing light washed jeans that were slightly baggy and a white tank top that showed most of her stomach. once they reached the bottom of the stairs Samantha could see her mom and siblings in the kitchen most likely already eating breakfast.

"good morning and happy birthday!" Ellen said happily rushing over to daughter and pulling her into a tight hug. Samantha giggled as she accepted her mothers hug, recuperating it with as much as strength as she was receiving.

"thanks, mom" she responded with a slight laugh. Ellen pulled away happily to let her dad go next. he signed the young girl happy birthday and i love you before he pulled the girl into a tight hug, even though this was probably the fifth time she had been hugged in the last hour she hugged her father back with any protest.

once he pulled away Marcus stood from his chair and gave her a side hug, "happy birthday loser"

"awe, thanks Marcus" she cooed teasingly and hugged him with unnecessary strength. even though any other time he would've rolled his eyes and pushed her away, this time he didn't. he let his sister hug her for as long as she wanted and even a small crack of a smile formed on his lips that didn't go unnoticed by his mom who chose to not comment on it, not wanting to ruin the moment between the two.

Maxine was up next in line, she had her usual happy smile and threw her arms around her sister, "happy birthday, happy birthday!" she cheered happily practically bouncing in excitement.

Samantha chuckled, "thank you" she responded and tried to match her sisters excitement but that was practically impossible.

"okay, everyone grab a plate" Ellen said pointing at Samantha's friends as well as Samantha. the young girl saluted her mother and followed her orders, the five teens behind her mimicking her actions.

when breakfast was over Samantha, her friends and the twins walked outside to the car only for her to realize it was all decorated. she wanted to roll her eyes and complain about how it would be a bitch to take out but her friends and siblings were smiling with so much excitement that she didn't. it was also the fact that Marcus nor Max ever really talked to her friends and now they planned this together, just for her.

the words 'it's my bday bitches' was on the back of her car and the right back window had a huge eighteen whilst the other had 'finally legal'. she thought the second one was funny.

at school she was congratulated by a lot of people, some she wasn't aware they cared enough to take time out of their day just to wish her a happy birthday but regardless she was more than thankful. once lunch rolled around they all left school and went to blue farm. Samantha was sitting in between Nia and Jade whilst the other three were across from her.

someone else who said happy birthday? Georgia Miller.

Vivian Leigh 6:00am

happy birthday legal

it was cute that she remembered and it was even cuter that she had sent it exactly at six in the morning. they had been talking for the past two days and in that time Samantha commented on the fact that she was born at that time and in all honesty, it gave Samantha butterflies that she even remembered let alone took the time to text her at that exact time.

"so i got a keg and tequila cause 'you hate vodka' or whatever" Matthew said holding her hands up in quotations earning an amused eye roll from the girl across from him.

"thanks Matty" she answered now making him roll his eyes with an exasperated groan.

"you're just lucky it's your birthday" he said referring to the nickname she had just called him which he had a distaste for.

"it's every year" she shrugged.

Matthew hummed, "uh huh" he leaned back against his chair with his arms crossed.

"anyway," Jade said glancing between the two with slightly narrowed eyes. "what's the plan though? who's driving?" she asked and everyone immediately perked up at her words.

"yeah, i drove last time and i need to get wasted tonight" Nia said desperately.

Matthew shrugged, "everyone could just spend the night" he offered.

"hell yeah, man" Oliver said patting the boy on his shoulder roughly.

Matthew smirked and turned toward Oliver, "my parents room is off limits" he said with a smile. at that Oliver rolled his eyes and his smile was replaced by a disappointed sigh.

"it's okay, we'll just do it in your room" Natalie smirked making Matthews head snap toward her.

"absolutely not"

"why? it's not like your getting laid. didn't you leave at midnight last time?" she asked referring to the one they attended the week before. Matthew stiffened at her words and he subconsciously glanced at Nia who had a light pink coating her cheeks.

no one seemed to notice that other than Samantha though. did something happen? no, otherwise Nia would have told her.. right? they weren't the type to ever keep secrets from each other and thought of her doing so made her chest tighten.

"anyway," Jade cleared her throat, "is that cool with you?" she asked turning toward Samantha.

"yeah" she answered, she'd rather get wasted and know she could just fall asleep where she was rather than have to worry about someone taking her home and trying her best to hide how wasted she is from her parents. plus, she wouldn't have a curfew which was the best part.

"cool so i'll just pick you two up" Nia said glancing at Samantha and Jade who both nodded in agreement.

"question" Natalie spoke, "what are we all wearing"

"im wearing a tux" Matthew smirked widely.

Samantha snorted, "yeah, no." she shook her head at Matthew who glared back at her. "im wearing a dress. i'm thinking red but i'm not sure yet" she said turning her attention back to Natalie who nodded in return.

"so what do i wear" Matthew said sighing dramatically. Samantha raised an eyebrow at him and stirred her coffee in front of her with a straw.

"i don't know," she shrugged. "a button up? a polo? don't you know how to dress yourself?"

Matthew shrugged as well, "i know how to dress myself when i'm not hosting at my place"

"it's really not that different" Jade commented.

"cool, so a button up it is, i guess" he muttered and Oliver nudged him.

"im wearing a white one, so it's off limits"

"oh yeah, just choose the most common color to exist" Matthew nodded. Oliver simply shrugged and threw an arm around his girlfriends shoulder.

after that the girls began to banter about their outfits and who's place they were gonna get ready in when Matthew said they should all just do it at his place since it would be easier. soon their plan for the day was settled, that is until a very important topic of conversation came up.

"please tell me you didn't invite Marcus or Maxine" Jade said looking at her friend. Samantha was sipping on her coffee, not really listening until she realized everyone's eyes were on her.

"huh?" she said confusedly, she back tracked to try and remember what her friend said until finally she did. she put her coffee on the table and shook her head, "of course not. are you kidding? first of all, Max is grounded for lying and Marcus wouldn't be caught dead at a high school party unless it's all his emo friends" she said with a slight laugh.

"okay thank god. no offense but Maxine can be a little.." Jade trialed off.

"dramatic? loud? a ball of energy?" Samantha offered to which Jade simply nodded. "yeah i know. plus she'd just invite all her little friends and i do not want any sophomores at my party" she shook her head at the thought.

she was once a sophomore and knew what it was like to want to get invited to sophomore parties but she really did not want to deal with her sister. not only did she not like any of her friends but she knew she'd end up getting drunk or high and she'd have to spend the whole time sober and keeping an eye on her. she did not need neither one of those things. her friends murmured in agreement.

the door of the restaurant opened earning Samantha's attention, she glanced in the direction of it before turning back around to her table. one.. two.. three seconds later her head whipped around to the door again where she saw Georgia with her usual smile approaching Joe at the cashier. whatever Matthew and Oliver were talking about wasn't being processed by her as she watched the blonde chat with Joe as if they were friends. she assumed they were by now, Joe wasn't the most talkative but he was a nice guy and Samantha's sure Georgia had seen that by now.

Joe nodded at something Georgia had said - Samantha was too far away from them to hear what they were talking about though. once the bearded man was gone Georgia turned her body and leaned her side on the counter a bit as she looked around the place, of course her eyes landed on the girl who was already looking at her. a flash of a smile passed Georgia before she turned back around but that wasn't enough for Samantha. she had to say something.

"i'll be back" she muttered and stood from her chair, the conversation that was going on at the table stopped immediately after as they all watched their friend walk toward the blonde woman.

"hey," Samantha said once she was near her, Georgia turned to look at Samantha with a smile. she looked beautiful but that didn't surprise the raven haired girl, she always looked flawless even late at night when she would sneak into her balcony to smoke with her.

"hey stranger," Georgia answered enthusiastically, much like she always did. "happy birthday" she smiled and Samantha wasn't sure if she was imagining it but the smile seemed so sincere it gave her a wave of butterflies.

"thanks," Samantha said with a matching smile.

"i would give you your present but i don't want you to be disappointed every time you get one after" she said with a fake frown.

Samantha rolled her eyes at her, "is it that good?"

"of course"

"so then you'll have to take it to me tonight" she confirmed taking a step closer the the blonde. it wasn't enough to draw any attention to them but enough for her to smell the perfume she loved so much. it was intoxicating but she craved that feeling, every day. "at Matthews place, by the way"

Georgia raised a perfectly plucked brow, "i thought boomers weren't invited?"

"you're a millennial remember?" Samantha asked ranting a chuckle from the blonde.

"right" she nodded.

the raven haired girl sent her a sly wink and began to walk backwards, "you're not getting out of this"

Georgia laughed, "we'll see about that"

with one last look at the blonde Samantha went back to her friends table and sat down. she tried her best to hide the huge grin but it was almost impossible. she was too busy recollecting her thoughts to even realize that all of her friends were looking at her with confused looks.

it wasn't until Matthew spoke that she snapped out of it, "what the absolute hell was that?" he asked loudly making everyone at the table shush him as questions looks were being thrown their way.

"what?" Samantha asked calmly, "i just went over to say hi" she shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. in truth it wasn't, or she didn't think it was. it's not like she and Georgia were doing anything wrong.

"yeah, sure" Matthew nodded with narrowed eyes, Samantha decided to ignore him and began to talk about what they would be drinking later that night.

loud music echoed throughout the whole house and it was a miracle none of the neighbors had called the cops. it was past midnight - or at least that's what Samantha thinks. she isn't entirely sure. she was way past her limit and she needed to lean on something to even be able to stand.

after blue farm they all went home to get their things ready for the party. Samantha spent half an hour packing her stuff and then she and her family went to dinner to celebrate. it was nice, Marcus and Maxine were on their best behavior and it was actually enjoyable without them bickering and arguing back and forth. after dinner they went home to cut the cake and open presents. Marcus gifted his sister a small stuffed ghost face - she was obsessed with the movies and anyone who really knew her knew that. Maxine had gotten her flowers which she thought was cute. Ellen and Clint bad gifted their daughter a 'Coach' bag that she almost cried when she saw.

later Nia had picked her up and they went straight to Matthews house. they all got ready there which also meant they started drinking as soon as they got there and now after five hours they were all pretty drunk. they all decided to overdress for the occasion, all of the girls in dresses and heels or skirts at the least whilst Matthew and Oliver both had button ups and dress pants. it was Samanthas birthday and she had put that down as a ground rule and who were they to defy her on her birthday.

Samantha wore a red dress that fit her body tightly, it went down to a fourth of her thigh and her black heels made her about two inches taller. she curled her hair and had on red lipstick to match her dress.

most people started arriving at around ten and by midnight it was at full swing. most were in Matthews basement, the lights were off and the speakers were blasting a song that Samantha didn't know the name of. she was sitting on Matthews couch with him, Jade and Nia sitting around her. Matthew was on the ground whilst Jade was beside Samantha and Nia was laying down. by now most of the guests had left, only a handful of them still around but it was mostly just people that were really close to the group. Matthew had a bong in hand and a lighter in the other as he smoked. everyone was wasted so the only two who were also smoking were him and Nia. Jade and Samantha were far too out of it and that combined with weed would just fuck them up even more.

"i really hope Oliver and Natalie arent fucking on my bed" Matthew said with a slight laugh. Nia laughed along with him, she sounded out of breath and she laid her head on Samantha's shoulder.

Samantha grimaced at the thought, "that's disgusting" she shook her head. Matthew and Nia continued to laugh breathily, both completely out of it at this point whilst Jade sang along to the song playing. she had her vape in one hand and every once in a while and cloud of smoke would escape her lips.

Samantha had planned on hooking up with someone, a stranger, preferably but she didn't bring herself to do so. she spent most of her time with the teens around her throughout the whole night and the one time a pretty brunette approached her, she thanked her for complimenting her and said she needed some air. she wasn't sure what was wrong, any other time she would've flirted back and by now would've been hooking up in a bathroom or in one of the many spare bedrooms in the house.

instead she was watching Nia and Matthew try to ghost and fail miserably at it. she wasn't all that sure how they were even still awake by how high they were. Jade laughed at them, her back shaking in the process and her head fell back against the couch.

but she did know why she didn't want to hook up with any of the girls she had seen tonight. it had to do with it a pretty blonde that had been consuming her thoughts ever since she saw her at blue farm. every time she thought about kissing someone else she'd feel a sense of dread in the depths of her stomach and she hated it. how could someone fuck her up this badly when all they've ever done is talk? it was annoying and all she wanted to do was rip her name out of her brain and never have to think about her again.

that was a lie.

of course it was a lie because Georgia was forbidden, every sense and it only made Samantha want her even more. so she did the only thing her drunken mind could think of, even if she might regret it in the morning or even if she wouldn't get a response. the raven haired girl grabbed her phone that was on her lap and turned it on, the time read 3:23am her lock screen staring back at her. it was of her and her friends when they had all gone down to florida last spring break, each of them were all dressed up, makeup and dresses with button ups on the boys. there were all at a fancy restaurant, the girls sitting down with the boys standing behind them, each with huge grins.

she swiped up and went straight to her instagram, she double checked to make sure she was on her private account and went to her dms where she found the one person she wanted by her side.

Sams life

the light shining back at her was bright and it made her squint even after her eyes had adjusted to the bright light. her mind was fuzzy and her thumbs felt heavy but that didn't stop her from waiting for the blonde woman to respond. she stared at her screen for the next five minutes, her eyes occasionally glancing at the time to see how much time had passed and she even went back a couple of messages after a minute or so to distract herself.

finally after those five minutes she saw her message had been read and a second later the word typing.. was displayed on the chat. she pulled her head from one side to another as she waited for a response. finally she got one.

Vivian Leigh

hey

the girl bit her lip as she thought about what to say. she didn't think this far into it, she only wanted a response from the blonde but now that she got one she had no idea what she could even say. the only thing her drunken mind could really think of was how much she wanted Georgia by her side, how much she missed having her close, missed those meaningless conversations that meant the most to her. her thumbs aggressively typed on her phone, a response that could be like a bomb and blow up their whole relationship.

Sams life

i miss you

a second of hesitation.

Vivian Leigh

are you drunk?

Sams life

what if i am?

Vivian Leigh

you should probably be asleep right now.

Sams life

not tired

Vivian Leigh

it's three am.

Sams life

ur point?

Vivian Leigh

seriously, go to sleep. your gonna be

hungover tomorrow

Sams life

sounds like tm Sams problem

Vivian Leigh

Samantha

the raven haired girl chuckled drunkenly.

Sams life

Georgia

Vivian Leigh

are you at least safe? do you need a ride home?

a fuzzy feeling formed in the girls stomach at her words. she cared. she had to care otherwise she wouldn't have responded let alone worried for her safety.

Sams life

you worried about me, Miller?

Vivian Leigh

i'm serious, Samantha.

Sams life

yeah, i'm staying at Mattys place.

Vivian Leigh

okay good. make sure to drink water before

you go to sleep

Sams life

so when do i get my present?

Vivian Leigh

what present?

Sams life

the one i was promised at blue farm.

Vivian Leigh

haha i thought we were mutually aware that

i was joking

Samantha's lips tugged into a frown at her words. she didn't care about the present part, she just wanted to see her. if she wasn't this drunk she would've drove over to her house simply just to see her face but she could barely stand let alone drive without killing herself or someone else in the process.

Sams life

pls come over

Vivian Leigh

Samantha. your drunk.

Sams life

pls pls pls

Sams life

i really want to see you

Sams life

it can count at my bday present

Vivian Leigh

it's not your birthday anymore.

Sams life

please

she felt an overwhelming sensation form in her chest and she wasn't sure why it was happening. she'd never felt this way, not even for her ex and yet here she was, wanting to cry because the woman she had a stupid crush on wouldn't drive to where she was. she felt like crying which at this point she was sure it had to do with the alcohol in her body. regardless her breathing began to grow heavier as she waited for a response, her message had been seen but she wasn't getting a response. she was about to give up and just turn her phone off when finally a message came though.

Vivian Leigh

okay

her eyes widened at the message and for a second she thought it was all in her imagination. she had exited out of the app and went back in just to make sure it was real. it was. she bit her lip to hide back a smile, not wanting her friends to ask why she looked so happy as she typed up a response. she wanted to ask if she was serious but she also didn't want to annoy Georgia to the point in which she changed her mind so she quickly texted back.

Sams life

📍Samanthas location

her message was left on read and the green dot signaling she was online had disappeared. with that Samantha abruptly jumped up from the couch making Nia whine as her she held her cheek where she had just been hit.

"what the hell" she groaned and both Matthew and Jade looked at Samantha confused.

"gotta go to the bathroom" she said and grabbed her vape from Jade who pouted.

"awe," she said but Samantha ignored her.

"gonna go to the bathroom" she repeated drunkenly and stepped over Matthew who simply stared at her. she didn't get a response from any of them but she didn't wait for one either as she rushed up the stairs. the main floor was pretty much empty except for three teenagers who were in the kitchen who looked like they were about to leave. she ignored them and went outside which was empty. there were five cars still parked outside but two of them belonged to Nia and Oliver and she was sure the other three belonged to to at least one of the three friends downstairs - not including Nia Matthew or Jade and the teens in the kitchen.

the raven haired girl stood walked to Nia car and leaned against it as she brought the electronic cigarette up to her lips and inhaled deeply. there was a light breeze and it made her legs cold but she fought against it as she looked back and forth waiting for the bmw to pull into the neighborhood. she wasn't feeling as nervous as sober her would be and the nicotine was helping with her not freaking out as well. her hands were sweating a little and every once in a while she'd run a hand through her hair lazily. her stomach was filled with anticipation, the kind of feeling she'd get when she was waiting in line for a scary rollercoaster or the feeling she got before her first day of middle school.

in the next ten minutes the teens that were once in the kitchen had left, waving goodbye to the teen and wishing her one last happy birthday. until finally the familiar blue car pulled up next to the girl, a smile tugging at her lips as the window rolled down.

"get in" the blonde said simply and the raven haired girl didn't need to be told twice. she opened the car door and got inside in a hurry, she was aware of how no one else could see them together even through her drunken daze so before getting in she looked around her to make sure that no one was witnessing what was going on.

as soon as the door closed behind her Georgia put the car in drive and began to press on the gas. Samantha didn't question where they were going, only leaned her head back against the seat and looked at the road in front of her. they drove for five minutes until they pulled into a parking lot that belonged to the neighborhood park.

once Georgia had put the car in park she turned toward the younger girl with a raised brow. Samantha smiled lazily at her, she had her head turned and her cheek pressed against the leather seat. "i like your car" she said running her hand over the smooth interior.

Georgia let out a sigh, "why am i here Samantha" she said grabbing the younger girls attention. her movements came to a stop and she looked back at the blonde with a slight frown.

"i wanted to see you"

Georgia shook her head, "you're drunk"

her words went completely over the girls head as she took in the woman in front of her for the first time. the blondes hair was slightly wavy like always, she was wearing a long sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. it looked like she had thrown the clothes on last minute.

"im not drunk" Samantha finally denied with a shake of her head.

"no?" Georgia raised an eyebrow "then why does my car now reek like tequila" she shot back making the raven haired girl giggle softly.

"you're no fun" she said with a fake frown and the action earned an eye roll from the blonde. Samantha rested her hands on her thighs, her dress had hiked up a bit causing her to pull it down which made her realize she had the nicotine stick in her lap so she brought it up to her lips and inhaled deeply.

Georgia sighed and watched as the smoke blew out of the girls nose and mouth filling the car with the smell of watermelon.

"you shouldn't do that" she said.

"do what?" Samantha questioned confused.

"smoke"

"why not? it helps me relax" she said and took another puff out of it. Georgia sighed heavily.

"your eighteen, Samantha. you shouldn't be smoking this young"

Samantha waved her off lazily, "it's okay. the worlds ending anyway" she shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. Georgia hated how a smile tugged at her lips. she'd seen the girl high before but that was nothing like drunk Samantha. when she was high she was calm and collected but drunk her seemed to be clingy, talkative as well but also extremely stubborn. she hated the fact that she found it amusing.

the blonde had her hands resting in her lap and her body was slightly turned to face the raven haired girl. "do you want me to take you home?" she asked.

Samantha shook her head, "nope"

"then why am i here?"

"because i missed you" Samantha shrugged simply.

"Samantha" Georgia sighed out, her hand pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"what's wrong?" the younger girl frowned and reached over to grab the blondes hand. Georgia flinched, not expecting to be touched but almost immediately after relaxed.

"i can't just come see you because you miss me. besides, you shouldn't miss me. we both know this is wrong" she said a lot more serious now. Samantha didn't seem to be paying much attention as her eyes were trained on their locked hands.

"we're not doing anything wrong"

Georgias eyes closed and she let out a deep sigh, "that doesn't matter. it would be weird if Ginny and Ellen talked in secret or even smoked weed together, wouldn't it?" she questioned now fully grabbing Samanthas attention.

her eyebrows knit together, "that's different"

"how is that different, Samantha?" she sighed tiredly.

"my mom is like - fifty and Ginny is only fifteen. i'm legal now and your only thirty" she explained stubbornly.

Georgia let out a tired chuckle, "seriously Samantha. "this isn't a j-"

but before she could finish Samantha pulled her hand away from hers and leaned over the console so she's closer to the blonde. there was still a decent amount of space between them but she was closed enough to hear the way Georgia's breath hitched in her throat. "i know what you present to me can be" she whispered lowly. her breath was precious tequila and a slight watermelon smell, both from her vape and the candies she had been snacking on throughout the night.

"what's that?" Georgia whispered her eyes glancing between Samantha's lips and her eyes. the girl inched closer.

the raven haired girls lips were slightly parted and her tongue ran over her bottom lip to try and keep the blondes eyes where they were. her body was started to burn and all she wanted to do was to kiss her. she didn't care about morals or about what everyone would think, she just wanted her. she knew Georgia felt the same way, she had to otherwise she wouldn't have smoked with her, wouldn't have went out of her way to find her instagram and DM her, wouldn't have driven there just because she had said she missed her. wouldn't be letting Samantha invade her personal space the way she was in that moment.

"a kiss" the raven haired girl whispered and pressed her lips against the blondes before Georgia had a chance to react. Samantha cupped the woman's face as she softly pressed their lips together, her bottom lip trapped in between Georgias lips where she froze. she didn't want to move, wanted Georgia to take control of the kiss so she knew she hadn't fucked up by listening to her heart and not the rational side of her.

but that never happened and Samantha felt her heart deflate. she quickly pulled away, a lot sober than she had been just a second ago as she looked at Georgia with regretful eyes. "im so sorry, i shouldn't have done that" she rushed out nervously. her heart was beating so fast and he could hear it pulse in her ears, her breathing was now irregular and she felt as if she was being suffocated in the car.

she expected Georgia to lecture and tell her that what she did was wrong or even just a disappointed head shake like she would get from Ellen when she'd do something wrong - even if it was extremely rare but she got neither. instead she felt a hand grab the back of her head and a pair of soft lips crashing down on her own.

she lot out an inaudible squeak and her eyes widened in complete and utter surprise. was she dreaming? was this really happening? did she pass out on the couch and none of this had eveb happened? her thoughts faded out as she felt Georgia kissing her with a little more force so she'd kiss her back which she did happily.

Georgias right hand was still on the back of the younger girls head whilst the other was resting on the console between them. Samantha blindly grabbed it and placed it on her exposed thigh, her body was abnormally warm and Georgia could feel that heat radiate from Samantha's leg. the raven girl had one hand on the blondes jaw and the other resting on top of Georgias that she had put on her thigh.

the kiss went from slow to needy in a matter of seconds, heavy breathing echoed throughout the car along with the sound of their lips smacking against each other hastily. Samantha whimpered into the blondes mouth and she began to lead her hand further up her thigh but before she could reach her dress Georgia had pulled away completely.

Samantha looked at the blonde with parted and swollen lips, her eyes slightly lidded and her chest heaving up and down. even though the kiss hadn't lasted long, it was filled with so much passion she could barely breathe.

they were so fucked.

#georgia miller x fem!reader #ginny and georgia #georgia miller #ginny miller #marcus baker #maxine baker #abby littman #gxg #lesbian

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bellewintersroe · 9 months

Text

Carlos Sainz x Celebrity OC… Part 4.

Okay, I know I said this next chapter was going to be spicy but I don’t know if it fits in with the story so it’s just gonna be some Carlos x Jenna fluff of their first few days and I promise part 5 will be spicy 🌶️🌶️ Again any apologies if I’ve used the wrong name for the OC, I’ve gone through and tried my best to correct any mistakes so hopefully there isn’t any! No warnings, I’ve tried to make this a fun little chapter with mainly Carlos x OC x Platonic!Charles. Just some badly translated French, Italian and Spanish. Jenna does her first interview with Carlos since their first date together and things are overtly flirty. The only thing breaking that tension? Charles Leclerc the proud 3rd wheel.

“Good night.” Carlos smiled knowingly as I rested against the hotel room door frame. “I’ll see you on Thursday.” I spoke softly, shyly glancing down to my hands. “You’ll be doing the interview?” He spoke quietly as I nodded back up to the dark haired man.

“Yeah, thank you for tonight anyway, you really didn’t have to pay.”

“I’ve got it all covered.” He shook his head firmly. “Well I owe you.” “No, never.” He hushed as I giggled slightly. He was adamant all night that I wouldn’t pay, he almost looked offended when I offered to buy a €7 crepe for him. “Okay. I feel bad.”

“I know how you can pay me back.” He borderline giggled as I gazed up to his eyes. He had a shy expression, a childlike amusement spreading in his eyes. “What’re you gonna say?” I let out a soft laugh as he giggled again. “I can’t, it’s really embarrassing.” He rumbled our laughter, putting a hand on my shoulder. “What? Was it for a kiss or something?” I snickered causing him to snicker harder. “That’s so cheesy!” I teased, nudging his shoulder as he moved closer, cupping either side of my face as I chuckled out before he pressed a quick kiss to my lips. It was a little hard because both of us were laughing and he kept bumping his teeth against mine clumsily.

“Sorry.” He snickered, kissing me more gently as I ran my hand over his bicep, enjoying the feeling of his muscle. He was so toned, he was literally unreal. “You make me laugh.” I commented with a shy smile once we broke apart.

“I hope so.. I’ll see you Thursday, yeah?” He spoke as I nodded, swallowing the urge to let the most excitable screech of laughter that would most likely scare him off. “Okay.” He smiled, eyeing up my lips once more in a manner that made my knees week. With one more lingering kiss we’d parted ways and I’d fainted as soon as I got back into my hotel room. Not literally, but I wanted to. The heaviest sigh escaped my mouth as I relived his kisses over and over again, swooning at the thought of his plump lips pressed up against my own.

Now there was only two more days until I’d see him again…

————————————————————————

“Hello, I’m back in M-Mon-“ I burst out in uncontrollable laughter as the two men besides me joined in. “I can’t- I can’t! Okay, I’m sorry!” I waved my hands at the camera crew who would crack me up further with their smirks and grimaces to bite back laughter.

“Okay, I’m calm.” I turned over to Carlos who has his hand over his eyes giggling. “Why is this so funny?” Charles then asked, the two Ferrari boys stood at either side of me as I straightened my back, dedicated to getting the introduction right this time.

“Somethings made her nervous… it’s set you off, hasn’t it, Jen?” Lisa asked, making my cheeks warm up. It’s as though she knew. I mean- maybe she did, Anise had a loud mouth when she was drunk. I didn’t blame her.

“Nothing to be nervous of.” Carlos shrugged from besides me, making my cheeks grow even warmer. “Oh- I’m going red, I need- okay, I’ll do it seriously now.” I pushed my blonde hair over my shoulder, clearing my throat and taking a couple deep breaths.

“Hi, I’m with Carlos and Charles-“ Charles burst out laughing from besides me, trying to hold it in as I burst out another giggle, my shoulder grazing against Carlos’. “Charles!” I exclaimed but Lisa ushered me to continue. “Um and we’re back in Monaco- and this interviews a mess I’m sorry- but we’re gonna um…” I covered my mouth from giggling as the two amused boys besides me watched.

“We’re gonna drive a car blindfolded!” Both of them started laughing again as I felt Carlos’ hand rest on my shoulder for support. “Not a real car!” Somebody cleared up from behind the cameras. Poor men were probably fed up of my nonsense. “Not a real car! Anyway- who wants to go first?” I attempted to usher the interview on, despite the fact I was blubbering out bursts of laughter every two seconds. Charles had lost it, he couldn’t even hide his laughter as Carlos jumped forwards.

“I’ll go.” He ran his hand off my shoulder, leaving it feeling slightly cold as I giggled again, nervous from his touch. “Okay, Carlos is going first.” I inhaled again, biting down harshly on my chewing gum when I almost inhaled it. That would not have been a good look.

“Where’s my blind fold?” The Spanish man smiled up to me as I turned to where Lisa threw one over, handing it over as he smiled up to me, before tying the black cloth around, over his eye. “Charles you gotta direct me!” Carlos exclaimed as the other man ensured his eyes were fully covered.

“I will try my best.”

“Ai, ai, ai, this is difficult.” Carlos muttered, feeling for where everything was on the simulator. I guided his hands to the wheel amused as I watched on as the chaos unfolded. Surprisingly the ‘interview’ went kinda well, it was chaotic but people enjoyed that. I had a good time, and even though I was nervous as hell with Carlos next to me, I’d managed to calm myself down from my giggling fit earlier.

“Make him crash.” Carlos whispered in my ear, cupping his hand as his fingers nudged through the strands of my hair. I didn’t know if it was purposeful or not, but it made my stomach twist with butterflies. “How?” I smiled back to him as he nodded me to follow him, pointing at the wheel as I reached forwards, nudging the wheel further and further to the left.

“Okay, I’m- Carlos where are you?! Why am I turning?!” Charles exclaimed in surprise as the whole simulator began jittering violently before he’d crashed directly into the wall. “Nooo!” He cried out dramatically, Carlos clapping his hands in amusement as I jumped back, acting all innocent.

“What happened?! Why did you crash?” I exclaimed as Charles forced the blindfold off his eyes.

“Carlos you fucker! You turned my wheel!” He jumped up out of the seat as I bit back a laughter. “Wasn’t me!” Carlos snitched as my mouth opened, mocking a gasp as the Spanish man laughed, holding either side of my arms and giving me a quick squeeze.

“It was you?!” Charles was wide eyes. “You are a bad influence on her.” The monegasque playfully shoved Carlos. “Now it’s your turn!” Charles pointed out. “I don’t even drive in real life!” I held out my hands.

“Even better!” Charles responded excitedly. “You don’t have to do it blindfolded.” Carlos exclaimed. “No! That’s not fair!” Charles held out the blindfold, clearly competitive about the whole thing.

“She doesn’t even drive!” Carlos defended as I climbed into the seat, feeling the Spanish man adjust the seat so I was further forwards. “Such a gentleman.” Charles pointed out before plopping the blindfold over my head. “Okay, I’ll use the blindfold but don’t expect me to be even able to start this thing.” I was just as shit as I thought, first of all I couldn’t even start the damn simulator, then my chair was constantly jittering from something I was doing wrong on the pedals. Who made a simulator this hard in the first place?! Maybe that was a stupid question. “Keep your foot down! No, no!” Charles screeched out in laughter, snatching the wheel to turn it- I was assuming back on the track. “I don’t know where I’m going.” I worried, yanking the wheel back to where I felt him turn me.

Carlos choked out a laugh. “No pensé que serías tan mala!” (I did not think you’d be this bad!).

“Qué? ¡Soy una mierda!” (What? I’m shit!). I exclaimed back out in Spanish. “Oh my god.” Charles snickered when the simulator lurched forwards and the simulator jittered furious.

“Mamma Mia.” Carlos playfully spoke as I lifted the blindfold back off my face. I had indeed crashed, and I had been going backwards for a good- “7 laps?! I was backwards?!” Both the boys began laughing profusely as I groaned, knowing they’d been messing me around the whole time. “Whatever, I think I was good.” I joked, biting down on my tongue as I jumped out of the simulator.

“Amazing.” Carlos teased back to me as I smiled back up to him. “Thank you!” I attempted to joke along but ruined it with a chuckle.

“Um, anyway, thanks for watching- if anybody made it this far in. This afternoon we’ll be joined with Daniel and Landon to see if McLaren can beat Ferrari’s high score.” I wrapped it all up as Carlos snickered. “You are funny.”

“That was the most fun I have had in one of these in a while.” Charles admitted as I secretly was super happy about the admission. There’s nothing worse than boring interviews that these drivers already had too many of to do.

Thankfully, we’d all have a break from the filming, I didn’t mind, I was having great fun, I couldn’t lie. It was fun to do something different other than just asking things all day. I was looking over the table of endless amounts of food, eyeing up what looked to be blackberry seeds piled on top of some kind of cracker.

“It’s caviar.” A familiar voice spoke as mg hand immediately yanked away from the food. “Ew.” I accidentally spoke before looking up and seeing Carlos besides me. “Where did you come from?” I smiled, biting down on my lip as he carried a plate full of the most food I’d ever seen.

“From the interview.” He spoke like it was obvious. “Holy shit, that’s a mountain of food!” I eyed him back up as he flashed me a toothy smile.

“I’m a hungry man, after this my diet starts again.”

“Fuck dieting.” I shrugged. “You never diet?” A

“Nuh uh, I don’t have the self control.”

“How do you look so good then?” He flirted as I turned back up to him with a perked brow. “I am being serious?!”

“I just… I don’t know.” I blushed, completely forgetting I was walking to put food on my plate. I was too caught up with being in Carlos’ Vinci it’s.

“You’re red now.” He pointed out. “Oh, Carlos don’t!” I laughed. “I’m sorry, will you come sit with me? Charles is there as well, he’s lonely.” I turned over my shoulder to see Charles eating alone like a lost school boy.

“Poor guy.” I giggled before looking up to Carlos again. “We best join him…” I’d been sat with them for a couple of minutes, swinging my legs nervously when I accidentally caught Carlos’ with my own. “Sorry.” I turned to see him smirking. “It’s okay.” He shook his head and continued eating as I joined back in the conversation with Charles.

“-sorry, and then she never ended up coming, so.. now it’s just me.” I shrugged, “do you enjoy it? Like the racing in general?” Charles asked. Just as I was about to answer I felt the nudge from a foot under the table once again that almost made me choke on my food.

“Mmmh!” I perked, knowing it was Carlos’ foot that had nudged against my own in a playful manner. “I didn’t when I was little, I have to admit I was forced by my brothers to watch it. But no I do, I have for quite a while.” Carlos let out a laugh at my words, as though he was being soo casual and definitely not playing footsies with me under the table. “Was it karting you used to do?” I then asked Charles, purposefully nudging my foot back into Carlos’s as he kicked back almost instantly. This time I jumped, reacting physically to the kick under the table. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it to be that hard.” Carlos quickly put a hand on my arm.

