#I'm sure ill come with a name for this at some point

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, loan shark!price x reader part 1, fem!reader, afab!reader, noncon elements, manipulative price, implied violence (not reader), petting, almost(?) fingering - 3K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune massive thank you to @pricetagged for keeping me sane writing this

“Mr. Price-” you spoke up, fingers massaging into your temples. 

“Said you can call me John, Sweetheart.” the man interjected with a serious look. 

He was currently hanging your entire life over your head and he knew it, you most certainly were not going to call him by his first name. Noticing your reluctance, he shrugged and leaned back into your dining room chair.

“Look, I’ve been as kind as a man like me ought to be. Don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the loss, and I don't know how much longer you-” He sent a condescending look of concern your way, a hand fishing into his pocket. “-can take the fees. I’m playing the good guy here, y’gotta pay up, lovie.” 

“No smoking inside.” you warned, voice less confident than you would have liked it to be.

His hand paused in his coat before slipping out and up in a sign of surrender.

There was a buzzing silence between the two of you, only interrupted by the occasional tick of your kitchen clock. It was hard to meet his gaze, eyes rooted downwards towards your table under the weight of your rising debt to one of the most notorious men in the city.

“Right then.” he huffed, palms coming down to rest on the table before twitching upwards. “So?” 

“Give me another month to pull something together.” you spoke, wincing when you caught the way his eyebrows quirked in surprise. “-Please?”

There was no telling a man like John Price what would be happening. He was the shot caller, the unequivocal card dealer, it was only by some higher grace that he let your ill manners slip. 

He grumbled for a moment before looking up. “I respect what you’ve got going on in the shop, I do. Lovely place, good atmosphere—we’re both the entrepreneurial type, so to say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for you-” the thought that he’d lump your small shop in with his exploitative business made your stomach turn. “-but this is a bit much, yeah? Let’s give it up, sweetheart.” 

Your face twisted into a sharp grimace, but that was all you could do—what right did you have to tell the man whose money you were living off of to get out of your house? Even worse, you hated that he had a point; you were so tired of your lackluster sales and mounting bills, but-

“I’m not the only owner, I-I can’t just make decisions like that.” you reasoned.

He looked incredibly unimpressed, nostrils flaring with a dissatisfied huff. “Right, your business partner.” 

“H-he-”

“If it’s what you want, m’sure he’ll understand,” Mr. Price hummed, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ll find my men and I can be quite persuasive.” 

Registering your cautious demeanor, his lips curled upwards.

“Where is the bloke anyway?” John asked in faux-disinterest, disapproval blooming from his tone. “Always sends you to talk to the big mean lender. S’not right.” 

He shook his head and sighed.

“-Seen this play out before, love. He’s throwing you under the bus.” 

Your mouth shut, hard set into a frown—you knew he was right. Your business partner was most likely enjoying his morning in peace knowing it was your apartment above the building—your life about to be uprooted if it all went tits-up. It was hard not to feel played.

Mr. Price’s gaze glimmered in recognition, and slowly, like a languid predator, he was leaning across the table with a large hand over your own. 

You studied the sparse dusting of translucent hair on his fingers, the trimmed nails at the ends of his stocky fingers, his nice, expensive-looking watch—anything not to meet his eyes. 

“S’not worth it,” he urged softly. “spreading yourself thin like this.” he paused to think. “My advice? Liquidate, I'm sure you and I can work something out in the long term.”

You swallowed, throat feeling impossibly dry as you focused on the twitch of his thumb.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“I don’t want to be the bad guy, but business is business, sweetheart—I’m offering you a hand, it’s in your best interest to take it.” he spoke, palm patting over your digits before withdrawing into his pocket. There was a deep breath drawn in through his lips. “Right, I’ll be off then—Unless you want me over for lunch?” 

He chuckled deeply in solus as he stood, reminding you of a proud and awful beast. “Maybe another time then, love.” 

Ideally not.

-

The shop had closed on another unnoteworthy day, only serving to further hammer in Mr. Price’s point. With defeated footfall on the stairs up to your flat, you nearly slipped, shocked by a fist beating on the front door frantically. You slowly turned around, heart pounding from the sound.

“-Christ! Let me in!” Ewan, your business partner cried out from the other side of the threshold.

You hurried to the door; pushed aside as soon as the lock had released.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you scolded over the shop door’s welcome chime. You were met without response while the man darted for the till. “What are you-”

“Not now,” he growled. “we need to get out of here.” 

Studying him closer, you realized one of his arms had been held up by a makeshift sling, tucked neatly beneath his quilted coat.

“W-what are you talking about?”

He paused, looking up. 

Your eyes widened when the light from the street outside washed over his face. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” he snarled, freshly dried blood crusting at the movement. His head dipped down as he popped open the till. “Price and his dogs want our heads.” 

“I just spoke to him this morning-” 

“Things change—may have pushed our luck a little too far. We’ve got to get out of town.” 

You frowned “I-I can’t just-” 

“Suit yourself.” he snapped, voice dropping to a mumble while his fingers grabbed at whatever they could, stuffing it into his coat pocket haphazardly. “-Sitting duck.”

“Wait—that's our money.” you balked, watching the empty register drawer shut. He offered you a bloody, tight-lipped smile as he sped past you towards the door; in and out like a typhoon.

“Good luck.”

You were stuck where you stood when the door swung shut, absolutely beside yourself in shock as you watched his figure disappear from view into the night. Looking around your shop, it was just as it had been when you closed up, but the knowledge that you were sitting on an empty till, all alone with the looming threat of a less-than-savory money lender finding out you were back to square one for your upcoming payment was not kind as it crashed into you. 

After a sobering moment, you hobbled over to the point of sales, turning the drawer’s lock tentatively. Of course, the tray was as empty as the day you had bought it, save for a spare coin roll shoved into the side. You stared down at the dark plastic, hand clumsily digging into your pocket for your phone. Swiping at the device, you paused, debating for a moment over whether or not to open the banking app; you already knew what you’d see if you did.

Confirming your fears, the log showed a hefty transaction at the branch earlier that day. The account had been emptied right before the banks closed. 

You had nothing to give John Price.

It was all gone.

You stared at your feet while it sunk in. Slowly, you regained the ability to move, making your way over to the shop door and locking it back up before spinning on your heels. The trip upstairs was eerily silent as you slipped into your flat, legs wobbling as you ambled into your washroom and stepped under the hot stream from your showerhead. You let the water run over you for far longer than necessary, only stepping out onto the frigid tile once your fingers had pruned. 

The dinner prep that followed had gone surprisingly smooth, serving as a vessel to pretend the foundation of your life wasn't crumbling away. You replayed comforting thoughts, words passing through your mind like a liferaft just out of reach– you knew Mr. Price, he always spoke gently to you, he would understand, he-

A fat tear fell onto the hand that braced you over the stove, watching the bubbling pasta through bleary eyes. With a shaking grip, you drained the water and slipped the noodles into your saucepan, stirring and sniffling lamely.

You made too much—you had nothing to give and you had made too much. Typical.

Sitting at your table, you ate in near-silence, listening to your clock’s soft ticking as you tried to ignore the afterburn image of Mr. Price across from you where he had sat that morning.

Your fork paused mid-air when the downstairs shop chime rang out. 

Had Ewan come to his senses? 

You closed your eyes and waited for him to call up to you. 

The stark sound of heavy footfall bustling around the lower level was the first thing to alert you to the intrusion—too much noise for one man. Setting down your fork, you stared owlishly at the door to your flat as if it was the last line of defense between you and whatever was happening down there. Through the muffled commotion, you could faintly make out the creak of your stairs getting louder—closer, you watched helplessly as the knob slowly turned.

The door opened a fraction, a thick hand curling around the side to brace it against the three thunderous knocks that echoed throughout the room.

“Come in.” you spoke up once your heartbeat had evened out, blinking as Mr. Price emerged from the dark stairway.

“Mmh, you’re here.” he stared down at you, a pleased rumble rolling around in his chest. “‘Course you didn’t skip town, smart. Good girl.”

He kicked his boots off and drifted through your kitchen; cabinets and drawers clattering behind you while he whistled breathily, dishing up some pasta as if you had made it for him—you do suppose he had every right to, though. 

Your whole body tensed as a palm ghosted across your back. The plate was set down, and the chair beside you was tugged out from beneath the table. 

Your eyes darted to his dish where it sat, steam trailing fragrantly. Mr. Price tucked in, humming lowly despite his tense demeanor. 

“S’good, Love. eat up.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed your fork, gaze falling back to your dish as you picked at the food, appetite long gone. Once again, it was you, Mr. Price, and the sounds of your kitchen—an unwelcome sense of Deja Vu creeping in. 

“Your money’s gone.” you whispered, unable to stand the silence.

He reached towards you, grabbing your napkin, and patting his mouth. “I know.” he scratched at his beard idly. “My boys are dealing with that.” 

You paled, trying not to think about what would happen to your business partner as you watched Mr.Price fuss with his fork, leaning in to take another large bite; a nauseated feeling washing over you. 

“What's going to happen to me?” you murmured, eyes downcast. 

His fork clattered quietly against his plate as his hand came to rest on the back of your neck, thumb petting at your nape. “That’s what I'm here to sort out, sweetheart.” 

Sort out. It was ugly, spoken as if you were just one of his assets. You nodded; compliance met with a soft, affirming squeeze. 

“We can work something out.” his hand traveled downwards, grazing your arm before landing on the meat of your thigh. “I don’t have to be the bad guy.” 

“Mr. Price..” you spoke after a sharp breath, tears threatening to well up. 

You missed the way his eyes crinkled at your weepy tone, thumb brushing your thigh in comfort. 

“I’ve had my eye on you, love—Would have never lent you as much as I did if I wasn't sweet on you. Thought maybe I’d be able to charm my way into your life but it seems like I only see you when you’re late on a payment.” he laughed hoarsely. A knee knocked into yours as he stood; his chair scraping beneath him. The floor creaked under bulk, two large hands coming to rub at your arms with hot breath and trimmed beard tickling at your ear. “-I’m a hopeless romantic, y’see.” 

“Price!” a voice hollered up, causing the man to straighten with a low growl. 

“What?” he barked, voice aimed downstairs.

“Trucks loaded up, gonna head back to the office, yeah? See if Simon needs any help retrieving the cash.” 

His hands flexed around your shoulders. “Good, lock up behind yourself. I’ll be a bit.”

You froze, looking up to see the looming shadow of a man; profile distinct in the low light. He turned to you, offering a tight grin while a wayward hand trailed from your arm to your neck, caressing the skin as he exhaled deeply behind you, resting your head against his abdomen. 

“It’s okay to give in, love.” he cooed. “Let me take care of it all.” 

You had nearly folded when that little prey animal in your brain stiffened, hackles raising. You stood carefully, sidestepping his grasp.

“No, I-I… I couldn’t impose… It’s alright.” you silently begged for him to understand your polite refusal.

“S’not imposing,” he challenged, glaring down at you. “imposing would be the number of zeroes on the sum you owe me—now you care about my burden?”

“That’s-”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart.” he laughed. “Now, sit back down.”

You complied, lowering back into the seat shamefully.

“Good.” he exhaled, crouching beside you with hands knotted together. “I always collect what’s owed, that’s one thing you need to understand.” 

You nodded.

“-But I’m not opposed to shouldering burdens where personal interest is involved.” His eyes searched your own desperately, palms unfurling to rest back on your legs. “You understand what I'm saying, yeah? You’ll never pay it off alone, let me help. I could take care of you.”

Overwhelmed, you turned away; the grip on your thighs tightening in response as he braced himself, standing up. A warm hand cradled your cheek as he drew your gaze upwards, free hand looping around your back and lifting you to stand against him like a marionette. 

“I don’t know what to do…” you sniffled as his big palm had begun to rub circles into your back. 

He shushed you. “-It’s okay, love. I can handle it, It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, turning and rubbing your face into his shirt as he comforted you. The entire situation was a disorienting experience. Had you done something so wrong to get here?– had it been a crime to want to live a gentle and quiet life in your shop? 

It was hard to care much for your sense of conviction when the root of your problem looked more like a finely woven cradle; what did it matter if you were to bend the knee to your devil’s appeal at this point? 

Still, it felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

“I’m scared.” your lips settled for, hiccuping the words into his chest. 

He hummed thoughtfully, the noise buzzing around the walls of your head as his thick arms hooked around your neck, pulling you in deeper—a trap set without any fuss. 

“It’s okay for you to be scared,” he pressed a kiss to your crown. “There’s no way anyone was getting out of those rates you agreed to, love. Let me help you.”

You stiffened, head raising slowly to look at him. He smiled down at you.

“You definitely won’t be taking care of our finances, yeah?” John joked, letting out a deep, phlegmy laugh before he pecked your nose, pulling you back into his chest and rumbling against your head. “Enough nonsense. You’re tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

It was all so domestic—like he hadn’t just shown you his rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. 

His grip relented as he patted your bum. “Go on and get into bed, let me clean up dinner.”

-

So you did, brushing your teeth and feeling incredibly confused as to why you were readily complying. What truly got to you was how tender it felt—had you been so oblivious to his vying interest? You had just assumed he was a rare good-natured lender; though, you suppose neither of these had been true.

John Price was not a good man; although it was a recent revelation in the grand scheme of things, you knew this as a fact now. The other fact of the matter was that it seemed you were most likely the real collateral in the vulturine deal. Had he been playing the long game?

You could hear John floating around in the other room as you pulled an old shirt over your head to sleep in—the kitchen faucet running as you slipped into your bed. It all felt so wrong. 

Your eyes shot open when the bedroom’s aged floor creaked, deer-like paralysis keeping you snapshot-still as the ring of his belt buckle filled the static air. Was he—The rickety bed dipped behind you under John’s added weight, bedframe crying out with every shift of his body that came with tucking himself against you; achy grunts blowing out from his lips.

“Not as limber as I used to be.” he laughed modestly. “Still gets the job done though, I reckon.” 

He breathed for a moment before his nose dipped into the hair at your nape, sniffling around. 

“-Better than I imagined.” he grumbled contently.

Thick hands dipped under your shirt, massaging at the skin momentarily before slipping into your panties, tugging them out of the way. 

“Mr. Price.” you winced, feeling his cold hand on the sensitive skin.

his hands paused as the large man thought for a moment.

“Mrs. Price…” he chuckled after a beat, the hairs on your neck standing up in response. “-See? You don’t like it much, either. Now, what’s my name, love?”

“John.” you mumbled quietly, eyes darting around through the dark of your room.

“Mmh. good girl.” he hummed, hand cupping your cunt and thumbing at it absentmindedly. “Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow, yeah?” 

[captainsparklefingers]

It's always interesting when an old hyperfixation reemerges and hits you like a truck and drags you back into it, especially when the other currently active fixations don't go away but sort of just get shuffled around.

Like. I'm still working on Unhappy Families, and I've started to feel the flow coming back (not for 1947, unfortunately, THAT chapter still refuses to cooperate)...but suddenly the Sonic movie comes out and beats me with the 'youve liked this since you were 11 and now youre gonna feel things again whether you want to or not' hammer. And the flow is now split between the thing I want to/should work on...and a stupid dumb au idea that I shouldn't do anything with but can't stop thinking about.

So, to get it out of my system, let me tell y'all about my Maria Robotnik lives au, where a tragic lab accident does what it does in comics instead of in real life (aka: so now you have superpowers and a dash of Captain America-esque 'man outta time' vibes).

Lemme go ahead and shove this under a cut and get this out of my head for now. It's 1230 in the morning, my cat is draped all over me like a fuzzy heated weighted blanket, I can't sleep, my brain is going weird places, let's roll with it.

Spoilers for the Sonic movies (particularly the 3rd one).

OKAY SO.

We don't see what actually killed Maria in the movie. I mean, yes, it's the explosion of chaos energy caused by an errant shot, but the specific thing that kills her isn't shown. Could be a blow to the head or traumatic internal injuries, nothing good, but nothing as direct and obvious as a shot to the back like in the games.

And many a fictional individual has been 'blessed' with superpowers following a lab accident or exposure to radiation/mysterious energies/etc. I think you can see where I'm going with this. I mean this is a world with alien hedgehogs, teleportation rings, chaos emeralds, I think one can be allowed a little wiggle room in the name of an au here.

SO. Boom. Explosion. Maria appears dead, her family is devastated and the seeds of revenge are planted,Gerald is carted off, Shadow is put into cryo, all that.

Maria's body is taken by GUN (presumably alongside those of anyone else who died), probably put in a morgue somewhere...aaand that's where she wakes up, screaming, unleashing a wave of Chaos energy that shorts out all electronics in the area, and promptly passes out again.

So. GUN is now in possession of a preteen girl who should be dead, WAS apparently dead, who was exposed to something they were studying and couldn't understand/found too dangerous to mess with, who now appears to have strange abilities that both have kept her alive, given her superpowers, and also seem to (at the moment) be physically taxing to the point of not being able to maintain consciousness for long periods of time.

SO LET'S STICK THE UNSTABLE SUPERPOWERED GIRL INTO CRYO TOO, because that seems to be the standard MO at GUN for these sorts of things at the time. Walters, having been the one who made the call to put Shadow under, is given clearance here as well, as somebody who knew Maria before everything went horribly wrong. And maybe he feels guilty and responsible that this girl is going through this, because of the organization he works for, because he wasn't able to stop those men from pointing weapons at children with intent to fire. So, he lets her out every so often, giving her a chance to physically stabilize, to get an idea of what's been done and what she can do, and to let her know that she hasn't been forgotten.

(of course nobody tells her grandfather about this because why would they, this is all classified and he's a dangerous criminal element now.)

Maybe her memories of what happened are fuzzy. Years in and out of cryosleep following a comic book esque tragic origin story might do that to you. Maybe she's not fully aware of how long it's been, or the fact that she doesn't appear to be aging normally (is it the cryo sleep or the superpowers? Idk. Ask Steve Rogers, it was both with him ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯).

Anyway. Records slip through the cracks, particularly after information about Robotnik is purged by the government post first Sonic movie. And with her being more physically stable and having ways to channel this energy now (let's continue the family theme of science and robots here and make her a bit of a technomancer with machine buddies and robots she communicates with and channels power through, or something along those lines), her scheduled return to cryo sleep gets put off, and put off...

So we have a girl out of time literal computer wizard who's body can only handle so much of the energy it has going through it at once before exhausting her (it's not the same as having a terminal illness, obviously, but it'd be at least something to call back to the game character a bit), who's got patches in her memories, has (to her knowledge) lost her family and doesn't have anyone, who's whole existence is a bit of a cover-up to hide a civilian casualty...

Aaaaaand that's all I have right now. I'm trying to figure out what the best way to get her out of GUN would be while also not having her and Shadow cross paths/know about the other for a good long time (because I enjoy the angst of thinking your closest friend is long dead or gone and having to live on). I'm sure I'll figure out something, there was enough chaos caused by the events of the third movie that I could see her using it as a chance to break herself out.

I dunno. Maybe she ends up with Agent Stone for a bit since they've both lost somebody important. That could be fun. I'm sure there'd be some sort of dramatic reunion or something eventually, but that's all I have for now.

It really isn't much, and I don't want to take away from the impact her death had on Shadow or the importance of it to the story, but at the same time, I'm sort of enamored with this idea of this tween from the 70s who does computer magic and has exhaustion and pain who's trying to find a place in a world that literally forgot her and buried her 50 years ago.

(and maybe I want Stone to have a friend, too, after everything.)

(and maybe some dramatic meetings and reunions too, someday.)

[c0rpsedemon]

something abt realizing you're listening to someone sing for the last time really hits in an awful way

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”

Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”

“Wait, I’m just here to-”

“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”

Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.

“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.

“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”

Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”

“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”

Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.

“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”

“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.

“So, what brings you to Gotham?”

Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”

“You go to school?”

“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”

“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”

Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?

“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”

Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?

"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"

Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"

"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"

"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."

Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."

Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."

"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.

'Careful,' Black Bat signed.

"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"

Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.

'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.

"You know sign language?"

"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."

He knew ghost-sign first, after all.

"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."

----

Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.

"You two can come back anytime."

Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.

"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."

"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"

"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."

Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.

----

"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"

Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.

"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."

"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.

"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"

"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.

"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.

"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"

"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"

[reallyromealone]

Can you do a long fic where bakugou has a baby brother like maybe 2 years old?

Title: sibling bonding

Fandom:my hero Academia

Warnings: male reader, baby reader, fluff, big brother Bakugo, soft Bakugo

Notes: I can't promise a long fic as my fic lengths are based off of how much steam I have but ill write what I can

☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️

Bakugo was happy to have the house mostly alone, his parents in Milan for two weeks he had off for a fashion show.

Why was he mostly alone?

Well they couldn't take his little brother, the two year old didn't do planes well and it was just easier to find a sitter or let him stay with someone for the time, usually their aunty. "Uh-oh" (name) said as he dropped his sippy cup carefully lifting it back up before wandering to his brother "ka!" He said happily as he climbed onto the couch "what squirt?" Katsuki said to the young tot who looked at his phone "what do?" He asked as Katsuki got notifications from discord "I'm texting a few friends, they're coming to visit later for a movie" he was always so soft with his brother, sure he was loud as the rest of his family but his baby brother took more after their dad so he always tried to be gentle.

"Oovee?" He asked curiously and Katsuki nodded "yeah a movie, we gotta get some snacks for you and me before it" he said to the boy who smiled "cake!" "No cake but we can get you a cake pop when we get our walk home drink" Katsuki knew how to compromise with the boy who clapped his hands excitedly.

Katsuki helped (name) put on his shoes before putting him on his shoulders, it was easier to do than hold his hands and (name) got to have fun.

The two went to the convenience store as (name) pointed to various snacks, Katsuki having to hinder the boy with the fact he wanted /everything/ the store had to offer but did compromise with some ice cream and little treats for after dinner and such.

"Cake!" (Name) was absolutely thrilled when Katsuki handed him a cake pop, the teen holding the snacks with one hand and had (name) on his hip as they walked home, (name) eating his treat contently, the boy taking a sip from their drink occasionally.

(Name) loved helping his brother, the tot getting to help put things together for the hang out "you get to watch a movie then it's bath time alright?" Katsuki said to his brother who did a little dance before running off to go play with his toys 'weird kid' Katsuki thought fondly as he finished prep.

"YOOOO BAKUBRO!" Kirishima said as he and a few other classmates entered the Bakugo house, Kaminari whistling at how nice it was inside "whose ready to paaaarty!" Mina said as her, ochaco and Momo came inside with snacks "let's watch some scary...shoopuff" mina halted when she saw the two year old in Katsukis arms, little (name) looking curious but recognized Kirishima from a few visits "little man!" Kirishima ran and grabbed the boy and lifted him "what's up!"

"Hiiii!"

"Whose the kid?" Kaminari asked as (name) spoke nonsense to Kirishima but it was probably his day if any context about "walk" and "cake pop" were to go off of "that's my brother" Katsuki said gruffly, a slight glare on his face as his friends looked at the babe curiously.

During the movie, the teens would notice Bakugo would be soft with the boy even when he scolded him "oi, leave that alone" "but you're smelly!" (Name) argued back, holding a book in his hands "put it down and park your ass and watch the movie or its night time" Bakugo said to his brother who huffed but complied "you're not my favorite brother anymore!"