“What are you doing? Playing footsies under there?!” Charles burst out in laughter. “No, he kicked me!” I lied. “Purposefully.” Carlos teased, biting back down into a burger.

“Jésus, je suis en troisième roue...” (Jesus I am third wheeling). My eyebrow perked back up to Charles.

“Je peux aussi parler français, tu sais.” (I can speak French too, you know). His eyes widened in surprise. “Really?!” Charles eyes landed on Carlos. “Sposala.” (Marry her). “Anche italiano Charles.” (Italian too, Charles).

#carlos sainz x reader #Carlos Sainz x OC #Charles Leclerc x Reader

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redwinetalks · 20 days

Text

I Won't Let You Sink

Chapter 3

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 5.2k

Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC

Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff , protective Finnick, Finnick is a sap, panic attack, violence/gore, death, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov

Summary: It's the next year of the Hunger Games. Silk is a mentor now and Finnick will not let her go through this alone!!

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~ Silk ~

The old apartment mom and I lived in didn’t have many windows, but that hardly matters when you barely see the sun in the sky. If you live closer to factories, the smog is so thick that you never see the blue in the sky. Victor’s Village is at the edge of town so the air quality is better. There’s still smog, but I can see the sky. The sun doesn’t have to try as hard to come out. It shines in my face and wakes me almost instantly. I’m still getting used to the brightness and the warmth that it brings me, but it feels inviting. It feels familiar. My mouth twitches into a small smile whenever the sun wakes me up. Like a good friend has come to visit and take the darkness away.

I feel the sun’s comfort even on the days I have to leave for the Capitol. It tells me that I’ll be back soon and I won’t lose that warmth. I will find it in Finnick O’dair. Maybe it’s because he himself is always so warm. His hands are warm when he places one on my cheek to ease my anxiety. His chest and his arms are warm when he pulls me into calming hug. His legs are warm when one brushes up again mine as we sit together. Every time I feel Finnick’s warmth I’m reminded of the sun.

We’ve grown closer with each visit to the Capitol. We regularly find each other when one of us is needing a moment to breathe. I think we’ve developed a sense for when it happens. I think Finnick likes it when I look to him for a way out of a dull conversation. He always dramatically whisks me away, playing hero.

Finnick is so much different than the persona he turns on for everyone else. He isn’t arrogant or self centered at all. The real Finnick always wants to focus on how I’m feeling instead of himself. He can get so worked up and always wants to help anyone in need. It took me a bit to grow fully comfortable with his care, to let him in. I’ve never had someone worry over me the way he does.

However, Finnick never wants me to worry over him. He has this idea in his head that he’s supposed to be the caretaker. That his own troubles are irrelevant. It’s like pulling teeth, getting him to be truly vulnerable. I never push too hard as I don’t want to overstep, but I can tell he wants the comfort. It’s almost as if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. I can only imagine all of the feelings he has shut inside. With each visit I try to open that door a bit more.

I don’t dread my train ride to the Capitol in the same way I used to. I would panic and I could never sleep leading up to my visits. I still feel that gut wrenching anxiety, and I always will, but now I don’t have to go through it alone. I now can give myself assurance that there will be a shoulder I can lean on. There’s someone who can look at me and understand the pain that I feel. I don’t have to see myself in the mirror falling apart when someone will come help me pick up the pieces.

This doesn’t mean that what happens at the Capitol is no longer traumatic. It is still very much so. I will never get used to the pain. The way these people look at me and don’t see a real person. They don’t see a human being that deserves life. They see someone who won their favorite show. A prize that they can play with. They can customize me in almost every way. They pick what I wear, what makeup is put on me, how my hair is done. They give me instructions on how to behave and how to give them their fantasy. They don’t see anything wrong with it and they never will.

“Don’t get lost in there, sweetheart.” Finnick sits next to me on the couch in his room, twirling a piece of my hair.

“How was your shower?” I turn to give him my attention. His blonde hair is still damp and a few wavy strands rest on his forehead.

“Not scalding enough.” he jokes. “Did ya miss me? I’m sure those twenty minutes were quite boring.”

“Nope.” I say, popping the “p”. “Barely even noticed.”

“I’m hurt, sweetheart.” He puts his hand on his chest and gives me a sad, pouty expression.

“So dramatic. One girl turns you down and suddenly your ego is shattered.”

“Only when it’s you, beautiful.” He smirks at me and I can feel the warmth creeping up my face. Finnick is the only person who has ever given me this kind of warmth. It still surprises me every time, this feeling I’ve never felt before.

“You’ll get over it.” I shrug him, and the feeling, off and then turn to look back at the night sky. He laughs to himself and sighs.

“Did you know I’d never seen the stars before coming to the Capitol?” I suddenly say. Finnick faces me with a look of shock.

“What? How is that?” I smile, his surprised expression making me laugh softly.

“I’ve seen them in pictures but, you know how I told you the water at the shore in 8 is polluted?” He nods, now giving me a more focused expression. “Well, the sky is too. The factories cause the air to be polluted as well. There’s this smog that makes the sky look all hazy. During the day I can barely tell that the sky is blue. And at night, I can’t see any stars at all. I didn’t know that they were this beautiful.” I’m still gazing at them. They’re so much brighter than I thought they’d be. Finnick turns to look at them as well.

“They are, but you’re far more beautiful.” He says this so genuinely. I look at him surprised, yet confused. I’m taken aback. It’s not like Finnick hasn’t given me a compliment before. He’s kind and charming. He knows how to make someone feel seen. But this feels different. His tone doesn’t sound flirtatious, like it usually does when he gives a compliment. It’s much sweeter, much softer. He doesn’t give me enough time to dwell on it before he continues speaking. “When I’m home in 4, I sit on the beach and watch the stars almost every night. It’s so peaceful, watching the sun go down and then seeing the moon glow so bright. The sky goes from light blue to a vibrant orange or a soothing purple. And then it turns this dark blue, almost black. The contrast of the night sky and the sparkling stars can be breathtaking. One day, when you visit me, we can stargaze together.”

A pang of jealousy hits me. As much as I love my home, it hasn’t been able to give me these wondrous experiences. The labor that is forced upon us all in Panem affects how we get to experience life. And unfortunately, I didn’t get to grow up in district 4. I didn’t grow up in a district with clear skies. I grew up in a district where being outside for too long can make it difficult to breathe. Sometimes I feel like 8 gets punished the most because of our rebellious nature, but I know that every district struggles with their own hardships caused by the Capitol. It isn’t fair of me to compare us all. I know that I’m just feeling bitter, now more than ever.

“I don’t think I can be too hopeful of that.” He frowns at me. I know that he’s trying to give me something positive to think about, but my mind won’t allow me to dream. “How could I dream of something so wonderful when I know it’ll never happen?” He takes my hand and squeezes tight.

“Come with me.” He gets off the couch and leads me out of the bedroom and onto the balcony. I don’t question what he’s doing. As I get to know Finnick, I learn how he goes to any dramatic lengths to help me feel better. His heart is so big. The fact that he hasn’t lost who he is to the Capitol’s torture makes him one of the strongest people I know.

He ushers me to sit on the ground next to him. When I do, he then lays on his back and I copy him. I look at his eyes. Even at night I swear that they sparkle.

“Look up, pretty girl.” I smile softly at him and then do as he says. “If I can’t yet take you to gaze at the stars in 4, then I’ll take this for now.” He holds my hand and then the few tears that I have been holding in finally let go. The night sky is vast and breathtaking, just like he said. I’ve never just taken a second to look at it like this.

“Thank you” I say in almost a whisper.

“I will always do whatever I can to bring a smile to your face.” He says and twirls a strand of my hair again. I turn back to face him and I’m looking into those sea green eyes. I watch them as they study my face. We both stay like this for a while, still holding hands. I feel a tightness in my chest. It’s like a pull towards Finnick, but I choose to ignore it. I let the moment continue to be just this. Just us looking at each other and feeling like we are the only people in the world. I’ve never felt the way I do now, but I would like this feeling to stay forever. It feels so comforting. I feel safe here. In this little world that is just me and Finnick.

In the middle of the mattress, Finnick’s hand still holds onto mine. This is the first time we’ve fallen asleep right next to each other. He usually sleeps on the floor, going against my protests. But tonight, we lay in the bed. The bed that I used to be so afraid of. It doesn’t feel as scary with Finnick here. He seems to make all of my troubles fade into the back of my mind. I could never thank him enough for keeping me from sinking into that dark abyss. The next time I see him I’ll be a mentor. We won’t be back at the Capitol for parties, we’ll be back for the 69th annual Hunger Games. It is utterly terrifying that I will be the one guiding tributes, but he’s told me how he won’t let me go through it alone. He will be beside me every second he can, and I hope that I can make the year less daunting for him as well.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

The day of the reaping is finally here. The leading up to it felt somehow fast and slow at the same time. Today I get to relive the trauma of being selected by seeing two kids walk to the stage with the same gut wrenching fear that I had. I am terrified for them and terrified that I will let them down. Even if I do my job to the best of my ability, only one will come home. I will still lose one of my own. I don’t know how I’ll be able to get off the train and face everyone when I return home.

District 8 is the sixth largest district. I know mainly just the people who’ve worked in the factories near me or live close to my home. My old home. I’m familiar with some who I see frequently in the heart of the district. Where people sell food or an assortment of clothes and items at their separate stalls. That doesn’t matter so much, though. It’s not better for someone I know or don’t know to be picked. Either way a child is going to die and a family is going to suffer. I don’t know how Cecilia pushes through. Woof, the other victor in 8, isn’t all there. She’s basically on her own. His dementia has caused him to be less and less involved. A part of me is happy for him that he is losing his memories. Maybe he’s losing the worst ones and is actually living peacefully. That’s what I would like to believe.

I wonder how Cecilia feels today. How did she feel when she was mentoring me? How did she feel when Pinn, my district partner, died? How does it feel doing this year after year, especially now that she has children of her own. One day her children will be old enough to be reaped. I can’t even imagine the fear of having to mentor your own child. The thoughts swirling around in my head make me dizzy.

I wince when I realize I’ve been digging my nails into my palm. I haven’t done that in a while. Finnick stops me whenever he notices and the habit has slowly started to break. However, it seems like I’m picking it back up with the additional stress.

“Honey, are you ready?” My mom peaks through my door and looks at me with a sad smile. She holds my sweater over her arm. It’s one that she knit for me during a sleepless night. When I was away for one of my trips to the Capitol. She still doesn’t know the whole reason that I have to go. She tries to get the answer out of me every few weeks, but I never let myself reveal the truth. It’s just meaningless parties that I have to attend as a victor. I know she doesn’t believe me, but for now that’s all I can give her.

“Just about.” I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. I use a scarf to keep the hair out of my face for today. The green details complement the dark purple color of my dress. I wanted to wear some of my favorite colors, thinking they’d somehow make me feel more positive. But nothing about today will be positive.

��You’re going to get through this. You are stronger than they know. You’ll have Cecilia with you. And Finnick when you get to the Capitol.” I nod and mom pulls me in for a hug. She squeezes me tight and kisses my head. “I’ll be in the crowd, but I won’t get to say goodbye before you leave. You’ll be back home in a few weeks. No matter how bad it gets just remember that this time you’re coming home.” She holds my cheek in her hand and rubs her thumb back and forth. I look at her and keep nodding. I’m coming home this time.

Standing beside Cecilia, I watch all the kids fall in line. It’s such a weird feeling, not being part of that line. Not being part of the rows and rows of young girls. I should feel some kind of relief. I no longer have to worry about my name being called, but I still feel that worry. It’s just different. It’s now about who will be called on for me to mentor.

Cecilia must sense the anxiety radiating off of me because she starts to rub my back. I look to her and she gives me a kind smile. She doesn’t have to say anything to me. I know that she’s telling me I’ll be okay. I’ll get through it. After all these years, Cecilia is still standing. She has a loving husband and two beautiful children. Watching her gives me a sense of hope that I could have a happy future. It’s hard to see right now, but maybe one day I’ll eventually be okay.

I shake myself from my thoughts and see they’ve chosen a female tribute. I don’t know her, but she looks to be about 12 years old. Her first year in the reaping and she’s been picked. She’s already crying and the escort, Veridie, is smiling as wide and brightly as possible. I clench my fists. The anger I feel growing inside of me is indescribable.

She glides over to the other bowl to pick the male tribute name. I’m trying not to start hyperventilating. I need to look as calm as possible. I’ve done this before. I didn’t allow myself to react at my own reaping. Why is it so much harder now? Because these kids are going to be looking up to me to survive. The pressure is so heavy. It feels like I’m being pushed into the ground.

My eyes focus on Veridie as she shouts the male tribute’s name and I realize I know this tribute. We went to school together and worked in the same factory. He’s the same age as me, 18. He was so close making it. So close to being free.

The panic is rising in my chest. I can feel tears brimming in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. I feel horrible. I can’t do this. How the fuck am I supposed to do this?

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

~ Finnick ~

The train ride to the Capitol was the same as it is every year. The air is tense as I explain the hell my tributes are about to go through. I teach them about getting sponsors and making allies while Mags tries to do some consoling.

I wonder how Silk is doing right now. I wish I was with her right now. I wish I could try to ease her distress. I’m afraid she’ll be more closed off when I finally see her. She doesn’t want to look weak. She doesn’t want for people to be able to read her, but I know how strong she is. How she’s feeling right now doesn’t make her weak. She’s always able to hold herself together when she knows she’s being watched. That takes an enormous amount of strength. I don’t want her to feel like she has to be that strong around me. I don’t want her to close herself back up after I’ve finally helped her relax.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the last night I saw her. She looked so beautiful in the glow of the night sky. With her hand in mine, I felt an electricity shooting up my body. I never wanted to let her go. And when she looked at me. I could have kissed her right there. I wish I had swept her up in my arms, but I don’t know how she feels. I don’t want her to feel comfortable with me now and then ruin it all. Her hand in mine is enough. I never want to let her go.

I still haven’t seen Silk after arriving at the Capitol. The opening ceremony will be happening soon and I’m hoping to catch her. I just need to see how she’s holding up.

Mags keeps teasing me about how I’ve been so distracted. She continues to do so while I’m looking around the carriages. I spot Cecilia, but I’m struggling to find Silk. I stifle a laugh, thinking about how her short stature is probably the reason I don’t see her.

I make my way to Cecilia. If I can’t find Silk I can at least ask about her. As I’m almost to the older mentor, I finally spot her. She looks even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. She’s talking to her female tribute. I see the kindness in her eyes as she tells the girl what to expect. Even though this child is a spectacle to the Capitol, Silk tries to make it sound more magical. She tells the girl how lovely she looks and that being on the carriage feels like gliding through the air.

“Go show everyone out there how strong you are. I’ll be right here when you get back.” She rubs the girls arm and then guides her onto the carriage. When she turns back around she locks eyes with me.

“Finnick” she says with a sweet smile. My heartbeat speeds up a little, her focus now being on me.

“Hello, sweetheart. Want a sugar cube?” Her brow furrows and I let out a breath of a laugh. “They’re for the horses, but I think you deserve a treat just as sweet as you.” She rolls her eyes, as she usually does when I flirt with her, but then takes it. She pops it into her mouth and I can’t help but look at her lips. I bet they taste just as sweet as that sugar. I take a deep breath to try and keep my focus. A task that proves to be difficult whenever I’m around her.

“Thank you.” She doesn’t say more than that. She has on a brave face, but I think that’s all she can give right now.

“How are you holding up? It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been…okay” She says distantly. She’s looking just next to me, eyes lost in space. Her mind must be racing.

“Anything going on in that beautiful head of yours that you’d want to talk about?”

“Finnick…how do I do this?” Her eyes now stare directly into mine and I feel heavy. How do you prepare kids to go and fight to the death? There’s no real answer to that question, but she knows that. If there was an answer I would’ve told her immediately. So would Cecilia. What she’s really asking is how do you cope? How do you keep from breaking down every second?

“You just…you have to push through this first year. It’ll still be hard next year and so on, but you learn the routine. You know what to expect and it makes it easier to process.” I rub her arm and she hums a response. I want to give her more comfort, but I don’t want to overwhelm her. We’re in too public of a space for me to fully embrace her. “You’ll be okay, though. I’m here if you need anything at all, sweet girl. I mean that.” Her lips twitch up into the softest smile. Her hand cups my cheek and I could almost melt into her touch.

“I know, sweet Finnick.”

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*

~ Silk ~

After the long days of training and interviews end, the watch party starts and I sit next to Cecilia. Her demeanor has gotten more tense throughout these past few days. I know she’s feeling drained and I wish I could be more help. She’s told me not to worry about it. She just wants me to try and get through this first year the best that I can.

We’re in a room full of mentors from the other districts. Finnick is sitting with Mags. He’s tying and untying knots into some rope and I assume it’s to help with stress. I see Haymitch in the corner drowning himself in liquor and I wonder if I’ll have to drink like that to get through these trips in the future. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I don’t think I’d be surprised if it does. It’ll just mean I have something in common with my father.

The countdown is starting and I’m gripping the couch cushions. I don’t know what to expect. If I’m being honest with myself, my tributes don’t stand a good chance at winning. Both of their training scores were low. Not impressive enough to get any sponsors. It’s horrible, but I know that they’ll die. I just hope it’s quick and painless. That’s all you can really wish for.

The games start and everything is moving so quickly. I can barely even keep track of where my tributes are. I hear the canon going off over and over. Cecilia gasps quietly and holds onto my hand. When I look to see what has happened, I feel like the air has been punched out of me. That little girl, my tribute, is dead on the ground with an axe in her head. Just a few feet away my other tribute is falling to the ground after being stabbed by a career.

“Cecilia” I don’t know what to do. I feel like the room is spinning. “Um…I think I need to take a minute.”

“There’s a bathroom just outside the door. Take however much time you need. I’ll go grab some water.” She rubs my arm and then helps me stand. I try to walk as calmly as I can out of the room. As soon as the doors close behind me I rush into the bathroom and start hyperventilating. There are no tears flowing, there’s only panic. Panic from me not doing enough to help them. Panic from having to watch their gruesome murders. Panic from failing them. Everything around me is spinning and I feel my stomach churning.

“Silk? Can I come in?” That’s not Cecilia. I’m too upset to be able to focus. I don’t even answer. I just keep failing at trying to breathe.

I whip my head at the door as it slightly opens. Finnick peaks in calmly and then shifts into extreme worry once he sees me.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re okay. Look at me.” He holds onto my arms and locks eyes with me. I shake my head at him.

“They’re dead. They’re dead, Finnick. And I couldn’t help them.” He pulls me into a tight embrace. He has one hand on my head and the other rubbing my back. Even at the Capitol he still smells of salty air.

“It’s not your fault, Silk. None of this is your fault.” I’m still shaking and my breathing is still rapid. I hear what he’s telling me but I can’t process it. The panic in my stomach is rising.

“I’m gonna be sick.” I mumble and push him away. I rush over to the toilet and then I feel Finnick’s hands grab my hair out of my face. He sits next to me and continues to rub my back. “You don’t have to stay in here.” I say, breathily.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl.” I sigh deeply and then flush away the sickness. I still feel awful, but at least the anxiety attack has ceased.

He hands me a glass of water and I gladly take it. I clean myself up at the sink and then slowly sip on the water. Finnick stays close by, hand still on my back. I feel calmer now that he is here. I feel the warmth that he brings with him. I lean my head against his chest and he kisses the top of my head. Somehow, even during this horrendous night, he still makes my heart swell.

“Why don’t we go and look at the stars, huh?” He runs his hand through my hair and I nod, still leaning on him. He guides me out of the bathroom and upstairs to his room.

Once inside, he grabs a blanket and wraps it around me. We walk out to the balcony and the warm air hits my face. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Finnick pulls me close to him and I feel myself letting go of some tension.

I wonder how I’d be doing right now if I never met Finnick. I wonder if my nights alone at the Capitol would start to drive me to insanity. There’s a part of me that is afraid of much he means to me. How it feels like I need him. I want to be strong enough to hold myself up, but that isn’t how people work. Pushing others away only makes things worse. I’ve always been afraid of letting people in. I usually keep to myself. The only person who truly knows me is my mother, but I think Finnick is starting to know me. Really know me. That fills me up with so much anxiety. But it’s not really the bad kind. It’s more of a feeling of want. I want Finnick to stay in my life for a long time.

“I wish I lived amongst the stars.” I say while we both stare at the sky. “I want to be the moon and feel the sun shining on me, making the me glow.” He looks down at me while listening intently. I feel like Finnick is always shining. And his sunshine makes me glow. He casts away the darkness. “You’re the sun, Finnick. You are so bright and so beautiful.” I run my hand through his hair and then rest it on his cheek. He’s smiling and I rub my thumb over the dimple that appears. My eyes rest on his lips and I feel that pull that I felt last time we looked at the stars. This time though, I don’t want to keep the moment still. I don’t want to resist the pull.

I raise myself up on my tiptoes and pull his face towards mine. I close my eyes and kiss him. I breathe in his sea salty lips that have a hint of sweetness from a sugar cube. One of his arms holds onto my back while the other tightly wraps around my torso, and there is nothing else in the world. It is just me and Finnick and the stars.

Our kiss eventually breaks, but he doesn’t move his face away. His forehead stays resting on mine.

“Silk…” he says breathlessly. His cheeks are flushed and his sea green eyes are locked onto mine. I wait for him to continue speaking, but he doesn’t. He pulls me in for another kiss. This time feels even more passionate. He holds me even tighter and my feet are just barely touching the ground.

“For the past two years, I thought I’d never feel true happiness again. I was completely defeated.” He starts and I’m now back to standing fully on the ground. “Meeting you has felt like a dream. You bring me serenity amidst all the despair I have endured. Your glow, your incandescent light has guided me out of that pit I fell into. I can’t express how grateful I am to have you in my life.” He still has one hand around my torso, keeping me close, but now his other hand brushes through my hair and then rests just between my jaw and neck. He glides his thumb over my lips and then traces my cheek. I smile and then breathe out a light laugh.

“Such a sweet talker.” He gives me the eye roll that I’m always giving him, but then he laughs and kisses my head.

“I have to keep up the dramatics for you, pretty girl.” I hum happily in response. We stay like this for a minute, just holding each other. I think back to the reason we’re up here in the first place. My face falls and I squeeze Finnick a bit tighter.

“Thank you for helping me get through all of this. Especially tonight.”

“I wasn’t going to break my promise to you. I am here for you and I always will be.”

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading! I had some rough writer's block for this one sooo hope its okayyyy. I hope you enjoyed :) As always I am open to kind feedback. Also let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapter!! <3

Tag list <3

@yourmumstoyboy2-blog @ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @stxr-slut

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paddockbunny · 1 year

Text

Two

Summary: Aria Armund is hired by Alpine as an "image guardian" for a reluctant Pierre Gasly - AKA she is hired to be his "babysitter". What happens as the season progresses and both of them have their buttons pressed by the other? And what happens when one of them suggests making a rather interesting bet? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Aria Armund (OC) Word Count : 3, 116 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, language, nudes being sent and received, slight female masturbation mention, I think that’s all… 💞Authors Note : Aria’s POV 🥰 thank you for the support on the last chapter folks! It means a lot!! If you want to be added to a tag list then please comment on the newest chapter not the one prior or anywhere else because it’s too hard to keep up with if it’s not all in the one place.

Aria

Fuck this day!

As soon as my shoes were kicked off I practically rushed toward the kitchen and hurriedly ripped open the tape that held closed one of the boxes sitting on the kitchen worktop, desperately trying to find a wine glass for the bottle of wine I purchased on my way home. God, this day needed to be over like, right now. The second a glass touched my fingertips I couldn’t have been anymore thankful that I got a twist cap wine so didn’t have to struggle trying to find a bottle opener. I watched as the gorgeous, beautiful ruby red liquid flowed easily from the thin neck of the bottle into the clear glass. A subconscious sigh left my lips at that moment. If I had thought this new job was going to be easy then boy was I wrong.

Pierre fucking Gasly. What a prick. He was so full of himself. Arrogance practically oozed out of him. It would have been laughable if he wasn’t so bloody misogynistic. My teeth ground together when I remembered how several times throughout the meeting he thought he was so sly but I caught him, each and every time he glanced at my boobs. Quickly, I swiped my large glass of wine off the counter and headed straight toward the sofa. I need to relax. Tension had been wracking my body all day. Even now, I could feel it in my shoulders, my neck, everywhere. As my head tipped back and I took another large swig of the alcoholic crimson merlot I spied my bag. It was laying on the floor with things practically bursting out of it. I really needed to get a larger one for all the shit I had to carry around with me now but shopping was low down on my priority list. However, the bag itself was not what caught my attention. My eyes honed straight in on the top of my new shiny work phone poking out of the inside pocket. A large part of my brain said fuck work while the other was already grasping hold of it after taking no more than a second to lunge for the object like it was giving out some weird siren call before I knew I was doing it. The recollection of Pierre’s resistance to give me his fucking passwords today played on my mind. Then it mixed with the memory of him smiling at his phone and asking if I’d “rather make it a threesome” as he left the shitty office they put me in - for the few weeks I needed it for before being stuck with the fucker for the whole year.

I took out the notepad Pierre had reluctantly wrote his passwords down in and opened up the freshly downloaded Instagram and Twitter apps ready to punch his details into. I had expected to eye roll when I read his passwords but actually they were just simple names and numbers which made very little sense to me.

Instagram:

Username : PierreGasly

Password : Pascale22/9/1996**PSG

Twitter:

Username : PierreGASLY

Password : 10Anthoine_Cate*7

I guessed they were probably family members and whatnot so it wasn’t really surprising. And I sipped more of my wine because I had a feeling I was going to need to brace myself for what I was going to read (and see). The moment I clicked on the little paper airplane arrow icon it suddenly dawned on me that if I had been asked to hand over my own passwords I would have immediately combed through everything and repeatedly hit delete, delete fucking delete. But this was Pierre Gasly. He wouldn’t have even considered deleting anything. He would be proud of all the conquests, one night stands and random faceless nudes he no doubt received and probably jerked off too because well, he was just that sort of person, wasn’t he? He presumably had them going back years and quite possibly enjoyed flicking through them sometimes just to get a kick from the girls that would physically throw themselves at him online in a desperate bid to get his attention. Perhaps sometimes it may have worked and he would have used his social media to arrange a hook-up where he would most likely forget the girls name by the following morning. That was the type of guy I was dealing with here.

Nothing particularly salacious could be found on his Twitter. There were a few suggestive comments here and there, which seemed to get some of his fans all hot and bothered. The one he had referred too today - the doggy comment that I really had to attempt not to pretend to vomit at - popped up and several more referring to things of a sexual nature most guys would have grown out of by 27. So I made a note to discuss keeping things a bit more respectable and PC in future. Digging a little deeper he had liked several racy, risqué tweets from other people (including fans) and again I had to jot down to tell him to reign his hormones in a little bit more than he was currently doing. Although, it wasn’t just the smutty natured comments Pierre had gone through and flung likes at freely. I managed to find tones of comments from journalists, insiders and general fans that were unsavoury toward Ocon (and a few aimed at the team) last season which was in no way going to be allowed now I had to keep an eye on him. It was exactly the type of stuff Alpine had an issue with and Pierre really needed to play ball before things became irreparable. I swigged another large sip from my glass as I finally went into his following list. Unsurprisingly, a couple of pornstars could be found amongst the hordes of sports personalities, brand sponsors and general celebrities. I ground my teeth a little and couldn’t help but note the type of adult actresses he was following - an insight into the type of girls he went for perhaps? Almost all were brunettes with big doe eyes, big lips and of course big boobs. They all seemed to be on younger side, y’know the type that could fake teenage babysitters and naughty neighbours next door. It was exactly what I would expect of Pierre. EXACTLY what I would expect. They were swiftly unfollowed and I felt like there was no way I could be prepared for switching to Instagram without a refill of my wine.

Pierre was most, prolific, shall we say on Instagram. His time spent scrolling on the app was very well known. His trigger happy thumb that fired out likes like hot dinners span a whole meme. “Liked by Pierre Gasly” was even on the back of t-shirts now. I didn’t need to deep dive on my research prior to meeting him to find out how addicted he was to the social media platform. It was one of the first things that popped up when I googled him. Initially I couldn’t help but laugh at this 27-year-old man being hooked to a silly little app but now after having met him, I could see why his juvenile brain would become dependant on the thoughtless validation. I went to the kitchen and refilled my quickly emptying glass with haste. The memory of Pierre being so guarded about his passwords sprung into my brain and so now I desperately wanted to know what he was hiding. I clicked on the bright coloured button with my thumb and smirked knowing how much he would hate this. But as I sat down, he was so conceited he actually wouldn’t hate it at all.

I flicked quickly down the interface. It was full of mostly drivers and brands. I raised my glass to my lips and took a swift drink when I reached a bikini clad model which was followed by another one. Both had been “liked by Pierre Gasly” and I found myself eye rolling, yet again. But this wouldn’t be what he was trying to stop me from gaining access too. After-all they probably all followed scantily clad women who frolicked around in hotel beds and beaches to pay their rent. My thumb hovered over the DM icon and sure it was fucking pathetic, but I felt a little bit of a rush finally allowing myself to tap it.

And I was certainly not disappointed. It was full of exactly what I knew it would be. Girls. There was the “you replied to “x”‘s story” amongst plenty “reacted to your story” & of course the “sent a photo”’s littered his DMs. Starting at the top, I decided to go through the most recent one first. It was from a @Jocelyn_S_Silva and the wine really didn’t prepare me. Jesus! That’s a lot of ass! I saw the little heart emoji at the side of it meaning Pierre clearly liked it and I let out a little bit of a sigh subconsciously. Girls really did send guys this type of stuff very openly and freely and honestly, it was going to be tough keeping him out of trouble if these were the kinds of DM’s he was happy to revcieve. Then the time it was sent caught my eye. Today at 1:33pm. He was with me at 1:33pm. He was in our meeting being a brat, a big headed idiot, a total chauvinist. I scrolled to the messages before and realised that was where he had come from and why he had been late. He had spent the night with this girl.

Jocelyn_S_Silva: 💋 last night was fun Papi, let’s do it again sometime?xxx

I couldn’t help but feel a slight disgust wash over me so I tried to settle it with the carmine coloured liquid in my glass. Who was this girl anyway? I went back to view her profile. A Spanish influencer it seems. 200,000 followers, probably mostly male by the millions of bikini pictures she was posting. I mean if that was how she earned her money good for her, she had an amazing body and she would be best to use it before she loses it but she wasn’t good for Pierre’s image so there was a swift unfollowing and blocking of the bikini influencer (I mean, what the hell is a bikini influencer anyway?)

Then following on from her there was another bikini model from Italy who was clearly someone Pierre had taken on a date and hooked up with after seeing as the message was quite similar to Miss Jocelyn Silva’s. Pierre hadn’t replied to her so I deleted conversation before proceeding to unfollow and block. Next was some girl who had been a paddock guest but had a fairly slim IG if you discount all of the shopping pics. She had sent Pierre various shots of herself in various states of undress and I didn’t need to see much more. Delete, unfollow and block. There were a few conversations with guys I could gather were friends and other racing drivers like Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. Then a few more conversations with girls that were extremely entertaining to read. Most were almost comically cringey and stereotypical moves all guys stuffed up their sleeves when talking to women. But one or two of his conversations were enough to make me raise my eyebrows. He was a natural flirt and some of these girls (the ones he seemed to like the most) he gave extra effort too. As I read “…I know you’ll shiver when I kiss down that beautiful neck” I could hear his confidence laced voice practically purring it. And then another girl got “God! I can’t wait to be between your thighs, making you cum all over my tongue” and that was when I had to devour all the remainder of my wine.

Listen, as much as Pierre Gasly was a monumental dick today - acting like he was king of the castle and as if I should fall on my knees for him upon sight alone - I couldn’t deny that the man was good looking. His slate grey, moody eyes sort of smouldered in a way most men would be jealous of. His penchant for smirking was so God damn infuriating that it was hard to conceal the fact that it did in fact work on me and I had to disguise how it actually managed to raise my temperature a little. And besides all else, the man oozed confidence like no one else I have ever met before. It exuded from him. Every single pore in his skin permeated an almost magnetic certitude that was hard not to get drunk off. Having now spent a few hours in his presence could almost understand why women found him utterly irresistible. Pierre had this seductive, alluring appeal that not many guys could mimic. It was so unbelievably natural to the man that several times today you had been amazed that he hadn’t been snapped up yet and found the right woman. After all, he seemed to be able to sleep with them no problem judging by his DMs.

For a brief moment, I really considered putting the phone down, running myself a bath and forgetting all about what my new job was. A glance toward the unpacked boxes and semi furnished flat reminded me of that. Fuck! This was all a step in the right direction but still not one I thought I would be taking. I glanced down at my fading tan and let out a long, laboured sigh. I miss the heat on my skin. The warmth of a beautiful November day back in Aus. My eyes flickered tightly shut and I was right back there. On the porch of the house overlooking the lush greenery and crystal clear swimming pool and right as I almost allowed myself to daydream one day I would be back there, I opened my eyes and the moment was over. The phone was still on in my hand when I looked back and allowed my eyes to focus on it. There’s no good thinking of the past. I click on the next conversation Pierre had been having with a girl and practically choked on the last drop of wine I had slowly tipped out of the glass.

It was a sent photo. From Pierre. Of PIERRE!

From the angle it was evident Pierre was lying down. The tanned, flexed muscles of his abdomen were right there on full display and a shaky, uncertain breath escaped passed my parted shocked lips. His chest hair was a light shade of brown that at this angle looked practically golden. And it continued down to cover the valley of his tight, taught stomach. I felt my mouth water slightly as it was very apparent Pierre liked feeling like a man if the defined “happy trail” was anything to go by. But it wasn’t his sculpted chest that had shock reverberating through my body.

Pierre was clad in a pair of very tight, possibly expensive, black boxers with a VERY obvious erection. The thin fabric was stretched almost to breaking to contain the hard on beneath and suddenly, it dawned on me why he was so unwilling to give me his passwords. But the fact he had hours to have deleted any of these dirty photographs made me wonder if he actually wanted me to see them. Now, that was very Pierre of him!

It was hard to look away from and even harder to will myself to click off. I could tell why Pierre was so smug all the time now. There was no denying he had to be well-endowed and he was clearly girthy. And fuck, he was so confident in his sexuality there wasn’t a chance he didn’t know how to use it. There had to be a reason all of these girls wanted more. This is so fucked! It’s Pierre for fucks sake! It’s Pierre! He’s the arrogant asshole I’ve only known a few hours. Get a fucking grip, Aria!

Then just as I caught the sound of my own trembling, unsteady breathing I felt a dull pulse like beating between my thighs that was unmistakable and I sighed. After all these months? Now? And Pierre?! This was a fucking shocker. Seriously? I thought I was broken. I thought I had turned this particular part of myself off like a leaky tap after, well after what, happened. But evidently the sight of Pierre Gasly’s hard on was all it took to turn it back on. For a minute I simply sat there and had to at least take this in. It wasn’t right. I had to be professional. I had to “look after” him. But it wasn’t like I was about to fuck him and probably a lot of other girls would feel this after finding a photo like that.

Fuck it!

I went with it. I allowed myself to use the moment. Utilise the feeling that was now coursing through my veins. I lay back on the sofa and placed the work phone down so I could use both of my hands to get my tight as hell work trousers undone. Guys did this all the time. They got off to their work colleagues and all that didn’t they? I lifted my leg up a little so I could get a good angle. Just go with it. And a long, steady breath flowed from my lips as I trailed the tips of my fingers down my body. I felt the hot air leaving my lungs against my fingertips as I started there. Then they passed down my throat, my neck, my collarbone and down my silk blouse covered breast caged in my lace bra underneath. My eyes closed slowly while my hand travelled down further. It brushed down my stomach and the little bare skin that had become exposed when I undone the trousers moments ago. With one inner push my fingers continued and pushed down into the elastic of the white cotton panties and I let myself think of the picture. Of Pierre’s picture. Of Pierre. And then the tips of my fingers brushed across where the darkening throbbing pulsing was coming from. God, Pierre’s mouth trailing down my neck would feel so good right now. His fingers could do this better.

Suddenly, I sit up straight. My hand retreating from my waist band instantly.

Fuck no!

No! Not happening! Absolutely not! No way in hell!

No matter how bad I need it, I will never get off on the thought of Pierre fucking Gasly! EVER!

TAG LIST!

@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @queenofshinigamis @kovalcin @genevieve-blr @mcmuppet @themockingjayreader

Thank-you too @the-lazy-leprechaun for helping develop the plot 🥰

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly series #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly multi chapter #f1 smut #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 series #f1 x oc #bet trope #grumpy sunshine trope

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 7 months

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𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑾𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵 ║ Chapter 10 - Don't Run. You Will Only Die Tired.

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 5k | CHAPTER WARNINGS: heavy topics relating to captivity, SA, sewer slide, difficulties with intimacy following SA, PTSD, etc. The whole thing is a doozy.

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: You've waited so long for good things, and now it's hard to be patient when they're just within reach. Against your better judgment, you push yourself. Joel pushes back.

║ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳ ║⋄── •✧• ──⋄║ ＮＥＸＴ ║

Please read with caution if you have difficulties with works concerning: SA, physical violence, torture, captivity, trauma, and similar topics as they are discussed throughout the series. All highly sensitive portions WILL BE MARKED with my sensitive material banner if you wish to skip the more challenging portions. The sensitive material banner looks like this:

Joel liked you. You didn’t need to prove anything to him. You didn’t need to be anything in particular for him to want to spend time with you. It was something you had to continuously remind yourself of. And yet, the voice in your mind kept quietly nagging: why does he want to take things slow?

You’d done a very bad job of doing anything remotely close to “taking things slow,” and you felt guilty every so often when you realized just how much of that you were putting on Joel to oversee and manage. After years of torment, it was hard for your logical side to convince your emotional side to not just dive headfirst into all of these good feelings. It’s been so long since you’d felt happiness like this, and to deny yourself of it felt like a betrayal in many ways. What was the harm in going a little faster? What was the risk of doing more, and sooner?

Joel felt strongly about it, however, and you did your best to respect that. You wanted him with a fervor so unfamiliar to you that you sometimes had to force yourself to not push those boundaries too far and too hard. There was always the risk of you getting triggered or overwhelmed, but the longer you had to wait for those good feelings and sensations, the more it seemed like a calculated risk worth taking.

You aren’t sure when the shift happened, but not being physically or sexually connected to Joel made you feel antsy. When you cuddled on the couch or exchanged intimate kisses, you felt confident and sure of yourself and your relationship. When you were doing literally anything else, you were flooded with uncertainty and self-doubt. You could be in the same room together, but if you weren’t touching, that chasm of ambiguity and anxiety began to swallow you whole.

Joel had picked up on the change because of course he had. At first you didn’t want to admit to him how desperate and needy you were for something that he time and again executed refrain and patience for. It left you feeling like all the desire and want was one-sided. Eventually you admitted the truth to him. He took it in stride as he always did with your ricochet of doubt and worry and elation. He’d carefully - thoughtfully - suggested the two of you think of non-sexual ways to build intimacy and trust. When he asked if you had anything in mind, you already had an answer.

The heat of the water fogged up the mirrors in Joel’s bathroom. It had been running for a few minutes now, and the tub was nearly filled. You hadn’t had a bath in months. You hadn’t had an actual bath in a tub in … you can’t even remember when. The flower marking on your hip had meant you needed to avoid submerging the open scarring until it fully healed, but you wouldn’t have been sinking into a warm pool of water anyway. It carried too much weight to be indulged on a whim.

“You really aren’t going to get in with me?” you ask quietly as you watch the line of water rise.

“I jus’ think it’s, uh, safer that way.” Joel scratches the back of his neck. “Ya know, jus’ to… keep things goin’ in the right direction.”

You sigh and shoot him a watery smile. “Alright. I understand.”

He curls his hand around yours and gives a small squeeze. “Jus’ because it ain’t today doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen.”

You wrap your arms around one of his and hug tight. “I know,” you say, trying your best to not sound disappointed. The commiserating grin Joel gives you let’s you know you probably aren’t doing a great job at hiding it. Joel leans over and turns off the water. He makes a low grunt as he straightens back up again.

“I think that’ll do it. Do you want me to….?” he trails off and glances in the direction of the door.

“No, stay. Please. And, do you think– I mean, if you want to— that you could undress me?” you ask.

Joel swallows thickly and makes a noise of uncertainty.

“I—” you immediately falter. “I want. For when it happens – for when that happens – that it’s… something I asked to happen.”

You aren’t sure if your explanation will suffice to convey all the scope of what you’re asking. Joel’s eyes narrow as his head tilts, but there’s still an element of doubt. So, you try again.

“I want for you to.. undress me because–it’s what I— for me to…. I want it to think of it as a good thing, and not s-something that means.. something that means something bad is about to happen to me,” you manage to get out.

Joel’s eyes close briefly. He takes a deep breath. It seems he did understand what you meant without further explanation, but that maybe he was wishing he was wrong in his interpretation.

“Of course. I– Of course we can do that, honey. Let me– how d’ya wanna go about it?”

“M-Maybe we do it together? The first time?” you suggest.

He nods slowly, watching your face closely. You reach out to his hands and guide them to your t-shirt. You drag them slowly upward before raising your hands above your head and allow Joel to pull your shirt off. He drops it to the floor and carefully awaits your next instruction. You ask if he can kiss you “in a small way,” and he thankfully understands. After a few gentle, slow presses of your lips together, you feel grounded enough again to continue. Soon enough, you’re standing bare before him and feel completely safe and sane. You even surprise yourself at the lack of nerves.

Even if there had been any to begin with, they would’ve quickly melted away under Joel’s attention and care as he eases you into the water and pours a cupful of it along your scalp a few times. You don’t bother not ogling him as he removes his long sleeved shirt so the sleeves don’t get drenched. You catch his almost shy grin.

“Like what ya see?” he teases.

“I’m full on naked, okay? I think it’s only fair I get to stare at you a little bit,” you point out.

He huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Remember that ain’t what this is supposed’ta be.”

You both pull back on your giddy grins. It was so hard to ignore the rushing feelings of excited nerves and anticipation for what this new romantic and sexual aspect of your relationship would bring. But he was right. This was supposed to be about intimacy outside of those things. You’re sure if you thought about it too much for too long that you’d get nervous. Asking restraint from a man. Asking for respect of your body and your boundaries. Laying open and bare for the taking, but asking and trusting you won’t be. Not without your permission. Asking – daring to ask – to be touched and cared for in a way that does nothing for the other person. A test of morals and trust.

You sit in a quiet silence for the most part, a comfortable bubble with just you and Joel. He gently washes your body, pausing every now and then as he waits for your verbal consent for his hands to be on your body, your most intimate parts. Somehow it doesn’t feel sexual. You were sure when he got to your breasts or private areas, you’d feel aroused. Instead it was much the same as any other part. You just felt safe and warm and content.

The only shift comes when he begins washing your hair. He feels you tense for a split second and stops. “I don’t hafta do your hair if you’re not—”

“No. I- I want you to wash my hair. More than anything else, actually. It’s–It’s the reason I even suggested you bathing me as part of that... thing you said. Trying for the nonsexual stuff.”

“Okay. It’s just, you sorta flinched when I–”

“Mae used to wash my hair,” you interrupt hastily. “We would do it for each other.”

Joel is quiet for a moment. Then, “Your friend, right? The one you, uh, lost?”

You nod somberly. “I miss it. I miss doing that for each other. I miss her.”

“Somethin’ y’all did together a lot?” he asks delicately.

Your face warms with a smile. “Yeah. It was some of the only times we were alone, so we could actually talk about things. Help each other. Comfort each other.”

Joel makes a contemplative noise. He pauses again. You can feel his hesitation, nervous to say the wrong thing. Nervous to take one of your few good memories from the past couple of years and ruin it. You already had so little from your time in captivity. He didn’t want to take the crumbs that were left.

“That sounds nice. I’m glad y’all had each other.”

“It was nice,” you agree softly. “We would wash our own bodies most of the time. Sometimes after… certain things, when you can’t hardly stand to be in your body, let alone touch it and bathe it… we’d help each other those times. But, mostly it was washing each other’s hair. Just felt nice for there to be somebody touching you that wasn’t meant to hurt you. To own you.”

You take a deep breath and lean into Joel’s gentle massaging motions. “Feels good, baby,” you whisper.

“Wanna make you feel good. Wanna make you feel safe,” he responds with equal tenderness.

“You do.” You close your eyes and smile when you feel Joel’s gentle kiss on your temple.

“You can, uh.. you can talk about her, if you want. Mae. I’d like to hear about her, if you’re able.” He sounds so docile and soft. He feels like the warm bath water soaking into your skin. He feels like the blanket of soothing heat that surrounds you.

You find the words spilling out without any effort. There’s no gruesome gnarl or knot of pain in your chest. You feel light. It feels good to talk about her. To keep her memory alive. To give her the sort of eulogy and tribute she deserves. She deserved so much more. Joel is a good audience – asking questions at all the right spots, chuckling quietly when you share funny tidbits, running comforting strokes up and down your back when you recall harder times.

You find yourself able to work all the way up to her final day. “They were going to take her. He-Sam. Sam was annoyed with her over something. I don’t know what. Said he didn’t want her sleeping in the room with us that night. Said she was gonna have to sleep naked out there with the rest of the crew.”

You swallow hard and flick aimlessly at the bathwater. Joel is still as a statue beside you with only the measured pull and release of air through his nose letting you know he was still there.

“She knew what that meant. She was already–she wasn’t better yet from a few days before… we were still trying to look after some of her injuries…..,” you meander through the memory. “I just think she knew she might not survive the night anyway.”

Your eyes sting with tears. You sniff some of them back. “She looked at me, and I knew. Not exactly, but I knew she was going to make a break for it right then and there. I just froze. It’s like I was stuck. I just stood there while she took her chance and tackled one of the guys.”

“She got him to the ground?” Joel sounds surprised.

“Managed to get him to the ground and wrestle his gun from him, actually,” you answer in a flat tone.

“She got away?” His suspended disbelief at the implication was palpable.

You turn to look at him in confusion, your brows scrunching together. “No, of course not. She shot herself.”

It’s said as though any other outcome was preposterous. What on earth would she have done in that situation? Other than take her own life, put an end to all of it? The idea that Mae would’ve ever managed to escape and flee without being apprehended and, at best, beaten to death, was downright farcical. Joel froze, holding your gaze. “Shit,” he mumbles. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that’s what you meant.” “Yeah,” you whisper quietly. The water sloshes around you abruptly as Joel clings to you, pulling you into his arms with fervor. You’re caught off guard, but you quickly return the hug, wrapping your arms around his middle as he gently rocks you back and forth in the water.

Each day carried on, and you found yourself slipping into the comfort of simple bonding with Joel. Grocery store trips. Trying out a recipe together. Walking hand in hand to and from the patrol station. You’d even managed to convince him to play something for you on the guitar and not just when you were already half asleep. It was a familiarity that evolved into an often uncomplicated shared intimacy.

You didn’t jump every time he surprised you with a hand on your back from behind. He could rub your leg as you sat next to each other on the couch, and it didn’t make you feel antsy. He leaned into your hand as it scratched along his scalp, his head lolling in your lap. He’d started to loosen up a bit and not hold back as much. Hugging you tighter. Holding you closer. Kissing you harder.

The feel of his lips against your own as you made out on the couch was absolutely divine. It made you feel giddy and light just to go in between lazy kisses and feverish making out, off and on for however long Ellie was out of the house with some friends. You giggle at the slip of his tongue curling between your bottom teeth and lip.

“God you taste good,” he mutters.

“Not too much jerky flavor?” you titter against his mouth. You can feel him smile against yours.

“Mmmm, just the right amount. Really does it for me, ya know?” he teases. “Always dreamed of findin’ me a woman with a passion for dehydrated and cured meats.”

You snort a laugh at his harmless taunting and pull him back onto you. You roll your hips into his and swallow his groan. You wrap your legs around his back and cross your ankles at his tailbone, pulling him closer to you. He follows your lead and presses himself into you and meets your mouth in a passionate kiss. You moan and whimper at the unchecked pace, at the uninhibited way he licks and nips into your mouth.

His smell is intoxicating, and you quickly find yourself lost in him. The feel of him is all around you, and what began as a welcomed overwhelming sensation has begun shifting into something unnerving and overbearing. You ignore it, try to push past it, but your chest starts to feel tight. Joel is broad and strong above you, and he’s lost in the kiss you’re still eagerly returning. You make a trembling whimper he mistakes for encouragement to continue. He’s pressing into you, touching you, tasting you. It’s now suffocating and upsetting.

“J-Joel,” you shake out. He groans eagerly in response. Your heart is beating a million miles an hour. You need to stop. He needs to stop. You need for him to stop. Now.

“Joel.” It comes out clipped and tense, not at all the calm, casual remark you had planned. As expected, Joel immediately freezes and pulls up, giving himself enough space to wildly search your features for an answer of what he had changed, what had he done to make you feel uncomfortable. “No, no. It’s okay. I just need, I just think I need a minute, and I’ll be okay. Okay? J-Just a minute,” you insist with a shaky voice. Your lip trembles. The back of your eyes start to pinch. Joel doesn’t look convinced. You bring your hands to either side of his face, a soft gesture to prove your interlude is just that, nothing more. Anything but the truth. You can’t tell him the truth. You don’t know why your head is suddenly spinning. If he knows something is wrong, he might not let go again like this. It felt so good until it hadn’t. You couldn’t lose it. You couldn’t give Joel a reminder of how broken you were.

“Darlin’,” he starts, and the reluctance in his voice kills you. You rest his forehead against yours and close your eyes. You will just have to work through this at the same time that you are convincing him to not give this moment up. You try your best with attending to the whirlwind of anxiety gripping your gut and the deep-seated need for him to cover every square inch of your body in kisses. “No no no. It’s okay. It’s okay. I just-I just need a minute,” you beg. “That’s all. That’s it. Just give me a minute, Joel.” Your heavy breathing and antsy tone only serve to undermine your appeals.

Your eyes flutter open from being screwed shut in concentration when you feel Joel shift above you. He shakes his head and positions himself to sit beside you with a modest berth between you. You start to feel the anger bubble up inside your gut, threatening to rise up your throat and come out as acidic remarks.

“All I need– I just—” your lips tingle and burn. “Why can’t you just be patient with me?” you snap.

You aren’t sure why you’re acting so indignant. It wasn’t as if you deserved Joel’s patience, his understanding, his compassion. And yet here you were, demanding he return what wasn’t even rightfully yours.

“You’re forcin’ yourself to be okay with it, and I just can’t do that.” His tone is firm but tender.

“I’m not!” you argue, flinging yourself over him to straddle his lap as if to emphasize your point.

Your lips crash into his, but they weren’t met with the previous fervor. Joel yet again pulls away, and you grasp at the back of his head to pull him back. When you try to kiss him again, his arms find their way to you, gently restraining you enough to put space between you.

“Why won’t you just give me a minute?!” you bark, enraged at him shutting the entire moment down. Rejecting you. Rejecting your body, your advances - one of the few things you had of value to offer him. He starts to reposition you further away, but you beat him to the punch. You push off him and off the couch, stomping towards the door. Joel was behind you before you could cross the threshold, his arm blocking your passage as his hand gripped the doorjamb. Joel had just rejected you, and now he was refusing to let you wallow in your mortification privately.

“Sweetheart, I’m givin’ you a minute by givin’ you some space,” he explains calmly.

“No you’re not! You’re turning me down. Like-Like you don’t even want me. You could just give me a minute to think for a second.” You march angrily towards the wall, not sure where you were headed exactly, but unable to bear Joel being nearby. Your shame flares in his proximity. Again, he follows behind you, loudly enough that you instinctively know it is for your benefit. For some reason this only makes you angrier. You whip around, your back against the wall, to glare at the man who had rejected your advances and appeal to patience. “If you had just given me a SECOND I would have been fine!” You feel the angry tears brimming.

He holds his hands out to the side, open and welcoming but not demanding. Why won’t he just snatch you up and bury his tongue in your mouth? “I could have worked through it, Joel. I wanted to, but you wouldn’t let me! If you had just let me, if you had just given me a second I could’ve-” you croak.

Your hands ball into tight fists, tightening even more as Joel’s face morphs into a sort of pitying expression. “I could’ve done it. I could have been normal! It could have been normal. I could have done it if you had just let me. I could have worked through it and been fine and had a normal kiss with you I could’ve done it if you had just let me I could’ve been normal for you for once I could’ve been a normal-”

Your incoherent babbling dissolves into quiet sobs. You feel Joel’s familiar warm embrace surround you, grounding you. He shushes and soothes and caresses, all while you cry into his shoulder in defeat.

Your eyes are still red from yesterday afternoon. You splash ice cold water on your face. It doesn’t help. You’d left in a hurry once Joel let you go. You could feel he wanted to chase after you, to fix it, to comfort you, but he didn’t. He stopped himself because of you. Because you can’t handle basic physical interactions. You can’t handle being intimate with somebody, even if they’re safe and warm and soothing. None of that matters when you’re a broken person. Joel couldn’t do the normal thing of comforting you because you were nothing more than a hobbled mess of a person, fragments of humanity pieced together haphazardly.

You’d been lying to yourself when you said you could be normal for him. You were never going to be normal for him, for anyone. He deserves more. He deserves more than somebody who can’t manage to avoid a panic attack, some several months of living in the sliver of paradise that still existed in the apocalypse. If you couldn’t be enough for him here, you’d never be enough for him anywhere.

Your shoes drag along the dirt as you make your way to his house. You’d watched for Ellie to leave. You weren’t sure how long you had. You hoped you could make it quick and painless for him. For you, though, you figured crying yourself to sleep tonight was a best case scenario.

Your knock on the door is timid. Nothing like the bouncing rap of knuckles you’d usually greet it with. The door swings open. Joel looks like he’s been waiting for you to show up. No surprise in his face whatsoever. His eyes are soft and light. It makes you want to burst into tears.

“Hey, darlin’. Come on i—”

“You deserve to be with someone who isn’t so much work,” you say flatly.

Joel opens his mouth to argue, but you hold a hand up to stop him. “Please just listen to me, Joel.”

He closes his mouth but looks as though he has already decided to disagree with whatever you plan on telling him. He wordlessly wraps an arm around your back and ushers you inside. You start speaking again before he has a chance to close the door. If you put this off, you’re sure to be a coward and not do what needs to be done. For Joel. You’re doing this for Joel. You aren’t going to burden him with your baggage. You have to break things off. He deserves someone normal. Someone capable of kissing him without having a meltdown.

“Please don’t take this like I want you to tell me I’m wrong and that you’re going to win me back or something. I-I’m serious, Joel. You deserve more than… more than what I can give you.” Your words get lodged in your throat, hot and sticky and heavy.

Joel rests his hands on his hips and relaxes a leg. He almost looks impatient with you. You try to hurry up and finish so you’re not wasting anymore of his time.

“I-I… It’s hard f-for me to accept, but I do accept it. I can’t make you happy, and you deserve to be happy,” you choke out. “I wish I could fix me, but I just don’t think it’s ever gonna happen.” Joel makes no move to comfort you or wipe away the tears that have started falling onto your cheekbones. Good. He’s already moving on. This is good. This is what you wanted. This is what’s best for him. He’s better without you dragging him down.

“I just know in the end it will not have been worth it. Just-Just wasting your time - the little time we all have left in this awful world. I’m not going to let you waste it on me.” Your sniffles turn into rapid intakes of air before leveling out again. “Ya done?” he asks pointedly with a raised brow.

“I-Yes. I’m done,” you answer meekly. Now all that was left was for Joel to send you on your way.

“Good, because now it’s your turn to listen.” His eyes burn with something new. Something you’ve not seen before, certainly not directed at you. It makes your tummy flip. “All that? That’s not really for you to decide,” he says coolly. “Wh-What?” you balk. “What’s not for me to decide?” “What makes me happy. What is worth my time. How I want to spend the rest of my life.” His nostrils flare, but you know he’s not angry at you. Maybe some version of you that’s trying to run away. But not at you. You aren’t sure how you know it, but you do. “Joel,” you sigh, exasperated at his persistence. You knew there was a chance he would argue with you, but you still find yourself unprepared for the tenacity radiating from him. “No. You don’t get to decide any of that for me. If you didn’t want me - if you didn’t want us - that would be one thing. But this? This bullshit? Not your call, sweetheart.” Joel’s gaze levels with yours, and you could see in his eyes this was not a challenge you were going to win. “Joel, it’s not right for me to-”

He takes his first steps forward then. His entire palm covers your cheek. He tilts your head up. “Tell me you want to end things because you want them to end. Not because of me, not for some sort of happiness I’m supposed’ta have with you outta the picture. Tell me you want it over because you don’t want it,” he demands. “Say right now you don’t want me. That you don’t want us. Say it.” You open your mouth a few times, but the words to make Joel understand you were doing this for his benefit never materialize. “Tell me you don’t want me,” he demands again in a low voice, inching towards you so close you could feel his breath fanning on your face. “I can’t,” you admit in a shaky whisper. “Then that’s that,” he decides with finality. You blink back up at him, confused by his unwillingness to rid himself of the baggage that was you. Your eyes flit to his lips where his hot breaths plume against your skin. When you look back at him, something has changed. There is a determination there. “I’m gonna hold you real close now, and I’m gonna kiss you. You’re gonna kiss me back. And it’s gonna be like last time, but we’re really going to do it this time, you hear me?”

His words aren’t a threat but a promise. You nod meekly, wide eyed with anticipation. True to his word, Joel sweeps you into his embrace, cupping the back of your head as he tilts it to the side. His lips brush yours in a whisper of a caress. His terse preamble is a contrast to the slow, unrushed, gentle movements against your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the pleasant sensation, your hands winding up to his neck and hair where you smooth and rub and grab. His tongue slips along your bottom lip, gaining purchase into your mouth in a smooth motion. The way he delicately and hungrily explores you makes your mind go hazy. You feel your body melting back into his arms against you and the subsequent pull as he takes on your weight. His hand steadies your neck while his forearm and elbow hold you against him, allowing his other hand to press firmly against your back as it glides up and down. Joel swallows the weak whimper from your lungs as you match his pace and return his affections.

He pulls from your lips with a gasp. You both catch your breath for a moment. His eyes search yours.

“We make decisions together. We’re in this together, and it ain’t right for you to go off and make these big choices for the both of us, you understand?” he asserts. There’s the edge of something pleading in his tone.

“O-Okay. I’m sorry, Joel,” you murmur softly. “I just didn’t want you to be—”

“Enough,” he interjects. “You belong here. You belong in Jackson with all the rest of us. And you’re crazy if you think I’m the only person who’s gonna let you push people away the second things get hard.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat and drop your eyes. His hand lifts your chin so you’re looking at him again.

“No runnin’. Not unless I’m right beside ya, runnin’ too,” he says sternly. “It’s us in it together.”

You nod your head slowly. “Okay. Together.”

“Together,” he agrees.

Hey friends,

I'm sorry there's been such a gap in between the last chapter and this one. This chapter in particular drudged up a lot of shit for me, and it made it really difficult to write. I'm not really sure how the chapter comes across because I've been sitting with it for so long. I've been getting a bit lost in it, so I decided to just leave it once it felt right.

Thanks for all your patience and understanding!

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

#fic: feral woman #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #tlou #tlou fic

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the-cult-of-riley · 2 months

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Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Eleven)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: This one is a short one. Technically, it should have gone at the end of the last chapter, but it felt right putting it on its own. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting the next chapter right after so you won't be waiting long lmao

I'm so excited already to get to Act Two where all the pain and angst is, where Simon is Ghost and I can torture you all with tears o3o Alas, I have more of Act One to get through lololol

Placebo - Come Home

Stuck between the do or die, I feel emaciated Hard to breathe I try and try, I'll get asphyxiated Swinging from the tallest height, with nothing left to hold on to

Every sky is blue, but not for me and you

Come home, come home, come home, come home

Glass of petrol vodka gin, it feels like breathing ethane Throw yourself from skin to skin, and still it doesn't dull the pain Vanish like a lipstick trace, it always blows me away

Every cloud is grey, with dreams of yesterday

Come home, come home, come home, come home Come home, come home, come home, come home

Always goes against the grain, and I can try and deny it Give a monkey half a brain, and still he's bound to fry it Now the happening scene is dead, I used to want to be there too

Every sky is blue, but not for me and you

Come home, come home, come home, come home Come home, come home, come home, come home

Charlotte lay there stiffly, the sun starting to shine through the window. She hadn't slept at all, she hadn't been able to knowing Simon was being shipped off so soon. She felt a lot of things she couldn't quite make sense of, but the biggest one was sadness. Six months was a long time to not be able to see him and she was so used to his presence in her life that she knew she was going to struggle to be on her own again.

It was stupid really, she’d known from the beginning he was military and yet she hadn't even thought about him being deployed, it hadn't even crossed her mind. The emotion weighed her down and clogged up her throat and she knew she was being dramatic and stupid. Or maybe she wasn't since they were official now. She was right to worry about her boyfriend being in a warzone, right? She wouldn't know, her last boyfriend had been a lazy twat.

Simon was fast asleep, soft and deep steady breaths brushing the back of her neck while his arm lay heavily over her waist. He had to be up at 5am, had to leave by 6. Looking at the clock, she saw it was 4.30 and her heart dropped at what little time they had left. She was sure her eyes were red due to lack of sleep and maybe, just maybe, she'd silently cried a few times in the night. There were a lot of disjointed thoughts in her brain over this situation but it always came back to the same one. What if he doesn't make it home?

The idea made her heart go cold and she clenched her jaw tightly as she willed her tears to stay away. She knew deep down what she felt for Simon was more intense than what she was used to. Was this real love? She thought she'd loved Ethan but it had been fleeting and barely there and really didn't take long before it was gone. This was something else. There had been a connection with him since the moment they met, some kind of tether pulling them together. She'd never really believed in soul mates and the whole red string of fate nonsense but Simon was making her rethink a lot of things. She'd never felt such an instant connection before, never felt things so deeply or so quickly.

It felt far too soon to be even thinking about such things yet, but now knowing he'd be gone for half a year, it felt like her feelings were staring plainly at her. She wouldn't tell him, not yet at least. She had no idea how he'd react and she wouldn't risk messing his head up before he left. She needed his head firmly affixed to his shoulders and working soundly when he was over there because the idea of him coming back in a coffin made her feel sick. Would she even get told? Did his family even know about her? So many thoughts and not enough energy, she felt her lower lip wobble again.

She took a few deep and shaky inhales to steady herself, she wouldn't get upset in front of him and make him feel bad. This wasn't a guilt trip, she was just feeling far too much. As she glanced at the clock again, she figured she'd get up since the sleep ship had well and truly sailed. She could at least feed him before he was off. She wasn't sure if a full English would be too much, too heavy for the day he was going to have but you couldn't go wrong with some bacon butties.

Carefully, she tried to extract herself from his grip and started to sit up. His hand snaked back around her though, splaying over her stomach and pulling her back against him with a tired groan.

“Where d’you think you're goin'?” He asked. His voice was deep and raspy from sleep and she tried to relax even though she felt so tense.

“Was gonna make some bacon butties for us before you… have to go,” she explained, clearing her throat, trying to shake the emotion that was stuck there. He hummed, the arm around her tightening as he placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

“Five more minutes, yeah?” He asked, not really giving her a choice with his iron grip. She forced herself to relax in his hold, telling herself this would be the last time in six months she'd be waking up in his arms, that he'd be holding her. She wanted to soak it in, to memorize what it felt like. His thumb rubbed circles on the skin of her stomach, his nose rubbing at her neck softly.

“Gonna miss this,” he admitted quietly. Her breathing stuttered at his honest admission and her body went rigid, blinking rapidly to stop the onslaught of tears that were threatening to break free.

“Me too,” she replied with a strained voice. He moved then, rolling her over to face him. Those beautiful dark eyes scanned her face, taking in her tired, red eyes that shone from unshed tears. His brows pinched together a little as he let out a heavy sigh. She felt bad at being so openly sad about the situation, not wanting to make the whole thing worse.

“You not sleep, love?” He asked knowingly. She shook her head, not trusting her voice in that moment when his warm eyes were shining with concern.

His hand came to her face, a finger trailing across her cheek in a featherlight touch before moving back up and along her temple. It danced across her forehead before sliding down the bridge of her nose, all the way down to the tip and then back up. Her eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling and how gentle his touch was. He mapped out the planes of her face for a moment longer before his fingers then trailed down her neck, down her arm until it reached her hand. He took it gently and her eyes opened once more, watching as he brought it to his mouth, placing a sweet kiss on it. He placed it between them both, his hand still enveloping hers.

“Wanted to ask somethin'...” He murmured, sounding unsure. It always surprised her when he seemed unsure of himself for a man such as him.

“What is it?” She asked, watching as his eyes darted across her face.

“Wanted to know if uh… if you wanted to write to me when I'm over there,” there was something shining behind his eyes she couldn't quite place as he asked but she felt her chest warm up at his words.

“I'd really like that,” she smiled.

It was a stupidly romantic thought, one she'd never really considered. She'd always been a bit of a romantic deep at heart but she hadn't been able to pay much mind to it outside of indulging herself in sappy romance novels. Her life hadn't had a place for romance in the past and yet the soldier in front of her had been quite romantic in their short time together. The flowers on her nightstand were proof of that. A handsome smile tugged at his lips at her answer and he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers firmly. It was a chaste kiss, one that carried a deep longing and yearning from the separation they both knew was coming.

“I should make breakfast,” she murmured when he pulled away. She didn't really want to get out of bed, to leave his presence, but she knew time was running out. She wanted to see him off with a full stomach, she wouldn't be selfish. He opened his mouth and she had a strong feeling he'd been going to protest, so she quickly darted out of bed. She knew it wouldn't take her much convincing to abandon her plans of feeding him to stay in bed with him instead.

She sorted herself out in the bathroom before swiping his jumper off the floor, sliding it over her head to stave off the cold and to enjoy the deep, spicy scent she loved so much. She padded over to the drawers to get a fresh pair of knickers before moving over to the kitchen. She busied herself with making the food but her eyes kept darting to the clock. The ticking felt louder and louder with each passing second, like it was mocking her and her aching heart.

She heard Simon rummaging around in his bag but she left him to get ready as she tried to get the bacon just how he liked it. He slid behind her, something she noticed he seemed to love to do, not that she minded, and wrapped his arms around her. One of his hands slid up inside of the jumper to lay over her bare stomach. It wasn't a sexual touch, but one of intimacy and she felt her body melt into him as she tried to continue with the food. It made her feel a little better that he seemed to want to be attached to her, like maybe she wasn't the only one bothered by the whole thing.

“Alright, foods ready,” she murmured, putting it on the plates. He released her then, grabbing the plates for the pair of them before he went over to the couch. Nothing good was on tv at this time so she just left some cheesy infomercials on while they ate in a tense silence. His leave was like a dark cloud looming over them both. He finished before her and once she was done, he grabbed both of their plates and put them on the coffee table in front of him out of the way.

“Come here, love,” he held his hand out to her, gesturing with his head for her to come to him and she did without thought. She was careful when she moved to straddle him that her bare thighs didn't scrape on his belt now he was decked out in his fatigues ready to go. She settled into him and he used his hand on the back of her head to guide it to his shoulder. One of her hands clutched his t-shirt, the other wrapped around him as she snuggled into him, breathing in his scent deeply.

“Just wanna hold you for a bit, yeah?” he asked and his soft and gentle tone broke something inside of her. She felt the lump expand in her throat and she pressed her face into his neck as the waterworks started. She felt so stupid, she promised herself she’d wait until he was gone. He didn't need the drama.

“Lottie… Don’t cry… please,” he begged, his voice cracking as he held her tighter, the hand on her head pressing her closer to him.

“I’m sorry… just ignore me, I’m being stupid,” she sobbed pitifully, her chest stuttering as she tried to suppress them to no avail.

”It's not stupid, love,” he chided but she didn't reply as she stayed put, crying into his neck. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you I’m gonna miss you, as well?” he asked and she scrunched her face up at the pain that lanced through her chest. His fingers massaged her scalp and she wished it would soothe her but it didn't.

“Or that I’ll be thinkin’ of you every day I’m over there? That I have somethin’ to look forward to, comin’ back to you?” he finished and there was a weight in his tone that made her sit up, looking at him with tear stained cheeks. His eyes looked troubled at her emotional state and she wiped her eyes quickly, trying to compose herself. The idea that he’d miss her and was already looking forward to coming back to her eased the knot in her chest somewhat.