"Ah? And who is?"

"Dad!"

The movie went on well, the group putting on a hero movie and before they knew it, it was (name)s bath time "bubububbub!" (Name) was pleased with the bubbles as he played with his toys, his older brother working around him to wash him "head back" the teen said gruffly as he put a visor on the boys forehead and rinced out the shampoo before repeating it with the conditioner "kaa! Ducky!" The boy squirted some water at his brother who rolled his eyes "wanna see something cool?" He asked his little brother who looked curious "ya!'

Katsuki put his hand in the water and activated his quirk, just enough to give a jacuzzi affect "whoa!" The boy said excitedly as Katsuki pulled his hand out "now, out ya go!"

"Nooo!"

"None of that! Come on, let's brush your fucking teeth and get you to bed brat"

(Name) cuddled into his brothers shoulder as he wore his fuzzy pajamas, the other teens waving him goodnight as Katsuki brought him to his bedroom and tucked him into bed "hah? What's this?" Katsuki held up a small handmade plush of him in his hero suit "Die'ite!" (Name) grabbed the plush and Katsuki felt a small smile creep on his face as his little brother hugged the toy "he a hero you like?"

"He's the bestest!"

[chiumii]

church ~ enha x reader

enhypen members as different chase atlantic's - 'church' lyrics !

enhypen x reader | smut , angst , cheating , fwb , sneaky link , daddy kink , pet names , cum eating , oral , praise , orgasm denial , over stimulation , more , not proof read , spelling mistakes to be expected , blah blah blah enjoy

LEE HEESEUNG ---- ♡

"you're wearing nothing but my tshirt - call me shallow but i'm only getting deeper"

seeing you clad in his shirt would normally make heeseung beyond happy . he's possessive - he absolutely loves it when you wear his clothes and he finds every opportunity to make sure everyone knows you're his - but this is definitely not one of those moments where he want's everyone to know such information

the way you hum some random song under you're breath while prancing around the kitchen is adorable. Heeseung chuckles to himself as he walks in through the front door after an agazoning day at work.

he sets his stuff down near the front door and loosens his suits tie before walking into the living room but quickly stops in his tracks once he realizes you're wearing one of his t-shirts...

but its not the t-shirt that throws him off, its what's underneath

well, lack of what's underneath

you're wearing nothing.

absolutely nothing as you twirl around the tiled kitchen, baking something.

heeseung chuckles to himself as you turn to face the counter, and lucky for him - he gets a perfect view of your plump ass as you bend over the counter in order to reach something from the top cabinet.

you feel hands snake around your body, perching themselves on your hips - keeping you in place. a soft gasp leaves your lips - not realizing that your boyfriend had come home from work

"hi baby , I didn't hear you come in" you say with a smile , but he doesn't say anything , nor does he move. you feel his face bury into the side of your neck , kissing your skin sweetly.

heeseung hums , the vibrations shooting down your body in ripples. one of his hands snakes down to the hem of the shirt your wearing , slipping up and underneath the fabric , his icy fingertips grazing your sternum and up until they cup one of your breasts.

"you know what you're doing , you and I both know this" heeseung bites down on your earlobe after whispering in you ear, sending shivers down your spine.

he's not lying , but the fact that he points it out to you makes your clit pulsate.

"prancing around the kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt like some kind of slut begging to be fucked against the counter" he pinches your nipple , hard - resulting in a yelp being ripped from your throat.

"couldnt even wait until I eat dinner hmm?" his other hand trails down from your hip to your clit, pressing his fingers against the bundle of nerves.

you whine at the contact, and heeseung can feel you clench around nothing.

"wanna dress like a slut ? I'll fuck you like one"

you don't know when he took his pants off, but you feel his cock slip into your needy hole , his tip pushing into you.

"h-hee" you whimper pathetically , his degrading tone making you feel hot.

"hmm, say my name again baby" he bites down on your shoulder , slowly pushing himself into you , but not all the way . his hands push you further up onto the counter , your feet almost dangling in the air as you press your tip-toes into the tile.

"h-heeseung-" you moan at the feeling of his dick slowly intruding into your walls

"that's it baby, say my name" he breathes into your ear , a low growl

and so you do

over and over again as he pushes his full length inside you , his tip kissing your cervix and passed that

deeper and deeper

inch by fucking inch

in that god damn shirt

PARK JONGSEONG ------ ♡

" ill keep you up until the sunset - speaking in tongues , yeah , we ain't done yet "

jay is normally so sweet in bed , so gentle and kind - he would leave featherlight kisses on your skin , his hands would massage every crease of your beautiful body - making sure to give you as much pleasure as humanly possible and even beyond.

so when you get home from an early morning brunch with one of your old friends , jay seems upset for some odd reason.. and you can't seem to pinpoint why.

"jay, what's wrong?" you ask him for the third time since coming home just short of thirty minutes ago. the clock strikes one fifteen , you having arrived home less than twenty minutes ago.

"when were you going to tell me you went out to see a man , y/n?" jay asks from the couch , aimlessly scrolling through his phone without even looking up at you - but his tone giving away how he feels ; he was upset , mad even. you didn't tell him it was one of your old friends from community college who happened to be a man.

a man with a whole fiancee . he was like a brother to you , hes the only reason you survived school - but you wanted to see just how jealous you could make him and oh what a dangerous game you decided to play.

"I didn't think it would matter , dont you trust me?" jay scoffs , rolling his eyes in response. you cross your arms over your chest , staring down at him.

"I trust you, baby- it's him I don't trust" he speaks , not looking up at you. irritation flows through your veins as you stare at him.

"yeah? you think I'd let him fuck me?" your sentence almost makes jay choke on his saliva - almost.

he looks up at you through his eyebrows, cocking them up in order to egg you on - questioning you. you mimic his actions , tilting your head to the side and raising your eyebrow , encouraging him to speak.

"would you?" he asks , amusement in his voice as he sets his phone down on the coffee table , his full attention on you now. you dont cower or shy away , deciding to play your final card before you unleash a side of him you have never seen before.

"and if I did?" jays final string of patients snaps as he stands up from the couch and slyly walks around it within less than a fraction of a second - so fast you ended up getting whiplash as he pushes your back against the cool wall , his hand wrapping around your throat in order to push your head back to look at him.

"than I guess I'd have to fuck you better now, hmm?" he tongues his cheek with a smirk before throwing you over his shoulder, walking down the hall and into your shared bedroom.

jay throws you onto the bed before hovering over you, gripping your face in his hands and squeezing your cheeks.

"I'll have to show you that being fucked like a whore is the only thing you're good for"

the two of you have been at it for house - well , he's been at it for hours.

edging you with his fingers and tongue , occasionally pressing his tip against your hole in order to get your hopes up before tearing it all down and edging you with his fingers once more.

your hands are up against the bed posts , restrained thanks to the black rope wrapped around your wrists so you can't touch your boyfriend. your legs are non-stop shaking as jay eats you out again , his tongue lapping at your puffy , sensitive clit that has you convulsing in overstimulation.

"j-jay please.." you whimper just above a whisper. your hands tug at the restraints for the nth time and you can feel your juices mixed with saliva run down your asscheeks and thighs to coat the bed underneath. jay chuckles into your pussy , the sound echoing through the chambers of your fucked-out mind.

he detaches from your bundle of nerves before roughly grabbing your throat , forcing you to look at him as his fingers bully their way inside your desperate pussy , sucking his digits in as if they were nothing .

"you wanna cum , sweetheart ? want daddy to let you cum ?" you frantically nod your head , your eyes pleading for release.

jay could never ever say no to you , no matter how hard he tries to be stern - you were his little angel and he would do anything for you.

"cum baby , you can cum now angel" your juices squirt all over his arm and bed at his words , your pussy fluttering around his digits as you arch your back up off the mattress , a squeal leaving your lips as pleasure rips through your body after all the torture he had coated all over your body.

after a moment of coming down from your high , you feel jays dick prod at your pussy. your eyes fling open and towards the window - it was beginning to get dark , the sun illuminating a dim glow over the horizon through the window as a gray begins to paint over the sky - it was late.

"j-jay pl-please I-" a moan cuts you off as he pushes his cock into your gummy walls , the shape of his dick engraving itself into your core. your legs shake and write under him - all jay does is chuckle at your attempts to escape

"you really thought I was done with you?"

SIM JAEHYUN ------ ♡

" and I'll keep leading you on , if you keep leading me into your room "

it was only supposed to be every other weekend.

it was supposed to be a no strings attached agreement.

Jake and you have never had a normal relationship , and with the rate it's going ; it never will be.

it started off as every other weekend. you would meet him at his apartment on Saturday at exactly 6 pm.

there would be absolutely no talking involved , he would fuck you deeply into the mattress for hours into the late night - calling you names and granting you orgasm after orgasm.

that was until he invited you to go with him to pick up some food one night after meeting up with him.

you knew deep down you shouldn't agree to go - how this would be the start to something that the both of you agreed to never spark

but you stupidly did it anyways.

you two chatted for hours over curry and endless sushi.

talking about how college was going, your family members, just life in general.

it ended up leading to Jake calling you every week asking you to come over. the two of you started with your face in the pillow screaming his name over and over in a sinful , devious chant that was swallowed into the secrets of his room and it ended with the two of you cuddling while watching movies.

it progressed into something even deeper - but hey , no strings were attached , no labels were involved right ?

oh how you wish it could be something more as you stared into jakes eyes - almost as if you were looking directly into his soul as he fucked you with your back pressed against your mattress , in your room , his hand cupping your cheek as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

this was different.

he was different with you.

he never fucked anyone in missionary - claiming it was too intimate.

he never went over to anyone else's place because he preferred to be in his own space.

but yet here you were ; your bodies one as he presses his cock deep inside your walls - his name dripping off his tongue so prettily.

it happened every other day now , he would call you and ask to come over or you would just invite him - lead him into your room with his hands all over your body , the exchangement of quiet kisses and moans that lead to you being pressed underneath him , his thrusts focused and concentrated as he works you to your orgasm - the way he would look at you as if you held his entire world.

you were absolutely convinced it was a look of love..

but that feeling of something more was stripped from you as you witnessed Jake flirting with another girl - tucking her hair behind her ear as he stared deeply into her eyes - the same way he looked into yours.

you tried to avoid him , you really did.

but it was hard when he had been calling non-stop for a week and a half - almost every hour of the day he would send you a text , asking if he could come over.

but it was Jake , and you were you .

you couldn't help but call him and tell him to come over

you missed his touch too much, you missed everything about him in that short week of ignoring and silence

but in this moment you were one as he has you on your back once more , your legs over his shoulders and your knees pressed on either side of your head.

"fuck you're so god damn beautiful baby , taking me so well" you moan at his words , his cock licking that sweet spot deep inside your core.

your choked out moans flow right into his ear , influencing his thrusts to quicken , his hips snapping against the flush of your ass in a perfect rhythm .

"god you drive me so fucking insane" he spoke truthfully. your pussy squeezes him , milks him completely dry at the two of you cum in unison - proving the two of you to be one singular being.

"Jake..?" you question as he puts his shoes on after getting dresses.

"I gotta go , I have something to do" he responds, not giving you the chance to question him.

"actually , I wanted to talk.." his ears perk up at your words , turning around to face you. you shyly look up at him through your eyelashes , your cheeks red in nervousness

"I wanted to talk... about us,,," Jake cocks his eyebrows up as he tongues his cheek in question.

"y/n.. baby there is no us.. you remember the agreement , dont you?" the reminder was agoning , like an alarm clock ripping you away from the warmth of your bed. he cups your cheek , his hands sweet and his words painful. like a dagger into your chest as it weighs down on your heart ;

heavy and dull.

you knew he was fucking another girl. he hadn't called you in around a week since that night. his neck had faint hickeys that you didn't leave and he would pass you in the hallways without giving you a second glance.

so you had decided that night when you called him , it would be the last . Jake answered your phone call with a smirk , knowing that you couldn't stay away.

he found it absolutely adorable how you couldn't resist him , be away from him. he was like your personal drug that you didn't even have any knowledge of

you were addicted and had no fucking clue.

Jake had your back against the mattress , his lips attached to your neck with one of his hands fondling your breasts as you moan into the silent air.

your back was arched off the mattress , clawing at jakes back - breaking the skin as you leave small drops of blood in your nails trail. Jake detached his lips from your hot skin , looking deeply into your eyes.

you wished he wouldn't - your eyes were glossy and your eyebrows were pinched together , breathy moans dripping off your tongue as he fucks into you deeply , the mattress rocking and your legs shaking.

you would normally be the one to hold and maintain eye contact - wanting to see him completely

but it was you who looked away, shutting your eyes as you turn your head to the side. it sounded like another choked moan , but in reality it was a sob that clawed its way out of your throat.

I love you

you wished you could say, with all your heart you wished

but you couldnt.

as the two of you cum in unison, Jake began to put his clothes back on again , signaling that he had to go.

that wasn't normal.

he would normally clean you off and either run you a bath, cuddle you, or ask you to go get food - his treat.

you felt like the rest of them ; you felt like a toy.

you felt used and neglected. you really thought something was different , you thought that there was a slight possibility - the small , dim ray of hope was completely gone now and all that was left was jakes expressionless face as he turns to look at you.

"I have to go" you didn't say anything - you didn't even look at him when he spoke to you , deciding to stare off into space - looking directly through the man standing in front of you.

"y/n?" you tilt your eyes up, looking up at him through your eyebrows

now it was your turn to possess the uninterested, expressionless look on your face , making Jake part his lips in confusion.

this was not you. and he doesn't like it.

at all.

Jake went to cup your cheek - and hell you even let him. his thumb rubbing your cheek gently as he stares into your eyes

but yours are completely blank. there is absolutely nothing there as he looks down into you. the prominent eyebags soiling your perfect skin under your eyes.

"I'll see you later baby"

"Jake, we really need to talk about us" you say quickly , looking at him with meaning - he couldnt escape this conversation

you were tired

"y/n please , you can't be serious - there is no us" his hand doesn't let go of your cheek as he pouts at you after speaking , finally reading you

"you didn't catch feelings , did you?" he questions with a small smirk gracing his lips. your silence was more than an answer as Jake explores your face. the truth was is that you had.

he had seen every bare and true aspect of who you are. he knows everything about you without being conscious of it. he has you in the palm of his hand

exactly where he wants you.

"cute.." it all he says before leaving your apartment - cold and empty , your bodies warmth being the only light in the entire apartment.

you had blocked him that night, deciding to completely rid of him in that moment in time.

perhaps he was in over his head , but your silence made him realize things about himself that he would have never even thought of

especially when he saw you smiling at other man - the same way you once smiled at him. talking with him , your nose scrunched up in a smile as giggles fill the air around him.

he had once thought that he had you in the palm of his hands

but it was the other way around.

you had an affect on him that no other woman had ever possessed. he had thought about you every day for the month of pain filled , regretful silence he had endured .

you would be a liar if you said you didn't miss him either. all the nights of darkness with your bed cold. you two had been together long enough that he had his specific side of the bed . you always left it blank , finding it too hard to sleep where he did.

you went to lay down , pattering across the living room floor before being forced into an abrupt stop thanks to harsh knocking at your door. you stood completely frozen , knowing who was on the other side.

if you let him in , you could never go back

you would be stuck in this endless loop that only resulted in pain.

Jake wanted to break that cycle as he stood outside your door. you staring at him from the other side , basically seeing through the wood and looking directly at him.

you couldn't invite him in - not like before.

but you couldn't resist him. you would give just about anything to be held by his gentle hands one more as his eyes explore your body , reading you as if you were the most perfect story to be read.

so your hand twisted the door knob , letting the cold air into your apartment - a chill running up your spine at the sight of jakes disheveled appearance. his hair was a mess and he was in his pajamas. his appearance made you fuck all things as every ounce of morality left your body

"Jake.." your voice trailed off into silence, carried away by the wind as the two of you stared at each other.

"y/n please"

that cycle would never be broken as you pull him back into the warmth of your bed.

PARK SUNGHOON ------ ♡

" don't take my verses out of context - I know its weighing on your conscience "

you knew it was wrong

you knew you weren't supposed to be doing this but fuck did it feel so right to be laying under sunghoon's naked , sweaty body as he drove his cock further into your fucked out pussy - all thoughts of your boyfriend completely leaving your head and the only thing left was how good sunghoon was making you feel.

"does he fuck you this good baby?" you shake your head no, tears brimming around the corners of your eyes as you moan in response.

"n-no.." you shyly reply , your legs shaking in his firm grip as his hips snap against yours - setting a steady rhythm that has you seeing stars.

"tell me im the only one , tell me how much of a fucking slut you are for me" you whimper aft his cruel words , but let go of your lip inbetween your teeth as you speak

"y-you're the only one, o-nly y-ou hoonie a-aah" you finish with a whimper as he slaps your ass , making you squeal and jump in his hold.

your boyfriend thought that sunghoon was your best friend, that you went over to his apartment to study for an upcoming exam but here you were ; folded in on yourself as he drives his dick inside your gummy , sensitive walls and up to kiss your cervix sweetly.

you spoke honestly , only sunghoon could fuck you this good - manipulate your body into anything he wants. every time your boyfriend would fuck you - you imagined it was sunghoon instead every single time without fail. knowing that he did it better.

"who owns you baby , who owns this fucking pussy" he speaks harshy , his thrusts never letting up as you arch your back into the air , your legs spreading for him even further.

"y-yo-u do..." your voice trails off as you shut your eyes tight , the tears springing free as you scratch at sunghoons back. your words aren't enough for him as he grips your chin with one of his hands , forcing your eyes to open and lock with his.

"what was that baby ? I didn't quite hear you" he taunts , making you whimper into him. high-pitched mewls replace your loud moans , curling up into your best friend as you give him the answer he's looking for

"daddy does.." your words make him smirk as he lands another harsh smack to your ass , making you jump in his hold.

"damn right I do" his hips snap against yours more roughly as you fall apart on his cock that splits you in half , coming to your orgasm as you cream all over his dick - a mess to clean up later. sunghoon cums inside you right after , stilling inside you as he shoots his white ropes deep into your abdomen.

after a moment , he slowly pulls himself out - but not before leaning over to grab his phone to snap a quick picture of him half way inside you , both of your guys' fluids messily dripping out of your pussy and down your ass to stain the bed underneath.

you know where that's going later - straight into your messages as a reminder of who fucks you best

of who truly owns you. he'll send it over to you without warning , completely catching you off guard as your face turns red

your boyfriend will ask you whats wrong , and you'll wave him off by saying its nothing

the guilt will lay heavy later - but fuck that right now.

sunghoon cleans you up and helps you get dressed - and as he makes his way into the bathroom to shower , you check your phone to see who texted you

it was your boyfriend , and the message read

'I'll see you later baby , I hope you're having a good time studying with sunghoon ♡" he was so sweet that it made you physically sick , you quickly messaged him back before setting your phone back down onto the table before making your way into the bathroom . you strip your clothes off before entering the shower with him.

sunghoon smirks down at you as he takes his body wash into his hands.

"guilty yet?" he asks , making you look down at the bathtub floor in embarrassment - giving him his answer.

sunghoon grabs the sides of your waist , coating your body in bubblely body wash as his hands explore your naked , wet body.

you moan at the feeling of his big hands kneeding your plump ass. sunghoon leans down so his lips can capture yours in a heated kiss. and right before you can wrap your arms around his shoulders , he spins your body around and pins your front up against the cold tile wall , your nipples hardening and your breasts flattening.

you hiss at the rough cold as one of his hands snakes down your body and inbetween your thighs in order to press up against your clit , and the other grabs one of your legs , hooking his arm underneath your knee in order to hoist it into the air , giving him a better angle.

"let me ease that guilt baby , yeah?" he says before kissing your neck , but not leaving any marks.

every ounce of guilt leaves your body as his cock sinks into you , your pussy clenching down on his length as you moan his name , the soapy water running down inbetween your bodies as he fucks you into the wall.

and as you run home afterwards , cursing at yourself for leaving so late at night - you know the guilt of letting sunghoon use your body in any way he wanted would be the only thing on your mind as your boyfriend greets you at the door , kissing your cheek before walking into the kitchen to make you a plate of dinner.

you open your phone as a message pops up in your notifications , but quickly turn it off as you see it was an image from sunghoon.

KIM SUNOO ------ ♡

" baptize in your thighs 'til it hurts - cause i'm about to take you back to church "

if there is one thing you know about sunoo , its the fact that when he eats you out ; he is absolutely ruthless. he either wont let you cum until you're literally about to pass out from the edging - or he will make you cum too many times until you're begging him to stop.

he absolutely loves it when your legs shake in his hands , his tongue working you until your body is completely limp on the bed and all that can be heard from you are desperate mewls and quiet whimpers of his name.

he loves the power he possess over you - that he can make you go absolutely fucking stupid just from his tongue. he could eat you out for hours on end and even past that. but tonight he really wants to test the waters as his tongue starts working at you for the thirteenth time tonight.

he's been switching from edging you and denying you the satisfaction of orgasming - to forcing you to cum on his tongue thanks to the overstimulation. every time you think he's about to pull away from inbetween your thighs after granting you release ; he dives right back inside your core to work his magic once more.

"s-sun p-lease.." you beg , your voice just above a whisper as your body lay completely limp underneath his hold. sunoo's hands rest on your hips - his arms looped under your legs that are flung over his shoulders that also lay completely limp in his hold.

he originally had his hands holding your hips down onto the mattress so that you couldn't move - but now they trace gentle circles that don't add up to anywhere near the assault he grants onto your puffy - overstimulated clit.

"you can take it baby" he chuckles into your wet pussy , the vibrations of his voice shoot lightening throughout your entire body - making you convulse underneath him.

sunoo's eyes wides as you begin to jump , your body basically taking fucking screenshots as his lips wrap around your clit - sucking down harshly on your mound of sensitive nerves. your hands fly up into his hair and despite his hands being on your hips , you grind your heat down onto his face - not caring if your rubbing yourself all over his pretty self.

all you can seem to think about is sunoo's fucking tongue and how its working against you. your hips rock into his face and sunoo's face is completely in shock as you fuck yourself on him - your juices smearing all over his nose , cheeks and chin that drip down onto the bed beneath your bodies'.

sunoo takes this opportunity to slip two of his long fingers into your sopping hole , instantly curling up in order to find your sweet spot. a loud squeal leaves your throat and your hands detach from his hair in order to grip the wet sheets on either side of your body.

the duality of sunoo's tongue and fingers has you completely mind - fucked and dumb , your mind going completely blank and your moans quieting down to nothing as you squirt all over his face. sunoo gasps at you , his mouth not faltering his actions.

he looks at you with adoration , your thirteenth orgasm coming to a slow finish as your breathing is quick and shallow. sunoo detaches from your clit in order to get a good look at you ; the sweat that coats your body illuminates your skin in a glow thanks to the sun casting down through the curtains of your window , your hair is tangled and messy and there are prominent goosebumps trailing everywhere on your pretty figure.

just as you think its over , a harsh slap to your clit makes you jump. you go to look over at sunoo and as you do ; you dont recognize your boyfriend . all you see is a sinful fucking monster in front of you - that shit - eating grin you've come accustomed to seeing staring right back at you.