“I’m uh… I’m sorry,” she sniffled, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She really hadn’t mean to be so emotional in front of him. He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the residual tears that lay there.

“Don’t need to be sorry, love,” he said firmly, giving her a look that told her he meant it. She was just used to always apologizing for things, it was second nature to her. A habit he was trying to help her break.

She lay one of her hands over his that was still on her cheek, tilting her head to lean into him, seeking out his warmth. He watched her for a long moment, those piercing brown eyes feeling like they could see down to her very soul. She wished she could know what went on in that head of his sometimes. She felt like she was so easy to read and half the time with Simon, she felt lost.

His eyes cut from her to the clock on the wall, a deep frown pulling at his brows that told her it was time. She felt like she’d been sucker punched in the chest. He looked back at her then, his mouth opening and closing for a moment as if he couldn't figure out what to say.

“I uh… I always felt like I was livin’ life in the dark. Just goin’ through the motions, gettin’ on with it. But then… then you came along and suddenly everythin’ was bright light. Every fuckin’ dark corner of my miserable life was lit up and you chased all the shadows away…” his words were rushed as if he was just spewing his thoughts as they came to him and her heart felt like it stopped beating entirely.

Had she really made him feel that way? Did he really like her that much? She felt like he had to be talking about someone else, she felt like she hadn’t done much to get him to feel that way. But his warm and soft gaze told her he was indeed talking about her.

“I’m really glad I have you in my life, Simon,” she admitted, not having such poetic words as he did but hoping it got the message across. A few things flit across his face at a pace she couldn't keep up with but then he smiled and it seemed like his dark eyes were glowing amber.

“I’m glad too, love,” he replied fondly, stroking her cheek again before he moved his hand. She knew that was her cue, knew he didn't really want to say the words that he had to leave. She didn't want to make this harder on either of them so she got up, feeling the cold already. She hovered near the door as she watched him fuss about his duffel bag for a moment before he came over to her with a handful of t-shirts. He handed them out to her and she took them, raising a brow.

“What are these?” she asked even though she knew what they were and she should have been asking why he was giving them to her. He shifted on his feet, running a hand through his short hair.

“I… I haven't washed ‘em. I know you like to sleep in ‘em so I thought…” he trailed off and she felt a blinding warmth hit her suddenly in her chest. It was so thoughtful she almost burst into tears again. She brought the pile of tops up to her face, burying her nose in them for a moment to confirm they really did smell like him. It was so overwhelmingly comforting.

“Thank you,” she swallowed thickly, her eyes shining with unshed tears and his face told her he fully understood how much she appreciated the gesture.

“Could I…” his mouth floundered, his cheeks turning a light pink color that she never got sick of seeing on him. It was rare he blushed but she was still shocked he blushed at all. “Could I have one of yours?” he finally spat out, unable to look at her. She wanted to make a witty quip about how it wouldn't fit him to sleep in but she could see it took a lot for him to ask her that. She wanted him to be able to talk to her or ask her for anything, no judgment. So instead, she nodded eagerly, moving to the wash basket. There was a t-shirt in there that hadn’t been washed yet and she moved over to her nightstand, spraying her perfume on it for good measure. She padded back over to him, handing him the shirt and he gratefully took it, stuffing it into his bag quickly as if he was trying to hide evidence.

“I’m keeping this for now too,” she remarked cheekily, tugging at the soft jumper she’d commandeered from him earlier. She wanted to lighten the mood a little before he left and she didn't want him feeling so self-conscious around her. It seemed to work as his lips quirked up in that lopsided smile she was so fond of.

“Guess I’ll let you since I won’t need it,” he huffed playfully and she smiled up at him.

His eyes danced around her face for a moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss. It started off gentle but it was like a sudden urgency had come over him. He grasped her face, deepening the kiss as he explored every inch of her mouth. She moaned softly, clutching onto him for dear life as he tried to suck the soul out of her body. It wasn't just a kiss, it was a whole fucking experience and when he pulled away she felt like she was in another dimension. She blinked slowly up at him and a proud smirk graced his face. It didn't last too long though as the reality seemed to hit him again at the time.

“I’ll let you know the address to write once I get back to base,” he said and she nodded. She was eager to write to him, it was better than no contact at all. She quickly moved to wrap her arms around his middle, squeezing him one last time. His arms wrapped around her like snakes trying to constrict her as he pressed his nose into her hair.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he murmured and she nodded, giving him one last squeeze before she reluctantly let him go.

“I’ll see you soon, Simon,” she replied, trying to keep her voice from wobbling and failing miserably.

He gave her one last sad look before he turned and left through the door, jogging down the steps. She shut the door quickly, leaning against it as a sob ripped from her throat again. She knew she needed to get it all out after trying to keep herself in check in front of him. So she allowed herself to cry it out, to feel every shitty emotion she was feeling, because she’d never get through six whole months if she tried to bottle it up.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ghost riley #ghost x oc

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number1mingyustan · 1 year

Text

Bittersweet (Chapter 11–Guilty Party)||k.mgyu + j.ww

Genre: neighbors to lovers, strangers to lovers, angst, smut

Warnings: angst, kissing, cursing, grinding, protected sex, scratching, fingering (f.), lots and lots of feelings, oc is so confused

Summary: in which everything is only downhill from here

Word Count: 3k

series masterlist

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(a/n: second to last chapter :(((( coming to an end soon)

Now it was your turn to avoid. Your timing worked out because spring break had just started. For the past two weeks there was no baseball or school, so you didn't have to be around Mingyu or Wonwoo.

For the break, Wonwoo was spending his time in Paris with his family so communication between you two had died down, not that you were complaining. You texted and facetimed when you could... sort of. You'd made up a lot of excuses when he did try to call you and put in minimal effort to reply to his texts.

You felt horrible about acting so dry toward him, but facing him was so hard for you now. How were you supposed to be around Wonwoo when you felt like shit? Could you tell him about Mingyu's confession? You'd never been in a situation like this. Was there a right thing to do?

What kind of person would you be? The words tingled on your tongue any time you were around him. You couldn't not tell him right? You're still very new to relationships, clearly, and you don't have anyone to talk to about it.

All your friends are also Mingyu and Wonwoo's friends, so opening up to any of them had been ruled out. You know there's a lot at stake if you tell Wonwoo. Tensions will continue to grow between you and Mingyu and it'll completely fuck up their friendship with each other.

But at the same time, his confession has left an unsettling feeling inside of you. You don't really know what it is, but all you want to do is run to your boyfriend and talk to him. You don't know how it makes you feel and you hate it.

And fuck, you really like Wonwoo. You like being able to go to him and you're not a nervous wreck around him anymore.

On top of that, you're running out of time. Mingyu and Wonwoo are graduating in less than a month. Both of them will be off at university soon and you can't avoid them until they leave.

Mingyu's getting deja vu right now. You're standing in front of his door with your thumbs twittling nervously. He's getting flashbascks to the night you asked him to take your virginity. Admittedly, his heart is beating the same way it did that night. The same way it always does when he's around you.

Even though he's happy to see you, he doesn't know why you're here. You ran out on him after he confessed, which was completely understandable. But then you ran out on him again the next day when he tried bringing it up. Again, he understands why you did it. But what prompted you to show up at his door unannounced after not speaking to him for almost a month.

Admittedly, you're just as confused as him as to why you're here.

"Hi," you breathe out.

He opens the door wider, silently inviting you in. "Hey."

"Can we go to your room? I want to talk to you."

A small smile forms on his face as he nods. He closes the door behind you and the two of you head up to his room. He sits on his bed, you opt to stand. You're having a hard time putting your words together. You have no idea what to say to him.

Silently, you run your fingers along his collection of baseball trophies. You won't look at him, you can't. Your fingers trace along the trophies and medals as you admire all his achievements.

"You wanted to talk?" he breaks the silence.

He's not even hiding it. It's all in his eyes, they speak for themselves. His eyes follow your every movement, gaze never faltering from your face as you stall for time. You can see the love behind the hurt in his eyes, and it scares you. It scares you so much that your hands are sweating and your heart rate has picked up.

"Yeah," you mumble. "Needed a second to get my words together."

You take a deep breath in and exhale. You place yourself down on his bed next to him. "I'm sorry about running out on you. Twice."

"It's okay," he responds too quickly.

"No it's not," you turn, facing him. "I've never dealt with my situations by running away from them. I've always been the type to deal with stuff headfirst, but with you... I got scared and I ran."

"What is it about me that makes you want to run?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

He's so close to you... too close. You're letting it happen too. The space between your faces are disappearing, his lips are mere centimeters away from yours. There's something pinching at your heart and you don't know what it is. You can't tell if it's telling you to stop or keep going.

You can read him like a book. It's not hard to tell what's going through his head right now. He wants to kiss you, so fucking bad. Feel close to you again.

"You can't do that," you whisper.

"You're right," he blinks. "I'm sorry."

"Why did you have to go and ruin everything?" your voice breaks as you finally pull yourself back.

"I didn't mean to," his face falls.

"I know," you croak.

"I'm not blaming you, I just–"

"It feels like you're blaming me," he frowns.

"I know," you cover your face with your hands. "I don't blame you, I'm just having a hard time figuring out how to feel about this whole thing."

"Did our conversation make you feel something?"

"I don't know how I feel and that's the problem."

A beat.

It's so quiet Mingyu fears you might be able to hear just how hard and fast his heart is beating out his chest. He can't help but take your words as hope for him. He knows this shouldn't excite him, but it does.

You're unsure of how Mingyu makes you feel now. You know for a fact that you like Wonwoo, he makes you happy and he treats you so nicely. With Mingyu, it's hard to tell. There's a feeling associated with him that's been tormenting you ever since he confessed. You fear you might feel the same, but you genuinely don't know.

You've known Mingyu for so long that you're comfortable with him. Everything fell back into place with you naturally, and you appreciate it so much. You have yet to be able to navigate your feelings though. It is possible that you actually feel the same way and Mingyu? Or are you just telling yourself that may be the case because you can't stand to hurt him.

Your heart broke when his did at the party. You ran away because you were scared. You don't want to hurt him, to lose him again.

Yes, you love Mingyu. But do you love love him? There's so many factors to consider. Mingyu still can't properly commit to a relationship, and God forbid you do feel the same, who's to say you and him would actually be able to manage a relationship?

Two, Mingyu feels like home. But he's always been home for you, because he was your best friend. You know him inside and out but you've never seen him as more. He's making you question everything and as much as you want to trust your gut, you don't even know where it is that your gut is leading you.

You've let yourself sit on the issue and you've begun to second guess everything. Whether you feel the same or not, you still risk losing Mingyu again.

"I need to talk to Wonwoo," you finally state.

"Isn't he in Paris?" Mingyu questions with a frown. He'd momentarily forgotten about your boyfriend.

"He's coming back tomorrow," you lift yourself off his bed.

"He is?" Mingyu asks.

"Yes," you open the door. "So just give me some time to talk to him and figure everything out so I can come back to you and finish this conversation. For real."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

When you walk out of Mingyu's house, you're surprised to see a familiar black car parked in front of your house. You can see that no one is inside, so you rush through your front door and bolt into your bedroom.

"Wonwoo?" you ask.

"Hey," he smiles. He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your frame and giving you warmth.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't gonna be back until tomorrow."

"My parents thought we were cutting it too close coming back tomorrow because we have school the next day. They wanted to give me time to get situated, unpack and get over the jetlag and stuff," he pulls away. He pushes your hair back behind your ear. "I wanted to come see you though. I feel like I've barely spoken to you since I left."

"I know, I've had a lot going on," you feel a ping of guilt pump into your heart. "How'd you get in?"

"I caught your mom leaving on my way in. She told me you were in here, guess she didn't realize you had left," he explains. "Where were you anyway?"

"I was at Mingyu's," you tell him.

"Oh?" you can tell he's surprised, maybe even a little hurt. "You two are talking again?"

You shake your head. "Not really, it's weird."

"Is that what's been bothering you so much lately?" he asks.

You fear you'll blurt out too much if this conversation goes on any longer. You are with your boyfriend right now, don't want to talk or think about Mingyu.

Impulsively, you shut him up with a kiss. He hesitates at first, but soon enough he's molding into your touch. He kisses you back, allowing his arms to snake their way around your waist. Your hand comes up to his chest, and you push him lightly. Bodies connected, you two sink onto your bed.

"Don't wanna talk," you say between kisses. "Missed you so much."

This is bad, fuck it's so bad. You don't know where your head's at right now. You told yourself you were going to talk to him but you're doing the total opposite. You've always been the type to talk out your feelings, not run away from them, and definitely not this way. You know better.

But it feels so good. You really have missed him, his warmth, his scent, his touch. You know better than to do this, but you couldn't care less at the moment.

With you on top of him, you grind your lower half down as you continue to kiss him needily. He moans into your mouth, cock hardening beneath you.

His hands are on your lower back, pressing into your waist. You break away from the kiss momentarily, pulling his shirt off before connecting your lips yet again. Every touch from your hands was rash and needy.

You pull away again, stripping yourself of all your clothes but your undergarments. With the extra layer gone, you continue to grind yourself down on him. You're sure he can feel the wet patch forming on your panties, not that he'd ever complain. You're quick to reconnect your lips, bringing him back into a heated and passionate kiss.

You snake an arm around your back, unhooking your bra with one hand and tossing it onto the floor. Wonwoo doesn't realize how far you're planning to take this until he hears you opening your drawer. You slide your hand into the drawer, pulling out a box of condoms Mingyu gifted as a joke.

Wonwoo pulls away suddenly. "Shit... are you sure?" he asks.

"Yeah," you let out in a rush.

You really didn't plan on going all the way with him this early in your relationship. You figured it would happen eventually, but not nearly this soon. It's been a little under three months and it would be the smart thing to step on the breaks instead of moving so fast.

But you are in a desperate need of a distraction.

"Like actually? Because we talked about this and decided that we weren't gonna-"

"I changed my mind," you cut him off. "I want this, I promise."

He searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation.

"You don't want me?" you ask.

"Course I do," he licks his lips. "Just wanna make sure you're not gonna regret this."

"I won't." You will. You somewhat already do and it hasn't even happened yet.

You press a soft kiss on his lips for assurance. Then another. Then another. At the third kiss, hi holds you by the back of your neck, kissing you back with fervor. You moan against his lips.

He sits up before flipping you over and pinning you down to the bed. He pulls his sweatpants off, leaving him in just his underwear. He hovers over you as you rid yourself of your panties and pull one of the rubbers out the box.

"Need to stretch you out first," he groans, taking the gold piece of foil out of your hand and placing it back on your nightstand.

"No," you whine, grinding against his thigh needily.

"No?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Just put it in," you beg. "Please."

He plants a soft kiss on your lips. "You know I can't do that. You won't be able to take me," he coos. "2 minutes, I promise."

You huff out in frustration to which he laughs. Though, your frustration is soon forgotten when his fingers find their way to your pussy. He runs his fingers through your folds, coating his digits with your arousal. You let out a breath of satisfaction.

He pushes his middle finger inside of you as his thumb draws small circles on your clit. Your head sinks deeper into the pillow as you let out a long moan.

"Moremoremore," you beg.

He obliges, abandoning your clit and pushing his ring finger inside of you. He stretches you out so good, fingers picking up their pace and pleasuring you deliciously.

"Good girl," he hums.

You're rocking your hips into his fingers desperately. It feels so fucking good. When he curls his fingers inside of you, it instantly sends you over the edge. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you cry out in pleasure.

His cock twitches in anticipation as he feels you tightening and throbbing around his fingers. He's quick to strip naked and tear open the foil with his teeth while you come down from your high. He slides the rubber onto his length and situates himself above you. His cock rests against your folds.

He slides his cock against you teasingly. He watches your face grow impatient and contort with pleasure. When he's done teasing you, he finally slips part of his length into you.

"You okay?" he asks.

You let out a choked breath. "Yes."

"Fuck maybe two minutes wasn't enough," he groans. "So fucking tight."

You hold onto his biceps, gripping and squeezing as he fill you up with the rest of his length. You figure he was right, you definitely wouldn't have been able to take him without prep.

He sets a steady pace, hips pushing against you slowly as you adjust to him. He listens, paying attention to how your strangled moans turn into cries of pleasure. He takes this as an invitation to move faster, picking up the pace as he fucks himself into you.

Your eyes are screwed shut and you're sinking into the pillow. You're sure your nails are scratching into his biceps as you hold onto him.

"Fuck," he groans.

His hand finds its way to your swollen bud. His finger continues to draw circles on your sensitive nub, filling you with more pleasure each passing second.

It feels good not to feel. To be so focused on how good the sex is that you're longer in your head. You cry out his name again when he sends to back into a state of bliss. You're holding onto him for dear life, crying out and babbling as your mind goes blank.

He follows behind you soon after, spilling into the condom as his thrusts grow messy. He pulls out and collapses on the bed next to you. You're both trying to catch your breaths, panting heavily as you come down.

He presses a kiss onto your forehead. "C'mon, you gotta go pee baby."

You frown as he brings you fully back into reality. It was but a fleeting moment that you didn't feel anything. Didn't have to think about Mingyu or Wonwoo.

You groan, but he helps you up and into the bathroom. He disposes of the used condom while you pee and joins you in the shower.Not much is said, but it's nice to be so close to him. He helps you wash your body, soft and delicate hands tracing over your skin with care.

He takes such good care of you and it makes you feel like shit that you're questioning whether or not you want to be with him. You've been crushing on him since you were a literal freshman and now that he's finally yours, he's even better than you thought he would be and you still have doubts.

After your shower, he ensured that you're well fed, making you ramen before joining you in bed. He holds you close to him the entire night.

You wake up the next morning with Wonwoo still in your bed. He's sleeping next to you peacefully and snoring lightly. Looking at him only makes you feel worse about yourself.

You sneak of of your bed, careful not to wake him. Curiously, you take a peak at the window. Mingyu is already awake in his room. It's only a few moments before he catches you staring at him.

But this time, there's no witty text message. He simply walks up to the window and closes his blinds.

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-taglist- @knucklesdeepmingi @marksflute @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @heidilolx @listxn @misssugarlips @lizzylovesboo @haogyuslut @taestrwbrry @everyw0nu @luvthatleader-nim @luveveryonewoo @jakecaffe @xeezi @wasteitonserendipity @whyokoa @shapeofgyu @fixonbreakoff @notscoupy @boo-juns @superheros-and-others @mingkis-world @thesmolishbean @bobohumyonlyboo @deekayownsme

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen angst #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #svt mingyu #mingyu fanfic #minwon #kpop

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romanarose · 10 months

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I'm thinking “my lipgloss is all over your lips.” - with Steven 🥺 because I just like thinking about kissing him and having his lips all plump and glossy hehe.

CONGRATS AGAIN ON 1K BABE YOU DESERVE ALL OF THAT AND MORE

Lucky for you, I was feeling v soft about Steven today because today if the anniversary of when I started writing my first Moon Knight series, the one that started it all for me here, Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside

It's a little rough but it was my first baby

Anyway, this is basically cheating bc its a scene from that series that I thought was just so cute and deserved to been seen without having to have read all 33 chapters of that series XD Origenally it was steven x oc so i changed it to second person, don't hate me for cheating lol! If you see a "Her" or "sam" just ignore, it's meant to be "you" Also, it's chapstick not lip gloss. sorry.

Summary: While fucking Steven, your lips get dry, and that shit drives you crazy

Warnings: PIV smut, uuuuuhhhhhh. is that it? its just sweet and smutty

Dry Lips

Steven Grant x f!reader

(reader had hair that can be gripped)

“You’re doing so good for me baby.” You were riding on top of a sweaty, writhing Steven. “You look so sexy under me, pretty boy.” You ran your hands up and down his perfect body, gliding easily with the layer of sweat.

Steven was drowning in the pleasure of you, soft blankets under him and soft skin on top. “Fuck darling, fuck, please…” He wines, pinching his eyes together.

“Not yet baby, open your eyes, I want to look at you…”

But Steven was unable to do as he was told, too enthralled in pleasure to listen.

“Steven, baby…” You warn as your voice lowers., slowing your movement over him. “Open, you know I like to see your pretty eyes when you’re so deep inside me, fucking me so good, please? Please can I see them, my love?”

“Fuck” Steven’s sparkling, watery eyes look at you as he grips your hips, forcibly moving her along his length.

“Good boy” You coo, playing with his hair as you scanned his face, taking in all his features until you met his eyes. You could never doubt he loved you, not when he looked at you like that. “Shit” She muttered.

Steven frowned. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You flashed a smile at him. “Oh, I’m doing great, Steven.”

“Bloody hell” He writhes beneath you. “Say my name again, love.”

“Oh Steven, my sweet, sweet Steven…” You pout, watching him come undone as you rock your hips. “It’s almost unbearable how good you look, all a mess for me, your cock so deep inside me…”

Steven threw his head back, keeping his eyes on you. “Fuck darling, if you keep talking like, I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Poor baby… one sec, give me your hand?”

Steven was confused but did as you asked.

“Don’t drop me.” Holding onto Steven’s hand (and never stopping your movements on him), you leaned over to your nightstand, grabbing chapstick. Steven pulled you back up, and you put a thick layer of Carmex on your lips.

Steven smiles, shaking his head. “You and your chapstick…” His hand went to her clit, making you pick up your movements.

You giggle, Steven’s favorite sound on this earth. “I can’t concentrate if they're dry!”

“Well” Steven huffs out, focusing hard on not coming. “At least share.”

“Happy to oblige, pretty boy.” You lean over him, kissing him deeply, spreading the chapstick over his dry lips. You'd have to do this more often. “There, now my chapstick is all over your lips. You ready, pretty baby?” You asked him, damn-well knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes please, love, please? I need to come in you, pleeeease…?” He begs for his release, rutting up against you. “You’re so beautiful darling, I can’t hardly take it sometimes.”

You cup his face, leaning close to those lips you love so much. “Come for me, Sunshine?”

With a loud grunt, Steven grabbed your hair and pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, spreading the chapstick all over as you feel him spilling his warmth inside you. He wrapped you up closely, rolling you over so he on top and continued fucking into you. “I love you, I love you so much sweetheart… I’m yours, you’re mine, yeah? Tell me you’re mine, please love?”

“I’m yours, all yours, my sweet baby… my sexy, pretty baby…” You mumble into his mouth as Steven started slowing down. “Fucking me so good Steven, filling me up with your cum, making me yours… claiming me…”

“Fuuuuck.” He drew it out and thrust in for the last time, collapsing onto you. As he softened, he began to pull out, but you stop him, clutching to his back.

“Stay with me, please? I need you close, Sunshine…” You nuzzle your face into his neck, leaving gentle kisses.

“Of course, darling.” Steven stayed on top of you in a loving embrace, inside you, as close as two people can get.

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

anyway i hope those who have read sunshine arent disappointed i stole it for this lol lol

(where my chipstick/gloss, whatever peeps. i just keep a jar of vasaline in my classroom lmfao, there so much chaptstick or carmax or whatever all over my house)

@whatthefishh @eyelessfaces @jake-g-lockley @fandxmslxt69 @littlenosoul @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#romana's 1000 follower celebration #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant reader #steven grant reader fanfiction #steven grant fem reader #steven grant my beloved #steven grant reader smut #f!reader

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thedroneranger · 9 months

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The Drone Ranger's Be Kind Rewind ⏪ SometimesAnAlice Edition!

A rec reblog series dedicated to the fics that we love so much, we've re-read them!

@sometimesanalice's Rewind has landed! I have to give kudos for the commentary; I enjoyed reading it immensely! Plus, this peak hype person energy, and I am here for it!

While we continue to churn out amazing new content, let's be kind and rewind to look at some of the OG content we love! And don't forget to reblog when you re-read! Continue to show your comfort fics and favorite creators some love. It helps keep the fresh content coming :)

Let's keep this going throughout the summer, so if you're interested in participating in the Be Kind Rewind, message me. The more, the merrier!

If you want to know when a new Rewind drops, join the tag list, and check out previous Rewinds!

fics below the cut (listed in alphabetical order by title)

baby, i’m high octane, Jake Seresin, @laracrofted I could write papers and sing songs about how much I love this series. I refuse to remain calm about it because it is so devastatingly good. Ames has such a stunning way with words, I am always so immersed and transported and blown away by her work. There are lines in her stories that just stick with me for days and parts that I think about endlessly. (I’m also delicate about Delicate, do not get me started!) But BIHO is in a league of its own. Nora is an OC who you instantly love and root for right from the very first chapter. There is something so special about the way Jake is written in this story, the layer of depth he has is so compelling to me. And it has been such a treat going on the journey with them as they find their way to each other in the dreamiest of slowburns. Add this to the top of your TBR pile, you won’t be sorry!

can't unfeel that, Jake Seresin, @theharddeck I think about this fic A LOT. The yearning and pining and emotional intimacy is so deliciously angsty as these friends-with-benefits fight the deeper feelings they’re developing without knowing the other person is feeling the exact same way. Sana does an incredible job building the tension and exploring the dynamics between these two as they try (and fail) to keep it casual. It’s bittersweet, it’s juicy, it’s unforgettable. And fair warning, the smut in this will send you into a tizzy.

Government Issued, Bradley Bradshaw, @bradshawsbaby I love this trope so much, I get such a kick out of the idea that people are out there getting fined for “defacing Naval property”, but this one in particular is so much fun! There is a lovely sense of domesticity that makes this such a cozy, fluffy story to read. However, it’s the build up and the banter that never ceases to amuse me! I love to revisit when I need a good laugh.

Jealousy, Bradley Bradshaw, @gretagerwigsmuse I am the self appointed president of the Smart Aleck and Bradley fan club. These two have had me in a chokehold since the moment I read them and they haven’t let go of me since. I had such a hard time picking which to highlight for this because I love and reread so many (sending all my love to skyrockets in flight, afternoon delight). No one breaks my heart and puts it back together or makes me yearn and pine or giggle and blush like these two. They are my favorites and I’m so thankful for them because their story is so special. The care and attention to detail that Jordan puts into her fics is just unmatched. But there is something about Coach Dadley Dadshaw that just warms my heart in the best way. I love getting to see the sweet glimpses into the future and lovely life that these two get to build together, I’m truly so soft over it. This story in particular gets me with Dadley!Bradley, Jealous!Bradley, and all the witty banter that Jordan writes so well! It has got it all: fluffy feels, humor, and a dash of smutty goodness!

Mighty Fine, Bradley Bradshaw, @thebirdandthebee The way this fic gets me grinning and buzzing every time I read it! The fluffy, smutty adrenaline rush of it all! I have so much love for the smitten Rooster in this story! He is so gone and so soft for the OC Caroline, who is an absolute firecracker. The build up is such a fun one that you can’t help but cheer for him when he finally gets his girl!

No Sex with the Ex, Bradley Bradshaw, @tongue-like-a-razor Lena has so many stories on her masterlist that I go back to again and again and again (shout out to The Zipper Incident and Faking It and Less Talk). She is the QUEEN of tension and electric, witty banter. They always read so effortlessly and I am constantly left in awe at the finesse of her storytelling! I always find myself swooning, and laughing, and yearning when I read her stories! There are so many things I love about this in particular from the Hangster bromance to the jealous!bradley to the pining of it all! No matter how many times I read it, I still get a little thrill from it!

Red Flags, Green Flags, Bradley Bradshaw, @roosterforme There’s a reason this story has 4K+ notes on it: it’s fun, it’s flirty, it’s perfect! "Are you asking me on a date while I'm technically still on a date with Jake?" you asked him with a grin.//"Oh, your date with Jake ended a good thirty minutes ago," he informed you with a very serious look. "Now you're on a first date with me. You having fun?"-- NEED I SAY MORE? Your honor, I rest my case.

Tuesday Night (prequel to Not A Coincidence), Bradley Bradshaw, @sehnsuchts-trunken There is nothing more that I love than a slow burn and some good old fashioned mutual pining, and this little duology has it in spades! Mary’s Reader is so quippy and sarcastic, the banter always gets me laughing. The tension and chemistry is so palpable in these fics, you can’t help but be greedy about wanting to read more! And it doesn’t hurt that Rooster is just so swoon worthy.

Untitled childhood Bradley series, Bradley Bradshaw, @the-ace-with-spades I have read a lot of angsty stories that hit me in the feels, but nothing has quite ruined me emotionally like this series has. This universe where after Carole’s death Bradley goes to live with Mav and Ice, as he tries to figure out where he fits in this new family is absolutely gut wrenching in the best way. There have been times where it was so hard to read because I was blinded by the tears in my eyes. The way it makes my heart ache! It’s still a work in progress, but I am so hopeful for a soft landing.

You Don’t Get to Taste the Honey Without the Sting of the Bee, Bradley Bradshaw, @notroosterbradshaw No list is complete without something from Cass! There are so many that I debated picking (g.u.y, the boyfriend experience, the 1%), but the angst in this one just sticks to my ribs and I think about it often. When Cass leans into the angst, she really LEANS into it and this one hurts so good. Bradley is so realistically flawed in a way that makes you want to shake him for being so blasé to his partner’s feelings. I love the way Reader sticks up for herself and I ache for her in the way her partner is the source of her pain. It’s complicated and messy and real and I love it. Hit me in the feels and I will come back for more, and Cass keeps me coming back for more!

Creator's Own

Give Me Your Hand {Here is My Heart} (2-part Series) The ‘Like I Can’ series is something that took on a life of its own. What was supposed to be a little one shot turned into a three part series that turned into a universe of its own that takes up half of my masterlist. I love writing for these two, but I am really partial to this little mini-series that explores their relationship and builds up to their first time together. I think there are some fun moments, but also some tender and emotional ones as they take that final step from being just friends to being something more. Next from me will be Vol. 2 to Leave a Light On!

Tag list and friends: @petcr3 @desert-fern @Sagittarius-Lovewitch @mygyn @sweetwhispersofchaos @horseshoegirl @the-annoying-fan @dingochef @moon42flight @thecitysgraveyard @ereardon @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner

A kind reminder, this is a 18+ blog. While not all stories in the recommendation list are 18+, please respect boundaries and do not interact unless you are 18 years of age or older.

#tgm be kind rewind #sometimesanalice #top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #hangman #rooster x reader #tgm fic rec

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naughtyneganjdm · 1 year

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Mine - Chapter 4

Summary: Joel still has trouble showing affection to Y/N and Ellie steps in to give him a pep-talk about what he needs to do in order to make things right. Things become awkward when Y/N goes to see Negan who acts like nothing happened between the two of them.

Characters: Joel Miller (TLOU), Negan (TWD), the reader (OC, third person), Ellie Williams (TLOU), Tommy Miller (TLOU), Maria Miller (TLOU) etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45115177/chapters/114077854

Warnings: Swearing, angst, minor mentions of smut, etc.

Notes: Thank you to those that have given this story a try. I appreciate you reading it. Gif Credits: @magnusedom & @londoncapsule

Life was complicated enough as it was. The last thing Y/N needed right now was the world throwing a wrench into the natural flow of things to shake her world up even more. It seemed like when there was so much going on, the world always had a way of throwing more at you and that’s how Y/N felt. Right now she felt overwhelmed and confused.

Waking up today should have felt incredible. There should have been nothing, but happiness that she was feeling. When she fell asleep last night, she got the one thing she always wanted. To have Joel hold her in his arms. To comfort her and be with her before bed. For over a year it was the one thing she craved the most. It was perfect and it felt amazing. It was the closest feeling to happiness she had in so long. After a few days of not being able to sleep, it finally put her at ease and made her comfortable enough to fall asleep. Then again, it wasn’t hard feeling at ease with the warmth of Joel’s arms wrapped around her. It led her to feel protected by Joel. And it was a dream come true for her.

It was her dreams where things got confusing. There was one thing that repeated in her mind like a goddamn record that was stuck on repeat.

I love you.

And it was Negan that she was picturing. Everything he said last night was perfect. It was what you would want to hear from the person you were in love with, but it was her best friend. Her incredibly affectionate, sweet, supportive, good looking best friend that had always been there from the start.

Gazing over at Joel’s side of the bed, Y/N could feel her heart hammering inside of her chest. Joel had found his way back to his corner of the bed during the night. It would have been nice to wake up in his arms too, but maybe it was for the best that she didn’t because even in her sleep she thought about Negan’s kisses. At this point it did feel like a dream. One that her brain conjured up because she had been longing to hear it from someone for so long, but she knew it really happened.

Swallowing down hard, she felt that her throat was dry and she wondered if she should tell Joel what she had done last night in kissing Negan. Multiple times Negan had tried to convince her that it was just because she had gotten emotional over them almost dying together, but she wondered if that was truly the reason. Deep down, she figured that was why Negan told her that he loved her. It was one of those moments where your mortality was in question and it made you do things that you wouldn’t normally do.

Everything that Y/N wanted in Joel, Negan seemed to be. He was affectionate and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He said all the right things and always made her feel seen. Confusion would be an understatement right now because she would be lying if she said she didn’t have some sort of feelings for Negan, but she knew that she was head over heels in love with Joel. Plus, Negan had Morgan so she needed to get that thought out of her mind.

People sometimes got their feelings confused when it came to their best friends, right? She wouldn’t be the first person in the world to gain feelings for their best friend and confused it for something more. It just made her feel bad because all she had been asking of Joel was for him to show her some kind of affection, but it made her think about how Negan had been showing her that for so long. Joel only just started showing her the best that he could after she almost died. After Negan called him out on his actions. But Negan had been showing them all along.

“Shit,” she groaned out, lifting her hands to rub at her face. Stress was starting to get to her and overwhelm her.

There were two men in her life. Two incredible, amazing men that she cared very much about. There was Negan who was the best support system she could have asked for. Showing up at Jackson around the same time as Negan had made them almost immediately closer. When the community was still growing to trust them, they had each other. Negan was one of those people that you could only dream of having in your life. Someone that made your days go by easier. There was no question that she loved being around Negan. His personality and his attitude lifted her up. Joel was someone she was immediately smitten with. There was a connection she felt immediately with him and she knew that she wanted Joel in her life. She knew that from the first moment she met him. Even though he did his best to hide them, she knew there was so much good to Joel and he just needed someone to have faith in him to help him be the best he could be. It was just so hard to let him know that it was okay. That he could be the man that he wanted to be. There was just so much pain and trauma in his past that it made it hard to be with him sometimes, but that didn’t hide the fact that she was completely in love with him.