"I'm not done with you yet" he says before his fingers plunge their way into your tight pussy once more - his head lowering down so his lips can suck around your swollen clit.

a scream erupts from the back of your throat , but you can't buck your hips forward as sunoo's hand rests on your abdomen - keeping your ass down onto the mattress.

the pleasure he grabs you on your clit is beginning to sting - but neither of you care as your moans pick up volume , influencing sunoo to continue on into the long , messy hours of the night.

YANG JUNGWON ------ ♡

" stay on the ground until your knees hurt - no more praying baby i'ma be your preacher "

jungwon normally loves it when hes control - he prefers it really. but when you look up at him with those big doe eyes through your lashes - he can't help but coo at your adorable attempt to have him fall apart underneath you.

as you sink to your knees , you look up at jungwon with peading eyes and pouty , glossed lips . jungwon looks down at you with a small smirk gracing his lips , maintaining eye contact with you - even as you unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down around his ankles.

"you're so pretty on your knees for me" jungwons words vibrate throughout your entire body , making a shiver run up your spine . as you kitten-lick his tip , you jump a little as you feel his hands in your hair , ushering you to take him into your mouth - so you do . your tongue massages the underside of his shaft - licking the thick vein that has him shuddering under your touch.

it doesn't take long for your boyfriend to be fucking your face - his hands tangled completely in your hair as he thrusts his hips into your face. your nose presses against his pelvis with every rut of his hips into your face. the disgusting gagging sounds that sound from right under his body fill the small apartment alongside his moans that fuel you to keep going - despite almost being choked out on his lengthy cock.

your saliva mixes with jungwons precum that leak out the side of your mouth and down your chin in order to drip down onto the couch cautions below. your hands reach up to grab jungwons thighs , your manicured nails digging into his skin.

your lipgloss smears down his cock , staining it a pretty , faint pink color that matches your rosy cheeks. you feel jungwons dick twitch in your mouth - so its no surprise that he pushes your face down onto his dick , your nose pressing up against his pelvis bone - cutting off all of your supply of air .

you choke around his dick as he shoots his white ropes of cum deep down your sore throat. you slap his thighs - begging for air as you look up at him with teary eyes - the wetness staining your cheeks as they create streams in your foundation , your mascara smearing slightly under your eyes .

jungwon thinks your the cutest like this ; his cock down your throat with his hands in your hair , tears streaming down your face as your makeup smears - completely fucked out around his dick without even touching you in the ways you want .

but that's not enough for jungwon - he wants to see you completely fall apart with bruised knees and a sore throat so bad that you wont even be able to talk.

so he takes your head in his hands for the fourth time that night and forces his dick into your mouth , your mascara smeared down your cheeks - you attempt to breathe in through your nose , but it stings as he continues his assault down your throat.

you groan around his length , his cum drips out the sides of your mouth to dribble down your chin. your throat and mouth have a weird texture due to all the salty cum you've been swallowing but fuck was it all worth it to see the godly sight above you - jungwons head was thrown back as his adams apple bobbing up and down as sinful , loud moans drip off his pretty , full lips .

the praise he was gifting you also fueled your continuation of your hollowed cheeks as you suck around his cock , saying things such as

"such a good fucking girl , on your knees for me" ,

"my beautiful angel"

"takin' my cock so well, fuck"

and so many other nasty things he says makes your ego sky rocket. your tongue works slyly under his shaft, making his fingers tighten in your hair , his grip unbearable. his tightening signals to you that hes close to cumming again. he pushes your face down onto him, your nose pressing up against his pelvis bone that cuts off your air supply.

your knees dig into the ground as he shoots his last load down your throat , his ropes of cum you automatically swallow. jungwon throws his head back as a particularly loud groan bounces off the walls of your shared apartment that flow right into your ears as if it were music.

soon enough , jungwon pulls you off of his dick before standing you up. but thanks to how long you've been on the ground for , your legs give out - jungwon catching you in the process . you look down at your knees , noting the bright redness on your skin that matches your warm cheeks .

jungwon follows your line of sight , a smirk gracing his mouth . he picks you up into the air bridal style , a squeal followed by a stream of giggles sounds from you .

"won what are you doing" you smile at him as walks you over to your shared room, kicking open the door before laying you down onto the mattress.

"rewarding you for being my good little cum slut , how about that hmm?"

[lxvebun]

you are every lovely word I could think of

synopsis: the mighty king of curses is suffering from a bad case of love sickness<3

content: sukuna x gender neutral reader. FLUFF!! He's so in love with you<33. Around 500 words. Eng isnt my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes♡ not entirely proofread

Sukuna’s ways are faltering. He feels weakened. He’s ill, that's for sure. For a moment, Sukuna thinks this might be the end for him—that this realm has finally found a way to light the darkness and cleanse the rot that is Sukuna Ryomen. King of Curses to some, abomination of nature to most.

And it's all your fault.

He's not entirely sure what kind of divine power your soul carries, but even the simplest things—like the lull of your voice when you speak his name, sweet and syrupy, full of light—are enough to make his cold, dead heart stir once more.  His heart struggling and faltering at times as it tries to beat in sync with yours

It’s a strange sensation, feeling his heart beat again. A deep hum in his chest that almost sounds like your name.  The last time he remembers it happening is so long ago that the memory feels distant, fractured and unreal, like something out of a dream. But he is aware that it beats more warmly, more proudly, than it ever has before. And it's terrifyingly human.

It makes him sick.

Because it’s not the only thing you've changed. The way his voice stutters when you meet his eyes, the hitch in his throat, the molten heat that rushes through his veins—it's all foreign. Unfamiliar. Vulnerable 

It’s a disease, one he can feel creeping through every part of him, infecting and weaving through the darkest corners of his soul. It pumps feverishly through his veins, into his heart, and it’s all because of you. And yet… he cannot bring himself to fight it. At this point, he’s willingly losing, even against his better judgment.

It’s not just Sukuna who notices the shift within himself. Of course, Uraume would, too. Sukuna can tell by the way they’ve been tiptoeing around him these last few days—sentences cut short and overly polite,  eyes cast downward. He puts an end to it one night, after returning from seeing you. Coming back a little more disheveled than when he left, a permanent blush staining his ears and cheeks, making the intimidating expression on his face seem much less terrifying.

"Welcome back, Sukuna," Uraume says quietly. And Sukuna has had enough.

"Look at me." His tone is commanding, but there’s a faint trace of something tender.

"Raise your head and speak your mind, Uraume. I taught you better than that. You've noticed something. Tell me."

There’s a long pause, and then Uraume, with a hesitant glance, mutters, "I think... I think that you’re in love."

Sukuna thinks they might be right.

Thank you for reading!<3

[thewidowsledger]

Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 4: A Piece Of You | 4.0k

© thewidowsledger - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: The once secret, a forbidden love hidden from the world. Those stolen moments together had been thrilling, but ultimately, drove the person you truly love away from you. But when she left, she didn't just leave you; she also left you a part of herself that would constantly remind you of her for the rest of your life. This fragment of her essence became an indelible mark on your soul, shaping the course of your life in ways you never could have imagined.

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: +18 ANGST, cheating, smoking, smut but it was kind of cut off so it's just smu— pls laugh guys

Author's Note: This is about to get ANGSTIER. Nat's pain is valid but is her actions justifiable? Does r deserve all that? Pls pls pls I want to have y'all's thoughts, leave it in my inbox or in the comments or else I will not continue writing this jk i'm not joking. I removed some parts here that I think would be a better use on the next chapter that will be posted in 3 weeks (I know it's gonna be a long wait, but I've got to update the mob boss au and I've got to serve some angst fics for y'all)

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⧗

You're leaning over the counter, trying to read and sign the slip for Aliah's exams. You're terrible right now, you didn't realize how private schools can be so complicated that you have to sign a permission slip before they let your daughter take an exam. Suddenly, someone peers over your shoulder.

"You don't even know what you're signing, do you?"

This bitch.

You didn't look entirely at the woman but you saw her in your peripheral vision. You returned your focus on filling up whatever paper you are filling up.

But suddenly the woman leans in closer, her musky perfume overwhelming your senses. She effortlessly points out the correct line, her long fingers tapping the paper. "Is your child a transferee?" she asked and you nodded nervously.

"Check that one, then don't write anything down here." You gulped and nodded before shakingly dragging your hands to do whatever she just said.

When everything was signed, you double checked to make sure to get everything right this time. You push it towards the clerk, who scans it quickly. "All done, Mrs. Romanoff," she says with a smile.

"Romanoff." You heard the woman behind you whisper. You finally turn to face her, your heart racing as you meet her gaze.

The woman stands tall, her blonde hair cut short and stylish, framing her square-shaped face. She's dressed in a black leather jacket, paired with jeans and combat boots, giving her an edgy, intimidating look. She holds your gaze for a moment longer before her gaze flickers to the wedding ring still on your finger. Her expression shifts slightly, becoming more calculated. "So, you're the wife of one of the big sponsors of this school? Natasha Romanoff?" She asks the question almost casually, but there's an underlying intensity in her tone. "The transportation tycoon?"

The mention of her name and the title made you feel a pang of discomfort. The word wife and the title of being Mrs. Romanoff suddenly feels like ill-fitting suits. Your marriage, after all, had been little more than a convenient arrangement—for your daughter. So you are not sure whether to confirm or not, so you just let out a small awkward smile hoping that she won't budge further about her question. And the blonde seemed to read between the lines that theories started to formulate in her mind. She was about to formally introduce herself when she saw a kid running towards your direction.

"Mommy!" She watched you scoop up a little girl that clearly is yours, giggling as you attacked her face with kisses.

Behind her was another girl, it was the blonde's niece, catching up. "Auntie!" The little girl waves, her gap-toothed smile wide. "Up!"

Without missing a beat, the blonde reaches down and scoops up the kid, tossing her playfully into the air before catching her. The kid squeals with delight. "Hey, monkey face," she says, ruffling the girl's curly hair. Then her kid glances at Aliah who was in your arms.

She grins, her eyes bright. "Auntie, this is my new friend, Aliah!" she announces proudly. You turned around so you and your daughter could face them together, then Aliah looked at the woman who was carrying her friend, her little hands waving with a grin.

Now, it's your daughter's turn to introduce her newfound friend to you, "Mommy, this is Monica!"

"Hi, Monica."

The blonde watches as you speak to Monica. She's mesmerized by the way you interact with the children, so gentle and natural. Monica giggles at your greeting, "Hi!" she chirps back, climbing down to her aunties grasp.

Aliah wriggles out of your arms, wanting to join Monica on the floor. The two girls run off together, laughing and chattering excitedly. Now, you're left standing alone with the blonde again. She clears her throat nervously, a slight flush creeping up her neck, "I hope I didn't overwhelm you with my question a while back."

You shake your head with a warm smile, waving off her apology with a casual flick of your wrist. "O-oh, no worries." Your voice is sincere, as you pull the strawberry shortcake trolley bag of your daughter towards you.

Over the years, even when Aliah wasn't transferred at this school, you had always been present and active—you're always there, quietly observing, helping when needed, but never seeking the spotlight or engaging in small talk with other parents.

You glance around the hallway, taking in the other parents chatting and laughing in small groups. This is unfamiliar territory for you. Despite your active involvement in Aliah's school life, you've managed to maintain a certain level of privacy, keeping to yourself and avoiding unnecessary interactions with others as much as possible. Especially now, being in this marriage under the convenience of your daughter and being in this new school, it has only reinforced your desire for privacy. You don't want others knowing your personal business.

"So, how is…your daughter adjusting?" her question pulled you out of your trance.

"She's doing well and she seemed to be adjusting quickly." You respond briefly, keeping your answer vague but positive. You don't elaborate further, not wanting to delve deeper into Aliah's personal life or yours and invite more questions. She seems genuinely nice. She's not trying to pry in a malicious way—she's just being friendly. But your private nature won't allow you to relax and chat casually like the others.

"That's good."

After the painfully awkward silence, there was a sudden impact of the ball against the blonde's head that made your lips twitch despite your usual guarded expression. She stumbles slightly from the impact "Oh my..." she mutters, rubbing her head.

"S-sorry…" you bashfully stuttered as she saw you trying to hold your laughter back.

But what you didn't know is that she smiles victoriously, pleased to have finally seen a crack on you. Then, she traps the ball between her feet skillfully, making you raise an eyebrow. She looks your way, catching your surprised expression. She smirks slightly, then kicks the ball high up in the air, sending it back to the students with perfect aim and unexpected strength.

"Show off." You murmured to yourself.

She overhears your quiet comment, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She adjusts the strap of her niece's bag, feigning ignorance but purposefully stepping closer to you. "Did you say something?" she asks teasingly, obviously enjoying your rare slip of emotion.

"N-no…" You giggled softly, you looked at her and she smiled.

"I should've introduced myself earlier but yeah, I'm Carol. Monica's aunt." She lends her hand over you.

"I-I'm Y/N…Aliah's mommy." Your small, hesitant hand disappears into her larger, calloused one.

She grins widely at your soft-spoken introduction. "Nice to meet you, Y/N." She smiled, gently releasing your hand. "So…I'll see you around?"

You didn't answer, your attention to her was long gone after you saw your daughter running towards your direction. You then fixed her trolley bag and prepared to leave.

Carol can only watch you and your daughter walk away, an unknowing smile playing on her lips. Then, all of a sudden a ball comes flying out of nowhere and hits her square in the back of the head again. She stumbles forward, letting out a loud "Ow!" and a string of curses under her breath.

"I'm not a fucking soccer goal net!"

"Auntie Carol, you said bad words!"

⧗

In the dining room, you and Aliah sit at the table, enjoying a quiet dinner together. Aliah chatters excitedly about her day, telling you all about the kids she played with and the games they played. You listen attentively, smiling at her enthusiasm, occasionally asking follow-up questions. You also made sure to ask her if someone or something is making her feel uncomfortable, it is a small routine you do with her to make sure she is comfortable and safe in school.

Aliah suddenly stops eating, her brow furrowing. She looks down at her plate, pushing her food around with her fork. You watch her carefully, knowing that look. She lifts her big, brown eyes to meet yours. "Where's Mama?"

As if on cue, her Aunt Yelena walked in the dining room. Aliah instantly perks up and slides out of her chair to run to her great-aunt's open arms.

"Yeye!"

"Hey, baby!" She scooped the small child onto her arms and put her back to her chair. "Finish your food, I have a surprise."

"Hi, Yelena. I cooked pasta, I'll get you some."

She couldn't decline as you were already walking to get her a plate, so she sat down beside your daughter kissing her forehead.

You placed the plate of pasta in front of her, "Thank you, Y/N." She smiles at you, her eyes meeting yours briefly before she focuses back on her food. "Mmm, this is really good," she says between bites.

All of a sudden, Aliah pipes up, her voice loud. "Mama!" She whines, looking around the room. Yelena sets her fork down, realizing the absence of her sister during dinner. "Yeah? Where's Natasha?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You immediately recognize the tone in Aliah's voice—that slightly higher pitch whine that signals a tantrum incoming. You kept your voice calm and soothing, "I'll get Natasha. Sounds like someone wants her. Rick told me she just got home an hour ago but he also said that she has an important meeting right now, but I'll check."

Walking out of the kitchen, you run your fingers through your dark hair, glancing sideways at the large picture frame hanging in the hallway. You catch your reflection—you lean in to see if your make up was still on.

As you near her office, you subtly adjust your blouse, smoothing out the wrinkles. Then, you push open the heavy door of Natasha's office carefully, you peeked inside, your eyes immediately drawn to her, seated in her high-back leather chair, facing away from the doorway. There was a head peeking through her desk. Clearly, a woman with wavy red hair was kneeling in front of her. You notice the absence of Natasha's wedding ring on her finger as she's tied the red-haired woman's hair with her tight grip. Natasha moans softly, tilting her head back, exposing her neck.

You were too shocked, too frozen, too numb to feel the tear that slid down your cheek.

Slowly and quietly, you pull the door closed, careful not to make a sound. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stand in the hallway, that single tear now joined by others streaming down your face. The shock and pain of the scene you just witnessed hit you like a physical blow. Your stomach churns and you feel the sudden urge to throw up. The room spins and you grab onto the wall to steady yourself, trying not to pass out from the overwhelming dizziness that washes over you. You inhale deeply through your nose, counting to four in your head, then exhale slowly through your mouth, counting to four again, like how your therapist taught you. You repeat this pattern, trying to calm your racing heart and clear your mind, fighting the panic attack that threatens to consume you.

"You're okay, you're okay, Y/N. You're fine. You're okay." You chanted over and over as you wiped the tears off your face.

You manage to pull yourself together and walk back to the dining room, putting on a brave face. Yelena looks at you suspiciously, your puffy eyes didn't go unnoticed by her.

"Baby, m-mama is in a very important meeting. Okay?" The blonde also noticed how your voice almost cracked as you spoke. Your daughter who is oblivious to the turmoil within you, behaves angelically as she finishes her food. The threat to tantrum was long gone. "Yelena? C-can you put Aliah to bed tonight? I've got…some things to do." You asked her hesitantly.

Yelena's eyes soften with worry, obviously noticing how uncharacteristically gentle and strained your voice is. Without a word about your eyes or voice, she simply responds, "Sure," flashing a small smile.

She also made sure to pay a visit on her sister's meeting tonight.

⧗

You retreat to your room, walking towards your large cabinets, you abruptly open your one of the drawers, grabbing the pack of marlboro red. Your fingers hover over them as you wrestle with temptation. Your hand trembles slightly, knowing the instant relief those chemicals could provide right now. The tightness in your chest, the dull ache from holding everything in…

It's an unhealthy habit that you've been using as a coping mechanism at the same time, it is an unhealthy habit you're trying to get yourself out with.

"Fuck," you whisper, unconsciously unrolling the pack's wrapper.

The cigarette trembles slightly between your fingers as you light it. The smoke curls up around your face, mirroring the storm brewing in your eyes. You sit on your bed, staring at nothing, the self-loathing growing heavier with each puff.

You took your wedding ring off your finger, you tried not to let the dam of tears break from your eyes as you examined the ring.

Everything's becoming clear to you now.

A dark voice in your head begins to whisper, planting seeds of self-doubt and guilt. You hurt her, destroyed her. Therefore, you deserve this pain, you deserve every pain she gives you. You're not good enough, never were. Your mind continues to whisper poisonous thoughts. You took a deep drag of the cigarette, the smoke burning your lungs like the guilt burning your soul. "This is karma," you told yourself. "You deserve every bit of her hate…"

A flicker of memory flashes before your eyes—the early days with Natasha, the sneaking together, the way she would sing for you in the middle of the night whenever your heart is heavy after a loss, whatever tournament you had joined. Your heart aches at the bittersweet nostalgia, the knowledge that you threw all that away because you were a fucking coward.

You stood and walked out onto the terrace, the night air enveloping you like a cold blanket. You took a long drag before exhaling slowly, watching the smoke dissipate on the icy breeze. The nicotine buzz barely touches the edges of your pain, but it's something. "She always hated these fucking things," you murmur, half-smile tinged with bitter irony.

You were about to get another cigarette when you saw your daughter, huddled in the doorway, her face streaked with tears, sniffling.

You froze on the spot and cursed yourself, you immediately stubbed out the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, trying to make the smell and the smoke go away, but it's too late—she started wailing loudly, her tiny fists balling up as she cried. You've taken to hiding in the bathroom or stepping outside when you need a cigarette, not letting your daughter see or even inhale the smell of smoke because she hates it and you would never have your daughter breathe it. You genuinely think you're being stealthy. But it seems like every time you would light up a cigarette, your daughter would immediately know.

Seeing how it affects your little one's purity and innocence makes you feel guilty.

"You pwomise you stop smoke!" Aliah cried out loud. You carefully walked towards her, without warning, she ran towards your bed grabbing your pillow and heaved it towards you with all her might, her small arms flailing.

Getting down on your knees so you're at her eye level, you watch her tiny form trembling with emotion as she throws every pillow she can reach in your direction. "Shh, Ali...mommy's sorry..." Your voice trembled, but she continued. You took every hit of the pillow from your daughter.

You hated making Aliah cry, you hated hurting Natasha. You hated yourself causing them this.

Everything's too much, it's too much. You feel every pain physically now.

Suddenly, you crumbled to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. "Mommy's…just hurt." Your voice breaks as tears pour down your face and fall on the pillows scattered in front of you. "I'm so sorry baby, please forgive mommy…"

As you break down in sobs, your daughter suddenly stops throwing pillows and stares at you with a frown.

"Hurt, mommy is hurt," you sobbed each word as you pointed to your heart, her little brow furrows even more. She's seen you do this before when you're sad or upset.

She walked towards you, throwing the pillows back on your bed. Then, she climbs onto your lap, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck. "Mommy hurt?" Through your sobs, you nod gently, holding her close. Her soft baby scent fills your nostrils, the smell of cigarettes long gone. And you realize how much you're hurting not just yourself, but this innocent soul who depends entirely on you. She placed her ear on your chest, a thing she grew up doing to ensure your heart is still beating whenever you tell her something hurt.

"Mommy's hurting...bad..."

And you deserve all of it.

⧗

"How many hours have you been sucking her?"

"Fucking hell, Yelena!" Natasha yelled, she pushed her office chair back and zipped her pants up.

"Out. Now." Yelena's voice brooks no argument, and the woman quickly scrambles to her feet, fleeing the room without another word. Natasha could only huff in embarrassment.

"That door is fucking closed for a reason."

"Well, it's unlocked, it seems like you wanted everyone to see the meeting you're doing here."

Natasha rolled her eyes as she moved to the nearby cabinet, pulling out a bottle of expensive red wine and a single glass. She pours herself a generous amount, her hand steady despite the tension in the room.

"Did you at least finish your meeting, sestra?" Yelena emphasizes the word 'finish' with heavy sarcasm. Natasha's jaw clenches visibly at Yelena's insinuation, her hands tightening around the wine glass. Without offering any to Yelena, she takes a long sip, still avoiding her sister's gaze.

"So this is your plan?" Yelena started again but her sister didn't bother to look. "Make her miserable?"

Now she got her sister's attention.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She murmured.

"I should've realized it." Yelena's laughter is sharp and devoid of any warmth, a bitter sound that fills the room.

"Can you…can you go?" Natasha irritatingly spat at Yelena without looking at her.

"Asking her to marry you, I thought you wanted a fresh start, sestra…"

"Watch your mouth." Natasha warned her sister, her pointed finger hanging in the air while the glass of wine was still in her hand.

But Yelena seemed unfazed by her sister's threat. "But I didn't realize…"

"Shut up!"

"That you just want to make her watch as you fuck some communal pussy with her wearing that wedding ring you put on her while you don't wear yours!"

"Fucking shut up!" Natasha hurls the wine glass across the room, missing Yelena by mere inches. The glass shatters against the wall, the sound echoing through the space. Yelena, however, remains eerily calm, not even flinching at the near miss.

She let out a deep sigh, shaking her head disappointingly. "Why are you doing this, Natasha? You've got so many options and money! You could've taken Aliah from her if that's the only thing you want! You can pay for better lawyers than her, you could've won custody!"

Natasha's jaw clenched as she tries to suppress her emotions once again. She takes a shuddering breath, attempting to regain her composure and stave off the spiral of anger and defensiveness threatening to consume her once again.

"But that's not what you really want don't you?" Her sister continues, Natasha finally meets her eye to eye. "Are you happy watching her go miserable? Kneel the ground you walk on just to earn that forgiveness from you?"

"She deserves it."

Yelena huffed about how unbelievably heartless her sister is right now. "I watched you fall apart over her. And now...now you're tearing her apart piece by piece." Yelena's voice breaks slightly. "I understand your pain, Natasha. I truly do, you're my sister. I held you through the darkest parts of it. But this...this is different. This is you actively choosing to hurt her, to break her."

"She deserves it." Natasha repeated coldly under her breath.

"Yeah, sure, Natasha. Whatever you say." Yelena was getting tired. "You're right, Y/N deserves all the pain you give her, sure. But does your daughter deserve that too? Because let's be real, you're not just hurting her, you're hurting your daughter too."

⧗

You tucked Aliah back to sleep. You made sure to change her clothes, making sure the fresh scent of soap and fabric softener replaces the lingering aroma of cigarette that clings to her skin. You smooth Aliah's hair, you wipe away the last of your tears. Her eyes flutter closed finally, her breath evening out into the rhythm of innocent sleep. You gently adjust her blankets, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before stepping back, your own eyes damp with residual emotion.

"I love you my Iyah."

You carefully extract yourself from Aliah's room, then go straight to your room. The first thing you did was take the hidden cigarettes from their usual hiding spots. Cracking open the window for fresh air, you aggressively grind each cigarette beneath your slippers, tossing the broken remnants into the trash.

You're not physically addicted, but cigarettes have become a crutch, a coping mechanism for the pain—when something hurts. The memory where you saw Natasha and a woman who was doing god knows what kneeling under her made your throat itch wanting some relief. But the memory of your daughter's face, her little sniffles seeing you take a long drag and inhale a smoke made your body physically flinch. That will be the last, you will not make your daughter cry again, you will not hurt her with a fucking nicotine stick. She deserves better than a damn smoker of a mom.

You straighten the rumpled bed sheets, placing the pillows Aliah had thrown at you back neatly against the headboard. Suddenly, there was a knock on your door, then, the doorknob aggressively rattled. You were about to get it when suddenly it creaked open and you saw Natasha in her disheveled state.

"N-Natasha…" your voice quivered, she is the last person you would expect to go to your room right now.

She towers over you, her tall frame blocking the light from your room. You step back instinctively, she breathes heavily in your face, the scent of alcohol, the scent of another woman in her skin are burning your nostrils. Her face is completely expressionless, almost scary in its neutrality. The lack of emotion makes her features somehow sharper, more intense.

You're frozen, shock rendering you unable to process the situation. Your mind is reeling, you are still trying to move on and forgive her from what you saw earlier—her and a red haired woman, their intimate pose burned into your retinas. And now, she's here, in your room, drunk and cold.

"Nat…what-what do you want?" She doesn't answer your question, her droopy eyes dropped down to your blouse. Your body trembled as she slowly, deliberately unbuttons each button.

You didn't resist, fear rooting you in place. Your mind is screaming at you to push her away, to run, but your body refuses to cooperate. Tears well up in your eyes as she slowly pushes your blouse off your shoulders, leaving you in just your lacy bra. Natasha leans in close, inhaling deeply at your neck as if trying to consume your scent. You smelled like marlboro red. Her lips brush your skin, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. She shoves you to your bed before crawling on top of you. Then she almost ripped your bra that is solely covering your upper body, exposing your breasts. She's not gentle, not sweet. She's cold, hungry—an animal. She sucks harshly on one nipple while pinching the other. You hissed, your body arching in pleasure.

It is twisted, you just saw her with another woman but now, you're letting her take you like this—no words, no tenderness. She's a force of nature, teeth grazing on your skin, fingers digging into your flesh. She's using you, taking what she needs, and you're letting her. At least it's you that she needs right now, right?

A tear rolls down your cheek, your hands reaching the back of her head as her mouth continues to attack your body.

It's better to have her like this, than none at all.

[tension4mari]

I was wondering if you could do player 125 pls like anything my man’s has no ff pls if you can

The beginning is kinda slow!

~

⚡︎Paring- Min-su x Fem!reader

⚡︎Summary- You and Min-su have been in a relationship for 3 years, deciding that you'll do whatever it takes to get rid of all your debt you inter into the squid games with Min-su. You both meet a girl named "Semi" and decides to hang out with her group. Little did you know you wouldn't be so safe there.

Warnings- Angst & cursing... That's it:0

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"What's your name?" the girl spoke, eyes strict with curiosity "Park Min-su" he said looking at her with his brown colored eyes "well, why'd come here anyway" And before he could speak a guy with purple hair walked up to her "Senorita, excuse me" She turned with furrowed brows.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"I want you to join our team." the purple haired guy spoke smiling at her. Semi turned her head to the guys beside him finally looking back at the guy in the middle "Uh. Why should I?" soon she spoke one of the guys beside her spoke "Don't you know who this is? The rap god, Thanos." He spoke staring at up then beginning to rap.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑The guy on his right spoke out "Hey, wait a minute. We don't know what we're playing. Picking a woman is-" He couldn't get his words out before Thanos pointed his finger out at the girl "Thanos the Great will protect you. Don't worry"

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"Oh" she chuckles "Thanos, huh?" she plays with her lip a little. "So, you managed to collect all of the Infinity Stones?" She says looking him up and down "Of course" The boy said throwing his arm up and down "Ill destroy anybody who dares stand in my way of greatness!" He declares telling her to stick with him "Yeah, so about that" She looks at the three guys "I was already talking to someone else and-" "No problem" "Who is it" Semi blinks at the guys and steps to reveal Min-su.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑He looks up at them nervously "What's your name?" Thanos nodded at him "Uh, I'm Min-su. But I have someone with m-" Thanos cuts him off "What's up? Nice to meet you, my brother" "Welcome to the Thanos world" He goes to grab Thanos had, shaking it "Uh...oh" "You're cute, come on"

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑Just as him and his crew were about to walk away you come up and grab Min-su shoulders. "Hey! where ya going?" nervously laughing at him you say. The group already walked off and now it's just you too. "Oh. some guys invited me to his group-" "What." you say staring at him in disbelief "I thought you and I were going to stick together? Especially after that last game we played!" "Right... But I can't just leave their group now!" "Thats dirty" he stated. "Dirty? What's dirty is you leaving your girlfriend to fend for herself all alone! What the hell has gotten into you Min-su!" "Nothing has gotten into me- Look. Just find another team and well see each other later. Ok?" "Whatever" You scoffed turning on your heels not turning back to look at him

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑Lucky for you, you found a team just in time for game. He must of not known how easily you life could be taken from these stupid games! It made you feel like he didn't care what would've happened to you. "Tch, I don't need him. I can handle my own" you mumble under your breathe.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑Soon enough you saw a group of men and a girl sitting together. Deciding you have had enough of talking to yourself you walked up to interduce yourself to them?

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"Hey? excuse me. Do you guys think i can sit with you all?" You spoke softly not wanting to alarm them "Sure, why not! sit down. We Aren't any harm. 390 spoke.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑You ended up really bonding with them and getting to know their names. Soon enough it was time to put votes in, whether not to stay or leave. Both you and Min-su voted to leave after the first game. Now you were beside Min-su somehow as you see a guy look back at him approaching.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"You better not fuck this up. he said with folded arms. "huh?' " hmm." The guy fumbles with Min-su jacket "This." "Like we agreed. We do one more, and then get out. Right?" He stared at him "Uh huh" Min-su said nodding his head violently "What the fuck?" you said whispered.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑You scoot closer towards Min-su "Are you seriously going to let that jerk tell you want to do?" You ask Min-su "Um.. Don't worry about it." he says looking away from you with his head down "What do you mean 'don't worry about it' Min-su you promised that well get out of here alive! Together." You say hoping he'll not chose the right thing. "Min-su." He looks at you "Yeah?" "Please. For me, chose the right thing"

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"I-I can't..." he says amongst his voice. "How stupid are you?!" You whisper shout "I want to leave this place- i don't think i can stay anymore longer.." he looks at you for a moment before turing his head 'I cant."

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑Your turn to vote was about to happen but one of the guys Min-su were hanging out with called you over. You hesitantly walked over to him "Who are you? Do you and that guy know each other?" he said while pointing to your boyfriend

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"Um yea... He's, my boyfriend." you answered ""Holy shit?!" he said in shock "Who would've known he had that in him??" he said elbowing His friend Thanos

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑ "Hey.. Why'd say dumping him and getting with me?" he says with much confident "Tch.' you scoff "As if" You turn to Min-su hoping he would say something about the guy hitting on you. You raise your eyebrows staring at him ".."

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"ugh!" you grumble, before you could speak Nam-Gyu look at your jacket "Hm?' he comes closer to you grabbing your jacket and looking at the X on your chest "What's this?" he says Holding onto your jacket even harder. "Let go of me you werido!" you turn once again looking at Min-su hoping he'll at least say something

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑He just stares at you. Looking dumbfounded. Nam-Gyu looks at Min-su then back at you "Wow dude, you're not gonna stand up for your bitch?" he says laughing "Excuse me?" you say offend "Let me the hell go! or I'm going to beat your ass!" you say pushing him off of you

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑"Yeah? How are you going to do that?" he says getting all in your face. You managed to get him off of you. Making sure you stayed your distance from him entirely.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑Before you leave you look at Min-su "Whatever we had. Its over." you say leaving him alone for good. He stares at your retreating figure not daring to speak a word.

Hope you liked it 😿

[kiragecko]

The Husband is reading Feet of Clay to nq (our eldest) and me. I last read it over a decade ago. What's hitting me this time is how Pratchett likes hammering his point home through multiple channels.

-

This is a book about respectability politics, discrimination, and privilege. The golems are the A-plot, loosely standing in for trafficked people/undocumented immigrants. (They also share some similarities to disabled experiences.)

But the book has SO MANY subplots, all sending the same message!

-

Cheri is constantly kicking down - trying to figure out how to survive as a dwarf in a human-centric city, while badmouthing the undead. It has echoes both of assimilated immigrants turning on newer, less acceptable ones AND 'normal' gays trying to distance themselves from the 'weird' queers.

The key to Vetinari's poisoning is recognizing the classist forces acting on the palace servants/the residents of Cockbill Street. How their desire to stay respectable holds them down, keeps them hungry and meek. How a healthy powerful man can survive, but a poor baby and old woman are vulnerable. And we see how they kick down as well - tormenting William Scuggins, who seems to have been either mentally disabled or mentally ill, for entertainment.

And the royal plot is contrasted with Vimes' mutterings about how the common people suffered under royalty but are still attracted to it. How they seem to WANT someone above them. Sure, some people might suffer, but nobody thinks it will be THEM, so it's fine.

-

Reading it again makes it almost unbelievable that people were trying to suggest Pratchett would be anti-trans. Right after Cheri comes out, Angua takes her to an undead bar, where it's repeatedly mentioned that people who "can't pass" can "be themself." When she chooses her new name, Angua thinks about how most people wouldn't have associated that name with someone with a full beard, but now they're going to have to. It's not subtle.

(There's also a woman with dementia there, in one of the books examples of how NOT to kick down. Pratchett doesn't DIRECTLY focus on disability this book, but there are a lot of little moments. (All the golems use AAC!))

-

I don't know. I'm just struck by how intersectionalist Pratchett's politics were. How this story can have 4 very different plots going on at the same time, but all of them have the same message.

He was a really great writer.

[santacoppelia]

Putting the Meta in "Metatron"

(couldn't resist the pun, sorry)

Ok, this has been tickling my brain for a while. I've been thinking about how The Metatron designed his role and discourse specifically to manipulate Aziraphale into the end result we saw in the last minutes of S2. I become obsessed with it because… well, I'm a bit obsessive, but also because there were many really smart writing decisions that I loved (even when I despise The Metatron exactly for the same reasons. Hate the character, love the writer). If you haven't watched Good Omens Season 2, this is the moment to stop reading. Come back later!

We already know that in Book Omens, the role of Gabriel in the ending was occupied by The Metatron. Of course, the series introduced us to Gabriel and we won a lot by that, but I feel that the origins of The Metatron should be considered for any of this. He is not a "sweet old man": he was the one in charge of seeing over the operation of Armageddon; not just a stickler of rules, but the main promoter for it.

However, when he appears in the series finale, we first are primed to almost pass him by. He is in the line for buying coffee, using clothes that are:

obviously not tailored (almost ill fitted)

in dark tones

looking worn and wrinkled

This seems so important to me! All the angels we have seen are so proud of their aspect, wear clear (white or off white) clothes, pressed, impeccable (even Muriel), even when they visit the Earth (which we have already seen on S1 with all the visits to the bookshop). The Metatron chose a worn, comfortable attire, instead. This is a humanized look, something that fools all the angels but which would warm up someone very specific, can you guess?

After making quite a complicated coffee order (with sort of an affable and nervous energy), he makes a question that Crowley had already primed for us when asking Nina about the name of the coffee: having a "predictable" alternative and an unpredictable one.

This creates an interesting parallel with the next scene: Michael is discussing the possibility of erasing Aziraphale from The Book of Life (a punishment even worse than Holy Water on demons, because not having existed at all, EVER is definitely worse than having existed and ceased to exist at some point) when The Metatron arrives, interrupts the moment and signals having brought coffee. Yup, an amicable gesture, but also a "not death" offering that he shows clearly to everyone (even when Michael or Uriel do not understand or care for it. It wasn't meant for them). He even dismisses what Michael was saying as "utter balderdash" and a "complete piffle", which are the kind of outdated terms we have heard Aziraphale use commonly. So, The Metatron has put up this show for a specific audience of one.

The next moment on the script has Metatron asking Crowley for the clarification of his identity. Up to this moment, every angel has been ignoring the sprawled demon in the corner while discussing how to punish Aziraphale… But The Metatron defers to the most unlikely person in the room, and the only one who will push any buttons on Aziraphale: Crowley. After that, Aziraphale can recognize him, and Metatron dismisses the "bad angels" (using Aziraphale's S1 epithet) with another "catchy old phrase", "spit spot", while keeping Muriel at the back and implying that there is a possibility to "check after" if those "bad angels" have done anything wrong.

Up to this moment, he has played it perfectly. The only moment when he loses it is when he calls Muriel "the dim one", which she ignores… probably because that's the usual way they get talked to in Heaven. I'm not sure if Aziraphale or Crowley cared for that small interaction, but it is there for us (the audience) to notice it: the sympathy the character might elicit is built and sought, but he is not that nice.

After that, comes "the chinwag" and the offer of the coffee: the unnecessarily complicated order. It is not Aziraphale's cup of tea (literally), but it is so specific that it creates some semblance of being thought with care, and has a "hefty jigger" of syrup (again with the funny old words). And, as Aziraphale recognizes, it is "very nice!" (as The Metatron "jolly hoped so"), and The Metatron approves of him drinking it by admitting he has "ingested things in my time, you know?". This interaction is absolutely designed to build a bridge of understanding. The Metatron probably knew that the first response he would get was a "no", so he tailored his connection specifically to "mirror" Aziraphale: love of tasty human treats he has also consumed, funny old words like the ones he loves, a very human, worn, well-loved look. That was the bait for "the stroll": the moment when Aziraphale and Crowley get separated, because The Metatron knew that being close to Crowley, Aziraphale would have an hypervigilant soundboard to check the sense of what he was going to get offered. That's what the nasty look The Metatron gives to Crowley while leaving the bookshop builds (and it gets pinpointed by the music, if you were about to miss it).

The next thing we listen from The Metatron is "You don't have to answer immediately, take all the time you need" in such a friendly manner… we can see Aziraphale doubting a little, and then comes the suggestion: "go and tell your friend the good news!". This sounds like encouragement, but is "the reel". He already knows how Crowley would react, and is expecting it (we can infer it by his final reaction after going back for Aziraphale after the break up, but let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we?). He even can work up Muriel to take care of the bookshop while waiting for the catch.

What did he planted in Aziraphale's mind? Well, let's listen to the story he has to tell:

"I don't think he's as bad a fellow… I might have misjudged him!" — not strange in Aziraphale to have such a generous spirit while judging people. He's in a… partnership? relationship? somethingship? with a demon! So maybe first impressions aren't that reliable anyway. The Metatron made an excellent job with this, too.

"Michael was not the obvious candidate, it was me!" — This idea is interesting. Michael has been the stickler, the rule follower, even the snitch. They have been rewarded and recognized by that. Putting Aziraphale before Michael in the line of succession is a way of recognizing not only him, but his system of values, which has always been at odds with the main archangels (even when it was never an open fight).

"Leader, honest, don't tell people what they want to hear" — All these are generic compliments. The Metatron hasn't been that aware of Aziraphale, but are in line with what would have been said of any "rebel leader". They come into context with the next phrase.

"That's why Gabriel came to you, I imagine…" — I'm pretty sure The Metatron didn't imagine this, ha. He is probably imagining that the "institutional problem" is coalescing behind his back, and trying to keep friends close, but enemies closer… while dividing and conquering. If Gabriel rebelled, and then went searching for Aziraphale (and Crowley, they are and item and he knows it), that might mean a true risk for his status quo and future plans.

Heaven has great plans and important projects for you — this is to sweeten the pot: the hefty jigger of almond syrup. You will be able to make changes! You can make a difference from the inside! Working for an old man who feels strangely familiar! And who recognizes your point of view! That sounds like the best job offer of the world, really.

Those, however, are not the main messages (they are still building good will with Aziraphale); they are thought out to build the last, and more important one:

Heaven is well aware of your "de facto partnership" with Crowley…

It would be considered irregular if you wanted to work with him again…

You, and you alone, can bring him to Heaven and restore his full angelic status, so you could keep working together (in very important projects).

Here is the catch. He brought the coffee so he could "offer him coffee", but the implications are quite clear: if you want to continue having a partnership with Crowley, you two must come to Heaven. Anything else would be considered irregular, put them in a worst risk, and maybe, just maybe, make them "institutional enemies". Heaven is more efficient chasing enemies, and they have The Book of Life as a menace.

We already know how scared Aziraphale has always been about upsetting Heaven, but he has learned to "disconnect" from it through the usual "they don't notice". The Metatron came to tell him "I did notice, and it has come back to bite you". The implied counterpart to the offer is "you can always get death". Or even worse, nonexistence (we have already imagined the angst of having one of them condemned to that fate, haven't we?)

When The Metatron arrives, just after seeing Crowley leave the bookshop, distraught, he casually asks "How did he take it?", but he already knows. That was his plan all along: making them break up with an offer Aziraphale could not refuse, but Crowley could not accept. That's why he even takes the license to slightly badmouth Crowley: "Always did want to go his own way, always asking damn fool questions, too". He also arrive with the solution to the only objection Aziraphale would have: Muriel, the happy innocent angel that he received with so much warmth and kindness, is given the opportunity to stay on Earth, taking care of the bookshop. The only thing he would have liked to take with him is not a thing, and has become impossible.

If God is playing poker in a dark room and always smiling, The Metatron is playing chess, and he is quite good at it (that's why he loves everything to be predictable). He is menacing our pieces, and broke our hearts in the process… But I'm pretty sure he is underestimating his opponents. His awful remark of Muriel being "dim"; saying that Crowley "asks damn fool questions", and even believing that Aziraphale is just a softie that can be played like a pipe… That's why telling him the project is "The Second Coming" was an absolute gift for us as an audience, and it prefigures the downfall that is coming — the one Aziraphale, now with nothing to lose, started cooking in his head during that elevator ride (those couple of minutes that Michael Sheen gifted to all of us: the shock, the pain, the fury, and that grin in the end, with the eyes in a completely different emotion). Remember that Aziraphale is intelligent, but also fierce. Guildernstern commited a similar mistake in Hamlet, and it didn't go well:

"Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass, and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me."

I'm so excited to learn how this is going to unfold!! Because our heroes have always been very enthusiastic at creating plans together, failed miserably at executing them, and even then succeeding… But now they are apart, more frustrated and the stakes are even higher. Excellent scenario for a third act!

*exits, pursued by a bear*

[inherdaze]

jungle — kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi x f reader

18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy

9k

summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.

There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over. 

Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat. 

“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”

 You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”

“The Sakusa family?”

“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.

“He’s coming home.”

“From the war?”

 “Yes.” 

“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.” 

She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely. 

She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.” 

“Why? For dinner?”

“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”

You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”

“We’ve been exchanging letters.”

Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death. 

She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”

You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed. 

“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?” 

You hum and nod. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“When will he be here?”

Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.

“Tomorrow.”

You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs. 

The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky. 

As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.

You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.

“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.

You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.

Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.

The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market. 

“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.” 

“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”

She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.” 

She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around. 

You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times. 

You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor? 

Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.

You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.

When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent. 

Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—

“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.

“Hi… hi.”

He stares at you blankly.

“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back. 

“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”

“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you. 

He doesn't. 

As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there. 

You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.

You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind. 

Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived. 

You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived. 

She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you. 

“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”

Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens. 

“My apologies, miss.”

The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think. 

His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”

He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions. 

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides. 

“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”

She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup. 

The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter. 

The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well. 

You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already. 

To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things. 

Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”

By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.” 

You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second. 

Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder. 

Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you. 

“How are the vegetables doing?”

“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward. 

You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven). 

You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.” 

Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.” 

The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home. 

The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.

You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass. 

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold! 

After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you. 

“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.

Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants. 

You drop the bucket.

“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”

You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.

You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.” 

It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic. 

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.

“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.” 

You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him. 

“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.

He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.

He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too. 

The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine. 

���I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves. 

“I’ve already forgiven you.” 

“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”

He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated. 

“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.” 

He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.

You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.

Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that). 

He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning. 

When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless. 

You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has. 

There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do). 

The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead. 

In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away. 

Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.

“Talk to them,” You encourage. 

He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”

“Ask them how they are.” 

Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.” 

You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”

He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.

When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.

You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help. 

“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.” 

“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.” 

“How so?”

He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside. 

When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you. 

“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.” 

Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively. 

“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi. 

He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.” 

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.” 

The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response. 

After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean. 

Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright. 

“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion. 

“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.” 

He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.” 

You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue. 

Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.” 

He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter. 

“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.” 

That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts. 

“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.” 

You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay. 

Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.” 

It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out. 

You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.” 

The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed. 

You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way. 

He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on. 

You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love. 

You peer down into the pot. 

“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.” 

He bites his cheek at your dramatics.

You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way. 

He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.” 

You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again. 

He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste. 

When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own. 

Your fingers twitch. 

“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.” 

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes. 

You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut. 

You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—

“I’ve arrived early!”

The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor. 

“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen. 

She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.

“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.” 

He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.

“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”

At that, a smile slips onto your face. 

“Yes. Cook with love.”

When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love. 

You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share. 

The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable. 

Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.

You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you. 

“Let me help.”

Your cheeks burn. 

He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?” 

It’s a little loose. 

“Tighter, please.”

He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching. 

“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure. 

It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you). 

You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one. 

The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space. 

On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand. 

You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door. 

You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him. 

The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs. 

Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers. 

“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.” 

“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you. 

“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay). 

“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.” 

Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush. 

Finally, he fesses up. 

“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.” 

You see Kiyoomi make a face. 

“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.” 

“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens. 

“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?” 

The both of you choke. 

You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening. 

“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”

“Don’t be like that, Omi.”