The sun was starting to rise and she knew that this would be around the time that she would typically get up for work. Yet, there was no work for her to do right now. With her getting hurt yesterday, it meant that she was supposed to lounge around and rest. She was never the resting type, so that was going to be hard. As soon as she got the okay from the doctor that she would be fine to work again, she hoped that Maria and Tommy found a good place to put her.

Getting up slowly, she still felt an incredible ache in her body from what happened the day before. If anything she hurt more today than she did yesterday. Then again, she figured that was because of the adrenaline spike in her body when everything happened. When she stood from the bed, she had to take a moment to gather herself before she started moving again. After getting dressed she went for the stairs and could only picture how terrible she looked moving down them.

“You look like shit,” Ellie’s young voice caught Y/N’s attention when she finally reached the bottom step. Ellie was sitting at the counter eating some cereal for breakfast and Y/N had to stop to gain her energy back.

“I feel like shit,” Y/N informed Ellie with a wince finally getting the strength to head to the kitchen to get herself a mug. Before getting the coffee started for the morning, she made sure to grab the pain medicine they had given her the day before. Quickly swallowing it down, she braced her hands against the counter.

“Do you need help?” Ellie offered but Y/N shook her head. She didn’t want people to pamper her in this moment. She needed to work through it herself. When Y/N started making the coffee, Ellie groaned out and took a big bite of her breakfast. “I don’t know how you and Joel drink that shit. It smells like ass.”

“I’m not sure if I could make it through the day without the caffeine,” she explained to Ellie with a small smirk. Moving around the kitchen, she reached out to curl her arm around Ellie to give her a hug at first. Ellie looked up to give Y/N a strange glance before getting up from her seat to wrap her arms carefully around Y/N.

“I can do a hug,” Ellie responded making Y/N lower her head to rest her chin on top of Ellie’s head while she hugged her. “Is this one of those you are appreciating life more moments because you almost died?”

“I just feel like we need to start showing the people we care about affection while we’re here and I love you kiddo,” she responded with a heavy sigh making Ellie smile before releasing Y/N from the hug to allow her to go get the coffee that was ready.

“I love you too,” Ellie smirked showing that the interaction actually made Ellie happy to hear something like that. Being with Joel had its perks. Ellie was one of those things. It gave her a relationship with a child that she never thought she would have. Especially in a world like this. In a way, Ellie felt like she was her adoptive daughter and she enjoyed getting to spend the time with her. Ellie was definitely one of those things that made being with Joel easier. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m alive, so that’s good, right?” Y/N didn’t want to stress her woes or her pain to Ellie, so she just pushed it aside. “Any pain I’m feeling, that’s what the medication is for, right?”

“I can’t believe you were almost killed yesterday. And it was from an accident of all things,” Ellie stressed with a shake of her head. “All the crazy things to almost die from in this world and you almost get crushed by a fucking turbine. Thank God for Negan, huh?”

“No kidding,” Y/N swallowed down after pouring herself some coffee. Wrapping her fingers around the mug, she allowed the warmth to warm her hands while she thought about Negan and everything that happened the night before. Even though Y/N considered herself best friends with Negan, it was clear that Ellie knew Negan more than Y/N actually did. Which, thinking about it was kind of sad. “Ellie, is Negan good with Morgan?”

“Sure,” Ellie thought about it for a moment and nodded her head about. “Morgan loves the hell out of him. And he makes sure that he’s very involved in her life and makes it known that he loves her. Their relationship is very sweet.”

“Oh,” Y/N felt a lump develop in her throat hearing that. If Negan loved Morgan so much, then why did he say the things that he did to her? Why tell her that he loved her? Wasn’t that unfair to Morgan? And why the hell was Y/N getting jealous hearing that? Y/N had Joel. Being jealous over a relationship that Negan had with someone else should have not been upsetting her as much as it was.

“Why do you ask?” Ellie finished up with her breakfast and pushed her bowl forward and away from her on the counter.

“I’ve just never seen the two of them together. I’ve never even met Morgan, so…” Y/N began making Ellie snicker and her face scrunched up. “What?”

“You’ve never met Morgan and you consider Negan your best friend?” Ellie almost poked fun at her making Y/N shrug her shoulders dramatically. Ellie wasn’t wrong. There were a lot of things that made her feel like a shitty friend with Negan when she thought about it. “That’s strange.”

“I’m busy a lot. I haven’t been in Negan’s home, ever. Last night was the first time that I was,” she declared making Ellie tip her head to the side. “I couldn’t sleep last night and I went over there to thank him. I kept thinking about my life and I knew I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. So I wanted him to know that I was thankful that he saved me.”

“Makes sense,” Ellie acknowledged hearing the sound of a groan when she looked to the stairs to see that Joel was making his way down them. “Good morning old man! I see the dinosaurs wanted to get up later this morning.”

Instead of responding, Joel just gave Ellie a huff and she chuckled to herself. Mornings were usually when Joel was the grumpiest and Ellie loved giving him shit. That was their relationship. Joel took his time making his way to the kitchen to grab his owl mug for himself. Pouring his coffee, Joel took notice that both girls were watching him and he gave them a nod. Joel let out a thankful sound when he took his first sip and it made Y/N smile.

“You’re an angel for making this,” Joel explained enjoying the warmth of the coffee that he eagerly drank down. Joel’s hair was still a mess showing that he was exhausted while he rest back against the counter. With the way that Y/N was staring out at him, he shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “What?”

“Nothing, I just like your hair,” she set her mug down and moved across the kitchen to brush her fingers on her good hand through his hair. Joel’s eyes were hooked on hers with her so close to him. “Do you want to make breakfast together?”

“I should be going in early. Tommy and I are going to have to figure out how to fix the platform and the building,” Joel frowned, his eyebrows furrowing while her fingers slid down from his hair over his jawline. Teasing them through his facial hair over his jawline, he noticed the way her eyes looked over his lips and his gaze went to Ellie who was watching the two of them.

“Making breakfast doesn’t take that long,” Y/N pointed out, her thumb dragging out over Joel’s bottom lip. “How about pancakes?”

“I don’t like pancakes,” Joel grumbled, his face scrunching up when a rumble fell from his throat. Huffing out, he turned on his heel knowing that she didn’t mean to but hearing her say that reminded him of Sarah and his past. Lowering his head, he cupped at the mug full of his coffee and felt her hands sliding in over his sides.

“I forgot, I’m sorry,” she apologized making him feel uncomfortable with how touchy she was being in front of Ellie. Leaning in, she rest her head against his broad back when she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist. “We can do some eggs then, some toast and maybe some freshly squeezed orange juice?”

“I really have to get going,” Joel repeated turning in her arms to face her, putting a bit of distance between them in the way that he turned in her arms. There was no doubt that Y/N was being incredibly clingy today and he just wasn’t used to all of…this. “It was my job before the world fell to shit. Being a contractor. So I’m the only person that would really get this work done quickly. That’s what I’m really good at.”

“The contractor,” Ellie grumbled out in a distorted voice making Y/N chuckle and Joel gazed over at Ellie with a shake of his head showing by the smirk at his lips that he was amused by her antics.

“What was that?” Y/N questioned making Ellie snicker and toss her hands up in amusement.

“It’s a joke between Joel and I,” Ellie nodded her head while Joel sipped down on his coffee. “I’m sure they would be okay if you stayed home with Y/N today. After what happened, I think people would understand. I would stay with her if I could, but I have school. Which you can fuck off for that by the way.”

“You’re still a kid. You need to study,” Joel grumbled making Ellie dramatically roll her eyes.

“In this world, what the hell is going to school going to do for me?” Ellie pushed for answers and Joel stared out at her blankly making her laugh. Instead of giving her an answer, Joel simply grunted and went back to drinking his coffee. “Exactly! It’s not going to help me at all.”

“You just have to,” Joel moved out of Y/N’s grasps and reached for the cereal that Ellie had eaten earlier. Grabbing a bowl, Joel poured some of the cereal in for himself and reached for the milk that Ellie still had out. Lifting it up, he sniffed the milk to make sure that it was still good making Ellie’s face scrunch up. “I just have to check.”

“I guess that’s a no on breakfast?” Y/N rest back against the island at the center of the kitchen making Joel glance back over her before shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe you can just go in and come home early to be with me?”

“You know I can’t do that,” Joel responded making Y/N nod before swallowing down hard. “If you want a warm breakfast today, you should go to the dining hall to grab something when we leave. It makes sense for you to do as little as possible so you can rest.”

“Right,” Y/N’s cheeks flushed over and Ellie immediately picked up on the fact that Y/N’s feelings seemed to be hurt. It made Ellie want to smack Joel for his ignorance, but she stayed quiet.

Joel’s stare fell upon Ellie and he nodded toward the stairs, “Go get ready for school. I’ll walk with you.”

“Got it,” Ellie hopped up from her seat looking between both Joel and Y/N. “Be right back.”

When Ellie was gone, Y/N took a second to think about things before stretching her hands out across the top of the counter. Joel was standing facing away from her while he was eating the cereal he had gotten himself, “Joel, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?” Joel spoke with a mouthful, turning on his heel to stare out at her. He was holding the bowl in his hands while still chewing. When she was silent, his eyebrows bounced up and he shook his head. “What is it?”

“Are we okay?” she felt uncomfortable that he seemed tense with her again. “We went to bed and things seemed good, but now…”

“Everything is fine,” Joel interrupted her taking a bite, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, but…” she noticed him look down at his bowl while he pushed the spoon around. Thinking back to the night before, she felt her throat go dry thinking about Negan. “There is something I need to tell you. It’s kind of important. It has to deal with Negan…”

“I know. You told him all about our relationship,” Joel commented making her words come to a quick halt. “So I know to expect shit out of his mouth now because he knows it all. You don’t have to worry about that. I told you it was fine.”

“It’s not that,” she felt her face getting warm with him repeatedly cutting her off this morning. She wanted so badly to tell him about kissing Negan, but she could tell that he was already in a closed off, potentially bad mood this morning. What she did with Negan was just making her feel guilty and she felt like she needed to be honest with Joel about things. “It’s just I was talking to Negan and…”

“I don’t care what you told your best friend. I’m not going to lie, I’m really sick of talking about Negan,” Joel informed her with another mouthful. Hearing that surprised her because there seemed to be some anger in his tone when he said it. “I feel like over the last day we’ve talked about Negan more than I care to admit. I don’t hate the guy and I appreciate that he saved your life. I know he’s your best friend, but I don’t want to talk about Negan anymore. Okay? He’s not in our relationship and the less we talk about your interactions with him. The better.”

“I just wish you would listen to me for once this morning,” Y/N begged of Joel hearing the sounds of footsteps returning. Ellie stepped at the entrance of the kitchen to stare between the two of them seeing that there was an upset expression over Y/N’s features.

“Do you need me to come back in a few?” Ellie pointed over her shoulder, clutching to the backpack that she had slung over it. “It looks like you were in the middle of something.”

“No, we’re good,” Joel shoved in the last few bites of his breakfast before setting the bowl down in the sink. Rubbing his hands together, Joel moved around the kitchen and grabbed a few things. “Let’s head out. We need to get you to school.”

Urging Ellie toward the front door, Joel heard Y/N call out to him and he stopped. Y/N bit at her bottom lip when Joel nodded his head about waiting for whatever it was she wanted, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Not that I can think of,” Joel retorted making Ellie roll her eyes and huff before walking off to the front door. Joel checked to make sure that he grabbed everything before pointing toward the door. “I’m going to head out. You should probably just go back to bed and get some rest after you eat, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can be.”

Swiftly heading to the door, Joel could see that Ellie was already outside and he closed the front door behind him, “Hey! Wait up.”

“You’re an idiot,” Ellie looked over at Joel while she walked to town toward her school.

“Why?” Joel grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets while he walked side by side with her.

“Because she was asking you to kiss her before you left. Maybe give her a hug,” Ellie educated Joel on what Y/N was asking of him before he left. “I know without a doubt you just hurt her feelings so fucking bad. Is it a man thing? Or is it a you thing?”

“That’s not what she was saying. She was just asking me if I forgot something,” Joel stopped walking hearing Ellie let out a defeated sound. Ellie stopped as well, turning to face Joel when his neck tensed.

“You’re not used to women, are you?” Ellie pulled at the straps of her backpack, shaking her head while Joel clearly had issues understanding what she was going off on. “Y/N was trying to be affectionate with you and you’re an idiot. The girl was asking you for a kiss before you left for work.”

“Then why didn’t she just say that?” Joel’s southern drawl rumbled making Ellie drop her head back and groan out. “Wouldn’t she ask me for that if that’s what she wanted?”

“How old are you? Fifty-seven and you still don’t understand how women work?” Ellie reached out to push at the center of Joel’s chest making him grunt. “I’m fifteen and I get it more than you do. You suck at this whole relationship thing.”

“I’ve never been the best at relationships,” Joel threw his hands up in the air making Ellie bob her head dramatically.

“That’s obvious,” she blurt out making Joel grunt something underneath his breath. Joel rest his hands at his hips and Ellie shook her head. “She just wants you to love her man. No woman wants to tell you to kiss them. They want you to want to kiss them. She wants to feel special Joel.”

“God, I’m trying. Last night I told her that she was my girlfriend and I cuddled with her. It was two things that I don’t really do. But I did my best. I’m trying to give her things that she wants, why am I always so wrong and hurting her when I’m trying?” Joel emphasized on his words feeling flustered that he was always seeming to do things wrong. It felt silly saying these things to Ellie. Talking about his love life with her didn’t seem…right. “I shouldn’t even be talking about this with you.”

“You should because maybe you might actually get some good advice that will help you,” Ellie snorted, her young features looking disappointed in Joel. Other children from town were walking to school, but Ellie knew she could get away with being late. “You need to keep making her feel good. You have to kiss her, hug her, tell her that she’s special. You’re gonna lose her man.”

“No, I won’t,” Joel shook his head and folded his arms in front of his chest. “She knows that I’m trying. And she loves me. She tells me all the time.”

“Was what you just did in there trying? Because if that was trying you failed my dude,” Ellie insisted pointing back toward the house. “She wanted you to kiss her when you first came into the kitchen. And nothing.”

“We shouldn’t be making out in front of you,” Joel pointed out making Ellie reach up to drag her hands down her face in a frustrated manner. “What? We shouldn’t be.”

“Kissing her is not making out with her. People kiss Joel and they hug!” Ellie looked down the street seeing that a couple was outside talking before one of them was about to leave. Ellie pointed off in the distance making Joel’s eyes squint looking in the direction. The couple kissed before the man left and Ellie nodded. “See! People kiss and no one bats an eye. You have to start being less of a robot. Kiss her when she wants to be kissed! When she wants to make breakfast with you, make it with her. She suggests making pancakes with you and it looked like you would rather die than be anywhere near her.”

“Pancakes just remind me of Sarah,” Joel frowned feeling his chest aching at the thought of it. “It upset me.”

“And how is she supposed to know that unless you tell her?” Ellie inquired making Joel sigh loudly and lower his gaze down toward the ground. “You punished her for that. If I didn’t know you and the way you tick, the way you just acted around her, I would have sworn you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her!” Joel defended himself, placing his hand over the center of his chest and Ellie tossed her hands up.

“I know!” Ellie responded with a huff, her eyebrows furrowing and she rolled her eyes. “That’s my point. You hurt her feelings. She was absolutely crushed. You don’t act like a boyfriend Joel. You don’t act like someone who is in love with her. She just seems like an annoyance to you.”

“That’s not how I mean to do things,” Joel admitted, something catching his eyes when he could see that they weren’t far from Negan’s home. His attention was pulled when he noticed that Negan was limping home.

Ellie was still talking and his attention was elsewhere. With a growl, Joel flinched back when Ellie clapped in his face, “Earth to Joel! Where did you go just now?”

“Sorry! I was just looking at Negan. He should be resting and he’s walking all about town,” Negan took notice of the way that Negan moved. With his sling on and the limp that he had, it seemed like Negan had been hit by a truck.

“Just because he’s hurt doesn’t mean that life stops for him Joel. He has to take care of Morgan,” Ellie stated with a roll of her eyes making Joel shake his head in disgust.

“Why does Morgan need an injured Negan to take care of her? The hell is wrong with this girl?” Joel snapped making Ellie bob her head about clearly flustered with Joel and what he was saying.

“What the hell are you on about? How is Morgan supposed to take care of herself?” Ellie was completely shook with what Joel just said and she rolled her eyes. “Listen, I don’t know what crawled up your ass today but you need to fix things with Y/N. The woman almost died yesterday and you are leaving her alone to herself.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?” Joel asked making Ellie start to pace showing that she had enough with Joel right now.

“If I were you? I would march my ass right back to that house. I would grab her, I would kiss her and I would tell her that she’s perfect. That you care so much about her and you are so fucking thankful that she is still in this damn world,” Ellie was loud and it made the mother that was walking with her child let out an offended breath and Joel’s cheeks flushed over with red.

“Sorry ma’am,” Joel reached out to pull Ellie in closer to him. “That mouth is going to get us in trouble.”

“Regardless Joel, be a man,” Ellie scoffed pulling away from Joel before looking over her shoulder at the school. “I have to go, but please…for the love of God do what I asked of you. You have something good there. She loves you. She loves us. She knows about what happened to me and she has stayed quiet. We’re a family Joel. Don’t ruin it.”

“Ellie…” Joel frowned feeling Ellie move in to wrap her arms around Joel’s waist tightly. Pausing, he lowered down and wrapped her up in his arms to hug her firmly. “Have a good day at school kiddo.”

“Listen to me old man,” Ellie smacked Joel’s shoulder before running off toward school.

Looking over his shoulder, Joel headed back toward home. Walking across the street, he went to pick up Tommy so they could go to work, but he couldn’t help but think about what Ellie had said to him. With a huff, he stayed standing outside and tipped his head from side to side. He was debating which he needed to do more. Listen to Ellie or continue on with life and do what he would normally do.

“Come on Joel,” he tried to coach himself before looking back at Tommy’s house one more time. He had to make a decision and he was so damn conflicted.

“You forget where I live or something old man?” Tommy’s voice called out making Joel look back over his shoulder at his younger brother while he stood in front of Tommy’s house. “Are you getting that fucking old?”

“Haha, so damn funny,” Joel growled when Tommy moved in beside him and bumped him with his shoulder. Joel felt a lump developing in his throat when he gazed to his home again.

“How’s the lady?” Tommy saw Joel’s brow line crease and he nodded.

“She’s sore. Moving slower today,” Joel recalled what he had seen reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “I think the excitement from everything died down and she’s really feeling the effects of the fall that happened afterwards.”

“You sure you want to go to work today?” Tommy spoke up smacking his older brother in the center of the chest with the back of his hand. “I think today we will mainly just be doing cleanup and fixing the turbine. We need to get that sucker in there. It’s crazy how little damage that thing took, but how easily it ripped through the platform.”

“Yeah, of course,” Joel swallowed down feeling Tommy pat him between the shoulders when he nodded his head. Joel watched Tommy run off to the front door to call Maria to say goodbye and give her a quick kiss goodbye. It made Joel think about what Ellie had said. She was right. Y/N wanted to be kissed goodbye. That’s what normal couples did. Joel just knew that he wasn’t…normal. He warned her of that from the start, but he knew that she just wanted to feel some sort of normal with their relationship. Rubbing at the back of his neck, Joel ultimately decided to stay and wait for Tommy instead of doing what Ellie said.

On their way to the powerplant, Tommy was heavily focused on what happened the day before. Talking about how bad he felt about things happening. How it was his fault. Negan and Y/N were heavy topics of discussion for him, but Joel was quiet and kind of locked inside of himself, “I’m surprised that Negan and Y/N aren’t furious with me. They almost died and they didn’t take it out on me.”

“Tommy, am I a bad…” Joel stopped walking, turning to his younger brother who seemed surprised that Joel stopped so abruptly. Joel was having a hard time thinking things out when he threw his hands about. “A bad partner?”

“A bad partner?” Tommy wasn’t sure where his brother was going with that subject.

“A significant other to Y/N,” Joel explained further making Tommy’s dark eyes narrow and Joel watched his brother immediately look away from him. “I am, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know Joel, it’s none of my business,” Tommy rambled making Joel huff loudly. “I don’t know what you want me to say Joel.”

“I want you to be honest with me,” Joel thought about Ellie’s words and they were really weighing heavy on him. He was regretting not doing what Ellie told him to. “I’m not good to her, am I?”

“You’re not bad to her,” Tommy responded with a shrug, shaking his head. “I just think, you could be better. I think you’re…cold. And that’s not exactly your fault, but the only person that I’ve seen you show extensive amounts of love to is me and the kid. Most of the town knows the two of you are together, but then they question it because you’re such…”

“An asshole?” Joel filled in the blanks hearing his little brother huff.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Tommy stammered feeling visibly uncomfortable. “I just think you are with someone who gives so much love to you. I’ve never seen someone try so hard to make someone happy. The gal loves you, Joel. It’s rare we find someone in this life that wants us happy. In this world, we’re lucky to be with anyone, you know. Big brother, I just…it’s just who you are. Sometimes you’re hard, but the girl is willing to put in the effort for you. I reckon that says that you are doing something right.”

Letting out an overwhelmed rumble, Joel bounced on his feet for a minute before starting to take slow steps backward, “Tommy, I have to come in later today. There are things I have to do and I just…I need some time. Okay?”

“Of course. Take your time,” Tommy assured Joel with a nod seeing Joel head back in the other direction, moving swiftly back toward the homes. “Don’t overdo it big brother. You’re fucking old.”

Ignoring his brother’s mocks, Joel rushed home and when he got there, he ran up the stairs to the door. Bursting through the door, he could feel his heart hammering inside of his chest when he searched the first floor.

“Y/N?” Joel called out hearing the sound of movement when she walked into the kitchen. Advancing forward, Joel curled his fingers around the back of her neck and brought her to him bringing her in to kiss him. Grasping her face in his rough hands, he caressed over the sides of her face with his thumbs feeling her hum against his lips. “I’m so sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

“Joel,” she gasped, digging her fingers into his hair when he hooked his arms underneath her thighs to pick her up to pull her in against him. Her other arm wrapped around his shoulders so she didn’t fall when he headed toward the stairs to carry her up them.

Carrying her to the bedroom, Joel carefully laid her at the center of the bed before crawling in over her and kissed her with all the passion he could muster up. The soft sweeping of his tongue against hers drew her fingers to hook harder into his hair making her purr out into his mouth.

“You are so perfect and I care about you so much,” Joel slurred against her mouth, his hands reaching down to work open her pants making her gasp when she looked down between the two of them. “I’m so happy that nothing happened to you. I would have been lost if I woke up this morning knowing that you were no longer here.”

“Joel,” she whimpered, her hand dragging down over the side of his face while his dark eyes gazed into hers. Joel worked to get her pants down before helping her carefully get her shirt from her body. It took her breath away when she watched him pull his clothing off in a haste before laying in over her. Laying himself between her thighs, Joel nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck when he allowed the skin-to-skin contact between the two of them.

“I promise, I’m going to try to do better,” Joel whispered, peppering faint kisses against her lips before pushing his hips forward making her gasp when he entered her. Unlike the other night, this time he was taking his time to actually make love to her. Keeping his eyes locked on hers made his heart hammer inside of his chest while he took his time rolling his hips against hers time and time again. “I swear.”

Joel felt her hand palming in over the side of his face and he turned his head toward her palm to kiss over the center of it before lowering back down to kiss her again, “You are so beautiful.”

“I love you,” she whispered making Joel swallow down hard. That wasn’t something he was ready to say to her in return, but he was hoping that sometime soon he would be able to say it himself. With a weak smile, he lowered down and met her lips in a lingering kiss.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Joel breathed against her lips still wanting to take that time to focus on her to make her feel special like Ellie told him to do. “I never want to lose you. Now that you’re in my life, I never want to let you go.”

----

“Goddamn it,” there was another knock at the door and Negan let out a rumble of a groan. He was laid out on the couch, a pillow over his head in attempts to block out the light that was helping to aid in giving him a headache. All morning and afternoon people had been showing up at his house with gifts after they heard what he had done. Asking Maria to not make him a hero in the town had become unsuccessful and while he appreciated the gestures, he didn’t like being viewed as something that he didn’t feel like he was. Being the town hero was not on the list of things he thought he deserved and he hoped that by staying silent the person at his door would just go away. When the knocks continued, he huffed out loudly and stayed where he was. “The door is unlocked!”

Hearing the door push open, he didn’t even bother to move on the couch or pull the pillow from his head when he heard the person enter and close the door behind them, “If you’re leaving a gift, just put it on the kitchen table with the others. If you’re coming to steal from the house, just leave the toys. If you’re coming here to kill me, please just make it fucking fast.”

There was a silence that followed making him swallow down hard. With a jump, he felt someone stroking at the back of his good hand making him lift his head up. The pillow fell from his face and he saw that it was Y/N sitting on the ground beside the couch. A weak smile tugged at his lips when he sighed and allowed their fingers too hook when he realized it was her.

“You’re getting that many gifts, huh?” she found amusement in the way that he had responded thinking she was someone else from the town bringing him something. “You get anything good?”

“Well, I’ve gotten two pies. One pumpkin and one cherry,” Negan informed her with a bounce of his eyebrows, nodding toward the kitchen. “The two nice ladies that work at the dining hall brought them here for me. One of them either brought me tea or weed to help me. I haven’t quite made out what it is yet. When she handed me a bag of leaves, I was in too much pain to even know.”

“What?” she snorted making Negan laugh, but he immediately regretted it when the severe ache in his abdomen from his broken ribs returned.

“Yeah, so there is that. All the guys that have visited have brought me some kind of alcohol,” Negan informed her with a long rumble of a sigh, stretching out his long body on the couch that he was laying on. “With all the alcohol, I’m thinking I can save them and make some decent trades around town. Who knew people would be so willing to hand over valuable things just because I saved your life.”

“Well you’re the town hero,” she teased him, caressing her fingertips over the back of the hand that she was holding. “Maybe you deserve it.”

“I told all of them no, but they didn’t listen to me,” Negan responded with a shake of his head. “I mean the pies I’ll eat, but I’m on a shit load of pain pills right now and that doesn’t go well with alcohol. I’d have to be really desperate to mix the two.”

Leaning forward, Y/N rest her head against Negan’s side and she sighed. Negan took notice of the way she found comfort with him and he grumbled to himself, “What about you? What have you gotten?”

“Nothing,” she was honest with him, her eyes lifting to his making him let out an offended breath. “Tommy and Maria have checked on me, but other than that…”

“You’re joking,” Negan hissed, his eyes rolling when he heard that people weren’t showing her the same kind of attention they were him. “You think the world changes and it ends up being the same way it was before all of this happened.”

“You deserve the attention more than me Negan. You risked your life to save mine,” she reminded him and Negan shook his head.

“But you need to know that people still appreciate that you’re here. That they are happy you are still around,” Negan insisted and she felt her chest ache when she thought about it like that.

“I’m not sure people like me all that much. Just you,” she pointed out making Negan let out an upset breath. “Maybe they are just scared to come see me because they are afraid of Joel. Regardless, I kind of just disappear into the background. My social life is pretty much you, Tommy, Maria, Ellie and Joel.”

“I hate people,” Negan asserted, laying his head back down again while his fingers squeezed tightly to hers.

“Are you only on the couch because you can’t make it up the stairs?” she changed the subject knowing that she had been worried about him.

“I can make it up the stairs, I’m just too lazy to,” Negan joked with a tiny laugh feeling her fingers grasping tighter to his. “Tonight I’ll probably make it up there. Most likely. I need to get a shower in.”

“You can call the two nice ladies back from the dining hall to help you with a sponge bath,” she teased him making Negan let out a rumble of a laugh. “I’m sure they would enjoy that.”

“I think they would have a heart attack once they saw me naked. You have to understand, that’s only for the eyes of the strong. When you see something as beautiful and big…” Negan started to ramble making her groan out before blowing a raspberry at his abdomen. It made him snicker, but wince at the same time because of his injury. “I’m just saying. They won’t expect it to be as big as it is and…”

“God, how are my two favorite men in this world so very much alike, but also so very much different?” she stammered making Negan’s smile fade and he wiggled her hand in his before lifting it up to deposit a kiss over the back of her hand. “You’re a dork.”

“I’m a lot of things,” Negan agreed with her, adjusting the pillow that he had over his head originally and putting it underneath it. Closing his eyes, his Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and he yawned. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“My mind hasn’t let me do that a lot lately,” she declared with a simple shake of her head. “I’ve been thinking about you, a lot.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan turned his head to the side and stared out at her with a smile. “What about?”

Truthfully? That kiss and I love you. But that’s not what she was going to talk about.

“Tell me about you Negan. I think it’s time you told me why you hate yourself so damn much,” she frowned making Negan’s eyes narrow and a muscle in his jaw flexed. “You don’t want to be considered a hero. You don’t think you deserve good things in life. Why?”

“You won’t want to be around me anymore if you knew,” Negan assured her, his facial expression very serious when she shook her head. “I’m serious Y/N.”

“I don’t care about your past Negan. All I care about is who you are now,” she promised him, giving his hand a supportive squeeze. “So tell me.”

“There’s not much to say. I was a bum before this shitty world happened. I was married to my high school sweetheart. I started my life off as a jock. I was really good with sports. I was really good at what I did. Then in college I got injured and I gave up. I became a high school gym teacher and I was a dickhead with a short fuse. I got into a fight with a guy one time at a bar after he called my wife a few choice names so I beat the ever-living shit out of him. It got me arrested, it made me lose my job and I got depressed. I hated the man I became and I cheated on my wife,” Negan was honest with her making her nod her head while he sold himself completely as a worthless piece of shit. “My wife at the time found out she had cancer and I stopped. I changed my life around only for this apocalyptic hell hole to start and I took care of her. It didn’t matter though because no matter what I did I couldn’t save her. She killed herself because she didn’t want the cancer to kill her. She wanted to be in control of her own life. She did it while I was gone because she knew that I wouldn’t be able to deal with it.”

“Shit,” she watched Negan pull himself up a bit so he could sit while she continued to hold onto his hand. “Then I became an even bigger, shittier miserable asshole. I hopped from group to group where people kept dying until I found one that needed a leader and I made myself their leader. I became a huge piece of shit. I hurt people. Just for the hell of it. I took their supplies. I did awful things.”

“We all do questionable things in order to survive,” Y/N suggested making Negan’s eyes tear over and he shook his head slowly. “You’re more like Joel than you think.”

“I doubt it,” Negan half laughed, lifting his head enough to show the scar that was barely visible over his neck, but it was still there. “A guy I was fighting with at the time cut my throat because of what I had done. I lived and they put me in a jail cell in someone’s basement for about seven years. When I finally left, I met another woman that saved me. We got close and she ended up pregnant with my baby. And uhm…well, she died when trying to give birth to our child.”

“Negan…” she felt her heart drop seeing the way that his hazel eyes teared over while he spoke about his past. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Tell you what Y/N? That I lost people?” Negan questioned and shook his head. “We all lost people. Joel lost his daughter. You lost your family. It doesn’t make my sob story any worse than anyone else’s. I was an asshole at the beginning of this shit storm and I feel like the world was paying me back for the things that I had done.”

“And your baby?” she saw Negan’s bottom lip tremoring while he laid stretched out before her, his eyebrows furrowing when the sound of another knock was heard on the door.

“No one’s home,” Negan called out only to hear the door being pushed open and he groaned out. Popping their head inside, Negan saw that it was Maria and grumbled to himself as she entered his home and closed the door behind her. “Speak of the devil.”

“Oh yeah, that’s me,” Maria looked between the two of them with a container of something in her hands. ‘I wanted to come in and check on you Negan.”

“I’m surviving,” Negan answered seeing the way that Maria looked down to his hand that was holding onto Y/N’s while they sat and were talking together. Trying to push back his emotions, he knew that Maria saw he was emotional and he shrugged. “I’m horrible with pain. I cry like a baby when I’m in pain.”

“I see,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing while she looked them over. Y/N picked up on the fact that she was staring, but she didn’t pull her hand away which surprised Negan. This was the wife of Joel’s brother, but she seemed confident that it was okay to be holding Negan’s hand. “I’m glad you both are here. I grabbed some homemade soup from the dining hall. I thought you might want some. It’s nice and warm. It should help with getting you to relax and that way you don’t have to make yourself food.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you Maria, my ribs hurt too much to even swallow,” Negan informed Maria with a grumble making her shrug. “You know, I asked you not to tell everyone that I was a hero. Yet today I’m getting gifts galore.”

“Most people don’t complain when they receive things for free,” Maria reminded Negan stepping further into the house to look at the table where she found the things that he was given. “Plus, I didn’t tell anyone. Word travels fast you know. In a town of a little over three hundred people, people hear things.”

With a grunt, Negan watched Maria disappear into his kitchen and he sighed, turning his head to Y/N, “The people in this town have no problem walking into your house and walking around. I know it’s a different world, but it still takes some time getting used to.”

“That’s because we trust everyone here,” Maria called out from the kitchen from where she obviously heard Negan. It made Y/N smile and tip her head down. After a minute, Maria stepped out into the living room and sighed. “Which do you like better? Pumpkin or cherry?”

“I don’t care. Pie is pie,” Negan answered watching Maria disappear into his kitchen. The sound of dishes being set up were heard before Maria came out into the living room with them.

“Let’s get him up,” Maria suggested making Negan groan and pull his hand up to make them wait. “You’re on a lot of pain medication and you need to eat.”

“Yes ma’am, but I’m going to feel like an asshole if I make the two of you pick me up,” Negan insisted, carefully pulling himself up into a seated position on the couch. It took him time before he was able to stand up to his feet. Both Y/N and Maria still helped him toward the kitchen and Maria held a chair out for him at the table where she had already cut a piece of pie for the both of them and gotten soup out for them. “Thank you, Maria.”

“You got it,” Maria moved around Negan to squeeze at his shoulders in a soft grab. “I’ll stop by every so often to check to see if you need something.”

“You’re not going to eat with us? I have enough pie,” Negan pointed toward the table, letting out a huff when he noticed that Maria cleaned up the gifts he had been given so that they were tidy and in order. “At least have a piece of pie with us.”

“I have to get back to the baby,” Maria explained with a loud sigh looking between the two of them. “But I’ll take a raincheck on the pie. I promise we’ll do something else.”

Maria moved around the table and reached her arms out to give Y/N a hug, “It was good to see you, Maria.”

“I’m glad to see you up and moving around,” Maria gave Y/N a big smile before heading back toward the door. “I’ll see both of you later.”