“Miya.”

“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”

“You are unbearable.”

Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated. 

“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.” 

You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes. 

After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way. 

When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.

You only hum in response. 

Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around. 

You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe. 

As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around. 

You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward. 

“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole. 

“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi. 

“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.

Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—” 

“Miya.” 

“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.” 

He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush. 

Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you. 

“Would you like some dinner?”

“Yes, please.”

You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side. 

In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.

“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.” 

He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly. 

“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left. 

“Miya told me to confess to you.” 

Your blood runs cold. Confess…? 

Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it. 

You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room. 

When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day. 

He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously. 

“I wish you could come with me.” 

You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile. 

“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say. 

“Goodnight, angel.” 

Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does). 

The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done. 

As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it. 

(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).

Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.

One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy. 

The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door. 

Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige. 

You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely. 

When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.

“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.” 

And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you. 

“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb. 

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day. 

The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in. 

“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.” 

His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.” 

Your mouth drops open. 

Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.

Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.” 

You stay rooted still. 

“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.  

He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.” 

It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together. 

(He wants to). 

It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt. 

“Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”

He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth. 

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him. 

It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please. 

Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear. 

He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.

His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name. 

He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in. 

“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”

Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!” 

He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.” 

You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll. 

You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you. 

Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 

He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you. 

In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!” 

“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.” 

You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes. 

“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?” 

You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again. 

“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.” 

He gives an approving cluck. 

You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand. 

“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe. 

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around. 

“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock. 

“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.” 

“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”

“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately. 

“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips. 

“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?” 

You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.” 

“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.” 

You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love. 

Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.

As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you. 

“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.” 

You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip. 

“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”

“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!” 

“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!” 

“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—” 

The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own. 

Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.

[mayearies]

✰ DRAMA KING

‘not to be dramatic or anything, but i’d die for you.’ -miles g. genre: fluff

warnings: just the mention of the reader having a brother a/n: alright no cause i contemplated this name for a while 😭 (@moonpiies would know also ty for her for this idea mwah mwah) and ill probably end up changing it later if i think of a better one also this is a pretty lazy fic

e42 miles had lost one of his airpods while over your house, around 6 months ago. he was devastated and remained pretty sad for the next few hours. hearing him whine about it was pretty funny though. but now, he was at your house again for a little study date to brush up on some subjects together. but there wasn't much studying going on cause, y'know.

—"i just remembered you wanted me to come over to study." "okay, but this is more fun? stickers now, study later."

you were both dolling each other up by putting random stickers on each others face and arms. for what reason? i don't know the idea just kind of came out of the blue. but you both were enjoying it. "so, how's the one airpod life treatin' ya?"

"shut up." "i mean genuinely." "so do i."

you knew he wasn't being serious. you two play a lot to know the difference between serious and playful. but that playful tone switched to a rather serious one when you both realized you were out of stickers. "there should be more in my brother's room. he's started liking hello kitty, strangely."

miles pointed to your pillows and sheets which were littered with hello kitty. "is it 'cause of you and all this?"

"i mean it might be. you never know for sure."

♡ rummaging through your brothers room, you stumbled upon more stickers, mission accomplished. maybe you were influencing him into your interests a little. 'maybe'? tell that to the 5 pages of stickers in his drawer.

♡ the thing is, you coincidently ran out of drinks. on the way to the kitchen you went, grabbing two cups and filling them to the brim with soda. on your way out, you stepped on something and heard a light pain in your foot. well, miles was gonna be happy for sure.

"i have a surprise." "oh no, i'm so interested." "don't play with me, you'll like it this time."

you pulled the missing airpod out your pocket and miles' face lit up with a mix of surprise and joy. "like you're sure-"

"yes, i'm sure. i'm the only one with airpods in this house and i keep track of them, unlike someone i know."

miles brought his lips to the back of your hand and kissed it all the way up to where you elbow was. then he hugged you. he doesn't do this unless he wants something. it was cunning, but sweet in a way or two. "would it be an exaggeration to say i'd die for you?"

"yes, actually." "what if i said i'd kill someone for you?" "thats not that much of an exaggeration. you've probably tried to do it once." "eh, maybe. possibly, even."

[nothingbutsweetwords]

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀʀ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ..."

Word count: 6000.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

Warnings: Angst.

FALLING — 7. Her.

During the first moons of her stay at the Red Keep, everything seemed new and exciting. There was some sense of freedom in not having her family around, but with each sunrise, it became more complicated, and the longing grew stronger.

The letters she received from her mother initially brought comfort, but soon they became short. No matter how many words her mother wrote about her, her siblings, and her father, it was never enough. She wrote daily, though she only sent them every three days. She would tell her about her day, always omitting her nightly outings, and tried to hide how much she missed them, and her mother, worried, always asked about Aemond's progress.

Over time, even all the letters became inadequate; they couldn't fill the void she felt. She longed to hear their voices, feel the warmth of their hugs. She questioned a few times if it had been a good idea, but she quickly dismissed those thoughts to remain resolute.

Aemond spent most of his time in the yard, both morning and evening, promising to become the best warrior for her. This caused their visits to the library to decrease. Nevertheless, every night without fail, they slept together, face to face, finding solace in each other's presence.

Her lessons with the septa became increasingly tedious, or perhaps she just grew more easily bored. She spent a lot of time in Helaena's room, who seemed happy to have her. Helaena continued to intrigue her with riddles and enigmatic phrases, making her wonder when each prediction would come true. So far, none seemed bad, so she wasn't frightened or worried. Helaena also helped her improve her embroidery technique, although there wasn't much to be done; it wasn't her strong suit. Soon, the lack of activities even led her to become interested in her insects, delighted to see her aunt’s enthusiasm.

One day, while sitting on the floor, Helaena placed a ladybug on her hand. "It tickles" she said, laughing softly as the insect walked across her palm. Helaena smiled at her, happy to share her passion with someone.

"They all have seven dots, the red ones" Helaena said, revealing an interesting curiosity. "She likes you" she added, looking her in the eyes with a slight smile. She thanked her for saying that.

"What about those?" she asked, pointing to a wooden box with a transparent lid, where several insects could be seen inside. There were some spiders and others she couldn't name.

When Helaena turned to look in the direction her finger pointed, her smile faded a bit. She took the box in her hands and allowed her to observe them from above, while the ladybug continued to walk between her fingers and fly from one hand to the other.

"I do not trust them yet" she said quietly. "I am not sure whether their wishes are for good or ill."

“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Helaena pointed to a large black spider from above and said: "They weave intricate webs, and sometimes those webs can hide important secrets. I'm still trying to unravel which ones" she said, frowning. "But what I know is, we have to beware of the guardian of secrets" she warned, as if wanting to protect her from an-as-yet unknown danger. She simply nodded, hoping nothing bad would come of it.

As time passed, life at the castle continued with its ups and downs; Aemond's training, the enigmatic conversations with Helaena, the whispers of the people, and the few letters from her mother. Even through it all, she found moments of peace, and convinced herself that despite the challenges, she was exactly where she needed to be, next to him.

Occasionally, she found distraction by visiting her grandsire's room. She spent hours there, reading to him, listening to his fascinating stories about their ancestors and the old Valyria. Often, she asked for tales about her mother's youth, seeking to feel closer to her.

She had also begun to insist on Lyra's presence during every meal, finding in her company a sense of familiarity, a relief from her growing homesickness. As expected, everything began to feel cramped, and Lyra, as perceptive as ever, had noticed it, and she herself could no longer ignore it.

She missed her family terribly, and there was nothing that could ease that pain, except the obvious. She felt trapped, guilty for wanting to go to Dragonstone and leave Aemond behind, but she couldn't help it.

"Could it be that, perhaps, I've made a mistake coming here?" she asked one night, her voice filled with doubt and shame for exposing her deepest thoughts.

"I do not think things are that simple, princess. You came here with good intentions, and missing your family is only natural, it does not mean you have made a mistake" Lyra replied gently.

She nodded, acknowledging the truth in those words. "I do really miss them" she murmured, longing evident, head bowed. "No matter how hard I try, this is not my home."

"Why do you say that, princess?" After dinner, Lyra had drawn her a warm bath, and now, in her nightdress, Lyra was gently brushing her long hair.

"I've heard the whispers when I walk alone in the halls." Lyra nodded, understanding the situation and listening attentively to her words. Both were sitting on the bed, and she was with her back facing her lady-in-waiting, between her legs. "It's as if they believe me deaf. I know what they say or think, and it's not... good" she confessed, pain reflected in her voice.

Upon hearing her last words, Lyra set the brush aside and drew her close, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. Lyra was the daughter of one of Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting and had lived her entire life in that family. Though only a few years older, she felt a deep maternal love for the princess. 

"We must not let such foolish words disturb our ears, and if they do, let us ensure they do not enter our precious minds, yes?" Lyra said, whispering with firmness. "They mean nothing."

She nodded, and unable to contain herself, she began to cry softly in her caretaker's arms. They remained like that for a while until she could calm down. She appreciated Lyra's love and understanding, feeling fortunate to have someone like that by her side, watching over her well-being.

After some time, Lyra left the room, wishing her goodnight. This was her signal to get up, put on her cloak over her shoulders, dampen her face a bit to erase any trace of dry tears, and take the gift she had prepared so much for him with the help of her mother. With a mix of excitement and nervousness, she headed towards her destination, seeking to find another place of peace and connection amidst the storm of emotions that assailed her.

Aemond's nameday wasn't until the next morning, but she never had much patience for such things. That night, like all others, she entered the room with a candle in one hand, only now she hid the gift behind her back with the other.

Aemond was sitting by the window, his gaze fixed on the night sky. She closed the door with her hip, as both her hands were occupied, and walked over to him. Aemond's face showed signs of fatigue, even some sadness. She knew he was trying to stay awake while waiting for her, as always. The notion of time had escaped her during the shared moment with Lyra, and he always ended up terribly exhausted by his training. Seeing her arrive, Aemond settled and offered a tired smile. She circled the bed, placing the candle on the small table, and with her free hand, she took off her cloak, hiding the gift underneath on the nearby chair.

She walked towards him slowly, observing the clear sky. The moon shone over the city, enhancing the delicacy of his face.

"This is how the night was when I claimed Vhagar" he said, with sorrow. Her heart squeezed at his words, she sadly knew he would never have a flight like that again.

"What was it like?" she finally asked, cautiously. She had never dared to ask about that moment, fearing to reopen wounds, but now that he mentioned it, her curiosity stirred again.

He smiled, still looking at the sky. "I never imagined flying would feel like that" he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Did it ever trouble you when I did?" he asked.

"What? Claim Vhagar?" she inquired, surprised by his question.

"Yes" he said softly, his voice tinged with apprehension.

She smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, her eyes reflecting pride. "Of course not. It was meant for you, a warrior destined for a warrior." Her words carried a sense of admiration and certainty, a testament to her unwavering belief in his capabilities. "And that was just the beginning, Aemond. Together, you will be unstoppable" she said, her voice whispering with conviction and anticipation. "I do feel safer knowing we have you as protectors."

"Thank you" he expressed, hopeful. She knew the journey was just beginning, and the horizon stretched like a promise of all the adventures to come. "I did it on behalf of us both." She smiled gratefully, gently squeezing him.

"I know they will write books that will pass through all the ages, Aemond, about your courage and triumph" she said, walking towards the sofa.

"I'm not sure about that much" he replied, laughing lightly at her words.

"Then I will be the one to write them" she said, pulling the gift from under her cloak. "Close your eye" she instructed, with an excited smile. Aemond obeyed, but not before giving her an odd look.

"Open your hands" she indicated once she was in front of him again. He did so without question, and with a gentle gesture, she placed the gift in his hands, which lowered slightly at the unexpected weight.

"Now you can look" she whispered. Aemond did so quickly, and looked surprised at the delicate blue velvet bag. She was looking at him with excitement and a touch of nervousness. It was the first time she had given such a planned gift to someone, and she hoped not to disappoint. But even if she did, she would never find out, as he would never show it.

"It's your nameday present" she explained with a radiant smile. "I couldn't wait to give it to you on the morrow, and I wanted to be the first one to do it" she said, letting out a small laugh from her lips.

"I love it" he replied, placing the gift on his lap and looking directly at her, the faint moonlight adorning his gaze with a softness that made him appear even more beautiful.

"You haven't even seen it!" she exclaimed, softly laughing. "Come on, open it."

"I would love anything you gave me" he said laughing too, while untying the laces of the velvet bag to reveal the gift. She had a premonition that his words were sincere.

He carefully pulled the wooden case out of the bag. It was made of ebony, so its color was dark like the night, almost black, and was decorated with delicate carvings. He ran his hand over the surface, appreciating the abstract shapes as if they were a work of art. He had a slightly open mouth as he admired the case with admiration. Then, carefully, he opened it, revealing the true gift.

Inside rested a valyrian steel dagger, shining and forged with impeccable craftsmanship. Its sharp, polished blade reflected the light with a silver shine. Each side of it was adorned with intricate engravings that wound from the hilt to the edge.

His eyes lit up upon seeing it, and a sincere smile spread across his face. "It's valyrian steel" she explained enthusiastically, "so you'll always carry a piece of our roots."

The handle was equally impressive. It was wrapped in black leather, a material that, according to the smith, provided a more comfortable and secure grip. However, the highlight was the sapphires embedded in the handle. The sapphires, of a deep and radiant blue, were skillfully set into the metal, creating a vibrant contrast with the silver. Each sapphire was carefully polished, capturing flashes of light that gave the impression of small stars embedded in the hilt.

The guard of the dagger, also made of steel, was decorated with intertwining motifs that complemented the sapphires in the handle. Aemond took it in his hands carefully, observing every detail meticulously.

She had often heard him speak about Viserys's dagger, seeing the longing in his eyes when he did so, as well as the sadness knowing he could never possess it. That's why she had tried to make something unique for him, something exclusively his, perhaps even something that could be passed down to future Targaryens, always remembered as his.

He set the dagger aside and looked at the box. Inside was a sapphire too. She knew some people carried those precious gemstones as talismans, believing they protected the eyes and helped see beyond the physical. Besides, she had always thought the color matched his eyes. It seemed like a thoughtful detail, but she didn't dare mention its significance.

"My father gave me two he brought back from one of his expeditions to the Stepstones a few years ago" she explained, smiling as he held the sapphire between his fingers, admiring it in the light streaming through the window. "I have the other one" she added shyly. "So you always have a piece of sky, or sea, and I hope it always reminds you that you are destined for something big." He set the sapphire aside and continued to observe. She wondered if he would be attentive enough to explore further, and of course, he was.

The box was lined with more velvet and there was a small cushion where the dagger rested. During her lessons and visits to Helaena, she had embroidered the fabric, and the tailor had turned it into this. She had tried to depict waves and the moon in different shades of blue and teal, with some white stars. They might not have been perfect, but she had poured her heart into them.

He traced the fabric with his fingers, still not saying a word.

"I embroidered it" she added proudly. Then he put the dagger back in the case, but kept the sapphire in his hand. She waited anxiously for his words. "I’m sure it does not compare to Viserys', but..."

"It's perfect" he interrupted, his voice sincere. She let out a sigh she didn't know she'd been holding, a wave of relief and happiness at his reaction. "I..." he began, hesitating. He shook his head slightly, searching for words. Then he put the case back in the velvet bag and stepped away from the window ledge. Once face to face, he hugged her unexpectedly. With one hand he held the gift and with the other he held her tightly. She returned the embrace with a smile, now more relaxed. 

"Thank you" he whispered, holding her even tighter, their hearts almost merging in that hug. When they separated, his eye sparkled, holding back some tears, just like hers. "Let us go to bed" he said, noticing his body was cold from being pressed against the window glass. He approached a shelf where he kept some of his most precious books and now his most precious object, then headed for the bed, placing the sapphire on the bedside table after admiring it again.

Smiling, they both got under the covers, facing each other, feeling their bodies warming up again. They both reached out their hands at the same time, their hands meeting in the middle. They laughed softly and intertwined their fingers in the middle of the bed. It was their routine, talking like this, face to face, until they ran out of things to say, with their hands joined. Then they slept together, sometimes with her head on his chest, sometimes with him nestled in her arms.

"I loved it" he said sincerely. "Absolutely everything," he assured her, "no one has ever given me a better present."

She smiled proudly, happy with his words. "I'm glad you liked it."

They looked at each other in silence. It was a comfortable silence, warm even. It was at that moment, suddenly, while they looked at each other, that hundreds of thoughts flooded her mind like a torrent. Did everyone experience something as wonderful as this? Did everyone have someone to whom giving the whole world, along with their heart on a silver platter, seemed not enough? Did everyone's heart beat so wildly when looking someone in the eyes? Or was it something that only happened when it was the most beautiful face in the kingdom gazing back at them?

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when she saw that he seemed to want to say something too. They both remained silent, waiting for the other to speak first.

"You can go first" she said softly.

"No, you're a lady, you go" he insisted courteously.

"No, please, you tell me" she said, almost pleading with her eyes, though she wasn't exactly sure what she hoped to hear, still trying to understand the strange sensation in her chest.

"Tell me, please" he echoed at the same time, and they laughed again at the coincidence.

"You're my best friend" he exclaimed finally.

"You're my best friend" she replied, in perfect sync.

They laughed again, and as they truly heard each other's words, they smiled. She felt warmth rise in her cheeks. At that moment, everything made sense to her. That special, innocent feeling, that pure joy, so complex yet so simple, was love. She didn't need to fully understand it to know it was real, and that it was reciprocated.

They lingered for a moment, lost in each other's gaze. Aemond's eyes glowed with a tenderness that mirrored her own. Without needing more words, they leaned in slowly and shared a hug filled with affection and silent promises. The moonlight bathed the room, enveloping them in its silver glow. Every moment seemed magical, as if time had stopped just for them.

In that instant, in the tranquility of the night, they both knew that despite the challenges, they would always have that special bond that united them.

Finally, they settled comfortably under the covers, still close, their hearts beating in unison, and they embraced the serenity.

Once back in her room, she spent the day with Lyra again. If it were up to her, she would have spent the entire day with Aemond, but she knew he would break fast with his mother as usual. Later, he would be busy with his training, something that excited him especially now, with the anticipation of wielding a real sword, finally, as he had come of age for it.

At dusk, after writing to her mother and enjoying a hot bath, the woman helped her dress in the carefully chosen attire for the occasion. She opted for a flowing blue dress and some delicate jewelry. As Lyra began to brush her hair, preparing to style it up as she always did, she decided to change her mind.

Aemond had always praised her curls, often running his fingers through them in the night until he drifted off to sleep, and she thought it would be a pleasant surprise for him to wear her hair loose, something she only did in the privacy of their rooms.

When she was almost ready, Lyra was about to accompany her to the hall where the feast would take place, but they heard soft knocks on the door. Few were the times someone sought out her room, so both were intrigued. Lyra walked towards the door and opened it, while she adjusted the sandals that complemented her dress. When she looked up, she found Aemond standing in front of her, looking at her in awe, with Lyra behind him, barely able to hide her huge smile biting her lower lip.

She felt the blush rise to her cheeks, they were not accustomed to being so close in front of other people, so she didn't know how to react, a little flustered with her lady-in-waiting standing there.

Aemond's hair was neatly tied back in a half ponytail. His left side was partly covered by the patch he wore during his training, and he was dressed in a handsome green suit.

"I’ve come to escort you, princess" he murmured shyly, mindful of the third presence. She smiled and nodded, walking towards him and taking his right arm.

"Happy nameday, my prince. May you both enjoy a good supper" Lyra chimed in, opening the door for them to leave.

"Thank you, my lady" Aemond replied courteously before walking out of the room.

Once out of the enthusiastic gaze, she squeezed his arm and looked at him. "Happy nameday, my prince."

He looked at her with a smile that radiated happiness as he guided her through the dimly lit corridors by torchlight, the sun already hidden. "Thank you, my princess." The next words seemed to come with a touch of adoration and nervousness. "You look beautiful tonight... well, you always do, but tonight especially so."

She responded with a grateful smile. "You look lovely too, as always, my prince." He smiled faintly, an expression that denoted a hint of skepticism, as if he couldn't quite believe all the compliments she gave him. As they walked together, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor, she broke the silence with a curious question. "What gifts have you received so far?"

With a gleam of joy in his eyes, he replied, "my grandsire had a new saddle made for Vhagar. It's magnificent." His voice filled with enthusiasm. "My mother gave me some ancient books from Oldtown, and she also surprised me with Daeron's visit. I barely remembered his face." She widened her eyes in surprise, vaguely recalling Daeron, who was her age and whom she had seen only once. "Helaena gave me a suit embroidered by herself, with two intertwined dragons" he said with palpable excitement, hoping it meant something. "And Viserys gave me a Valyrian steel sword, with a belt that also has space for a dagger. Aegon mentioned he would give me his present later" he concluded happily. 

She smiled, glad that each gift sounded well thought out, just right for him, although still puzzled why he referred to his father by his name. As they finished their conversation, they found themselves standing in front of the imposing doors of the grand hall. Instinctively, both separated their arms as the guards opened the large doors, announcing their arrival. 

The guests stood in the center of the hall, conversing animatedly, except for the king and the Hand, who were already seated. The queen approached them with a maternal smile and planted a kiss on her son's forehead. "We were waiting for you, my dearest" she said affectionately. Then, taking his hand to guide him to his seat, she turned to her. "Princess, we did not expect you. What a lovely surprise" she added with a smile.

She felt a small knot of uncertainty in her stomach, wondering if she was intruding, but Aemond wouldn't have sought her out if that were the case. She returned the queen's smile and noticed how she gestured to the servants, who quickly added a chair and tableware next to Helaena. Helaena smiled at her and, before she could greet her, moved towards that newly added chair, giving up her place directly in front of Aemond, which she appreciated. Perhaps Helaena wanted her to sit opposite her brother, or simply preferred not to be near Aegon, an understandable preference.

She sat down with a grateful smile, though still somewhat uncomfortable. The feast began, and musicians played cheerful ballads that filled the air with a festive atmosphere. Laughter and conversation flowed along the table, and she almost forgot how much she missed her family, caught up in the distraction of the moment. She noticed that the wine jug beside her needed refilling more often than others, and wondered how long it would be before Aegon spoiled the mood. He was fun and pleasant when sober, but she couldn't say the same when he was drunk.

"Princess, I heard you've been learning High Valyrian" said the king, smiling at her with somewhat weary eyes. She smiled happily at the question, and Aemond paid attention, interested in the conversation.

"Yes, your grace. Aemond has been an excellent instructor" she replied proudly.

"She is making incredible progress" Aemond added, shyly.

"I bet it comes easy to you, just like your mother" the king said, smiling before taking a sip of wine. Perhaps to an untrained eye, Aemond's slight disappointment might have gone unnoticed, but she saw it, and understood why. She couldn't blame the king for loving his daughter so much, as her mother was a splendid person, but she felt sorry that he didn't see the fortune in having Helaena and Aemond, who were just as intelligent and kind.

"With Aemond as my guide, it's only natural for me to learn quickly, your grace" she said, smiling at Aemond. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, and the king looked pleased with the response, nodding before moving on to another conversation. Aegon's raised eyebrows and mischievous smile did not go unnoticed.

Helaena was showing her a figure she always carried, a wooden butterfly that Viserys had given her when she was a baby. She wondered if maybe that was the origin of her fascination with insects. As they continued talking, she felt an unfamiliar finger tangle in one of her curls, pulling it lightly. It was Aegon, who was looking at her hair with mocking attention.

"The Arryn blood is strong, is it not, niece?" he said sarcastically, and in a low voice, ensuring the king did not hear.

She tensed at the comment, and Helaena looked at Aegon disapprovingly. Her body stiffened, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. In that moment, she inwardly cursed herself for not wearing black and for wearing her hair loose, proudly displaying her curls. Aegon simply removed his finger and engaged in another conversation, losing interest in teasing her, but she couldn't return to her previous state.

Helaena gently squeezed her hand, offering a small supportive smile, but it did little to calm her. Aemond didn't seem to hear the remark, for which she was thankful.

She felt more alone than ever, like an uninvited guest in a place she once called home. And she came to understand her siblings' anger at such insults, not to the same extent, of course, but she did.

The rest of the dinner passed without further incidents. Some guests joined in a lively dance once the meal was over, and laughter was heard in the hall as the wine continued to flow.

Aemond glanced at her several times, concerned about her obvious discomfort. She didn't want to spoil his celebration, so she tried to offer a reassuring smile whenever their eyes met.

She found herself caught up in various pleasant conversations with the other nobles present, mostly with Daeron, who was her same age, and Heleana. She tried to keep away from Aegon as much as possible. Aemond, on his part, approached her on several occasions, rescuing her from the dull talks of the elders. He tried to distract her with amusing anecdotes from his training or asked her about stories of dragons, which she knew by heart. Though her mind was elsewhere, she appreciated his efforts to make her feel comfortable and protected.

Finally, as the feast began to wind down into the night, Aemond approached her with determination in his eyes.

"Princess, would you like to take a walk through the gardens? The night is beautiful" he suggested.

She smiled, grateful for the chance to get away from the bustle. "I would love to, my prince."

Together, they left the main hall and made their way to the quiet gardens of the castle. The moon shone above them, illuminating their flowers lined path as they walked silently along. Aemond seemed less tense now, more relaxed under the starry sky, offering her his arm courteously.

"I'm sorry if anything made you uncomfortable tonight" Aemond finally said, breaking the silence. "I hope nothing else happened" he murmured, a slight concern in his eyes.

She shook her head gently, feeling comforted by his worry. "It's not your fault, Aemond. I'm fine. Just... I'm not used to being without my family."

He nodded, looking at her with understanding. "I know. And I know sometimes people can be... thoughtless" he said, almost apologizing again.

They walked a bit further in silence before she found the courage to speak about what she was really thinking. "Do you ever feel that way, Aemond?" she hesitated for a moment. "Like you don't quite fit in?"

He stopped and looked at her directly, uncertain. His eyes, under the full moon and clear sky, seemed deeper, more reflective, sadder at her question. "Sometimes," he admitted softly, "but when I'm with you, princess, everything seems to fall into place. I do hope you feel the same."

Her heart skipped at his sincere words, feeling a twinge of guilt for longing to return to her family. "Thank you, Aemond. Should we head back? It's getting chilly."

He smiled, softening his features. "Yes."

They continued walking together, enjoying the peace and serenity of the night. As they progressed, leaving the gardens behind and climbing the keep stairs, she said, "I hope you've enjoyed your day, my prince." He nodded. Once they reached the hallway they shared, she whispered: "Should I visit you tonight?"

"Of course" he replied naturally, offering a comforting smile.

"You said Aegon would bring your gift, I wouldn't want to arrive at an inopportune moment" she said, reminding him.

He nodded, realizing he had forgotten his earlier conversation with his brother. "You're right. Maybe I should come instead. I can come right after he leaves" he suggested, and she eagerly agreed to the plan.

When they finally stood in front of the door, with no one in sight, her hands began to sweat nervously. It was just a temporary farewell, like countless others before, so she didn't understand why her body felt so restless, or why her heart was pounding so hard. And why were her thoughts centered on whether kissing him would ease her mind?

Before pushing the door, she turned to him, catching Aemond’s smile, oblivious to her internal doubts. "May I, perhaps, try something?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, hoping she hadn't misinterpreted any signals.

He arched an eyebrow, curious at her question, but nodded in consent. Without further ado, she took a step forward and, with determination, closed the distance between them. She pressed her lips gently against his, all her questions melting away in that fleeting moment. She closed her eyes, unable to see Aemond's initial surprise.

When they parted, Aemond's face was flushed, his eye wide with astonishment, causing a flutter of concern in her chest. Before she could apologize, he mirrored her action, leaning in and returning the innocent kiss. This time, both closed their eyes, letting themselves be carried away by the moment as their hands instinctively intertwined.

As they pulled away, shy but content smiles graced their faces. The special discovery left them breathless.

"Goodnight" she whispered, a thrilling buzz inside her.

"Goodnight" he replied with equal softness and carrying the same exhilaration.

Once inside, the room was again in perfect order, something she was thankful for. Aemond always seemed to value the organization and she wanted him to feel like in his own space. Peaceful, comfortable, happy. Her chambers were perfectly illuminated by the moon and the glow of the fire burning in the fireplace, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

She walked to the door she used every night, leaving it slightly ajar, then shed her dress, donning her nightgown and slipping immediately into bed. She tried to immerse herself in the book on her nightstand, but her mind kept returning to the shared kiss. Touching her lips with the tips of her fingers, she wondered if it had also been Aemond's first time. She hoped it was.

Soon she realized it was futile to try to distract herself with the book. Her heart still raced, and her mind was full of questions and anticipations. She tossed and turned in bed, unable to stay still as she waited for Aemond to arrive. She was worried, fearing she had ruined everything with her impulsiveness. Or worse, that Aemond had changed his mind after that.

Exhaustion finally overcame her, her head swirling with thoughts, and she fell asleep hoping everything would be okay between them.

The sun stung her face as she began to wake, the warmth of the morning enveloping her. There were faint noises in the room, but still too sleepy to make them out, she tried to ignore them. Suddenly, her eyes flew wide open and she sat up abruptly. The bed was empty, but the secondary door remained open, an invitation to scolding from her lady-in-waiting.

Lyra soon noticed she was awake. With a sorrowful expression, she approached the bed slowly and sat beside her. The princess's gaze searched for answers, but none of her assumptions came close to the reality.

"A raven has arrived today from Dragonstone, my princess..." Lyra began softly, choosing her words carefully. She nodded, attentive and anxious to know more, urging her to continue. "Your father, Prince Leanor, has passed away" she announced.

With those words, the princess's entire world shattered once more in an instant. Tears began to cascade uncontrollably, unleashed without any permission, but she knew it was only a matter of time, a storm that had been brewing finally erupted. Her overwhelming feelings of longing for her family and the unsettling sense of being like a stranger in the castle where she had grown up intensified her anguish even more. Guilt and regret gnawed at her, constricting her chest and stealing the air in her lungs. Lyra tried to soothe her, urging her to breathe, but it was in vain. 

So many moons spent in the Red Keep, precious time lost with her father that could never be reclaimed. Now, with the loss irreversible, she couldn't even seek answers about how it happened, the trauma of Harwin Strong's death still raw. Her chest tightened, heaving, as her mind spun relentlessly, refusing to accept what her ears had heard.

Lyra enveloped her in protective arms, a bulwark against the whirlwind of emotions crashing over her as the harsh news unfolded before her. "We must leave immediately, there is a ship waiting for us" she murmured softly, aware of the princess's magnitude of pain, but to the urgency of the situation too.

Tears continued to flow unabated as she nodded, succumbing to the overwhelming sensation of loss and guilt that engulfed her. She allowed herself to be consumed by it while Lyra hurriedly guided and helped her dress. Once ready, servants entered to assist with the luggage, moving efficiently as those who understood the gravity of the moment, and Lyra asked her to wait while she gathered her own belongings.

When the lady disappeared from her sight, she, with a pounding heart, hurried to Aemond's room. Upon arrival, Queen Alicent was just stepping out, her face a mask of concern and sorrow.

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss, princess" she said with palpable sincerity in her voice, closing the door behind her, but condolences were a luxury she could not afford now. She needed to see if everything was okay with Aemond before leaving, the thought of departing without clarity on their relationship or at least a farewell filled her with unease.

"Is Aemond awake? I wish to see him" she implored softly, tears silently streaming down her face. People passed around her—members of the council, servants—all casting sympathetic glances that went unnoticed.

"He does not wish to receive visitors at the moment" the queen replied firmly.

"But it is urgent" she insisted, desperation seeping into her voice. She tried to move past her and grasp the door handle, her hands trembling but determined, but the queen stopped her.

"I'm very sorry, princess, but you must understand" Alicent said, her tone unyielding.

On the brink of collapse, with each passing second more overwhelming than the last, she pleaded, "please" but received only refusals.

Moments later, Lyra appeared carrying a suitcase, hurrying towards her. "My princess, we must depart now" she said, after offering a courtesy to Alicent.

"But I need to see Aemond" she insisted, her voice a desperate whisper. Lyra looked to Alicent silently pleading for a concession, searching for a shred of sympathy, but the queen remained unmoved, her gaze fixed on the princess.

"We can exchange letters by ravens, yes? But the ship will depart soon, princess" Lyra said, her words weighted by both empathy and urgency.

She felt frustration and helplessness engulf her, on the verge of shouting in rage. With no other choice, she took Lyra's hand and let herself be led away, each step a battle against the hopelessness that surrounded her.

@helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @callsignwidow @scarletbedlam @fics-i-love-and-recommend @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me

Last part from her POV as kids!

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 18

Summary: When his laptop starts giving him shit, Joel asks for Y/N's help to fix it which leads to her snooping on it against her better judgement. Wanting to be a better man, Joel goes to Negan to apologize and be more open with him which leads to Joel accepting to be the man he was never allowed to be.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/157394716 Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, Smut, m/m sex scene, bottom!Joel, Top!Negan, etc.

Notes: My schedule is all fucked up with this story and I'm sorry for that! I obviously won't finish it before Christmas, but I will do my best. This chapter has a m/m sex scene in it. So, putting that out there! You can choose to ignore it if you like. Thanks for reading!

Even though she enjoyed having the time to spend with those that she cared about, there were certain days where Y/N regretted taking as much vacation time as she did from work. Having a busy mind would help her get through the days that she was alone, but since she never took any time off during the year, this was more of a forced time off. Regardless, she had still logged into work today to see if there was anything she could help with. Considering she was all alone today, she didn’t think it would be much of a problem. Joel had a meeting with a potential client, Negan had something to do and the children were with their friends.

Earlier in the day, Joel had come to her in a panic before his meeting because his computer had frozen on him. Joel was convinced it had something to do with the e-mails that he received after he went viral with Negan in New York. Part of him worried that someone had sent him a virus of some kind because they hated Negan. And while that was a possibility, she was certain that Joel’s computer was just giving him shit. It was older. While things were still ill at ease between them with what happened, Joel had stressed to her how worried he was because he had all of his important files and contacts saved on there. Along with photos and videos of the children. He was afraid of losing them, so she offered to help him.

Joel was never really good with technology and she worked on computers all the time, so she really didn’t see it as a big deal. When things went wrong with work at home, she was the only person for the most part that could be IT and fix things herself. So while she was working on something for work, she had been running a system restore point for Joel. And she had also promised to get him a portable hard drive to help him put all of his files onto it so he didn’t lose them.

While she wanted to be mad at Joel, she couldn’t be. Even if she wanted to. Multiple times he texted her and she’d respond. Today was just the first day that they spoke face to face. And while he had a meeting that he had to go to, it didn’t stop Joel from attempting to talk to her about everything. Apologizing multiple times for what he had done the other night at the Christmas Fest when he was drunk. The amount of times he apologized was quite extensive. It was all he could really focus on. How sorry he was. It seemed to really upset him what he had done. He had stressed to her multiple times how much he loved her. How he wanted to do everything right and make her happy. How he wanted to be a better version of himself. Several times he promised her that he wanted them to be close and work on their relationship together.

When his phone went off with Tommy asking him where he was, Joel had to run off. And she promised him by the time that he got back she would have everything handled with his computer. By the time she was done with what she needed to do for work, she returned to Joel’s laptop and it seemed like the system restore point had worked.

From all their years together, she knew Joel’s password was Peter’s name and Elizabeth’s birthday in numerical form. Making sure that the computer was working, she logged into it and was happy to see that it was opening normally. As everything loaded, she realized the folder that he had open was family videos. A video was already open and curiosity got the best of her. Hitting the play button made her smile when she realized that it was a family video from Christmas time of them together.

A sense of awe flooded her veins over the fact that was the last video that Joel was watching before his computer decided to give him shit. Closing up the video, she grabbed the portable hard drive and started to copy some of his family videos onto it so he wouldn’t lose them. Actually, it was pretty cute how many family videos he did have on his computer. Ranging as far back as Elizabeth being a baby. She could see why these were so important to Joel.

While that folder was copying, she went back to his overall videos folder. Joel wasn’t very good with naming things. He was the complete opposite of her. Also opening his photos folder, she felt her throat tighten seeing that some of the first few photos she noticed were Joel and Tess together. They had broken up a while ago, yet Joel still had photos of them together on his computer. Then again, she knew Joel was messy with how he kept things. Dragging his photos folder onto the hard drive, she dropped that down and then went back to looking at his video folder. Clicking on a random folder, she opened a video that was inside of it and let out a tense breath when she realized what it was.

A nervous sound escaped her lips with her looking over her shoulder to make sure that she had turned her computer off so there was no way that her camera was on. When she made sure it was off, she let out a relieved sound and looked to Joel’s laptop again. Stretched out on the bed in the video was a younger version of herself very much naked laying on their bed. It immediately clicked with her that this was one of their personal, naughty videos that they had done together that Joel had assured her that he would delete.

Maybe she should have stopped, but she was watching the video with her heart hammering inside of her chest. A much younger Joel walked into the screen wearing only a pair of light-colored jeans. In the past, Joel was always very much turned on by taking videos of them having sex. It was a kink of his and she was starting to realize that he hadn’t gotten over it. In the video Joel was going down on her with her cries filling the air. Watching closely, she felt her body tensing up when Joel shed his pants and she realized this was one of their romantic sexual moments. While she got the appeal of the videos, considering they had children that were smart, Y/N didn’t know how safe it was to keep these.  

Closing that video and opening another, she felt her face flushing over with heat when she realized it was a video of her giving a blowjob to Joel from his perspective. Quickly closing the video, she felt her face getting hot that he kept all of these. Opening another one, she saw Joel laying over her with her face down on the bed. Joel was setting the camera up on the nightstand before returning to her. When he had the camera the way he wanted, the younger version of Joel smiled and crawled back in over her. His hand curled around her throat pulling her head back while his other hand reached between them to lead his hard cock into her. A loud smacking sound filled the air with Joel filling her and she felt her body getting hot at what she was watching. Unlike the first one, this was pure filth in terms of the kind of sex that they were having.

Honestly? She probably should have stopped there, but she didn’t. Opening video after video of the things that Joel had kept between them. Stopping on one, she realized it was one that was toward the end of the part of their marriage before Joel started to grow cold with her. The video was better probably because Joel was so used to doing the videos. You saw everything in this video. Which mortified her. What if one of the children went on his computer and saw this?

“Look at me,” Joel demanded, his fingers grabbing a tight hold of Y/N’s jaw in the video while their loud, broken breaths continued. The smacking sounds of their skin filled the video while Joel kissed her. Joel’s forehead pressed to hers with a big smile expanding over his features. “I love you.”

There were two thoughts going on in her mind right now. Panic if the children had ever seen this and the other was her wondering what it was that made Joel fall out of love with her not long after. Because in this video? The way that Joel looked at her took her breath away. He was obsessed with her back then. Hooked on her and always wanting to touch her, kiss her and be with her.

“You need to stop,” she huffed to herself, scrolling through the same folder. Truthfully? There were so many videos that they took together that she couldn’t believe she even allowed him to do it in the first place. It was a vast array of things that they had done since they were together. Yes, some of them did get her hot and bothered, but she didn’t know if it was a bad or a good thing that it did.

Part of her was worried that going through the videos she would find something of him and Tess together. But the more she scrolled, the more she began to realize that there was nothing. Which was strange because that was one of Joel’s biggest kinks when they were together. Deep down she had mentally prepared herself to see videos that Joel had done with Tess, yet there were none.

Confusion flooded her veins with just how happy she felt to know that he didn’t have any. Why she felt that way was beyond her. And she was embarrassed to admit that it did make her so fucking happy.

Sliding in closer, she narrowed her eyes and focused on the images realizing the date on one of the videos was toward the end of their marriage. In the thumbnail all she saw that it was Joel and she opened the video up.

“I reckon you’ve been lonely lately and I thought that maybe this would help you,” Joel’s southern drawl filled the air and it had her leaning back into the chair.

This was a new one for her, one she had never seen before. But it was certainly when she was still married to Joel because he had his wedding ring on. Sitting forward in the chair he was in, Joel tugged at the blue t-shirt that he was wearing. Tossing it aside, Joel leaned forward in the chair dragging his fingers across his chiseled jawline. A laugh fell from her throat when Joel flexed his bicep in the video drawing attention to his muscular form. Standing up, Joel stepped back so the camera got just to the top of his head and to his mid thighs. Back then, Joel was in a little better of a shape than he was now with v-line leading toward the top of his pants. Maybe this was something that he made for her in the past but never sent her because they had gotten in a fight. Back then, Joel was a little more arrogant with his body. She definitely remembered those days with Joel palming up over his chiseled abdomen toward his chest. Caressing at it, Joel lowered his hands and dropped them over the belt that he was wearing. This was his way of being seductive and it made her laugh again the way he dragged his fingers across the belt. Tugging it open, Joel took his time opening his jeans and slightly tugging it down over his hips. In the movement, he took his boxer down with it revealing the dark curls of hair right above the base of his cock in a teasing moment.

Turning around in the video, Joel pushed his pants down over his ass to reveal it. Maybe she was wrong for watching it, but since she was married to him at the time, she really didn’t see what the big deal was. Through the video, Joel focused on flexing a little bit before turning to face the camera again. By the time he pushed his pants down fully, his cock bounced with the movement and it made her sigh. Joel jerked off standing up for a bit in the video before adjusting the camera so he could sit back down in the chair and continue.

Back then, she was completely head over heels for him. Back then? Who the fuck was she kidding? She was always going to be head over heels for Joel. So watching these videos was wrong on her part especially since she knew that they would have some kind of effect on her. Really she should have been more mortified than she was that he kept these videos.

At the end, cum was covering Joel’s chest and abdomen with an arrogant smile tugging at his lips. Joel reached for a tissue and cleaned himself up before sliding in closer to the camera to flash a sheepish smile, “I hope you enjoyed that Lucille, it’ll give you something to keep you hot while Negan is gone.”

Suddenly, she leaned forward to stop the video after hearing that bit, “What the fuck?”

Realizing that Joel had his e-mails open and his phone messaging was connected to the computer, Y/N felt a sense of rage flooding her veins. Opening the e-mails, she realized that Lucille’s e-mails were already loaded in the search bar. Snooping was beneath her, but she felt overwhelmed seeing what she just did. Going through the emails, most of them were them just talking. In some of them, he talked very highly about Y/N, but in others he said really awful things about her to Lucille. It seemed like two miserable people in marriages where they needed a friend to talk to. But she did eventually find e-mails of them flirting with one another. What seemed like was originally innocent, turned to e-mails with occasional sexting. But eventually it seemed like things stopped.

If he was doing this with Lucille…suddenly Y/N’s heart sank. Typing in Tess’s name, she found the e-mails that Joel had with her realizing that his e-mails with her were also very sexual during their separation. Upset flooded her body and she knew that it was wrong, but she dived deeper into things opening up Joel’s text messages that were connected to Joel’s phone.

Opening up his messages with Tess, she acknowledged that the last time that Joel wrote her was months ago.

Can we talk please?

That came from Joel after they broke up. Part of her wondered if it wasn’t a mutual thing with them breaking up.  

Scrolling through a few things, the last message she saw came from Tess.

Goodbye Joel. You’re still hooked on your ex-wife. Nothing you can say can change my mind. You’re always talking about her. Comparing me to her. Your heart knows what you want. So does mine. I can see why your marriage ended with Y/N if you were as cold with her as you were me.

Pushing away from the table that Joel’s laptop was on, she didn’t know how to respond to everything that she had seen. Tensing up, the sound of the door opening was heard and she looked back over her shoulder to see that it was Joel entering the house with a big bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag of take out in the other.

“I know you wanted me to ditch the keys, but this was a good day with work,” Joel started to ramble, closing the door with his heel. “I figured I would get us something to celebrate and hoped we could talk. I picked up the Chinese food that you like and…”

Joel’s smile faded when he saw the expression that was over her face and he let out a nervous breath, “What’s wrong?”

Noticing that the laptop was on, Joel nodded toward it and tipped his head to the side, “Did you figure out everything with the computer?”

“I did,” she answered, folding her arms out in front of her chest. Lowering the flowers at his side, Joel was attempting to read her expression. “I started putting your files onto a separate hard drive so you didn’t lose them.”

“Thank you,” Joel muttered, his head shaking from side to side. “Why are you looking at me like that? I know that expression all too well. It’s been quite some years since I’ve seen it.”

“You left a lot of shit open Joel,” she explained with him setting the flowers and the food down on the coffee table that was in front of the couch. “And maybe I got to snooping. First of all, I thought you promised me when we were together that you would delete all of our sex videos. Yet, I found them. Very easily in your videos folder.”

“Oh,” Joel’s face went red, his chocolate-colored eyes lowering down to the floor. “I just, I uh, I liked those so much that I had a hard time letting them go. I’ve actually watched a few of them lately when I was alone because…”

“Our children aren’t stupid. What if they found the videos Joel?” she snapped at him and it had Joel exhaling loudly. “Joel?”

“They know better than to go snooping on my computer Y/N. It’s my work computer. They both have access to their own computers. They wouldn’t have found it,” Joel assured her, but she wasn’t sure that was the case. It was so easy to get a hold of that anyone could have found the videos. “I never shared them anywhere else. They are just on my computer and…”

“How about you jerking off for Lucille?” Y/N snarled and the expression Joel made looked like he had been hit in the gut with her mentioning that. “While we were married none the less.”

“I…that was…” Joel’s stuttered, his voice growing deeper when he was trying to respond to her with something he could say. “I didn’t…it was…”

“You can’t lie Joel. I did the wrong fucking thing and went through your e-mails,” she was honest with Joel who moved over toward the edge of the couch to sit down on the arm of it. Slouching forward, Joel looked like he was going to be sick. “The two of you were pretty much having an affair.”

“No, no,” Joel was quick to deny her claim, throwing her hands up in the air. “I never had sex with Lucille. Ever. We just talked sometimes and that was it.”

“You sent her a video of you masturbating Joel. I read the e-mails of you two sexting each other,” she threw her hand back toward the computer knowing that she was getting worked up over everything that she found. “We were married and you were still doing that shit. Yet you swore up and down that you never cheated on me!”