Hearing the sound of the door closing, Negan watched Y/N slowly take a seat at the side of the table where Maria had set up a spot for her, “You know, if she knew about my past, she wouldn’t want me here. She thinks I’m a good man. You’re the only one here that knows I’m not.”

“I think you’re still a good man,” Y/N stretched out her hand, placing it in over Negan’s left that was braced over the table. Stroking her fingers over the back of it, she shook her head and sighed. “You acknowledge you’re wrong and you have tried to change. I see good in you.”

Negan simply nodded and swallowed down hard. It was obvious he was still emotional from what they were talking about before Maria showed up and she sighed, “I have to be honest with you about something.”

“Yeah?” Negan cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“You’re a better cook and baker than ninety percent of the people here,” Y/N informed Negan with a weak smirk making Negan laugh before nodding his head. “I have tasted your food and I’ve tasted theirs. I can say that no one is quite like you.”

“I had a lot of time to learn to cook,” Negan knew that he had brought her a lot of things he had made from home to work on the days that they shared lunch together. “I guess this is where it’s my time to be honest with you. I am right-handed and I’m going to look ridiculous trying to eat with my left. So please don’t make fun of me.”

“I would never,” she assured him with a smirk watching him attempt to eat his soup with his left hand. “You’re not used to being helpless, are you?”

“I hate it,” Negan grumbled after swallowing down a spoonful of his soup. “The doctor told me that I need to wear the sling for a few days, but I’m not allowed to use the arm for two weeks and that my injury might take twelve to sixteen weeks for it to heal completely since I’m older. As far as my ribs, the doc said that should heal on its own in about six weeks, but I’m not allowed to be super active. I’m not a very lazy person.”

“I’m sure Maria will be able to find things for you to do while you are on break,” Y/N was eating her soup with Negan and for the most part they were quiet. She was wondering if Negan would ever bring up the kisses from the night before. At this point he wasn’t even acting like it happened. Maybe that was a good thing, especially after how Joel had been acting this morning. “I think me almost dying made Joel…change.”

“Good, it’s about time that he did,” Negan grumbled taking another bite of the soup that Maria had brought them. “I hope he sticks with it now. You’re a fucking unicorn. One in a million and he needs to treat you as such.”

“That is so weird that you called me that,” she snickered making his eyebrows bounce up when he gazed out at her. “I was obsessed with unicorns when I was a child. I no shit had this onesie that I used to run around in when I was a kid that was a unicorn. It was white with like pink and purple hooves.”

“Now I’m picturing you in that outfit right now,” Negan joked, his nose wrinkling in amusement and he shrugged his shoulders. “I think you’d make the cutest little unicorn.”

“Now you’re making fun of me,” she felt her cheeks flushing overhearing his deep rumble of laughter when she rolled her eyes and went back to eating. “I thought they were real Negan. I was deep in it. When school asked me to do a project on my favorite animal when I was a kid, I did the unicorn. Imagine how disappointed I was when they broke it to me that they weren’t real.”

“Well fuck them for taking away a child’s imagination,” Negan grumbled finishing up his soup before reaching for the pie that he was given. “Unicorns still exist. I would know because you’re one of them.”

“Stop,” she chuckled pushing at the soup that she still had left in her bowl.

“Hey, I wasn’t even a child and I wore a grumpy bear onesie for a while. My first wife got it for me as a joke and to be honest with ya, it was so comfortable I would wear it around sometimes,” Negan informed her enjoying the smile that he got out of her when he told her that. “We should find your boyfriend one. It would suit him very well.”

“You are going to get punched if you keep it up with that whole Mr. Grumpy Pants thing,” she warned him making Negan chuckle and bob his head about. “I swear, he can only take so much because he is…well, he’s…”

“Grumpy,” Negan finished hearing her laugh out before covering her mouth. “You love him, but he is grumpy as shit. We both know it.”

“He is a little grumpy,” she agreed with Negan seeing him wink before taking a bite of the pie that was on his plate. His nose wrinkled when he swallowed down the bite and sighed. “Yeah, maybe they should let me help make the food here because these ladies aren’t...great with their pies.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Y/N ate the rest of her lunch and when Negan got up to put away the plates that he could carry with his left, she heard him yelp out when he reached the sink and it made her jump up. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I stepped on a goddamn Lego. I hate those fucking things,” Negan looked down and huffed out making her laugh at his answer. “That shit ain’t funny Y/N. I would rather break my ribs and dislocate my shoulder than step on these fucking things. They hurt.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she got up from the table and moved around the counter to see the Lego that was on the floor that he had stepped on with his bare feet. Reaching down, she picked it up and set it on the counter. Her eyes fell to the Lego set that was there noticing that it was a Star Wars themed toy. Reaching for it, she picked it up and held it out to him. “You a big Star Wars fan?”

“Oh, we’re huge Star Wars fans in this house,” Negan explained with a wink before going back to do his best with the dishes that he had with his one hand. “Be careful with that. My ass will get kicked if that gets broken. We worked on that sucker forever. I traded well for that one.”

“Leather jacket wearing, video gamer that likes comics and Star Wars. Gets along well with kids and is a former schoolteacher,” Y/N repeated everything she had learned about Negan recently. “I’ve learned more about you in the last week than I have in my whole time knowing you. How is that Negan? You talk a ton.”

“Ah yes, but I don’t talk about myself and shit,” Negan waved his hand about when he turned and leaned back against the counter. It made her feel bad seeing Negan like he was with the sling on his arm and in pain. His face looked sore and he looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m better to talk to anyways. Plus, you may be a little self-absorbed.”

“What?” she blurt out hearing the wicked laugh that followed. “Am I?”

“Sometimes, but aren’t we all? I was so fucking arrogant for most of my life. I think I just got sick of it. So don’t think I’m judging you because anything you are, I was so much worse in my past,” Negan placed his good hand to his chest and he could see that she was embarrassed. “Hey, don’t let it bother you. Everything is fine.”

“I should know you better than I do,” she explained making Negan shrug and reach up to brush his fingers through his messy hair. “I just know that I like the person that you are. You’re my best friend and I need to start getting to know you better.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan smirked, his hazel eyes having the light from his window reflecting in them. “We’re working on it.”

“Have you iced your ribs yet today?” she mentioned making Negan smirk before shaking his head. “Well, then let’s get you some ice on those ribs.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan repeated knowing that she had seen the old-fashioned ice pack they had given him. Watching her fill it, Negan cleared his throat and shook his head. “You don’t have to take care of me you know.”

“I know,” she muttered, reaching to help him walk back into the living room. Helping him lay down, she placed the ice pack in place and heard him gasp. It made her smirk when Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered up at her. Brushing her fingers through his dark hair, she shrugged and looked to the door. “I should let you get some rest. Is there anything you need me to do for you before I leave?”

“Can you get rid of a headache?” Negan quipped making her nod. “I was kidding.”

“You have a washcloth around here?” she saw Negan’s eyes narrow and he nodded pointing toward the hallway.

“Linen closet in the bathroom. First door on the right,” Negan answered, closing his eyes while he laid down and waited. Hearing her footsteps, Negan smirked until he gasped when he felt a damp warmth covering his eyes and forehead. Y/N had obviously gotten a washcloth wet with warm water for him and it made him snort. “What the hell?”

“It helps,” she reached out to squeeze her hand in over his. “Get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” Negan gave her hand a final squeeze before feeling her pulling away. Listening to the sound of her footsteps leaving, he sighed and got more comfortable. After a few minutes he could hear someone at his door again. This time they didn’t knock and he heard the door being pushed open. “I really need to sleep so…”

Tensing up, Negan felt someone moving in beside him and with the washcloth over his eyes he couldn’t see who was touching him. Flinching, he felt the soft, tender sweep of fingers over his jawline, “Relax…”

With a shuddering breath, Negan heard Y/N’s voice surround him and he felt his body calming down knowing that it was her. His lips parted when he felt the pad of her thumb stroking over his bottom lip. He didn’t move so the cloth remained over his eyes and he felt the warmth of her lips hovering over his. With ease, her lips covered his surprising him. The kiss lingered and he knew that he shouldn’t have, but he kissed her back. Each caress of her lips over his felt enhanced without the sense of sight for him. Their breathing got louder when the kiss grew in strength. A growl fell deep within his throat when her tongue flicked at the inside of his bottom lip drawing out sensations from him that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

Brushing his tongue against hers, Negan felt her suck faintly at his tongue making him hum in response. With one final kiss, Negan felt her pull away just slightly. Her lips were lingering over his making him take in a sharp breath.

“You’re dreaming,” she whispered the same thing he did the night before. Another faint kiss was pressed over his lips making a muscle in the corner of his jaw flex. “When you wake up, you’ll realize this wasn’t real.”

With a nod, Negan felt his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when her fingertips traced over the side of his face and through his short beard, “Just know Negan, if things were different, I would have no problem falling in love with you. You’re an incredible man.”

Negan’s lips parted and he felt like he wanted to say something, but he knew he shouldn’t when he heard a loud exhale fall from her lips, “That’s the last dream kiss. I promise. Enjoy your rest Negan.”

Not saying anything, Negan heard her get up and he stayed still. When she left and he heard the door close behind her, he let out an exaggerated sound. Reaching up with his good hand, he pulled the cloth from over his eyes and set it on his chest. Dragging his thumb out over his bottom lip, he felt his heart skip a beat knowing that he still tasted her against his lips.

“Shit,” Negan huffed knowing that he had avoided last night as much as he possibly could, but now having her kiss him like this a second time made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t. And her kissing him again, it sure as hell wasn’t helping.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @insertneganhere @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @nt-multi-fandom @tone-stark @chloepricerk800 @thesapphirequeen @wonwoosthetic

#Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller #Negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Walking Dead #The Last of Us #Joel Miller x reader #Negan x reader #twd fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #Joel Miller fanfiction #Negan fanfiction

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pisupsala · 1 year

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One for The History Books [Chapter 21] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 10.3k

[Library]

Chapter 21 - Landfall

“You know we don’t have to open it tonight, right?” You’ve noticed Bradley has been eyeing the box with a sort of nervous apprehension—his eyes flicking back and forth while you eat, still seated on the floor.

It feels like that’s the best place with zero pretense instead of sitting on the sofa, or god forbid across from each other at the table. “It can always wait.”

That’s not to say you are not dying to know what’s in the box and why Bradley brought it. But you shouldn’t push it—especially not today. Everything still feels raw, precarious almost.

But still, Bradley took the massive first step in trying to fix the situation between you, and give you what you had been asking for him. Pushing him more right now wouldn’t be fair.

It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed. Bradley kept his suffering locked away for so long, and carried the burden of his traumas by himself while directing you away from it. Now he’s made the conscious decision to let you in.

All you can really do now is listen to him and support him in the way that he needs you to. And no matter how hard it might be for you, that also means backing off sometimes.

Bradley shakes his head in response. “I want to,” He looks at you with those warm dark eyes, still full of pain. “Because I want to make sure there’s not a doubt left in your mind that I’m giving every part of me to you before I leave.”

You can’t help but blush under his intense gaze.

“You’re really all or nothing, aren’t you?” You smile before turning serious. “But Bradley, I don’t want you to hurt yourself on my account like that. I don’t want you to tear yourself apart because you think this needs to be fixed completely, like, right now.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, you add: “I don’t doubt you. And I’ll be here when you come back, waiting for you. And the box will be here too.”

“I don’t want to lose my nerve.” Bradley admits sighing lightly. You sit in silence for a moment, contemplating.

“Then, let’s do it.” You conclude, smiling up at Bradley. “Let's get rid of the pizza boxes first, though. Do you want another beer?”

“Are you sure you’re done?” Bradley looks at you somewhat skeptically as you get up from the floor. “You ate less than half of your pizza.”

“Oh, yeah—I’m pretty full.” You shrug.

Truth is, as that pizza was the first big meal you’ve had in about a week, the three odd slices you had made you feel overly full. You only started feeling hungry after the enormous dark pit in your stomach finally dissolved—because this is not the end. This is a challenge you need to overcome. And together you will.

“Are you okay?” Bradley’s words are pointed, not accusatory in any way, but worried. “We haven’t really talked about—well, my week was absolute shit.”

You chuckle humorlessly. “Well… same here.”

Obviously, you hadn’t been okay. At all. Like, Bradley is probably too much of a gentleman to say anything, but between the bruise, bags under your eyes, messy hair, and pallid skin, you look at least partially as shitty as you’ve been feeling.

You pushed yourself through the days at work, numbed by a near-constant stream of music, podcasts, and movies, collapsing in your bed the moment you came home, exhausted beyond belief. Yeah, it sure as shit didn’t help you could barely keep anything down, the corrosive feeling in your stomach pretty much locking you up from the inside.

“But I’m okay now.” You assure Bradley with a small smile, before adding teasingly: “If you give me a kiss, I’ll feel even better, actually.”

You lean in, bending at the waist and resting your hands on Bradley’s broad shoulders for stability. With a playful grin, he obliges you, pressing his lips against yours.

“It’s making me feel better, too.” He murmurs against your mouth softly. You squeeze, feeling Bradley’s muscles move under your fingers. You’ve missed him so much, but your kisses don’t go any further than that. You can feel his hesitancy—he’s not done with his bloodletting yet.

He still thinks there is a chance you won’t want him anymore. It’s pretty clear to you that this is just as much for himself as he says it’s for you. He needs to confront his past to start making his own peace with it; only then can he move past it.

And you will let him take the lead as long as you keep going forward, supporting him every step of the way.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You good, babe?” You half-whisper, eyes closed, reveling in his proximity.

“Much better, darlin’.” Bradley murmurs back, his voice deep and rough. It sends a jolt down your spine.

Not the time.

Putting the pizza boxes in the kitchen and grabbing two more beers, you sit back down on the floor next to Bradley. He’s fidgeting, peeling the label off his nearly empty drink.

You pop the new bottles open, offering him one. In a single swig, he empties the beer he had been nervously handling, setting it back on the small coffee table off the side before accepting the new bottle.

Reaching out, he pulls the box closer so it sits just between both your legs. His hand rests on the lid for a moment.

“Do you want to open it?” You quirk your eyebrow at Bradley’s sudden request. Gently putting your hand over his, you shake your head with a ghost of a smile on your lips.

Your instinct keeps telling you to help him, ease his discomfort, and carry the brunt of the situation because you know you’ll be able to handle it. You would do anything to lighten his burden, but some things are not up to you. You understand now this is not one of them. There’s no need to tell him—he knows—he needs to do this.

As Bradley slides off the lid, you can’t help but lean forward to get a good look at the contents of the box. The entirety is messily filled to the brim with pictures and what looks like albums. Some seem to be thrown in haphazardly on top of the rest, edges bent and damaged from being jostled.

“Oh…” The sound escapes you involuntarily as you realize what’s on the pictures. They are family pictures. Bradley’s family. Your heart clenches for a second—Bradley really took your words to heart.

“It’s ehm-,” Bradley hesitates for a moment, clearing his throat, searching for words. “These are all the pictures I have left from my family.”

Your head snaps to look at him—Bradley is looking forlornly at the pile of pictures, fingers tracing one that is on top before grabbing it. He studies it for a second, and then wordlessly shows it to you. Your eyes flicker over the picture before returning to his face.

“I don’t really—I have no idea what to do with this.” He admits with a deep sigh. “I wanted to show you, but now that I opened it…” Bradley trails off.

“Is that you with your little league team?” You smile up at him kindly, pointing at the picture in his hand. “Where was that taken?”

You gently guide his hand closer to you both, so you can look at the photo better. There’s a gaggle of kids in the picture, all still very young in cute and messy little baseball uniforms.

“I - I think that’s still back in San Diego.” He starts hesitantly. “I think I was too young for little league there, that must be something like the local tee ball team.”

“Which one are you? — Wait, don’t tell me. I want to see if I can guess.”

Having faced a myriad of difficult decisions and situations in his life, Bradley didn’t think he’d view opening a box of old pictures as such a hurdle. His heart is beating loudly, and he has to consciously keep his hands steady.

He hasn’t really thought it through, and he hadn’t really prepared—he barely remembered what was in the box, or what state it was in. What was he actually going to do with this?

Somewhere, having to go through those pictures was always going to happen, but he’s been putting it off for so many years now that he can barely believe the moment is here.

But for one thing, he knows he can rely on you. Your kindness, your empathy. Your love. You wouldn’t let him struggle through this by himself. Like now. With gentle questions, you steer his thoughts away from anxiety and focus on the small things.

You keep guessing wrong which kid he could be, picking ones that have darker hair. Not being able to keep a small grin off his face, he points to the small and skinny kid squinting against the sun in the second row.

“No.” You look at him with comical disbelief. “You were not that blond as a child.”

You scoot closer to him as you bring his hand with the picture up to your face.

“That’s a trick of the light though, isn’t it?”

“Nope. Wait, I’m sure there’s more in here.” Bradley grins despite himself. “I think there might be a whole baby album.”

“Well, I for sure need to see that.”

Bradley leans forward, casually rifling through the pictures at the top of the box. Not being able to stop yourself, you spring up to stop him.

“Bradley, the pictures will get damaged like that.” You admonish him mildly as you carefully pick them up one by one and setting them aside. “Your memories deserve to be handled with care, don’t you think?”

“You’re right.” He concedes as he feels his heart do a strange little jump. It’s almost painful, but it gives Bradley a strange feeling of elation. Back when he was moving around a lot from his childhood home to college, to boot camp to his first station, he simply consolidated all pictures into this box without much thought.

And here you are, carefully picking every picture up and arranging them in neat little piles on the floor next to the box. The gentleness of the gesture feels deeply intimate. Like you give every snapshot of his life a little bit of attention as you handle it with so much respect. Kindness. Love.

A kind of mercy he hasn’t allowed himself in all these years.

Much more carefully, he pulls out the baby blue album. His baby album. In all these years, he didn’t think he’d actually be looking through that again. That’s a thing for moms to do, right? Show every embarrassing childhood picture to your girlfriend and tell them every awful story.

For a second, Bradley thinks about Mav - he knows so many stories. He was there for them for all those years. As were many others that flew with his dad, although not as much.

In the end, Mav was there for more stories of them than his own dad was. His mom was there for all of them—well, almost all of them. Some teenage mistakes Bradley would rather take to the grave, and would be more than happy if Mav did too.

Throwing up riding on the back of Mav’s motorcycle when he got too drunk for the first at a house party at the age of 15 would be one of those. Mav had laughed at him so hard, Bradley was sure would never live that one down. In all fairness, he never told Bradley’s mom what happened. He just got Bradley home.

Bradley leafs through the baby album, your chin on his shoulder, loving the little notes his mom made. The first plate of spaghetti (it was a massacre), the first time on a swing (never wanted to get off), first day at preschool on base (many tears), on the pier waiting for daddy to come home.

“You look so annoyed there.” You chuckle, pointing at the picture of a 3-year-old Bradley holding a scrunched-up welcome home sign in his little fists, barely dried tears staining his rosy cheeks.

“Oh man.” Bradley laughs lightly. “All I remember from that is we just stood there on the pier—it took forever, and it was so hot that day.”

He pauses, trying to remember.

“I begged for an ice cream and my mom would tell me it’s a little bit longer; we had to wait for dad.” He reminisces. “That must have been the longest carrier docking in all history.”

You giggle, thinking back to the past summer. Waiting for the carrier to dock and the sailors to disembark was tortuous under the summer sun for you, let alone for a small child.

“The next time I remember waiting like that…” Bradley trails off, suddenly deep in thought. “My dad never walked off the carrier.”

You hold your breath for a second.

“Only Mav came back.” Bradley swallows. “I could barely understand why we were there. Why we were leaving without dad.”

“That must have been really hard.”

“I mean—I don’t know… I was so young, it took me a while to comprehend my dad really wasn’t coming back.” Bradley has a pensive look on his face, as he stares at the far end of the room rather than at the album in his hands. “I remember much more vividly suddenly having to move out of our house, going out of state, living in a smaller place just together with my mom.”

“How old were you?”

“Barely four. I think?” He shifts uncomfortably. It was easy to talk about the light stuff, although it always inevitably leads to dark memories. His dad not coming home, his mom always crying, moving away. Exactly the things he doesn’t like thinking about.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You supply sincerely. God, his dad died so young.

“‘S okay” Bradley mumbles.

“Is that why you never wanted me to wait for you at the pier?” You inquire carefully, remembering Bradley’s exact argument of it being too hot and too boring.

“Yeah, no—a bit, I guess. But, no one had ever been waiting for me, you know?” He leans his forehead against the heel of his hand. “I went through all those rites of passage in the Navy by myself, just me. I thought I was fine with that.”

You regard him carefully as he still stares ahead, but you’re not sure he actually sees anything.

“I mean, none of my friends or girlfriends ever came. Sure as shit never invited them.” He just drops that casually into the conversation as you feel your eyebrows pull into a slight frown. “I guess none of them were tenacious enough,”

His eyes finally meet yours as he grins.

“Or pigheaded enough to just go find everything out and show up.”

You scoff lightly, a grin pulling at the side of your mouth. “You say that as if you didn’t want me to be there.”

“No, no, darlin'—I fucking loved it.”

“Do you think you are that undeserving?” Your question cuts sharply through the conversation.

“What do you mean?”

“You say I was pigheaded for showing up, but you were just as pigheaded for not inviting me—or anyone for that matter.” You cock an eyebrow. “So don’t you think you deserve anyone to wait for you?”

Bradley sighs heavily.

“I suppose—I guess because there might be a day I don’t walk off that ramp, and I thought it would be easier if no one is waiting.”

“You believe that to be the inevitable outcome?” You intone mildly.

“No, no—I just…” You can tell by his manner, Bradley is getting frustrated.

You’re digging.

Back off.

Let him take the lead.

“I’ll wait for you here at home or on the pier—wherever you want me to be.” You sooth.

“I’m sorry.” Bradley apologizes softly. “I don’t mean to be so dark about it.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” You reply. “We don’t have to talk about it now. We have plenty of your pictures to go through.” You joke lightly, before adding more solemnly: “And we’re here for each other. That matters.”

“That’s all that matters” Bradley replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a few moments of silence, you look through the next pages of the album. Bradley’s mom’s neat script shortly commentates every milestone. She clearly took a lot of care in making the album and took pictures prolifically.

Back then—before the age of video calls and digital photography—you suppose it was the only way to document everything that had been happening at home while Bradley’s dad was away.

“Your mom is so pretty.” You lightly trace the edge of the photo, adding: “I can see where you got your looks from.”

Bradley chuckles in response. “You should see my dad—wait -” He leans forward to grab another album from the box. As he lifts it out, pictures slide from the pages, falling out of the bottom. You quickly sit up, helping Bradley tilt the album on its side, so the pictures top falling.

“For fuck’s sake.” He sighs, annoyed.

You pluck the pictures that fell out of the box. They are wedding pictures of Bradley’s parents—they look resplendent, both dressed in white, smiling broadly. They are an incredibly good-looking couple. It strikes you how much Bradley looks like his dad—tall, generous smile, and of course the mustache. He looks dashing in his Navy whites, the same way Bradley does.

“You really look a lot like your dad.” You say pensively. “But I definitely see your mom in you too.”

“Mav used to tell me how much I resembled my dad when I was growing up.” Bradley carefully cracks open the album to straighten some loose photos. “I always took a lot of pride in that. Recently, he mentioned my temper is definitely my mom’s.” He chuckles dryly.

Carefully, you tuck one of the photos that fell out between the empty page. “Do you agree?”

“My mom…she—she always kept up a brave face.” Bradley shrugs somewhat uncomfortably. “She would never get really mad or sad, even though… she was. She would always hide it from me.” He slowly leaves through the album, eyes running over the pictures of the happy couple. “All the way to the end.”

Bradley pauses for a moment, as you tuck the other picture that fell out on another empty page.

“I overheard my mom and Mav have an absolute blow-up argument at the hospital. That was months before she passed away— I’ve never heard her so angry, like, screaming at each other. They stopped arguing the moment I walked into the room.”

“I was nearly 18, not really a kid anymore, but mom never told me what they argued about. And even then, she would only cry when she thought I couldn’t hear.”

“It sounds like she was trying to protect you.” You supply kindly.

“I think she bottled everything up to the point of explosion.” Bradley sounds distant. “I guess I’m kind of the same way.”

“I still think…” Bradley swallows before continuing. “I believe that she never really got over my dad’s death. Mom would look at these pictures every day in the hospital, and I think she bottled up all her grief for so many years, it broke her heart for good.”

“I’m sorry, that’s really sad.” You say softly.

“I try not to think about it too much.” Bradley shrugs again, in a slightly more agitated manner. “It just makes me think about how she spent all those years grieving by herself and I couldn’t help her… was she ever happy again?”

There’s no answer to that question.

“I think you can be happy about things even when still feeling the loss, because it’ll always kind of be there, right?” You begin slowly. “And our mom still had you. From what I hear, she clearly loved you a lot, going to great lengths to protect you from her pain. Maybe your happiness became her happiness.”

“I hope it did.” Bradley sighs. Every page turned, every picture finally uncovered again, is like the weight is slowly rolling off him. Bottling up hurts. And it hurt for so long, the pain became a constant background noise. You’re right, he’s had moments of happiness despite the pain. Becoming a pilot despite the odds. Making it to TOPGUN. Surviving that mission. He’s been happy with you.

It’s mostly in hindsight that he’s aware of the grief he still has in him at every moment. Bottled up. Closing the wedding album, he traces his fingers over the cover. It’s a matter of perspective.

Ironically, he pushed the happiest memories into a dark corner—literally in the back of his closet—never looking it at them because he couldn’t separate the happiness from the grief. And maybe, they don’t need separating. You’re right, the loss will always be there, but that doesn’t mean the happiness of those moments disappears.

Ultimately, Bradley is becoming more and more sure of one thing. He couldn’t do this without you. He wouldn’t want to do this without you. Putting away the album, he wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you against him. You easily accept his gesture and lean into the hug, putting your arms around him.

Bradley realizes that today is the first time in many years he allowed himself to reach out to someone for comfort emotionally and physically and that it was so readily given to him. Finally, the ever-present pain seems to dull.

“Thank you for sharing all this with me.” You whisper against his neck.

“It feels right.” He admits. “Things just feel right with you.”

You can’t help but smile as press yourself into Bradley. You’ve struggled with how… right things feel with Bradley. Always aware with the looming of darkness in the back of your head that this thing might not be more than a blip on the radar. Just a temporary madness.

Like a knot being pulled loose, a new calmness anchors itself in you. It feels right. You can finally, unequivocally accept that.

Slowly untangling from each other, you talk about look through one of the pile of pictures. Bradley laughs as he talks about breaking his nose during a training game in middle school baseball after a pitcher from the opposing team nailed him in the face as he was batting. Convinced he did it on purpose, Bradley waited for him after the game and started a fight. Getting a black eye and detention to boot, he elected to call Mav to pick him up and go to the hospital, too embarrassed to call his mom.

“God, that dude was massive—had at least 50 pounds on me. I have no idea what I was thinking.” Bradley rubs his hand over his eyes, still laughing.

“What did Mitchell say about it?” You ask, laughing too.

“Mercifully very little—all he told me was to get my temper in check or to get stronger and learn how to fight better.” Bradley grins as he rummages through the box.

“Solid advice.” You drawl sarcastically. Although you haven’t worked with Mitchell much directly, you’ve seen plenty of him in action and his unorthodox method of leadership. You are not at all surprised he would tell a 12-year-old that.

Bradley suddenly stills as his hand comes upon an object of smooth wood. He tries to keep his breathing even - fuck.

He forgot this was in here.

You notice the sudden shift in Bradley’s demeanor, his hand half-hovering in the box, clutching an oddly shaped box. The moment you catch a glimpse of the dark polished walnut, the realization strikes you. It’s a display case with his father’s funeral flag and medals. Judging from Bradley’s reaction, it’s not a pleasant find.

“I - I -” The words are dying in Bradley’s throat. When he turns to you, you see the panic in his eyes. Carefully, you reach out to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. You don’t speak, leaving Bradley space to sort his thoughts and emotions.

He pulls out the display case, weighing in his hands hesitantly. He sits in silence, looking at the neatly folded flag behind the glass. Bradley swallows heavily, like he wants to say something, but the words won’t come. You rub your hand in soothing circles over his shoulder. You bite your lip to stop yourself from speaking. He needs this.

“My dad was Mav’s RIO.” Bradley’s voice is so soft, so broken, you would have missed his words if you had not been looking at him. “He died ejecting from their aircraft over the ocean.”

You move closer to Bradley.

“He just didn’t walk off the boat one day.” His fingers run over the wooden sides of the frame. “And I barely remember.”

Bradley pauses to steady himself.

“I don’t know where the stories from my mom and Mav start and my own memories end—like playing the piano. I know my dad used to teach me simple tunes, but I…” He trails off for a moment. “But I remember the piano gathering dust for several years a lot more, and my mom crying when I started taking lessons.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Bradley blink rapidly.

“You know…,” You lick your lips nervously, trying to choose your words with care. It kills you to see him like this. “Memories are just one aspect of remembering. We remember through our actions too.” You turn to look at Bradley. His eyes are wet, as he stubbornly stares at the display case.

“Whether it’s through telling those stories, pictures, or playing the piano,” You continue, voice gentle. “That’s how you keep memories alive.”

Bradley doesn’t reply, eyes still trained of the blue and white of the folded flag, fingers twitching.

In a sudden move, he pulls you against him, practically dragging you from your spot next to him into his lap. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck. His fingers are digging into your flesh as he seems hell-bent on crushing you into him.

You let him.

You run your fingernails through the short hair on the back of his head comfortingly. Bradley is taking shaky breaths, his shoulders jerking lightly..

He can’t remember the last time he cried. Was it as his mom’s funeral? Or some time when he got way too drunk after boot camp? But now he can’t seem to stop himself. The tears just keep coming, like all the pain is suddenly fresh again.

You don’t say anything, and Bradley appreciates that. He presses himself into you like he wants to drown himself in you, trying to focus on your soft breathing to calm himself down.

You have no words to help Bradley feel better, but sometimes it’s not necessary to speak to offer comfort. So you sit like that together on the floor, wrapped up in each other. Time could have been standing still all around you, and you wouldn’t have noticed.

Eventually, slowly, Bradley’s breathing evens out. It’s like the atmosphere evens out with it—the final slivers of tension, the precarious balance of emotions and rawness in your hearts— start dissolving around you, leaving only love.

Bradley presses a kiss against your jaw and whispers a thank you.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, babe.” You chuckle, hugging him a bit tighter against you.

“I’m thankful for you.” He replies sincerely, pressing more kisses against the column of your neck. You pull away a fraction to capture his lips with yours. Lightly biting down on his bottom lip, finally, he tilts his head in such a way that lets you deepen the kiss. You can’t even describe how much you need this: to feel Bradley again.

Gracelessly, you try to get up while guiding Bradley up with you without breaking the kiss. It’s a mess of limbs and hurried movements. You stumble as your foot gives out from under you, nearly falling onto the sofa. Bradley easily catches you.

“Fuck - my foot is asleep.” You wince as the pins and needles shoot up your ankle.

Bradley laughs. Light dances in his eyes as he hoists you up, legs wrapped around his waist. Seeing him like this makes your heart soar.

“Don’t let go of me.” He warns you, still smiling.

“I can’t.” You echo. “I don’t think I ever can.”

With practiced ease, Bradley steers you both to the bedroom. You’ve spent the evening in the past and you need to get back to the present to ground yourself in each other.

The bedroom is a mess; sheets crumpled, pillows strewn around the bed. But neither of you cares. Bradley gently lays you down on the bed, your legs still hooked around his hips while he rests one knee on the mattress for stability.

His hands run up your sides, bunching up the silk of your blouse. Your breathing gets heavier as you feel his large warm hands through the fabric. Your fingers dance up his forearms, past his elbows, over the rippling muscles of his upper arms, pulling yourself up by his shoulders as you sit up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Gently grabbing one of your wrists, Bradley slowly lays you back down.

“Let me take care of you now, darlin’.” He practically purrs. A giggle escapes you as his lips latch onto the column of your throat, his thumb running over the erratic pulse point on your wrist.

You sigh as you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel even more. Bradley’s free hand is deftly undoing the buttons of your self-proclaimed armor. Arching your back off the mattress, brushing your bra-clad breasts against his chest, the silk shimmies off your body.

Momentarily leaning back, Bradley easily shrugs off his own shirt as you pull your arms from the sleeves—both garments end up somewhere in the dark of the room. Not missing a beat, you trail kisses up his broad chest towards his neck. Lightly biting down on Bradley’s collarbone, he hisses. You love that sound.

Fingers brushing down his stomach, you feel his muscles move under your feather-light touch as you reach the waistband of his jeans. Before you can do anything else, Bradley swipes your hands away, smoothly bringing them over your head and pinning them down.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your lips, free hand undoing the button of your slacks, and slipping into your panties. “I’ll take care of you.”

You moan in response. Bradley wastes no time running his fingers up your slit, rubbing your clit at a tortuously slow pace. He knows your body almost as well as you do yourself; keenly feeling when to speed up, add pressure, mapping out every sensitive spot.

Your hands twitch, but Bradley doesn’t yield his grasp on your wrists. His lips travel down from your jaw, over your throat, nipping on your collarbone, down to the lace edge of your bra. The sensation of his hot breath through the thin fabric makes your head spin. You arch your back, trying desperately to maximize contact.

“Plea- please.” You beg in a whisper. Bradley just grins as he gently nips at the flesh of your breast. He has a need a regain control, a push to assure you, but mostly himself, that despite your relationship fundamentally changing with new emotional depths he never explored with anyone like that before, he is still him.

He plunges two fingers into you, his thumb on your clit finally speeding up. Bradley leans back up just a little, hearing you whimper at the loss of contact, so he can take a good look as your body moves under him—hair mussed, blush spreading down your chest, breathing heavily as you buck up against his hand.

Fuck, you look so good, you feel so good.

And you’re like that just for him.

Your eyes search Bradley's—pupils blown, dark with desire, a light blush dusts his cheeks—they are filled with warmth. Love. You tilt your hips up, muscles taut, as the pressure starts building in you. Bradley immediately responds to you without needing a single word, knowing exactly what you need: his fingers hooking up in you, moving in tandem with his thumb. It tears an incoherent moan from you.

Finally he releases your wrists and without hesitation your hands tangle into his curls, pulling his mouth to yours non-too gently. As he leans over you, never missing a beat, pumping his fingers in your pussy relentlessly, he uses his other hand to push away the lace of your bra. His fingers immediately pinch and pull your nipple, adding to the building pressure in you.

“Bradley…” You moan unabashedly. His skin is so hot under your touch, everything about him sets you aflame. You buck your hips harder, feeling so close already. Bradley drags his teeth along your collarbone, stopping at the pulse point at your neck, and biting down.

You scream out in ecstasy, your muscles coiling tight, wrapping yourself around Bradley, pulling him along in your wave. Bradley’s mouth crashes into yours, swallowing your scream. As your cresting wave makes landfall, a calm settles back into your tired bones, and suddenly tears spring up behind your closed eyelids. Bradley is still kissing you deeply, his tongue moving against yours, devouring every thought.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, your teary eyes meeting his for a few seconds. As he hovers above you, you take every bit of Bradley in. Your muddled brain tries to come to a coherent thought, but in the end, you feel it more than you can formulate it.

You are the luckiest girl alive.

Hands moving of their own accord, you reach for Bradley, nails lightly raking down his chest. Bradley pulls you up with him, cradling your face in his hands as he presses a kiss on your lips. You pop the button of his jeans, sliding your hands down his boxer shorts. Grasping his rock hard shaft, you start pumping slowly. Bradley groans as he nibbles your bottom lip.

“I’m not done with you yet, darlin’.” He teases.

You giggle softly. “But I want you.”

Bradley only responds by unclasping your bra and sliding it down your arms. You press yourself against him, wanting to feel him against you. His hand is massaging your breast, tweaking your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Skimming his fingers down your sides, he tugs your slacks and underwear down your legs in one smooth gesture. They end up somewhere in the darkness of the room, along with the rest of your clothes. You push his pants down his thighs—he easily steps out of them and you pull him with you onto the bed.

His hot mouth is on your tits, as you palm his cock.

“I need you inside me.” You breathe. Bradley doesn’t respond at first, kissing and nipping his way down your body.

“I’m still not done with you.” His breath is hot against your soaking pussy. You whimper, blindly reaching for his hair as his tongue presses against your still-sensitive clit. Hooking your knee over his shoulder, using the leverage to tilt your pelvis just so, you know you’re not going to last very long under his assault. He squeezes your thigh as you tug his hair painfully. You roll your hips against Bradley’s face, setting a much-needed feverish pace. He acquiesces, tongue flicking against your clit without break, tearing a litany of swears from you.

“F- fuck, Bradley - don’t stop,” You beg, breathlessly. “You’re so fucking good.”

His free hand harshly squeezes your breast, pinching and manipulating the nipple as he hums—you feel the deep vibrations go through your core. Your body feels electrified, the pressure building in you from Bradley’s onslaught. He can feel your body stiffening, hips jerking, breath quickening. He knows you’re close, and he wants to pull you over the edge of pleasure.

You are mumbling incoherently, Bradley’s name on your lips like a prayer, as the coil in your stomach is wound almost painfully. Just a little bit more. He is relentless in his mission, tongue lashing against you. Splaying his hand on your lower stomach, Bradley stills your hips, building the anticipation even more.

Just when you think you cannot take it anymore, the coil in you springs. You cannot even begin to care how loud you are right now. Bradley is still holding you down, his mouth buried in your pussy as you cum, moans filling the room.

It feels like your breath has been ripped from your lungs. You are only vaguely aware of the tears leaking from your screwed-shut eyelids—your brain feels like it has been disconnected from your body completely, static electricity flickering through your veins.

“Fuck, darlin’…” Bradley is panting. His voice is suddenly close, concerned. “Hey, are you okay?” His finger trails down the wet streak down your cheek.

Slowly opening your eyes, colorful spots filing your vision, you look up at Bradley. You don’t know why there are tears on your face. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, but you aren’t sad in any way.

“I’m okay.” You croak, softly pressing your lips against his, tasting yourself on him. “You just completely blew my mind.” You joke lightly.

“I’ll accept that reason.” Bradley grins. “Do you need a break?”

You shake your head almost petulantly. “No, I need you.”

“Please.” You add softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. You want Bradley close.

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. “Anything for you.”

He slides his cock into your slick pussy, drenched in your own cum, in one swift motion, filling you to the hilt. You moan as Bradley swears under his breath.

“Fu- fuck, darlin’, you feel so, so good.” His voice is deep, rough, and so close, his mustache is brushing against the shell of your ear – it’s sending shivers down your spine.

Bradley sets a slow, almost leisurely pace. He wants to savor this; your blushing face, glassy eyes looking up at him as you wrap yourself around him. Your look of love. This is how he wants you committed to his memory forever, and quietly wishes this would be the look he would see in his dreams.

In the meantime, he will make to be worthy of that look every day. So you will look at him like that every day. Only at him. Your fingers are running down the side of his face, a small smile gracing your lips. He grabs your hand and presses a kiss against your palm before intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing your hand as he rolls his hips against you.

It feels so intimate. So much more intimate than ever before.

You always tried to be strong, but you had also shown your vulnerability and insecurities to him. You cried, you were angry, your hands shook when you unbuttoned his shirt. Now that you know him, arguably better than almost anyone else, Bradley cannot help but feel like the axis has tilted. He trusts you. With himself, with his pain and his love.

Admitting and accepting that makes everything so much clearer.

“I love you.” The words come out naturally. It’s a verbalization of what he’s been feeling for a long time now and saying the words is familiar, because really, he’s told you many times in many different ways already, just not with those words.

“I love you too.” You gasp. “S- so much.”

Leaning on his elbow, fingers still intertwined with yours, Bradley speeds up the pace—his cock driving into you hungrily. Your tits bounce deliciously every time he fills you to the hilt, your hips rising to meet his every move. He missed you so much, he knows he’s not going to last long.

You feel Bradley’s hips starting to stutter irregularly as he’s speeding up, a light sheen of sweat forming on his brow. Your nails rake over his back, tilting your hips for more friction. Bradley groans, brow furrowed as he searches for release.

“Will you cum for me?” You encourage sweetly. “Cum for me, Bradley, I need you.”

How can he refuse, when you ask him like that?

Bradley pounds into you, your moans and his swears filling the room. He squeezes your hand painfully, as he closes his eyes for a moment, never losing the relentless pace.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close.” He grinds out.

“Please, Bradley -” You beg in a whispery voice.

Bradley moans loudly, swearing as his movements turn erratic, trusts turning irregular until his hips stutter to a halt. Breathing heavily, he rests his forehead against yours—your breath mingling before his body slowly sinks into yours. Together you lay there in a bubble of contentment, between the messy sheets, clothes strewn around and the chaos of your week.

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

“Darlin’, are you awake?”

You blink heavily against the sunlight streaming into the room. You went out like a light last night. Both Bradley and you were so exhausted from everything that happened that week, you pretty much fell asleep on top of each other. You only managed to go to the bathroom before completely conking out, Bradley was already fast asleep by them.

“Wha- what time is it?” You ask, voice thick with sleep. It’s only as you gain some awareness of your surroundings, you notice Bradley is not in bed with you anymore, rather standing next to it, bent over you. He’s dressed in only his boxers, while you are still naked under the covers.

“It’s a little past 11.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your temple. Fuck, that late? “But more pressingly, sweetheart; you don’t have any coffee. Actually, you don’t have much of anything in the house.”

Oops.

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to go shopping.” You mumble, rubbing your eyes.

“And here I was going to make you breakfast.” Bradley teases. “Come on, get up. At least let me take you out.”

“I need to shower,” You yawn, scratching your head. “Ugh, and wash my hair.”

“Well, let’s go take care of that.” Bradley grins, as he scoops you up from the bed, causing you to squeal in delight as you scramble to grab onto him. He effortlessly pulls you up from the bed, the covers still wrapped around you. You laugh together as he carries you out of the bedroom.

The shower take way too long—mostly because you spent less time washing, and more time pinned against the tile wall, moaning in ecstasy. Gasping for breath, wetter from sweat than water and Bradley’s cum dripping down your thighs, you end up kicking him out of the shower. You’re going to be stuck there for the rest of the day and your water bill will be through the roof. He leaves you with a wink.

You make quick work of washing your hair, lathering it with conditioner and shaving for good measure. Hair wrapped in a towel, you get dressed in comfortable jeans and a simple cotton shirt. You’re going to need to blow dry it before you go out—also you should really do your makeup. The bruise is slowly getting over the worst of it, but it’s still pretty visible.

Head bent down, rubbing the towel through your hair, you walk into the living room. From the corner of your eye, you see Bradley sitting on the couch, fully dressed already. “Babe, are we really out of all coffee?” You’re dying for a cup.

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you look up, holding the towel up from your face. Bradley is gingerly holding his parent’s wedding album, carefully moving the loose pictures into place.

“Do you think it’s fixable?” His voice is quiet. “It was my mom’s favorite album.”

You blink, before rewrapping your hair and sitting down next to him. Carefully, you pick up one of the pictures and inspect it.

“Yeah, I’ve seen this happen a lot with picture collections we get. It looks like the glue disintegrated.” You note as you look at the back of the photo. As you suspect, the glue in the corners has left only brown residue and has long-lost its function. “We do restorations regularly—well not me, per se, I did it as part of my rotations as an intern—but it can be anything from humidity, or just a bad batch of glue…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

“Can you fix it?”

“Me?” You cannot hide your surprise at his request. “I mean—I can get some of the supplies we use at work.” You regard Bradley carefully. “Do you want me to do that?”

“Yeah…” He sighs. “I’m kind of… scared I’ll ruin it.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “And you’re the archivist here.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not really a conservation specialist, but I’ll do my best.” You reply earnestly. This feels like a pretty serious responsibility. “I’ll get some special glue, and maybe some protective sleeves and smaller boxes to store all the other loose photos, okay?”

You smile lightly at him, feeling a blush creep up. The way Bradley puts his trust in you to care for the last tangible memories he has from his parents gives you butterflies. “Your mom did such a great job dating all the photos, I can order them for you.”

You pause for a moment.

“If you want, that is.” You backtrack, unsure. This is not a history project, it’s not an anonymous donation to archives from someone’s estate, these are Bradley’s memories. It should be his choice. “I will do what I can to help you.”

“Thanks sweetheart.” He carefully closes the album. “I trust you completely with this—you know so much better than I how to care for all these things.”

“But they are still your memories.” You say, voice soft. “And in the end, you need to be happy with it.”

“You make me happy.” Bradley replies mischievously.

“You are impossible.” You grin, as move to get up.

“Impossibly in love with you?” He teases.

Okay. So it would be a complete lie if that doesn’t make your heart jump so hard it’s making your rib cage rattle as blood floods to your cheeks. Regardless of how fucking cheesy that is.

You try your best to shoot him a withering look, although it probably lacks power. Bradley is trying to get a reaction out of you. You can tell by that cheeky glint in his eye, the way his mouth is pulled in that cocky half-smirk and the casual figure he cuts, leaning back on the sofa; he knows he succeeded.

You just grunt in embarrassment, pulling the towel back over your face as you leg it out the room, leaving Bradley to enjoy his victory.

Bradley ends up taking you to a diner—which is fine by you, because regular refills on coffee is exactly what you need right now. You slide into a booth together, Bradley immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

If Bradley was tactile before, he’s turned it up to 11 today. Not that you are complaining. It feels like you need to fill up on everything Bradley—like you’ve lost precious time, even if it was just a week—before he leaves again.

Rationally, you know it’s only a month. He’s been gone for longer. You’ve been through this together. But it suddenly all feels strange again, a little bit apprehension under the surface, as you see your connection in a new light full of new heights and depths. It never felt better, but this time being apart will be different from before.

You eat your breakfast in relative silence—honestly, after the first bite of your blueberry pancakes, you realize how much you are starving. You lean back against Bradley, nursing your coffee.

“Hey babe,” You start, looking up at him through your lashes. “You’re flying out to Texas on Tuesday, right?”

Bradley nods. “Yeah, about that…” He trails off, while he fidgets with his mug. “No, never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What?” You sit up, looking at him curiously. The tips of his ears are red as he avoids your gaze. “Come on, tell me.”

“I’m flying commercial, so I was thinking to change my ticket to fly out of D.C.”

“Won’t that be expensive, changing it so late?” You ask, not unkindly.

“Well-” Bradley hesitates, eyes roaming the room nervously. You are seriously wondering what has him out of sorts like this suddenly. “I was thinking you could drop me off at the airport Tuesday and take the Bronco. You can use it when I’m gone, it’s safer than your car anyway. It would make me feel better if you use my car.” He ends his sentence hurriedly: “And then you could come pick me up again whenigetback.”

Letting out a deep breath, Bradley continues, voice forced light. “But it’s stupid, you have work, and you’re right, it’s probably kind of late to change my ticket.”

“Hold on.” You cut in, gently placing your hand on his cheek and turning him to face you. “Babe. Do you want me to take you to the airport and pick you up when you get back?”

“Yes.” He replies earnestly. “But it’s such short notice, I don’t want you to get into trouble with work…”

“I’ll handle that, don’t worry.” You smile. “Of all places, the DoD will understand I have to say goodbye to my handsome naval aviator boyfriend because he’s leaving for a month.”

“I’d love to do that for you. I want to be there for you.” You tell him honestly. “And I’m not saying that just because you’re lending me your car for a whole month.” You add with a grin.

Bradley laughs loudly at that. His eyes crinkle, the apprehension suddenly leaving him. He presses a kiss against your lips. “I’ll be rebooking my ticket then.”

“You do that.” You smile—it means you will have him with you for two more days, instead of him leaving on Sunday already. Sometimes things just work out like that.

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

After Bradley leaves for Texas, you spent your evenings going through the pictures from the box. Gently cleaning them, tucking them in protective sleeves and ordering them chronologically in new boxes where they won’t be thrown around so much.

As you clear out the box Bradley left you, you find small trinkets that must have been thrown in at some point. A small plastic soldier, scraps of paper, lots of dust. You clean everything and save everything that might be of worth in an envelope. It’s not up to you to throw anything away.

Stuck in the corner of the box, you find a pair of dog tags that belonged to Bradley’s father. They are smudged and dirty—you have no idea if that’s from being in the dusty box (which was stored god knows where for how long) or this is the way they were returned to the family.

You want to ask Bradley, but elect to do so when he is back. He calls you almost every day, but you notice his unease when you ask about objects from the box. It’s still difficult for him. And he tries so hard.

So instead, you order a flat, rectangular box through work, once that is specifically used to store small items. You fill it with soft foam, cut to measure, and carefully pin the dog tags into place. Bradley can decide what he wants to do with this later.

It’s late at night, almost halfway through Bradley’s training mission, you find something unexpected.

It’s a crushed ring box.

The hinges are rusted and twisted, the top of the box sitting at an awkward ninety-degree angle. It’s empty, the once soft fabric on the outside torn and stained. The button to open the box is loose in the socket, jiggling sadly with every movement.

It mostly likely got torn apart between the heavy albums between different moves, just loosely thrown in, unsecured in any way.

It doesn’t look like it can be salvaged. Not only that, but it’s beyond your skill, that’s for sure. Still, you carefully place it in an envelope. Maybe you can ask someone at work if they know someone (a jeweler? A carpenter? Who actually repairs things like these?), although it looks like a commercially produced box. Getting it restored will probably cost a lot more than getting a new one. But this is not your decision to make.

More importantly: there is a ring box, but no ring?

You should go to bed. But you cannot resist a good mystery. A missing puzzle piece.

It’s late, so Bradley is probably already asleep. He mentioned he has an early start tomorrow and you don’t want to disturb him. But you also don’t want to wait almost two weeks before you can ask about the missing ring.

You take out the last items from the box—it’s as good as empty now.

You use the torch on your phone to get a better look, fingers running along the edges of the cardboard. There’s a dust bunny, a few scraps of paper and what looks like a lone Lego brick. No ring.

Carefully peeling back the flaps on the bottom, you lean closer for a better look. Still nothing. You wiggle your hand under the flap, fingers exploring every nook and cranny. Your hand is getting coated in dust and what feels like grains of sand.

Yuck.

Still no luck.

Maybe there is no ring, and it’s been long lost between Bradley’s moves.

But that’s kind of boring.

Putting your phone away, you sit back, rocking on your heels.

Fuck this.

You flip the box over, shaking it with some vigor. Sand, dust and Lego hit the floor with soft thuds. Suddenly, a soft-

Ting.

Metal hitting the wooden floor.

Ting.

It bounces.

Quickly, you push the box out of the way.

There, between the dust and the grime, landed a golden ring. The almond shaped topaz, set between two smaller diamonds, glitters like the sun, even under the artificial light of your living room light.

Carefully picking it up, you study it. Like everything in the box, it’s kind of dirty and scuffed. As you look at it—it is a beautiful ring—it dawns on you. It looks familiar.

But… from where?

Oh fuck.

Pulling out the wedding album, you flip the pages until you find the picture you are looking for. You’ve spent a better part of a week, every evening after work (sometimes while on the phone with Bradley), carefully peeling the pictures off the page and painstakingly reapplying them until your back hurt. You’ve gotten plenty familiar with every photo.

There it is.

Bradley’s parents, in close up, smiling at each other lovingly. But more importantly, her hand is resting on his shoulder, and there, clear as day, sits that exact ring.

It’s his mother’s engagement ring.

Suddenly, your heart is beating so loudly, you can barely hear yourself think. You know Bradley didn’t leave it in there for you to find. Hell, considering the state it’s in, he probably forgot it was in there in the first place.

But.

You cannot deny that you’ve not allowed yourself a little dream here and there. In the long term, you indulge in the fantasy of getting married to Bradley. Would Bradley marry you? You’ve never talked about marriage, or kids, together.

Finding this ring now sets your mind into overdrive. He would look so good in his formal uniform. He would kiss you so sweetly at the alt- oooh, this is bad.

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Okay. Focus on the practicals.

The ring box is busted, so you need to find a place to store the ring. You could order a new ring box online, but you don’t want the ring to just lie around your desk in the meantime.

It feels a bit too forward to place it in your own jewelry box. It’s not yours, it shouldn’t be there. The only other place… the box with the dog tags.

Your breath sounds loud in the otherwise silent room—adrenaline is still coursing through your veins as you open the small box. With the thin blade you use to lift pictures off the page, you slice a small slit into the foam, next to the dog tags.

The ring slides in easily, glinting happily in the light, cozily tucked next to the dog tags.

It looks… right, you decide.

You close the little box lovingly.

It feels right, having them together like that.

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

Today is the day. You are bouncing on your heels, trying to see over the crowd of people in the arrival hall.

You’ve checked signs at the exit at least a dozen times. It’s really this exit. Every 30 seconds, your eyes flicker over to the display—no, the arrival hall for Bradley’s flight hasn’t changed, yes, it’s still the same exit. The airport app only confirms it.

You fidget with the belt of your light trench coat.

Why are you so nervous?

It’s only been a month.

You’ve arrived too early—Bradley’s plane hasn’t even landed yet. But you’ve been having this dreadful, horror-filled premonition you’d be late—when he finally asked you to wait for him.

You can’t fuck this up.

But now you’re here, a good 20 minutes early, nervously shifting your weight from foot to foot, watching people around you mill about. Weary travelers rush past you to taxis, while people have small and big reunions, and designated airport pick-ups hold signs with bored expressions.

It’s torture.

You should have brought a book. Or at least your AirPods or something. Anything to distract you from looking at the clock every 5-odd seconds, getting distracted by every announcement made, and ultimately disappointed every time with how slowly time is going.

Trying to stop yourself from pacing like an absolute madwoman in front of the exit, you stroll around the shops in the arrival halls—always in the line of sight of one of the information displays. Not that anything changes.

Listlessly you page through cheap romance novels, read a couple of headlines on the magazine rack and inspect small trinkets. There is a particularly unfortunate-looking plastic model of the Washington monument, leaning precariously forward like it’s in a tower of Pisa contest (you almost buy it because you feel so bad for it).

Unfortunately, that’s only 5 minutes gone.

You recheck your pockets for what must be the 348th time today. Phone, house keys, car keys. Chapstick, chewing gum, wallet. Everything is still there.

You walk past the flower stand, where big bouquets and bunches of roses in vibrant colors contrast starkly against the gray marble airport tiling. Aluminum balloons swing softly as people rush home. The smell of overpriced cheesy pastries wafts through the air.

You quickly stop by the bathroom—brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The bruise on your face has long disappeared. You look fine.

It’s too cold for the summer dress Bradley seems to favor, so you’ve opted for a wrap dress with longer sleeves that is more appropriate for the weather. You like to think that cut flatters you. You look good.

Slipping your hand back into the pockets of your coat, you slowly head back to the exit. Still no change on the display.

You repeat two more slow rounds around the shops, trying not to look like a total weirdo, when the display finally shows Bradley’s plane has landed. Faster than necessary, you leg it back to the exit, as if he could come out any minute. Yes, you know he still needs to make it off the plane, wait for his luggage, and then walk all the way where you are waiting but Bradley is here.

You’re about to burst with anticipation, hands clasped around your phone that you hold up to your chest because you don’t think you can stop fidgeting otherwise, and because it feels like your heart might leap straight out.

“waiting for luggage x”

Bradley’s message is simple and to the point, but makes you feel like you might just float above the crowd in front of you and straight into his arms.

He is so close.

Every time the sliding doors open and people file out, you bounce onto your tiptoes to see that familiar head of caramel curls with that confidently easy-going gait and that cocky smile that makes you weak at the knees. Bradley knows exactly the effect he has on you, and you’ve decided to just own it.

Fuck it, you’re in love.

And you know it’s mutual.

It’s like you’ve developed a sixth sense for Bradley. The moment the sliding doors open again, you feel him before you see him. He’s here.

Bradley’s stance is confident in his crisp khaki uniform as he steps out, not faltering for a second —but his eyes are scanning the crowd nervously. You stand rooted to the ground for one second before your brain jolts you into action: he’s looking for you.

Bradley’s heart is beating anxiously—where are you? — when, your voice rings out over all the noise around, clear as a bell.

“Bradley!”

You are weaving through the crowd, about 90 feet away, trying to get past the horde of people waiting as quickly and somewhat as politely as possible. He can see your shining eyes even from the distance: they are his beacon home.

Unceremoniously, he drops his bag on the floor, not really caring it’s in the middle of the path. He only has eyes for you now.

Finally, you break free from the line, running forward with your arms outstretched. Before you can take two steps, Bradley is running up to you.

You crash into each other, Bradley lifting you off your feet in one fell swoop. You wrap your legs around him, not really caring how the skirt of your dress is bunching up around your thighs. Your hands got to cradle Bradley’s face, lips inching close like you’re sharing a secret just between the two before you kiss him.

“Welcome home, lieutenant.”

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

[note] aaaaand that it's for the main story. Almost. There is still an epilogue in the works where I'll try to tie up some of the leftover threads. Plus there's one side story that I'm particularly excited to write. Soon I'll probably take some time to thoroughly edit the story. I know for a fact some story elements fell a little to the wayside, and not everything works quite like I wanted it to (let alone that some sentences read like I've had a stroke half-way through).

Thank you for reading. Thank you for all the comments and encouragement. Thank you for helping me re-discover that writing can still be fun and it's okay to self-indulge. Ultimately, I hope my story brought you some joy!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader

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legolasbadass · 4 months

Text

Home for Christmas

Summary: Richard returns home from Boston for the holidays and spends his first Christmas with Lorelei.

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: E

A/N: Hi everyone! I want to apologize for not posting much and not updating my fics in months. Real life got in the way, but I hope you will be pleased to know that I am definitely not abandoning my works, including Office Hours. As a little treat, here is a short and fluffy Christmas fic with your two favourite professors while you wait for the next chapter. 💙

My heart swells with relief and excitement at the sound of keys being inserted into the lock, and I rush to the front door just in time to see Richard stepping over the threshold, his cheeks red from the cold but his smile reflecting the love shining in his eyes. He barely has time to drop his bags onto the floor and close the front door before I jump into his arms, but his relieved laugh tells me he does not mind; it has not been that long since we saw each other last, but even just three weeks is too long for us to bear.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” I breathe out as I bury my face in the crook of his neck, which is cold against my cheeks despite the thick scarf that should have kept him warm.

Richard squeezes me tight, one of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other caresses my hair. “Me too. More than you know.”

His voice is heavy with longing, so I squeeze him tight, reminding him that he is home now and he need not think about our separation anymore. At least not for a few weeks. The time will pass too quickly, but for now, I focus on the thought of our first Christmas together.

Looking up to meet his eyes, I stand on my tiptoes and press a tender kiss on his lips, revelling in the familiar coarseness of his beard against my cheeks. When, a few moments later, I begin to pull away, Richard tightens his hold on me and deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping between my parted lips and kindling a deep need inside me. But as much as I want to give in and let him carry me to the bedroom, I have other plans in mind.

“Come on,” I say between pecks as I slowly pull away.

Richard frowns, and the lust darkening his eyes almost makes me give in. “Why are you putting on your coat?”

I smile. “Because we are going to get our Christmas tree!”

He stares at me as though hoping I am joking, but when he realizes I am serious, he chuckles. “Sweetheart, I just got here—can’t it wait?”

“Oh, sorry—I’m excited and I was hoping you wouldn’t be too tired after your flight.”

“I’m not really tired,” he says, closing the space between us once more. “But after three weeks apart, I was hoping I’d get to take you upstairs and have my way with you all night long.”

I shiver at the rumbling tone with which he speaks these words and swallow hard. “Well, you will get to do that, but right now it’s still the afternoon,” I reply playfully, and he raises his eyebrows. “Come on! You made me wait for you to come home before decorating and now it’s already December 15th and there’s not a single Christmas decoration in the house!” Richard tries to hide his smile but fails. “I promise we will have lots of sex all night long—if we go get our Christmas tree now. I even got new lingerie for the occasion…” I say as I teasingly run a hand down his chest.

“You’re cruel to mention new lingerie,” he groans, and I giggle as I press a fleeting kiss against his jaw. “Alright, fine. Let’s go get our Christmas tree—but only because I don’t want you to be thinking about the tree while I make love to you.”

“I’m just excited!” I laugh. “It’s our first Christmas together.”

Richard smiles. “I know.” For a fleeting moment, I think of last Christmas, when I thought I had ruined everything and he would never again hold me in his arms and look at me with the tenderness that now fills his eyes, but the soft kiss we share is a reminder that all that is in the past and it cannot affect our love for each other.

After a few more kisses, we make our way to the car, and we share good laughs on our way to the Christmas market in the city centre. Finding a good parking spot takes us a while, but nothing can dampen my spirits. Christmas is my favourite holiday, and I am very excited to share this special time with Richard for the first time.

Hand in hand, we meander through the market, the chill in the air forgotten in the warmth of our love and the festive atmosphere surrounding us. The market is a bustling hub of activity, with families, couples, and friends all wrapped up in coats and scarves, sipping hot chocolate and eating roasted nuts while admiring the array of holiday decorations on display. We stop at a stall adorned with delicate, handcrafted ornaments glimmering under the soft glow of fairy lights and pick out two ornaments—a delicate silver snowflake and a glimmering pale green bauble—to commemorate our first Christmas. Then, we follow the twinkling lights toward the Christmas trees; the sight of the evergreens fills me with childlike excitement, and I tug on Richard’s arm as my eyes scan the selection of trees in search of the perfect one.

“How about this one?” Richard suggests, and I turn around to see him eyeing a tree that is only as tall as he is.

“It’s too small.”

“You think?”

“Yes—you’re as tall as that tree!”

“But I’m 6’2,” he chuckles.

“You can’t be as tall as the tree!” I exclaim and drag him away toward taller trees. “Besides, what’s the point of having high ceilings like we do if you don’t get the biggest tree?”

We playfully argue as we make our way through the rows of Christmas trees, hand in hand.

“Alright, how about this one, then? You can’t say this one is too small.”

I follow Richard's gaze to a majestic, tall Norway spruce, its branches lush and green, and gasp. To ensure it is tall enough for my taste, Richard holds it up next to him, then stretches to touch the top, causing me to giggle.

“It’s perfect!” I say, clapping my hands together in excitement.

With big smiles, we approach the friendly vendor, a bearded man in a yellow knitted hat, and he compliments us on our choice of tree before helping Richard load it onto the car. As we drive back home with our prized Christmas tree tied to the roof of the vehicle, a sense of joy and anticipation fills the air.

***

As we drive back from the market, the sun begins to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city’s famous spires. My fingers are stiff from the cold as we arrive home and untie the tree from the car, but thankfully, inside the house, it is warm, and we hasten to shrug off the layers that protected us from the chill.

“So, where do you usually put your tree?” I ask as we bring the spruce into the living room, fallen needles tracing our path through the house.

“Well, I usually just get a small one and put it on the accent table near the window.”

“What? You mean you didn’t get a full-size tree?” I ask in incredulity as we rest the tree against the wall.

Richard shrugs as he unboxes the tree stand. “No. It’s always such a busy time of the year at the college, and I always spend Christmas at my parents’ anyways, so I just didn’t really decorate.”

I frown. “Do you not love Christmas? Oh, God—I’m in a relationship with the Grinch!”

Richard bursts out laughing and shakes his head. “No, I love Christmas. I just…”

“What?”

“For years, I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with. Christmas was just another reminder that I was alone and didn’t have a family of my own.”

“Richard…”

He offers me a soft, lopsided smile and pulls me into his arms. “It’s okay—it was all worth it, in the end. I’ve got you now.”

I return his smile and squeeze him tight. “I’m going to spoil you rotten,” I say, causing him to chuckle. “And we can do whatever you want. If you want to go back to the Christmas market, go ice skating, bake cookies—you name it and we’ll do it!”

“The only thing I’m really interested in doing right now is you,” he says with a smirk as his eyes darken.

Laughing, I playfully slap his arm, though the low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. “We have to decorate the tree first!”

“If I had known I’d end up being second to that tree for the holidays…”

I give him a teasing glare before taking the stand from him. It takes us a while to find a perfect spot for the tree—just in front of the bookshelves and window where it is still visible from outside without blocking our view—and an even longer while to ensure the tree is straight and secure it in the stand. I waste no time before excitedly opening the boxes of decorations in search of lights while Richard puts on some holiday music.

“Richard, I’m gonna need your help with the lights—I’m not tall enough to reach the top.”

As Frank Sinatra’s voice floats through the room, Richard takes the lights from my hands and begins to set them on the branches. Though I appreciate his help, I cannot help but grimace.

“Hm, try to start a little higher and closer to the trunk so we don’t see the wire as much.”

Richard rearranges the light and turns to me. “Better?”

I eye the tree attentively, not wanting to annoy him but wanting the tree to be perfect. “It’s a little better, yes. But try to get more lights in the centre. If they’re just at the tips of the branches, it won’t look as nice.”

“Alright,” he says, frowning in concentration as he revises his work once more, but then, as if sensing my disapproving frown, he turns around and sighs, though his eyes are soft with amusement. “You do it then.”

I am about to remind him I cannot reach the top when he lifts me into his arms, and I squeal in surprise.

“Don’t drop me,” I chuckle as I get to work.

Richard smiles. “Don’t worry—I’ve got you.”

He holds me tight as I wrap the lights around the top of the tree, carefully deciding on which branches the lights should hang and making sure the spacing is even. After Richard sets me down, we work together to illuminate the bottom; the tree is so tall we barely have enough lights, but it is still the most beautiful tree ever, especially when we begin to place the ornaments. Here, too, Richard needs a little guidance on where to place the decorations, but he learns quickly. The delicate snowflake and the glimmering bauble we picked out earlier at the market shine in places of honour among other glass baubles and handmade ornaments from our childhoods, carrying a nostalgic charm.

A while later, we turn off the lights in the house to admire our work, and the two of us grin like children as the tree glimmers in the darkness, the mutlicoloured lights dancing in our eyes.

“It’s beautiful!” Richard says with a wide smile as he pulls me into his arms.

“It is!” I concur though I cannot help but fixate on a certain golden bauble near the bottom of the tree that is slightly too close to its neighbour. “Although—”

When I step toward the tree and move the ornament, Richard scoffs in mock disbelief. “Hey!”

I giggle and bite my bottom lip in embarrassment. “Don’t you think it looks better there?”

Without even looking at the tree, Richard says, “I thought decorating the tree was supposed to be a team effort.”

“It is! You suggested a position for the ornment and I then followed up with a different suggestion—teamwork!”

He shakes his head, though fondness shines in his eyes. “You are an impertinent lass, Lorelei Browning.” His teasing words are accompanied by a pinch of my bum.

I offer him an innocent smile and shrug playfully. “Alright, now where should we hang the stockings?”

“Hold on—I thought the deal was tree then sex?”

“Well, the stockings are in the ornament boxes we already opened, so it only makes sense to hang those now,” I say, feigning innocence as he groans and presses a lingering kiss on my neck. “So where should we hang them?”

“On the mantle,” Richard replies as if there is no other option, though he does not remove his hand from my hip. He groans again when I move away from him, and I struggle to hold back my smile as I secure the stockings on the mantle. “Now all that’s missing is a nice fire,” Richard muses.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” I respond with a smile, causing him to chuckle as he reaches for the stack of wood. “Alright, done!” I say, stepping back to admire my work.

Richard’s stocking is slightly larger than mine, and the deep burgundy velvet with golden embroidery is in stark contrast to the fading fabric of the stocking I have owned since I was a child. A hand-knit snowman grins from one corner, secured to the stocking with different coloured threads from the repairs made by my mum over the years that only add to its charm.

“Well, they don’t quite match,” I point out with a chuckle. “But I think they look great.”

Richard looks up from his growing fire and smiles. “We can get matching ones next Christmas.”

Warmth floods my heart at the casualness and certainty with which he speaks of our future, and I smile as I sit close to him by the fire.

“Yes, next Christmas,” I say, and we seal the promise with a tender kiss, thinking of all the Christmases we hope to spend together in years to come.

Time seems to stand still as I lose myself in the pleasure of his mouth. One kiss becomes two, then three, our mouths soft and open as our tongues lazily tangle together, and as he wraps one strong arm around my waist and brings me closer, he pulls away just enough to say, “Please tell me you won’t make me decorate anymore tonight.”

Giggling, I press a fleeting kiss on the tip of his nose and shake my head. “No more decorating tonight.”