“I didn’t!” Joel defended himself, his chest aching with being caught for something he did over four years ago. “I never, ever had sex with anyone while we were married. I fucking swear. All that stuff on the internet was innocent. I never acted on it. Yeah, I sent some photos or some videos, but I swear I never had sex with anyone. You can’t think I did that because…”

“What does it matter if you didn’t fuck anyone while we were married?” she screamed back at Joel noticing the color that was pressing over Joel’s cheeks. “You got divorced so you could. You were desperate to get your dick wet by someone else and you did. And that’s why you divorced me. Now you have and you realized no one is going to put up with you like I did. No one is going to…” she paused, a saddened sound falling from her throat. Lowering her head, she felt her breathing broken and she shook her head. “No one is going to love you like I do.”

“Now that’s not fair,” Joel claimed, throwing his hand up in the air, his face scrunching up at her anger toward him. “I did some fucked up things toward the end of our marriage, but this was four years ago. I’m not the same man.”

“I know, but I just learned this Joel,” she let out something that resembled a sob and she lowered her head hating that she was getting emotional over her breaking into someone else’s private files. “I read the things you said about me to Lucille. You really did hate me.”

“I was very confused back then, but I never hated you,” Joel claimed, his raspy voice growing nervous since he was hoping to work on their relationship, yet she was doing nothing but learning about the worst parts of him from so long ago. “Please, don’t judge me for what I did back then. I know that what I did was wrong, but you have to realize that we were kids when we got together. Your teens and your twenties are when you are supposed to go nuts. Try things. Instead, I was busy being a dad. I only had sex with a few people before we got together and I thought I was missing out on things. I just…”

“You were my first Joel and I was never with anyone else,” she interrupted him, tears burning at her eyes having Joel trying to excuse what he had done. “Yet you didn’t see me desperate to go and fuck other people because I wanted to experience life.” 

“You’re right. I was wrong and I see that now,” Joel agreed with her desperate to have her understand that he wasn’t like that anymore. “I know what I did was wrong. So wrong. But please understand that I’m not that man anymore. Other than Negan, the only person that I’ve been around or even interacted with is you. I don’t have that urge anymore. I had chances to sleep with other people, but I won’t take it because I want to be with you. And…Negan. I want us to work out something with the three of us.”  

“I know you’re not that person Joel,” she alerted him having Joel get anxious about the way she was responding to all of this. “But what you were doing with Tess and Lucille was cheating.”

“By sending photos and videos?” Joel visibly didn’t believe that was cheating. “When we were married I never touched another woman. And I didn’t send anything to Tess until after we were separated. I didn’t cheat on you.”

“But you wanted to,” she focused on the idea of it finding herself heart broken once more by everything that she read and saw. “I think Negan would kill you if he read what I did. If he saw what I saw.”

“I agree,” Joel acknowledged with a disappointed breath. “I was stupid Y/N. What I did was wrong. But I see that now. I stopped talking to Lucille after you and I got divorced. I regret it because she was the one real friend I probably had. Those things...those things you saw were just a small part of us being bored. Did you see her last e-mail? Because that’s what our friendship was really like. We didn’t want to fuck or have sex. We were just two friends that understood each other and what the other was feeling. But then the last e-mail she wrote me, it said everything.”

“Joel, I don’t…” she was going to refuse him, but Joel got up and moved around her to open up the last video that Lucille sent him. Forcing her to watch it by turning her chair to look at the laptop. Instead of fighting Joel like she wanted to, she watched the video and he could tell that it was making her emotional. When it ended, Joel sat on the edge of the table in front of her.

“We really were just friends. You see she loved Negan and she knew I loved you,” Joel insisted going to reach out to touch her, but he reconsidered it with how upset she had been over finding everything and instead lowered his hand down at his side. “I feel horrible. I feel this terrible sense of guilt because I abandoned her and I was the one person she had been open to throughout everything. I knew that she had cancer and I never responded to that e-mail Y/N. I didn’t even see it until the other night. I dropped the ball on everything. I was an asshole and I hate the person that I became. I loved you, I hurt you and I hurt one of my only real friends.”

“I don’t even know what to say right now Joel,” she confessed to him being disappointed with the things that she learned. “You always played yourself like you were a certain kind of person and you weren’t. Back then I was so head over heels in love with you and you meant everything to me. I made you so miserable and…”

“I want to go to therapy,” Joel announced, caressing his hands in over his thighs getting her to lift her saddened eyes to his. “I want to be better for you, I want to be a better friend to Negan. I made so many mistakes and I hate it. I want to make things better, be better for all of you.”

“I don’t know,” she frowned lowering her head and he could hear that she was crying. “I need some time Joel.”

“Y/N? I’m not that guy anymore,” Joel threw his hand toward the computer seeing that she had opened his text messages with Tess so she saw their last interaction together. “You can see that you are it for me. That I have been so hooked on you that even Tess saw it. I love you. I love you so fucking much and…”

“I know Joel!” she yelled at him, getting him to lean back and swallow down hard again. “I know all of this. And right now? You should be furious with me for invading your privacy because I was wrong. I was so wrong to do that to you. And I don’t even know why I’m so fucking upset because we’re not married anymore. I’m not your wife. You’re not my husband. So this shouldn’t upset me like it does.”

“It upsets you because you love me,” Joel reasoned with her, outstretching his hands to cup her face in them tenderly. “I love you Y/N. And you love me. We’re soulmates and nothing we do is going to change that. That’s why it hurts so much. The two of us need to talk. I’ve been thinking really hard about the whole idea of the three of us being together and I…”

“Joel,” she laughed, holding her hand up in the air to stop him from continuing on. “That’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

“You don’t want that?” Joel frowned, his chest aching at the thought of her no longer wanting to be around him because of what he caused. “I thought you wanted to be with both of us. I thought you loved me and him…”

“I do,” she whimpered, getting up from the desk chair to move over toward the couch to sit down. “It’s just right now I’m not okay. I just learned that the person that I was married to wasn’t the man he led me to believe that he was and it doesn’t feel good.”

“I’m sorry,” Joel moved forward to get on his knees before her, giving her a pleading expression when her eyes finally connected with him. “Please understand that I hate the man that I was. I hate the man that I’ve been…but I know what I am now. I know how I feel about things. And I love you more than anything in this world. Other than our children of course. There is something I need to talk to you about from when I was younger. I haven’t told anyone about it and I only just told Tommy, but I think if you let me talk to you about it, you’ll understand some things about me and why I am so broken. Why…”

“I need time Joel,” she restated with a frown, lowering her head into her hand and it had her letting out a tremoring breath. “I just need to think about things, okay?”

“Y/N, please? Let us just talk things out,” Joel begged of her again, his hands grabbing a tender hold of hers. “If there is one thing I’ve realized lately it is how much I truly, genuinely love you. How my world only feels complete when you’re in it. Nothing means anything to me when I don’t have you by my side. I could have all my dreams come true from when I was a kid, but it wouldn’t matter if you weren’t there with me because I’m miserable without you. I’m sorry it took what it did for me to realize just how much you really meant to me.”

Dipping forward, Joel attempted to kiss her, but she was quick to place her hand in over the center of his chest to stop him, “I love you too Joel. And I appreciate the things that you are saying, but right now, I need some time to myself. I promise you I won’t snoop any further on your computer. I’ll let everything run and when it’s done I will make sure everything is safe. Your computer will be ready for tomorrow. Okay?”

“Y/N?” he whispered her name again wishing it wasn’t going down like this. “You’re more important than my computer. You understand that, right? It could be broken for all I fucking care because you mean more to me than anything on that computer.”

“Joel, I love you,” she claimed, her hand outstretching to caress down over the side of his face. “And you’re right. I do have to acknowledge that you aren’t the man you used to be. And I think it’s brave that you want to get help. If I’m willing to accept that Negan is a different man than he used to be, I have to be willing to accept that you are too. And I see that you are. I’m not kicking you out of my life. I want to talk to you. I want us to talk. And I’m not saying no to things, I’m just saying right now I need time to think. I can’t remember the last time I got to be alone and just think things out. And I need that.”

“I was really hoping the two of us could have dinner together and we could talk. About us and maybe our future?” Joel reasoned with her having her frown and bite down on her bottom lip. “Trust me when I tell you that being alone is the worst thing to be when you are upset because you think the worst things. Alone you are going to think negative things about my feelings for you, but I need you to know that I am a very fucked up person. I am very confused about all the emotions and the feelings that I have had. But the only thing I’m one hundred percent sure of is that you are the purest thing I’ve ever had in my life. My feelings for you? How much you mean to me. That’s the only thing I understand. How much I love you. I fight this war in my head of whether or not I’m good enough for you and the simple answer is that I’m not. I’m not good enough for you. But you are the only person that makes me want to do better. You are the only person that I want to be the best version of myself for. There are parts of me that I have hidden my whole life, things I’m not comfortable with, but I’m open to letting them shine through if I have you in my life. You are the realest thing I’ve ever known in my life. Even when nothing makes sense, the only thing that does make sense to me is you. And I know I’m just talking a whole lot right now and I reckon I’m upsetting you, but I know that the good parts of me? The parts worth keepin’? They are there because of you. I need you to know that. I can’t have you thinking otherwise. You can’t keep hurting yourself and thinkin’ things that aren’t true. I’ll give you what you want and I’ll leave. But please don’t keep beating yourself up because I can’t leave knowing that’s what you’re going to do.”

“Joel,” she slid forward on the couch, her fingers brushing into his dark hair. With a weak smirk, she leaned in to bring their lips together in a faint kiss that took his breath away when she pulled slightly back. “I hear everything you’re saying. I do.”

“Okay,” Joel frowned, his thumb dragging out across her bottom lip with sadness flooding into his big brown eyes. “Just promise me you won’t hurt yourself with your thoughts. Because I’m the biggest culprit in doing that and it does nothing good.”

“I promise we can talk about whatever it is you want to talk about,” she almost naturally kissed at the pad of his thumb having Joel suck in a sharp breath of air. “I just need some alone time right now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel whispered, lifting up enough to press a lingering kiss against her face. Caressing at the back of her neck, Joel tipped back slightly to gaze down at her. Pressing one final tender kiss over her lips, Joel got up and pointed over toward the food and flowers. “That’s for you. Whenever you want it you can have it.”

Joel headed for the door, but stopped when he grabbed a hold of the door handle, “You are perfect. You were always perfect. And I did have an amazing life. A life people could only dream of having. The perfect wife. I wish I would have never hurt you like I did because you deserved nothing but love. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hide anything from you anymore. I will never be that person again. I swear.”

Heading for the door, Joel grabbed a hold of it and stopped when she called out to him, “I understand you want to be honest, but don’t tell Negan what happened between you and Lucille, okay? I don’t think he could handle it.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel swallowed down hard regretting that he let it get to that place so long ago. “Thank you for not wanting me dead.”

A tense exhale fell from Y/N since Joel knew he’d probably die if Negan knew what had happened in the past. Giving Joel a nod, she slid back on the couch and pulled her legs up to her chest to hug them close, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she replied back taking his breath away when he gave her a half-smirk. “If you ever question that Joel Miller, then you don’t have your head on straight.”

“I question it sometimes,” Joel smirked, lifting up to grasp at his jaw appreciating that he made her smile with his response. Sadness still lingered in her eyes and he knew that he couldn’t fix it right now. He just had to do for her what she asked from him and give her time. That was the best he could do.

----

This was a stupid idea and Joel knew it. Standing in the middle of a snowstorm, waiting for the door to be answered was a far shot. Especially after what he did and said. At this point he had knocked several times and rang the doorbell once.

Clinging to the bag at his side, he started to realize that his nose and ears felt like they were going to freeze off. It was cold and even though he had his jacket on, it wasn’t doing much to keep him warm. One final ring. That’s what Joel told himself. Truthfully? He should have left already, but he didn’t.

When no one came, Joel huffed loudly and felt ashamed of himself. There was some sense of hope that this would go well, but now he was just someone standing out on the porch waiting for someone that was never going to open up to him.

Turning on his heel, Joel stepped down from the porch only to hear the sound of a front door being pulled open. Looking back over his shoulder, Joel felt his throat tightening at the sight of a soaked Negan standing before him in a pair of athletic pants, holding a black t-shirt at his side. Water was dripping from his hair and he looked flustered.

“Before you say anything,” Joel spoke up, approaching Negan while he took his time putting on his t-shirt. Which only made sense since he was standing in the doorway soaking wet during the middle of a snowstorm. “I know you likely don’t want to see me, but…I’m sorry. I was an asshole. A big one.”

Slicking back his hair, Negan leaned against the doorframe and then folded his arms out in front of his chest waiting for whatever it was that Joel was going for. Lifting the bag that was in his hand had Negan’s eyes lowering to look down at it.

“I came with a peace offering,” Joel commented noticing that Negan was still silently eyeing him over now instead of the bag. Sighing loudly, Joel wondered if Y/N had called Negan and told him what happened. Maybe they talked and he learned what an asshole he had been previously. Dropping the bag down at his side, Joel released a disappointed sound and nodded back toward his truck. “I guess I’ll just leave.”

Turning away, Joel heard a whistling sound drawing him to look back again. Wiggling his fingers gesturing for Joel to follow him, Negan stepped back inside of his rental home. Carefully moving back up the sidewalk, Joel headed into the house and closed the door behind him. Negan was already at the fireplace setting a fire to warm the place up.

“I just got home and I was taking a shower,” Negan informed Joel, not even bothering to look back at Joel while he worked on the fireplace. “By how much snow you are covered in, I assume you were out there a long fucking time before you decided to ring the bell.”

Staying quiet, Joel brushed his fingers through his hair realizing that he was in fact covered in snow still. Getting up with a grunt, Negan moved across the room and motioned Joel to turn around. Allowing Negan to take his jacket off, Negan went and set his coat to dry.

“Why don’t you sit by the fire and warm up?” Negan offered, holding his hand out toward the seat that was there, but Joel simply just lifted the bag to suggest that he had something else.

“The offering might melt,” Joel explained having Negan roll his eyes and motion him toward the kitchen. Following Negan into the kitchen, Joel set the bags on the counter. “Did you eat?”

“Not yet,” Negan responded with a huff, leaning against the counter with Joel pulling something out of the bag. Holding one of the cans out to Negan had a confused smile tugging at Negan’s lips. “Canned ravioli?”

“We used to eat it all the time when we were younger,” Joel reminded Negan with Negan reading over the label of the can of food. He didn’t know why, but Joel was nervous. “I remember us eating it all the time growing up.”

“We were poor as fuck,” Negan snorted, clinging tightly to the can of food. Moving over toward the cabinets to grab two bowls for them, Negan set them down on the counter. “It’s been a while since I’ve had these, but sure? Why not?”

“There’s something else,” Joel motioned Negan to wait after he grabbed the can and returned it to the bag. Pulling the next item out of the bag, Joel turned on his heel, holding out the ice cream that he had bought. Accepting the ice cream, Negan looked it over with the lines in his forehead growing. “I know that offering you ice cream in the middle of a snowstorm seems kind of stupid right now, but…”

“This was Lucille’s favorite,” Negan commented, swallowing down hard and lifting his hazel eyes to stare out at Joel. There was an emotion that Joel couldn’t read with Negan staring out at him.

“It was,” Joel exhaled loudly, with Negan’s confusion flooding his face. “I thought maybe we could eat the Chef Boyardee and then afterwards have some ice cream to remember Lucille. Together.”

“Of course you know her favorite ice cream,” Negan frowned, setting the ice cream down on the counter. Grumbling something under his breath, Negan pinched at his nose and shrugged. “The two of you were secret best friends behind our backs after all.”

“I don’t think you would want to call me that,” Joel thought back on his relationship that he shared with Lucille when he was younger. “I wasn’t a very good friend and calling me her best friend would be giving me too much credit.”

“I don’t understand why you two had to hide that you were friends,” Negan commented, frustration visible behind his eyes. A loud gust of wind outside caught both of their attention having them look to the window to see that it was snowing even harder. “I wouldn’t have fucking cared. I would have been fine with it.”

“We were both going through things,” Joel explained, reaching back to brace himself by curling his fingers around the counter. “When one of us needed someone to talk to, we’d talk to each other. Send each other videos, voice messages, e-mails…sometimes she just needed to get things off her mind that she couldn’t talking to someone in her real life and vice versa.”

“I see,” Negan was quiet, his jaw flexing when he looked to the ice cream again. Taking time to think about everything, Negan finally shrugged his shoulders and let out an extended sigh. “We obviously have a lot to talk about.”

“I agree,” Joel breathed out thinking about the things that Y/N had found not much earlier on his computer. Then he thought about the thing that Y/N had asked of him before he left. God, this was stupid, but if he wanted to be a better man…if he wanted to be someone that proved he was changing, he needed to tell Negan what Y/N knew. Because if he didn’t, it would always eat away at Y/N around Negan and probably the same for him. “I have to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” Negan realized that Joel was likely going to be there for a while since this was the worst storm he had seen since arriving in town. There was no way that he was going to let Joel drive home in this storm. Even if it meant having him sleep on the couch.

“I did something bad,” Joel tried thinking about this whole thing. Going back and forth between things, Joel knew it was for the best to go forward with it. “I want to be more like you. I want to be honest with the people that I care about.”

“So now I’m someone you care about?” Negan scoffed, turning back toward Joel. Rolling his eyes, Joel dropped his head and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Yes. Very much so. Yes,” Joel answered in a whisper, a lump growing at the center of his throat. Licking his lips anxiously, Joel started to realize how cold he actually was right now. Especially with his white t-shirt and his plaid button up being wet. “Which is why I’m doing this.”

Folding his arms out in front of his chest, Negan leaned back against the counter giving Joel his full attention and that truthfully made Joel a hell of a lot more nervous, “When Lucille and I were talking, most of the time it was innocent. We’d talk about our lives, our emotions, our anger…but…” Joel paused considering right now if this was the smartest idea. “There were times when we’d talk a little…heated?”

“Come again?” Negan obviously thought he didn’t hear Joel correctly with Joel clearing his throat. God, this was stupid. And Joel was truthfully preparing for the worst.

“It was originally initiated by me, so don’t think she did it, but we’d sometimes role play a bit. Talk about sex. Things that we’d do to each other if we were together,” Joel stammered fighting the urge to stop talking because he wanted Negan to know what he had done. By Negan’s expression that was not what he was expecting to hear from Joel in the least. “Things on her end were mostly innocent?”

“Mostly?” Negan repeated, his face scrunching up and by that expression? Joel knew Negan was pissed. The color was draining from Joel’s face and he realized he entirely fucked up with going forward with this, but he had to be honest. From this moment on he always swore to do so to be a better man.

“Yeah, mostly. I got an occasional risqué photo. I also did send her photos and videos of my…” Joel paused, his face getting hot when he directed his hands toward the center of his pants. “I’m telling you because Y/N was working on my computer today. She discovered some of those videos and read some of our e-mails. And I’ve decided that I don’t want to hide from people about the asshole that I used to be. I want to have the trait that you have of telling people everything.”

“You sent my wife dick pics?” Negan smirked uncomfortably with Joel nodding his head. There was a silence that filled the house and the only thing that was heard was the loud wind that was outside. “Did the two of you ever fuck?”

“No,” Joel immediately threw his hands up in the air and cleared his throat. “When I was married to Y/N, I never had sex with another person. It was only at the end of our marriage that I talked dirty, I sent some videos of me jerking off sometimes and the occasional nude photo, but I never…”

With a swift move forward, Negan’s fist connected with Joel’s face having him fall to the ground in a thud at the center of Negan’s kitchen. Groaning out, Joel rolled onto his stomach with his hands covering his face. For a skinny guy, Negan sure as hell hit fucking hard. Hitting his hand against the floor, Joel tried to count to himself. Most of the time if someone hit him, he would fight back, but he knew with this hit? He deserved it.

Ten minutes later Joel was sitting on the couch holding a pack of ice on his nose while poking at the bowl of the warmed-up ravioli that was on the coffee table with a fork. Negan was sitting beside him eating his bowl of ravioli and Joel huffed, “Did you have to hit me so hard?”

“It was a one and done,” Negan spoke with a mouthful gazing over at Joel who pulled the ice pack from his nose. Reaching out with his free hand to grab a hold of Joel’s chin, Negan observed Joel’s nose and shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t look too bad.”

“Oh, good. I just bled all over your floor for the first five minutes,” Joel sarcastically stammered, resting the bag of ice back over his face.

“You fucking deserved it,” Negan snorted shoving another piece of ravioli into his mouth, looking to the television where he had on a football game. “First, for what you told me. Second, because Y/N hasn’t done it to you. Third cus’ you kept suggesting I’m only doing this to get back at you when you know I was and am very much fucking in love with Y/N. And fourth because I needed to knock you back for last night. My jaw still fucking hurts from your first hit.”

Groaning out, Joel dropped his head back against the couch and adjusted the pack of ice over his face, “So she said she doesn’t want to talk to you, huh?”

“She told me that she needed space and time,” Joel recalled what Y/N had told him before she kicked him out of the house. “I don’t blame her man. She sees what I did as cheating. And in a way, I guess it was.”

“It wasn’t so much cheating as it was having an emotional relationship with other people,” Negan explained, his throat flexing with his next bite of his food. “You were going to someone else to talk to instead of coming to her and you were sharing parts of you that at the time, belonged to her.”

Dropping the ice pack into his lap, Joel scoffed and then reached for the bowl of food that Negan had made for him after he helped him clean up his face, “So you saw my wife’s parts?”

Instead of speaking, Joel looked to Negan and chewed slowly. There was a muscle that twitched in Negan’s jaw and he scoffed, “they were good parts.”

“Your wife was very attractive,” Joel agreed with Negan as he reached out to turn the volume down on the television with the remote that was on the coffee table. “Both of our wives were very attractive.”

“I still think you’re insane,” Negan claimed, finishing off his food waiting for Joel to finish with his. However, Joel was being very slow with eating since Negan assumed it hurt for him to eat. The look that Joel gave him was that of someone who wasn’t surprised but was waiting for the why. “Y/N is perfect, I don’t know how you could have left her for Tess. Not that Tess isn’t attractive, but I remember what she was like when we were younger.”

“I didn’t exactly leave her for Tess,” Joel blurt out with a mouthful, his head immediately shaking at the suggestion. “Yes, I dated Tess for a while, but I just wanted to experience life. I could say the same thing about you with Lucille. We both made idiotic decisions that looking back on don’t make too much sense.”

“Touché,” Negan scoffed getting comfortable on the couch again, dropping his head back against it.

“Then again you were never stupid enough to let Lucille go,” Joel compared the two of them out loud, “I should have never divorced her. I don’t know what I was thinking. Thinking back now I realize what a big mistake it was. When I was younger I was certain I would lose her to you and then I’m the one that lets her go.”

“Joel,” Negan slurred, his head dropping to the side to gaze out at Joel who was still poking at his food. “I don’t mean to point this out, but what you’ve told me with Lucille and what you did when I was young with Y/N, you do realize that it feels like you’re the one with a fucking vendetta against me, right? You’ve been claiming I’ve done all of this to get back at you, but…”

Muttering something under his breath, Joel shoved another piece of ravioli into his mouth and it had Negan snorting at the way he was avoiding the answer, “Way to avoid the conversation.”

“I’m not avoiding it,” Joel huffed sitting forward so he didn’t have to look at Negan even though out of the corner of his eye he could still see that Negan was staring out at him. “It’s just not true. I don’t have a…vendetta against you.”