He offers me a soft smile, and I melt as I gaze back into his loving eyes, which reflect the flames in the hearth and the glimmering lights of the Christmas tree behind me. The fire turns his skin golden and dances in the waves of his dark hair, urging me to caress it as I lean in for another series of deep, all-consuming kisses that kindle a fervent need inside me.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Richard guides me down to the plush rug. Neither of us seems to care that it would take no time at all to reach our bed; the longing and frustration built up over three weeks apart, combined with the day’s teasing and lingering touches, fill our movements with a passionate urgency and leave us desperate for the pleasure to come. Even the short walk to our bedroom is too long a delay to savour each other now.

Richard holds himself up on one forearm while his other hand caresses my curves over my jumper. Then, as his hand dips lower, slipping under the wool to caress my naked skin, his lips trace a sensuous path down my neck, circling but never settling on the sensitive spot he knows drives me wild. Whimpering, I tighten my hold on his hair and try to guide him, but he merely chuckles and pulls back.

“So impatient,” he whispers playfully, then finally gives in to my silent pleas and gently bites the sensitive spot below my ear, causing me to arch under him as pleasure floods my core.

Swallowing back another whimper, I lick my lips and say, “I think I’ve been patient enough over the past few weeks.” I had meant this playfully, but now he looks up to meet my gaze, and in his tender blue eyes, guilt and the pain of separation are clear, tugging at my heart.

With a soft smile, I cradle his bearded face with one hand and slip the other under his shirt to caress his back, wanting to hold him, all of him, and touch him and love him because now we are together. And when we are together, everything is alright. I try to tell him as much with my next kiss, and his response is equally tender and hungry, as if he is reassuring himself that I am truly here, in his arms. The weight of separation slowly melts away with each caress and whispered endearment, and when, at last, he pulls my jumper over my head, revealing my sheer red bra, his eyes shine with more than just lust.

“This is lovely,” he says, his voice thickened by lust, as he traces the outline of a beaded nipple through the sheer fabric, causing me to gasp. “But I think I’d like to see the full set.”

My chuckle turns into a whimper as his fingers brush against my stomach on their way to the buttons of my jeans. I lift my hips to help him, but he is determined to take his time and torture me. With each button he undoes, he presses a lingering kiss on my stomach, and I squirm under him, my heartbeat thrumming between my ears as desire floods my senses. Then, even more slowly, he pulls my jeans down my legs and tosses my socks aside before sitting on his knees, annoyingly out of reach. His eyes roam over every inch of my body, lingering on my barely covered breasts and the equally sheer knickers that do nothing to conceal my arousal. Richard smiles to himself, and as though he cannot hold himself back, he reaches out to stroke the little red bow on the scalloped hem of my knickers. My breath hitches in my throat, causing his smirk to grow.

“You do know how to welcome me home,” he chuckles as he lifts his shirt over his head before lowering himself back so that my breasts are flush against his chest. He tenderly traces the line of my jaw with his index, then buries one hand in my hair, all while he presses soft kisses all over my face before claiming my parted lips. “You are so beautiful,” he breathes out between passionate, open-mouthed kisses. “And you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper as he buries his face in the crook of my neck and bites the sensitive skin there before licking the pain away.

His free hand moves down the column of my neck, tracing the line of my collarbone before settling on the swell of one breast. He squeezes gently—too gently—then pulls the sheer cups down to reveal my naked breasts to his hungry gaze. His lips close in on one beaded nipple, then the other, sucking and pulling with his teeth as he pushes one of my thighs aside to press himself flush against me; he is still wearing his jeans, and the roughness of the fabric, combined with his cold and hard belt and even harder arousal, is deliciously rough against me.

“Richard… please…”

“Please what?” he says, but then he slips one hand under the sheer fabric of my knickers and slowly caresses my wet folds, depriving me of the ability to speak.

He grows harder between my thighs as my moans echo through the room, mingling with the crackling of the fire. My blood hums in my veins, and pleasure pools between my thighs as he continues to touch me, rubbing my clit as he slips one long finger inside me, easily finding the spot that turns me into a breathless, mewling puddle. I am already on the edge of my orgasm, but I want him—I need him to fill me and join me in this bliss.

“Please—I need you…” I say breathlessly, struggling to think, let alone form a coherent sentence. “I need you inside me.”

Richard smirks as he hovers over me, his lips teasingly close to mine. He withdraws his hand, leaving me yearning for more, but when I begin to rise and reach out to unbuckle his belt, he rises to his knees and shakes his head.

“Lie back, sweetheart.”

Frowning, I gaze back into his eyes, torn between wanting to touch him and knowing he will not give me what I want if I disobey, but I soon become distracted by the movements of his large hands as he unbuckles his belt. Once he is fully undressed, I wait for him to crawl back into my arms, but instead, he remains where he is and slowly begins to stroke himself. My breath catches at the sight and I lick my lips, almost hypnotized by the way the flickering firelight turns his skin golden and highlights his flexing muscles. The air between us is warm and heavy with desire, and when, at last, he lowers himself above me, a breathless, relieved laugh escapes me.

But he is not quite done teasing me. Gazing deep into my eyes, he drags my knickers down my legs, then grips his hardness and rubs himself against my wetness, teasing my clit. My whole body now aches with the need to touch him, to caress and kiss every inch of his skin, and I squirm under him, trying to increase the friction between us, but he holds me tightly in place with the weight of his body.

“You bastard,” I groan, and he laughs as he presses his lips to mine.

“Now, now—be nice or else you’ll end up on the naughty list,” he says playfully, and I giggle even as the low rumble of his voice sends heat swirling through me.

Laughter still hangs in the air when, finally, he enters me. He moves with deliberate slowness, and I throw my head back as he fills me, inch by delectable inch, only to slide back out almost completely, leaving me painfully empty. He teases me like this a few times before pushing back in all the way, and the deep moan that tumbles from his lips tells me he is done teasing me even before the first thrust that leaves me grasping onto him.

No words are spoken as he thrusts into me, hard claiming thrusts that shake me to my very core, our bodies falling into this familiar dance as if not a day has passed since we were last united in this way. His head is buried in the crook of my neck, and his kisses are interrupted only by his groans. My legs are now wrapped around him, my heels digging into the soft flesh of his bottom as I hold onto his strong shoulders, my nails lightly digging into his skin, and I move in tandem with him as he fills the emptiness that lingered in my heart during our time apart.

With a final, breathless moan, we find release together. I press my thighs against him, my back arching as wave after wave of nearly overwhelming pleasure floods my senses, buzzing incessantly in my core. Richard continues to move inside me until our climaxes subside, then collapses next to me on the rug as our heavy breathing echoes around us. Sometime later, I turn my head to the side and find him staring up at the ceiling, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. Just as I scooch closer to him, he meets my gaze and smiles.

“Could we make this a Christmas tradition?” he asks playfully as he wraps a strong arm around me, pulling me flush against him.

“I think we could do that,” I giggle, reaching out to run my fingers through his tousled hair as his lips meet mine for a languid kiss. “I missed you so much.”

Richard takes a deep breath and squeezes me tight. “I missed you, too, sweetheart. But these past few months went by fast, didn’t they?” I nod slowly. “Before you know it, it’ll be May and this whole thing will be behind us.”

I gulp. “I want you to enjoy this year though. Living in Boston and working on this project—it’s an amazing opportunity,” I say, feeling guilty for wishing time would go faster so he can come home.

“I know—and I am enjoying it,” he reassures me. “But part of me just wants the project to be over so I can come back to Oxford and be with you.” He pauses then, his eyes drifting to the fire behind me, and swallows hard. “I hope you won’t get tired of me before then.”

“Don’t be silly,” I hasten to say, hurt that that thought would cross his mind for even a second. Being in a long-distance relationship is hard for both of us, but it is even harder for him; I know I cannot erase the past, but I desperately wish there was something I could do or say to make his insecurities disappear. “I love you, Richard. And I know just how special what we have is, so I’m not about to give it up anytime soon.”

He smiles softly, his eyes brimming with love as he presses another tender kiss onto my lips. “I love you, too.” Then he reluctantly pulls away, groaning as he stretches. “I have to get up now; I’m a bit old to lie on the floor like that.”

I chuckle, but then my eyes drift to the dimple at the base of his spine and his firm bottom. Despite tremors of release still humming between my legs, desire rushes through me, though I cannot help but laugh when I notice the spruce needles stuck to his back.

Richard chuckles as I brush them off him, then says, “I think round two should take place in the bedroom. What do you think?.”

He does not even wait for my response before scooping me into his arms, and our laughter echoes through the house as he carries me to our bedroom. In the hours that follow, we exchange many more open-mouthed kisses and soft whispers of love as we cling to each other, for at last, no time or distance stands between us.

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321 @dianakc @sazzlep @albionscastle

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters or added to my taglist! 💙

#richard armitage #richard armitage fanfic #richard armitage x oc #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage x you #professor au #office hours

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summerkoya · 1 year

Text

the next right thing

Chapter 3

aemond targaryen x original female character , aemond targaryen x wife!oc

summary: Aemond and Myria need each other just as much, but one of them is bound to make the first move

warnings: smut , aemond is a tease, a TEASE , fluff.

****

Myria opened her eyes, as she felt a warm beam of sunshine glimmering on her face. She stretched an arm to her right, and found the space empty, as always. She had a dim recollection of Aemond kissing her good morning, but she must’ve been asleep at the time. More often than not he started his day hours earlier than Myria, but he always made sure to kiss her before leaving the bed.

She rolled over, sighting in loneliness. It had been three moons since Max was born, and they still hadn’t spent a night together. Sure, they slept in the same bed every night, but they had yet to endeavour in an activity Myria had been particularly yearning for quite some time. She knew Aemond was just trying to be respectful of her, and she knew how lucky she was for that, most husbands weren’t that thoughtful; but she was growing relentless, and wished he did something.

Myria shook her head, deciding she would not let her day be ruined by such bothersome thoughts, then looked towards the window, and smiled. The weather was clear, the sun was shining and only a few clouds covered the sky. It was warm, and she was already feeling like her old self. No pain whatsoever, no excessive tiredness, not feeling utterly bloated anymore, and she wanted to take advantage of that and spend time playing with the boys once again.

So she hopped out of the bed, and put on a nice, rose dress that she had brought back from Dorne. It was made out of silk, and was tight on her waist, where a small knot tied the dress closed over her chest. It elegantly fell to just below her knees, and only covered her up to her shoulders, showing her bare arms. She guessed it could be seen as a slightly indecorous gown by the people in Westeros, but the day was unusually warm, and the dress made her feel like home. She was a Martell, first and foremost, which meant she thrived in the heat.

After leaving Max with a Septa, Myria strolled towards her children’s room and gently shoved the door open, smiling with fondness at the sight of the two boys sleeping. “Good morning, my sunshines!” She whispered with love, as she kissed each of them awake. Trystan started to sit up on his own, while Griffin remained in bed, snoring deeply. She bent down once again, and started tickling him, which managed to make him open his eyes in a smile. “Do you want to go with me to visit Rhaexar and Maelar?”

The boys sheepishly agreed with happiness, and jumped out of bed. Myria was fast to dress them, and then bolted across the castle’s hallways, as she pretended to chase after them. As much as they loved their little brother, the boys had missed being able to play with their mother, and she had missed doing so just as much. Myria complained sometimes about the wild souls the boys were, failing to admit both of them had certainly inherited such a trait because of her.

They reached the entrance to the castle, which also happened to be the training patio, and Myria helped the boys into a carriage, so they could all be taken into the dragonpit. She was more than happy to simply hop a horse and take them herself, but Aemond insisted on such precautions.

“Alright darlings, stay here,” she instructed them, after settling them down, “I am going to look for Yago, I’ll be back in a second.”

The few times the man wasn’t outside her door, he spent training, as she very well knew, so she figured he had to be somewhere around the patio. There was only one problem: the place was so cramped, Myria was having a hard time spotting him.

There was a big crowd near a corner, gasping in awe and cheering about something that was happening within the circle of people. Myria recalled Yago liked to get into practice fights, so she approached the multitude, hoping to find him. She gently pushed some people around, and stood behind two women, who were very openly blushing and rallying.

Myria then realised the crowd was franticing about two people duelling, and she was surprised to see her husband as one of them. Aemond was sparring against Ser Criston Cole, and quite dangerously as well. They were striking at each other with all of their strength, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart leap each time Aemond narrowly ducked one of the Commander’s attacks.

Myria knew she was supposed to look for Yago, but she couldn’t draw her eyes away from Aemond. She was aware of her husband’s impressive skills with the sword— his reputation preceded them everywhere they went, but she never knew how good indeed he was at it. She rarely saw her husband fighting, given that Aemond didn’t like to participate in tourneys and she wasn’t one to usually have incentive to go down and watch him, since she thought watching men sparring wasn’t that thrilling a diversion. But that day she stood corrected.

The way Aemond swirled the sword with his fingers, the hostile scowl that tightened his jaw, the grunts that left his lips each time he bolted towards Cole, and how easily he dodged all of his strikes, had Myria feeling a certain type of way, and her brain started to rush through a torrent of thoughts no honourable lady should have in public. She thought about his muscles, all very well known to her, flexing under his shirt; about him shoving her into bed with the same strength he pushed Cole, and him muffling his groans on her bare shoulders—

Before she could realise what she was doing, Myria found herself on the edge of the circle, watching with a much too improper gaze at her husband, if not openly ogling him.

The fight seemed to be reaching an end, since Aemond clearly had the upper hand. On a clever move, he aggressively hit Cole’s shield with his sword, making it snap in two, one of the parts landing just before Myria’s feet. With a kick, Aemond knocked Criston over, who fell to the floor with a thud, poked his neck with the tip of the sword, and smirked. Victory. People all around her cheered, the two women at her side maybe much too enthusiastically, but Myria was awfully entranced by him to notice.

“Well done, my Prince.” Cole smiled, as Aemond extended his arm to help him on his feet. That’s when the Prince turned around to search for the broken shield, and spotted her, his wife, gaping at him, eyes sparkling and cheeks faintly blushed. His eyes travelled to the hand she was pressing against her breasts, covered only by a thin, impossibly tight fabric, and heat ignited in his core, as his heart fluttered at the sight. He had to bite an arrogant smile away from his lips, proud about the fact that he could stir up such an improper reaction from her, away from the intimacy of their shared room.

“Be careful, my lady,” Aemond said out loud, pointing at the shield next to her feet, while strolling towards her. As he reached her, Aemond looked around, to make sure everyone was distracted, and drew his lips close to her ear. “I could see you drooling from six feet away, princess,” he whispered, subtly smirking at her.

“Mmm.” She dopily hummed, eyes fixed on the heartbeat on his neck, still much too entranced by her husband to understand the words coming at her. “Oh!” She gasped in embarrassment, once her brain catched up with her hearing. Myria looked down at her feet, as shame flushed her cheeks a bright, rose tinge. He was rather fond of that colour.

Aemond gently grabbed her chin, and lifted her gaze up, forcing her to meet his. “You don’t need to hide your arousal from me, dear wife.” He murmured against her ear. Myria felt the burning feeling of desire travelling down her stomach, and couldn’t help but to exhale a little whine as her husband dropped her face, and backed a step away from her, bending down to pick the broken shield.

“What is it, then?”

“I— I’m sorry?” She asked, face scrunched up in confusion.

“I assume you didn’t come here to indecently stare at your husband, or has lust simply made you bolder, dearest?” He sniggered, with a mischievous grin.

“O—oh,” she stuttered, “I was looking for Yago, so he could escort me and the boys to the dragonpit.”

“I’ll come with you.” He instructed, throwing the sword and broken shield on a table by their side. He then placed his hand on Myria’s lower back, and guided her towards the carriage.

The trip towards the dragonpit was loud, Myria thanked the Gods, as she spent most of the time struggling with keeping the boys away from jumping from one side to another, which distracted her from the butterflies her husband’s teasing had left fluttering on the depths of her core.

“Come on, boys!” She pulled them apart, as the carriage came to a halt. “Let Yago help you get down, that’s it.” Myria called, as she made sure the little boys jumped into the man’s arms safely. She was about to hop from the carriage herself, when a hand grabbed her waist and pulled her back inside. Aemond then pushed the door close, and gently shoved her against it. He placed a hand against the wall, right next to her face, and drew his face near hers, his hot breath making her tremble under his touch.

“W— what…”

“Do you want something from me, my lady?” He whispered, letting his lips brush against her cheek. “Is that why you put on that gown…” he added, trailing the edge of the dress with his fingers, around her shoulders, collarbone, cleavage… “and why you stared at me with such an insolent blush on your cheeks?”

…breasts. Myria slightly whined at his touch, at the delicacy with which his fingers rubbed against her chest, wishing he was rougher. She knew he was playing with her, but Myria wasn’t strong enough to resist. She was a pawn on a game he had already set the rules to.

Her body and soul became entirely his the moment he looked at her; her clever, witty and bold character surrendered before Aemond’s touch, like sand melts under fire. Myria fixed her gaze on his lips, with an almost famished expression on her eyes.

He placed a hand on her nape, gently pulling her towards him. “All you need to do is ask, my sweet wife.” His lips were so close, he might as well be already kissing her, and so she closed her eyes, and slightly opened her mouth, waiting for him to just take everything from her and then—

Agony.

Before she could realise what had happened, Aemond had stepped away from her, opened the carriage door, and was forcing her impossibly clumsy feet into the floor, as his steady hand rested on her lower back. Her heart kept on racing as they followed Yago and the boys towards the massive doors of the dragon pit, trying to pull herself together quickly.

She jogged towards her sons, as the sound of steps coming at them from a lower platform reached their ears, and soon enough two dragonkeepers were approaching them. Rhaexar, Trystan’s dragon, was four years of age, so he had to be brought in chains to avoid any problems, whereas Maelar was so small still, he was perfectly happy to cling on the man’s shoulder. Griffin wasn’t yet being fully trained to master him, since he was far too young still.

Maelar was the first to spot them, opening his wings and flying towards them. He landed on Myria’s arm, and started to softly screech, red scales fluttering with content.

“He missed you Mama!” Griff giggled.

“Rytsa, Maelar,” she chuckled, “I missed you too.” She gently patted his head, and then kneeled down to place the dragon in Griff’s arms.

While the two of them were playing with the small, harmless dragon, Aemond took Trystan by his hand and guided him towards Rhaexar. He motioned to the dragonkeeper to step away, since he wished to be the one to teach his son how to bond with his dragon.

“Alright, byka raqiros,” he sighed, bending down so he could match the toddler’s height, and very gently held his chin with his hand “as always, don’t make sudden or harsh moves, and don’t try to approach him unless you know he is in the mood for that.”

“Yes, papa.” Trystan nodded, squeezing his arm, and then started walking towards the dragon, nervous of letting his dad’s hand go, but Aemond wasn’t worried. Rhaexar was still a pretty small dragon, and he was one of the gentlest he had ever encountered. He had never even roared at the boy, much less tried something dangerous. He could be a bit of a rough player, sure, but he was simply matching Trystan’s character.

“Come on, ask him to serve you.” Aemond whispered, following close the steps of the boy. Although the dragon still kept a friendly demeanour, he was thrilled about seeing his soon to be rider, and couldn’t help but to move around, happily pumping his pale blue scales up, golden eyes shimmering with excitement.

“Dohaeragon, Rhaexar.” His little voice commanded. The dragon stood still in his place, with a pleasant semblance.

“Sȳrī,” Aemond smiled, “now go on, get closer.”

The toddler confidently closed the gap between him and the dragon, and placed a small hand on its back. Rhaexar amiably grumbled at the gesture, and started gurgling nonsense.

“Sȳz valītsos, Rhaexar, sȳz valītsos,” Trystan giggled, confidently petting the dragon. With a chuckle, Aemond took a step forward, and stroked the dragon’s neck.

“Papa,” the boy said, lifting his gaze, “can I say it?”

“Say what, ñuha zaldrītsos?” He asked, with a fond, loving expression on his face.

“You know what.” The toddler mischievously grinned.

Aemond looked around, to ensure his wife and son were far enough, and returned his gaze to the boy. “Go ahead.”

“Dracarys, Rhaexar!” Trystan instructed.

The dragon stared at the boy, and Aemond could swear he saw the toddler’s grin reflected on its face. Rhaexar lifted his neck, loudly screeched, and then spat the biggest flare his young body allowed him to.

Trystan returned to his father's side, jumping from excitement, and clutched on his leg, while laughing. Aemond instinctively lowered his hand and rubbed the toddler’s back, with a proud smile on his lips. Trystan might match his father in looks, but his laughter was all Myria’s. The wide smile, the way his eyes turned into half moons, the hiccups, and how effective it was in spreading joy for everyone else around. Aemond adored seeing his wife reflected on his children.

“Well done, ñuha valītsos.” He chuckled, sharing his laughter. “Soon enough you’ll be riding him, Trystan.”

“And will we go on rides together with Vaghar?” The boy asked, eyes sparkling with hope.

“Everyday,” Aemond nodded, “you’ll see.”

The whole show catched Myria and Griffin’s attention, and they started walking towards them. Excited, Griffin let go of Myria’s hand, and bolted towards Rhaexar, but Aemond catched him in his arms because he could reach him.

“Never run towards a dragon that is not yours, Griffin.” He scolded him, with a soothing voice. Not even if the situation demanded it was he able to yell at his children. “It could hurt you.”

“Yes, papa.”

Myria reached their side, and ruffled Trystan’s hair. “Mama, did you see that?!” He asked, bouncing with happiness, and a sweet, so heart—wrenchingly adorable smile on his lips.

“It was amazing, sweetheart!” She cheered, bending down so she could hug the boy. She caught his face with her hands and left, one, two, three kisses on his cheek.

“Mama, why do you always kiss us so much?” The boy complained, with a little giggle nonetheless.

“Because I just love you both so, so much!”

“How much?” Trystan teased her.

“Like this much!,” Myria took the toddler by the armpits and threw him into the air.

Trys giggled in delight as his mother caught him back, and hugged her head with his little arms. He suddenly turned his smile into a scowl, and stared at her with seriousness.

“Can we bring Max next time?” He asked.

“He’s far too young to be here, sweety.” She explained. “Maybe when he is older.”

“But his egg will hatch in no time, I know it!”

“We’ll see about that.” She smiled. She lifted her gaze towards Aemond, and catched him staring at her, lovingly. He wasn’t one to show affection like that so openly, so Myria guessed he must’ve been too distracted indeed. And then her mind, already wired to participate in Aemond’s game, realised his distraction provided her with a chance at coming back at him.

Myria noticed Trystan had dropped one of Rhaexar’s chains, and slowly bent down more to grab it, knowing the dress would hug her in all the right places. She placed the chain on Trystan’s hand, and instructed the boys to guide their dragon towards the dragonkeepers.

Myria turned around, and looked at Aemond with a smirk on her lips. Her husband simply stared at her, lips drawing into a fine line, “Hm,” and then raised his voice. “Boys!” He yelled. “Go with Yago, he’ll take you back to the castle.” He then placed a hand on Myria’s back, and softly pushed her towards the exit. “Your mother seems to be the one in need of a few lessons on how to behave in front of a dragon.” He added, with a whisper.

Myria couldn’t help but giggle, as she placed a hand over her mouth, heart fluttering like a teenager’s who is about to flee away with the boy she likes to give him a kiss. Little did she know Aemond had much more than a kiss in mind.

“Where are we going?” She laughed, as Aemond attentively guided her through a rough path in the mountain.

“You’ll see.” He replied, tightening his grip on her abdomen, making sure she wouldn’t do as much as tripping under his hold.

A few minutes later, they were reaching a cliff near Rhaenys’ Hill, where Vaghar liked to nest, since she was much too big for the dragonpit. A gasp escaped her lips as they approached her, feet coming to a halt, and Aemond turned around with a cocky smile on his face.

“Are you scared?”

“I—It’s just been so long since I last went for a ride with you.”

“She won’t hurt you.” He reassured her, holding her hand. “Now come on, it’ll be fine.”

Vaghar lifted her head in curiosity as they got close to her, but there were no aggressive gestures in her whatsoever.

“Gīda, Vaghar.” Aemond called, placing a hand close to the dragon’s mouth. He then turned towards Myria, who had remained a few, safe steps away, and extended a hand towards her.

Myria took a hold of it, and cautiously walked towards the dragon. The beast let out a timid growl as she laid a hand on her.

“Told you,” Aemond grinned, “she still likes you.”

“Nyke hae ao tolī, Vaghar.” She smiled, confidently stroking the dragon’s scales. No matter how many times she saw the beast, Myria would never grow past the feeling of utter astonishment. Vaghar was magnificent.

Aemond let them bond for a bit, before grabbing Myria’s waist to help her mount her. She climbed her with a strong hold, with Aemond following closely from behind, resting a hand on her back just in case. They reached the top, and he positioned himself behind Myria, and helped her get settled. He grabbed her hips, and pulled her as close to him as their bodies allowed them to, pressing her back against his chest. He let his fingers linger around her body for much more time than he needed to, which made Myria’s cheeks flush in arousal, a gesture that thankfully went unnoticed by him.

Aemond rested his chin on her shoulders, and brought his lips to her ear. “You say it.” He whispered, lusciously licking his lips.

Myria slightly tilted her head towards him, confused. She caught a glance of his gaze, eye laced with lust, before he stretched his arm to grab her chin, forcing her to face forward. “Hm. As you heard.”

Myria cleared her throat, and spoke with a small voice. “S—sōvegon, Vaghar.” But the dragon didn’t move.

“Louder, ñuha ābrazȳrys.” He whispered, as his hot breath on her nape sent a rill of heat between her thighs. “I want to hear you screaming.”

“Sōvegon, Vaghar!” She commanded, this time with strength on her cords. The dragon shifted below them, like an island coming out of the sea, and after a few large leaps, she jumped into the void, as her gigantic wings stretched across the sky. With a holt, Vaghar faced above, and started flying into the clouds.

Myria was sure she would’ve fallen straight into the ocean, if it weren’t for Aemond’s strong grip around her chest. She closed her eyes in fear, as Vaghar roared towards the sun. Once the initial shock passed, Myria dared to open her eyes, and turned around to find Aemond chuckling against her shoulder. By the Gods, he just loved riding on Vaghar with her.

She joined him in his laughter, as the wind and droplets of water against her face reminded her once again how much she enjoyed flying, few things in the world could compare to the feeling of freedom she found up there. Myria sighed in content as Vaghar finally stretched across the clouds, and lowered her pace, as she started hovering under the sun. She fixed her gaze nowhere in particular, enjoying the feeling of nothingness around her. No noises, no heaviness, no sights beyond the endless sky, just her husband behind her.

Myria shifted on her place, to get closer to him, and had to swallow down a moan when she felt his very obvious arousal against her ass. She unclenched one of her hands from the dragon’s mount, and placed it on Aemond’s leg. She then lifted her other arm, and caressed Aemond’s cheek with her fingers. She shifted her face so she would leave a peck on his lips, but that wasn’t enough for him. No. Dragonriding always gave him an appetite.

He hungrily took on her lips, biting on them, occasionally kissing her neck as well. On a bold move, he unclasped the one hand he was using to hold the reins, to rub against her bare arms. His touch went higher, and then lower, as he snuck a hand through the opening on her chest, and softly started trailing her collarbone, down to her breasts.

“Aemond…” she whined, closing her eyes at his touch, and placed her hand above her dress, just on top of Aemond’s, forcing him to tighten his grasp on her body.

“What is it?” he implored, letting go of her mouth, leaving wet kisses all around her nape and shoulders, “Show me what you want, my love.”

Myria snatched his hand from her chest, and guided below the fabric of her dress, towards her thighs, against the wetness in between. That was all Aemond needed to decide they should cut their flight short.

• • •

Aemond kicked the door to their shared room open, as he carried Myria in his arms. He dropped her gently on the bed, and leaned above her. He greedily kissed on her neck, leaving red marks all around it, until he found her lips again. Her smell was intoxicating for him, and she was warm, so damn warm. Myria brought her hands to the back of his head and hastily removed his eyepatch, throwing it into oblivion.

“There,” she nodded, out of breath. Aemond muffled a roar with her lips, pressing down on them, feeling as though he simply couldn’t have enough of her.

Invigorated by her gesture, Aemond grabbed one of her legs and started raising until it harshly pressed against his back, urging her to pull him closer. He didn’t remove his hand from it, instead, he started trailing it down her leg back to the hem of her dress.

With one hand, he tore the frail fabric of her dress, as she worked on removing his shirt. She whined in sheer deprivation as his hand finally reached her cunt, and she dug her nails into the skin on his back. His muscles tightened at her touch, as the sweet, electrifying pain brought a smirk to his lips.

“Do you want me, my sweet wife?” He grinned, as a malicious smile claimed his lips.

“Mmm.” She whimpered, biting down on her swollen, flushed lips.

“How much so?” He teased her.

“Please, Aemond…” She whined. In any other time, he would’ve enjoyed teasing her more, tormenting her until she pleaded, praying to the Gods for him, but that would’ve tormented him just the same.

To say that he had been yearning for this moment would be an understatement. He had been a gentleman, thoughtful of his wife and what her body went through for their child, but he would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t thought about having her for moons now.

“As you wish.” He kissed her, eager to feel her moans on his lips, as he introduced two fingers between her tight, wet walls.

“Oh, Gods…” Myria cried.

“Not a God,” he smirked, “just your adoring husband.”

As always, Aemond made sure his wife’s pleasure was attended to, before he even started to think about his. After a loud sob left her lips as she reached her orgasm, he started to undo his belt, while taking her lips with his once more.

Myria noticed her husband undressing, and hummed in pleasure as she caught a glimpse of the enlarged shape under his clothes. She stretched her hands to help him get rid of his pants, and he couldn't help but to groan, as his jaw clenched in desire.

He hastily started to tear the rest of her dress, and at first she was helping him do so, until she changed her mind.

“Wait, Aemond,” she said out of breath, “you shouldn’t…”

“What is it?”

“I—I just don’t…”

“Are you in pain?” He asked, concerned, resting both his hands on the mattress, as he stared deeply into her.

“No, no, not at all it’s just…” she lowered her gaze in embarrassment, “my body has changed since the baby, Aemond. I’ve got… scars around my belly…”

Aemond lowered himself to leave a sweet kiss on her lips, and delicately kept on opening her dress, as a shameful blush covered her cheeks. He threw the dress away, and stared into her eyes with a loving expression, before reaching down to kiss the marks on her stomach.

“You always tell me I should wear my scar with pride,” he hummed, “you should do the same. They’re marks of courage, marks that you’ve carried my dragons. I cherish them with awe, Myr.”

She sighed in adoration as he bent to kiss her lips, low enough that she felt his hard cock press against her thigh. She whined at the feeling, and pushed his hips even closer to her.

“Please, Aemond…” Myria whined, and her voice was like honey to his ears. So warm and sweet, he had to bite down on his lips to avoid a loud groan from escaping them.

“What do you want, my love?” He cocked his head, voice raspy.

“You,” she whined, as her lips turned into a pleading pout, “I need you, Aemond, now.”

He simply groaned in response, too aroused to mumble any words but a grunt. Aemond grinned at her, and gently opened her legs, so he could slide into her.

The moan that left her lips as he entered her, sent shivers of embarrassment to her face, and a shameful, burgundy blush covered her cheeks, as she was sure no honourable lady should ever make such a sound. Myria opened her eyes to stare at him, foolishly expecting to find a grim on his face. Quite the contrary. If only, her obvious, almost irrational yearning for him had but managed to make him even more aroused, were that even possible.

“Had I known you were this needy for me…” He grinned at her, as another loud sob escaped her lips. “Your unsatisfaction falls on me like as veil of shame, my lady. Don’t ever let me leave you this unattended.”

Myria pressed her leg even harder against his back, forcing his hips closer to her, which managed to snatch that oh so provoking smirk away from his lips, his usually vexed expression softening in utter bliss, as he muffled a moan against her neck.

“D— did you miss me?” She somehow managed to ask, deciding it was her turn to taunt him.

“I couldn’t possibly find the words to express how much.” He hummed, letting a groan escape his lips each time he thrusted into her.

“Then show me.”

Aemond's pace came to a halt, and a cry escaped her lips. Gods, she shouldn’t have gotten so cocky.

“My sweet wife…” he teased her, out of breath, pushing himself inside her in an agonisingly slow motion, “I couldn’t possibly show you how much so and remain a gentleman by the end of it.”

“T— thank the Gods I didn’t marry a gentleman, then” she grinned with difficulty.

Aemond tilted his head, overcome with devotion at the sight of his wife’s mien. Her cheeks, covered in the sweetest, most shameful blush; her brown eyes, wrinkled in pleading under her frowned eyebrows; lips, pressed in an insolent pout.

Had Aemond truly been the root of such a display of imploring, then by all means declare the game over, for she was the winner. He was forever hers.

• • •

How long he had spent claiming her dignity, Myria couldn’t possibly tell. The only thing clear on her mind, as she felt her husband’s heartbeat against her lips, was how much indeed she loved him.

She loved what a great father he was, despite how neglected he had been by his own as a child; she loved his sapphire eye and the butterflies such sight brought to her gut every time she got a glimpse of it; she loved how mean and taunting he was towards everyone except for her; she loved how sharp his features were, and how soft they became when he looked at her; she loved how much he couldn’t say he loved her, so he always made sure to express such feeling with actions. She so deeply loved him, she felt as if she could burst out of it. If feeling so flamingly were a sin, then she prayed to the Gods they took mercy on her soul.

And so Myria turned around, and sat on his lap, pressing her breasts against his bare chest, her lips against his own.

“I love you,” she whispered, in a serious voice, staring deep into his eye, “I love you so much, thinking about what might have happened if your father hadn’t suggested we get married always manages to bring me to tears. I can’t live without you, Aemond.”

Aemond couldn’t but stare back at her, knowing his gaze matched his wife’s, loving and full of adoration. He felt as though his body was being torn open. His whole life he had succeeded in keeping such a thing locked, key thrown into the ocean, to where no soul could reach. But Myria had somehow managed to make her way through it; and he felt entirely defenceless to her. Every smile, every laughter, every touch, every word that came from her pierced through his chest, leaving his heart in the open, all for her to take if she desired so.

She didn’t want a world without him, but the inverse cut his ability to breathe. He couldn’t live without her.

“We will always burn together.” He promised her, kissing her knuckles. “Avy jorrāelan, my Myr.”

That wasn’t the first time Myria had heard him dedicate her such words in Valyrian, but that was the first time she could tell, without a single doubt, what they meant. She grabbed his head with both her hands, and left a kiss on his lips, sealing their promise.

****

a/n: okay so smut is not my fort at all so i hope this wasn't too bad ahah. i didn't really do a proof read so it might get slightly edited within some days. as always, thank you so much for reading!

@cherryaemond

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