“Mhmm…” Negan didn’t say much with Joel finishing up his food. After Joel set the bowl down on the coffee table, Negan was quick to pick them up to go clean them. With Negan gone, Joel just took that time to put the ice pack back on his face. Not long after Negan dropped back down onto the couch, patting his hands on his thighs. “I actually have a theory, but I think I’ll make you pissed if I say it.”

“Like it would be the first time you pissed me off,” Joel reasoned with Negan who gave a dramatic expression while considering it.

“Not yet,” Negan announced, contemplating his next thought. “You got really angry with me about doing the thing at the bar with your singing. Why did you get so bitchy about it? You can’t tell me that it didn’t feel good being up there. Living out your dreams. Your kids told me you went viral with me and Y/N told me about all the e-mails you have been getting with your job alone.”

“Because everything I have, I did myself,” Joel spoke honestly, his eyes sincere when he did actually look at Negan for this answer. “I don’t like people handing things to me. Yes, it felt good to be appreciated for something I used to love to do, but it would have meant more if I did it myself. I’m just that kind of person.”

“I see,” Negan took time to think about the answer. “Did anyone else contact you?”

“Other than the hundreds of e-mails that there was no way I could truly get through them all?” Joel mumbled, throwing his hands up while keeping a tight hold of the ice pack. “My laptop fucked up and that’s how Y/N got a hold of it to see all the stupid shit I did when we were nearing our divorce.”

“I just can’t picture being married to Y/N and letting her go,” Negan swayed from what they were talking about eliciting a grunt from Joel at how fast he seemed to change the topic. “I swear, just the way she looks at you—Lucille used to have the same kind of look. Where you know that she loves you. It takes my breath away.”

Watching Negan, Joel felt his throat tense up knowing that he still wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of Negan with Y/N, “And God, with sex? I can’t get over what she’s like during sex. The way those eyes lock on yours when she’s about to give you a blowjob. There is something about the way that she gets a rise outta you first. The way she just kneels down between your legs. Those teasing touches where she palms over your thighs and down your legs to squeeze at your calves before up again. I like how she just doesn’t jump right into it, y’know? She makes it a big thing. Even when she starts to undo your belt and your pants. It’s so sexy. The want…the passion…”

“Negan?” Joel breathed out, noticing that Negan was caressing over his own thigh.

“But her actual blowjobs?” Negan growled, dramatically bobbing his head about and throwing his hands up in the air to stress his words. “God? It’s the perfect mix of firm and delicate. With the way her fingers curl around your cock. She truly worships your body. You know? Just slow, focused touches. She’s so meticulous with the way that she watches you to make sure you’re enjoying it. And the way she wets her lips with her mouth so close to your cock? Teasing the warmth of her breath over your shaft having your anticipation growing. Wanting her to take you in. And then when she starts to lick it? Treating you like you are her own personal lollipop that she is so fucking thankful for. It just leaves you begging for her to take it into her mouth. And when she plays with your balls? Christ.”

Joel felt a warmth flooding through his veins. It should have been anger, but the way Negan was saying and stressing things, Joel noticed that his heart was starting to pound inside of his chest, “By the time she finally takes you into her mouth? Fuck, you’ve already been begging for it. And the way she keeps her eyes locked on you with the warmth of her mouth just focusing on the tip? It almost feels like she tries to fucking overstimulate you to get you sensitive before she starts to really give you the blowjob. It’s incredible what she’s fucking capable of considering she’s only been with two men.”

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Joel shifted beside Negan with him continuing on, “And when she wants to be on top? Fuck me. I feel like I’m a teenage boy all over again with how excited I am. The way it feels when she finally gets the tip inside of her? Fuck, it feels so good. With the warmth of her tight pussy just clinging to you as you stretch and fill her until she takes all of you in. The way she looks is like she is experiencing the purest form of pleasure she has ever…”

“Okay,” Joel interrupted Negan reaching for the pillow that was beside him to cover his lap with it. After all of that Joel realized he was starting to get hard just with the detailed descriptions and it made him embarrassed. “Enough.”

“Did I give you a boner?” Negan chuckled with Joel’s face flushing over. A loud rumble of laughter fell from his throat with Joel shifting uneasily beside him pushing the pillow further into his lap.

“You did it on purpose,” Joel suggested feeling embarrassed with Negan so amused with what he had done. By the way Negan was talking, Joel knew that was exactly what Negan was going for. “I am attracted to her and you’re talking about something I know very well. My body liked picturing what you were selling. And you knew it would.”

“Eh, it just tells me that you’re bisexual,” Negan alerted Joel waving his hand about showing that he had indeed done it on purpose. “I was just testing things.”

“Testing things? How do you reckon I’m bisexual with me getting a hard on from you getting me to picture the woman I love doing those things?” Joel was confused, his right eyebrow arching up in curiosity.

“Because if you didn’t get an erection from me doing that I wondered if you truly were bisexual or if you had a preference for men,” Negan explained further why he did what he had done having Joel breathing heavily.

“Why do you suddenly think I’m extremely gay?” Joel scowled, his voice sounding angrier with each passing second. “Just because you’re the one that is open to fucking other men doesn’t mean I’m like you. I’ve been with one man based on conflicting emotions that I got when we had a threesome with Y/N and you’re the one who has slept with God knows how many men.”

“Right, you only slept with me because of conflicting emotions,” Negan snorted, his eyes rolling before he stood up from the couch and paced in the living room.

“It’s amazing that the internet seems to think you are this incredible ladies’ man,” Joel stood from the couch still keeping the pillow over him with one hand to hide himself from Negan. Negan moved over to the corner of the room to get himself a drink from the alcohol shelf that was there and Joel could feel a rush of anger flooding through him. “Yet you don’t have a problem with smoking pole and you do a hell of a job at it. How have you not gotten your ass beat by your team with you being…”

“Being what? Is this where you’re gonna mock me for being attracted to men?” Negan wondered, turning on his heel taking a long sip of the alcohol before hissing out. “Go for it Joel, it’s not like I haven’t heard the gay jokes before. So go ahead. Bring them on.”

Negan wiggled his fingers and it had Joel’s jaw tensing, his eyebrows bouncing up when Negan shrugged his shoulders, “Go ahead buddy. Let’s hear it. I am attracted to men, women, people in general. So if you want attack me for it, go ahead. If that makes you feel more comfortable about your sexuality, bring it on buddy. Make daddy proud.”

Joel’s lips parted like he was about to say something and Negan tipped his head to the side, raising his free hand to place it against his ear like he couldn’t hear Joel.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Negan snarled, finishing off the glass that he poured for himself. “You want me to feel bad about myself for that? I don’t. You act like there weren’t signs of you being bisexual when we were younger which is fucking hilarious.”

“I’ve never slept with another man before you,” Joel scoffed when Negan poured himself another drink and went over to the couch to rest against the back of it. With the way Negan was looking at him, Joel immediately shook his head and cleared his throat. “I didn’t.”

“Right because jerking off with your friends was totally straight,” Negan’s voice changed, his jaw flexing when he saw a bit of color flush into Joel’s face. “Like I’m supposed to forget the two of us jerking off all the time together. How at first we’d just sit across the room from each other. And how we gradually got closer to one another until you started jerking me off and vice versa. So fucking straight.”

Joel said nothing, just lowered his head down with his lips parting, “I don’t know what got into you to make you this raging homophobe toward yourself, but your dad is dead Joel. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not for a man that isn’t even here anyways. If you want to say you just got excited by the porn, go for it. But we both know you paid way more attention to me jerking off than you did the porn. And let’s not forget, it was you that touched my dick first. You wanted me to fuck you so bad back then.”

Moving around the couch, Joel stared down at Negan while he finished off his drink and set the glass down, “So tell me Joel. What kind of fantasies did alpha Joel have back then? Did you want me to fuck your ass or did you want to fuck mine? It had to kill you when we were in the showers together. Seeing me naked and knowing that you had to pretend to be straight when all you wanted was to fuck me.”

A moment later, a strong amount of force yanked Negan out of the chair pulling him up to his feet. Joel had the material of Negan’s shirt balled up in his fist when Negan chuckled and shrugged, “Go ahead Joel. Beat up the queer guy. Get that straight male rage out. Prove you’re so straight that you would hurt me just for suggesting that you had feelings for me when we were younger.”

“Fuck you Negan,” Joel shoved Negan back into his chair making it tip back slightly.

“What is wrong with having feelings for another man?” Negan snarled at Joel who went over to the edge of the couch to bury his head into his hands. “You were more attracted to me than you were her when we were younger. Yet now you’re pretending that you never had an ounce of gay in you,” Negan was angry with Joel who lifted his head up from his palm to glare out at Negan. “Don’t lie. It was me you wanted to have sex with. I always wondered why you didn’t like her. She crushed on you so hard and she didn’t make it a secret. But no, it was me that you were constantly around. I always thought I saw you sneaking looks every time we were naked around each other. It also makes sense why it infuriated you that I was saving my virginity for the woman that I was in love with. Why you always fucked with me and made me feel bad about my relationship with Y/N.”

“I wasn’t gay,” Joel stressed with a rumble of an angered sound. “I’m not gay.”

“I never said you were. I’m suggesting that you’re a bisexual struggling with your sexuality,” Negan growled, his eyes narrowing with Joel’s breathing growing louder. “Notice you don’t deny what I’m saying. It was me that you had a crush on. And then you fucked her to get back at me. It was then you realized just how fucking perfect she really was. I don’t blame you for that because she was pure and everything right in the world. But pretending you’re this straight homophobic piece of shit is ridiculous. Maybe your father was like that, but you’re not. Being attracted to me sexually doesn’t negate your feelings for her either. You can still be head over heels in love with her and still want to explore that part of you.”

Standing up from the chair that he was in, Negan moved across the living room and stepped before Joel, “You can do that because she gave us permission. She gave you permission, but you’re scared. It doesn’t upset her.”

“Yeah Negan. What do you want me to say?” Joel bit back an angered breath. “Yes, I liked you. I liked you so fucking much. And I knew I wasn’t supposed to. I knew it was wrong. When we started doing things together, you hadn’t done anything with Y/N yet because she was too fucking young. But I wasn’t stupid. While she was always in love with me, you were always in love with her and I…”

Tipping his head to the side, Joel rolled his eyes and forced himself to keep his head down while he rubbed at the back of his head, “You’re right. I always liked you. But you know just as much as I do what happened to me. So being this way with me is cruel. Stop mocking me for the way that I felt. The way that I feel because my father beat the shit outta me Negan. You know that. I had to pretend everything was fake or else I lost everything. And you dropped it just as quick. Liking you led to me getting my ass kicked by someone I loved. Someone I thought was a good man. So please stop mocking me.”

“Joel,” Negan breathed, backing off with Joel getting upset about what happened when they were younger. “That wasn’t my intention. I just want you to be able to be yourself.”

“It’s hard,” Joel stressed, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “You saw me. You knew how much he hurt me. So please give me a break if I’m taking my time opening up to the idea of being attracted to women and…you. Because liking you got me punished. Real bad.”

“You’re right,” Negan swallowed down hard, giving Joel a firm nod. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about it like that. I’m fucking sorry.”

Nodding his head, Joel tried not to get emotional about everything when he shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, I was jealous that you were head over heels in love with Y/N. I wanted you to like me. And I did what I did because you embarrassed me, but I’m telling you the truth when I say that falling in love with her? That wasn’t against you. I told her and she doesn’t believe me, but I questioned if I was gay or straight for a long time. I just knew that I wasn’t right. And then this one time in class I was talking to our friends on the team and I saw her smile while talking to someone in the front row. It took my breath away. And then when we slept together? The way it felt, the way she looked at me? I fell immediately. So it wasn’t to hurt you. I felt things for you. I feel things for you. Things I wasn’t allowed to follow through with, but I fell deeply in love with her. And that wasn’t a vendetta against you.”

“I believe you,” Negan stammered, his hazel eyes narrowing with him caressing down over the side of his own face. “I saw the way that the two of you looked at one another. I’m not stupid. Nor am I blind. But the Lucille stuff?”

“We got carried away,” Joel didn’t have a good enough reason for what happened with them back then. “We were close, she was beautiful. I don’t know what to tell you Negan. We both have good taste I guess? It wasn’t about having a vendetta. I was always jealous of you Negan, we both know that. But…”

Stepping before Joel, Negan’s eyes locked with his and he outstretched his hands. Placing them in over the center of Joel’s chest, Negan caressed down over the lengths of his abdomen. Stopping at Joel’s belt, Negan started to work it open having Joel swallowing loudly, “I know Joel…”

Sliding his hand over the front of Joel’s pants, Negan cupped Joel in his palm with Joel watching closely. Closing the distance between them, Negan’s breath was warm against the side of his neck and it had Joel’s eyes coming to a tight close. Working open Joel’s pants, Negan was rough in the way he got the material of Joel’s jeans and his boxer briefs down in the front allowing Joel’s rigid manhood to bounce free from its confines. Firmly curling his fingers around Joel’s shaft had Joel groaning out when Negan’s started caressing over his body. Sheathing Joel’s cock again and again had Joel panting against the side of his neck.

“You don’t have to be mad at yourself for liking me. It was never a problem that you did,” Negan bit at Joel’s chin area before pressing kisses up over Joel’s jawline. “Your dad was an asshole. You’re not broken. There is nothing wrong with you. You’re so angry at the world because you were never truly allowed to thrive mainly because of your parents. Stop being so angry Joel and allow yourself the things that you want. Together we can all work to break down this wall you had to put up to hide behind. Behind it’s helping no one. Y/N is okay if you like me. I’m okay with it. Allow yourself to be okay with it.”

“I’m such a fucking mess,” Joel confessed, sucking in a sharp breath of air with Negan starting to pepper kisses against the side of his neck.

“Yeah? So am I,” Negan scoffed, his hand continuing to caress over Joel’s flesh, “You should just allow yourself to be pampered by the two people you want most in the world.”

“You don’t understand,” Joel winced, biting down on his lip. It felt like the room was spinning around him and he had to close his eyes.

“I understand why you think you need to do what you are,” Negan stated pulling his hand from Joel’s length having Joel whine when he did it. “I just don’t agree with your decisions.”

Dropping carefully to his knees, avoiding hurting his bad knee, Negan grabbed a firm hold of Joel’s pants tugging them down. Stumbling to stay on his feet, Joel breathed heavily with his eyes lowering down to watch Negan. Pushing up at Joel’s button down and his white t-shirt, Negan kissed at the area below Joel’s belly button. Compared to what he was used to, it felt different with Negan’s short beard teasing at his flesh.

Palming down in over Joel’s hips elicited a sharp exhale from Joel. Sliding his hands around Joel’s hips, Negan grasped at Joel’s fleshy bottom and slid his hands down to the back of Joel’s thighs before up again. Nipping at the area just below Joel’s belly button had his hand lifting to sink into Negan’s thick hair.

“Please,” Joel stammered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Tipping his head back, Negan dragged his bottom lip up the length of Joel’s hip toward his lower abdomen again. The way Joel’s big brown eyes were focused on him made Negan smile. “Please Negan, I need this.”

“Look at you begging,” Negan muttered arrogantly, his eyes narrowing with Joel sounding and looking incredibly desperate. Giving a single nod, Negan adjusted his knee so he’d be more comfortable. Each stroke of Negan’s hand over Joel’s cock grew quicker going from base to tip. Feeling Joel slightly bouncing his hips forward with every movement of Negan’s hand over his uncut cock made an amused rumble fall from Negan. “See, if you just accept yourself as you are, you don’t have to worry about begging me to suck your cock Joel. You can just have it and not feel guilty.”

Joel’s face grew tense when Negan extended his tongue out, tapping Joel’s cock against the wet, warmth of it. Involuntarily, Joel’s hips flexed bringing his hips closer to Negan who snickered against his flesh. The sensation drew chills down Joel’s spine and he tugged harder at Negan’s hair.

Catching onto the frustration, Negan started to press wet kisses over the tip of Joel’s swollen member. Every caress of his lips over Joel’s sensitive flesh grew stronger until Negan took Joel into the warmth of his mouth. One hand squeezed at Joel’s hips while the other stroked over Joel’s shaft. Together his hand and mouth worked in unison to provide Joel with as much pleasure as he could. Taking Joel further back into his throat had Joel’s head tipping back with a raspy moan falling from him. Negan was taking his time letting his tongue tease over every ridge of Joel’s cock and he felt like this was big for Joel since he was allowing himself to be more open to the person he wanted to be.

Wet sounds filled the air as Joel started to unhurriedly thrust his hips forward toward Negan’s throat. By the pressure that was over his hip, Joel knew that Negan wanted to control this tempo, but it was almost instinctive to meet those movements.

Even though Negan knew Joel was excited to explore this whole thing, when Joel started to thrust his hips just a bit too hard it had Negan pulling back with a wet popping sound. It drew out a disappointed grunt from Joel who was breathing loudly.

Unexpectedly, Joel reached down to grab a firm hold of Negan. How easily he pulled Negan up onto his feet surprised Negan. Balling Negan’s shirt up into his grasp had Negan falling forward bringing them closer together.

Eagerly, Joel moved forward to bring their lips together in a forceful kiss that shocked Negan. Grunting against Joel’s mouth, Negan realized there was some sense of Joel trying to show dominance in the moment, but he was too focused on that instead of allowing things to feel good.

“Dial it down a notch,” Negan instructed, pulling his mouth away from Joel to drag his thumb across Joel’s bottom lip. Collecting the dampness that was there, Negan shook his head and hushed Joel. “We’re both alpha males, but we don’t have to beat the shit out of each other to make a point. Slow down. For fucks sake. Allow yourself to enjoy things.”

“I’m new to this,” Joel defended himself, taking Negan’s thumb between his lips to flick his tongue out against the tip of it. A deep rumble of a moan escaped Negan with his eyelids growing heavy. Fuck, he wondered if Joel realized how much that turned him on.

“You can’t be this rough with Y/N, are you?” Negan inquired finding himself completely impressed when Joel took his thumb into his mouth. Trying to keep it together, Negan felt his heart skip a beat with the way that Joel was sucking faintly at his thumb and then nibbled at the tip.

“Sometimes,” Joel breathed loudly, his eyes heavy with lust in the moment.

“Well chill the fuck out,” Negan snickered looking down between them. Shoving Joel had him tripping over his own pants that were hooked around his ankles. Falling back onto the couch, Joel grunted with Negan shaking his head. “There is a storm outside, we have time to explore this.”

Pulling at his own shirt, Negan raised it above his head stretching out his long torso when he tossed the material aside on the floor. Adjusting the waistband of his black athletic pants, Negan watched as Joel fumbled to open his button-down shirt that he was wearing.

“How is this supposed to work?” Joel gulped down with a pant, struggling to get the material from his body. “I don’t know what to do with this whole poly thing.”

“It’s the three of us sharing each other mutually. No anger. No jealousy. She can have you or me. You can have me or her. And so on,” Negan stated, sucking at his bottom lip. With a crooked smirk, Negan knew that this would be a hard thing to agree upon, but he felt like it was the most positive outcome for them all. “That way, we’re all happy.”

“And she’s okay with that?” Joel inquired grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt. Pulling it from his body, Joel tossed it aside. Going to work off his pants, Joel let out a tremoring breath when Negan motioned him to stop. Lowering down, Negan grabbed a hold of the material and tossed them to the ground with a thud.

“Have you been listening to her?” Negan wondered, holding his finger up to motion Joel to wait. Moving down the hallway, Joel wondered if he should have been following Negan who soon returned to the living room after shoving something into his pocket. Stepping before Joel had Joel’s chocolate brown eyes lifting up to stare at Negan. Shakily leaning forward, Joel’s fingers made contact with the side of Negan’s hurt leg and it had Negan sucking in a sharp breath of air. Rubbing his cheek in over Negan’s thigh through the material of his pants, Joel closed his eyes with Negan stroking his fingers through his thick hair, “I think once you learn to accept who you are, you’re going to love yourself so much more Joel.”

“I don’t even know who I am,” Joel admitted with a tremoring breath. It was true. There was so much about himself that Joel didn’t understand.

“And that’s what we have to work on,” Negan hummed stroking his fingers over the back of Joel’s neck. “First, you have to stop hating yourself for things you can’t control. Feelings you’ve had since you were a teenager.”

“I hate myself for just about everything,” Joel confessed, tipping his head back to meet Negan’s eyes with his big puppy dog stare. “You don’t understand…”

“I do. I understand hating yourself very much,” Negan swept his thumb in over Joel’s jaw realizing how eager Joel was to have Negan touch him. “That’s not a new feeling for me Joel. It’s been there my whole life too.”

Clasping Joel’s jaw between his thumb and index finger, Negan bit down on his bottom lip and nodded toward the couch, “Lay down with your head resting on the arm of the couch.”

Obeying, Joel lazily stretched out on the couch doing as he was instructed. His mouth went dry with Negan palming over the front of his pants gazing over Joel’s body, “Are you a top or a bottom?”

“Neither, I like both,” Negan responded with a wrinkle of his nose. “Both have their merits and both feel really fucking good when done right. Both fucking take a certain talent. Focus. Relaxation. Preparation. Each provides different kinds of pleasure.”

Moving to the couch, Negan got on his knees over Joel hovering over Joel’s chest. Pushing down the waistband of his athletic pants in the front, Negan allowed his semi-erect cock to pull from the material. Touching himself, Negan felt a rush of excitement at the way Joel’s dark eyes gazed over his body.

“You seemed to like both the other night,” Negan reminded Joel of their time together in New York. The reminder had Joel’s face growing hot with red flooding into his cheeks at the reminder of them sleeping together. “Wet your lips.”

Glaring up at Negan, Joel was dramatic in the way he did it and Negan sank his fingers firmly into Joel’s hair, “This dick isn’t gonna suck itself.”

Outstretching his arm, a firm smack filled the air followed by a groan from Negan after Joel hit him. Wincing, Negan rubbed at the side of his face. There was a pinging sensation from the hit and Negan rolled his eyes. Returning the gesture, Negan smacked at the side of Joel’s face. It was enough power to make a point with Joel hissing beneath him.

Bracing his left hand in over the arm of the couch, Negan licked his lips while leaning forward. Curling his fingers at the base of his own cock, Negan placed the tip of his manhood at Joel’s lips hearing Joel’s breathing getting louder. Parting his lips, Joel allowed Negan to push his length into the warmth of his mouth. Circling Negan’s girth with his lips, Joel’s eyes closed with him attempting to deliver to Negan what he liked with a blowjob.

“That’s it,” Negan hummed starting to thrust his hips toward the warmth of Joel’s wet mouth allowing his cock to grow fully rigid with Joel pleasuring him. “Don’t forget to use your tongue.”

Tipping his head back, Negan moaned with Joel listening to his direction. This was what Negan assumed was Joel’s first time really giving a blowjob, so it really wasn’t that bad for a first time. Dropping his head back, Joel’s wet lips kissed at the shiny tip of Negan’s cock getting a growl from the man over him. “You have nice lips, y’know that?”

“I got a lot of nice things,” Joel breathed with a weak smirk pressing another wet kiss at the underside of Negan’s erection. Getting up from over Joel, Negan stood at the side of the couch. Digging into his pocket, Negan pulled out a condom and some lube which had a breath catching in Joel’s throat. Holding out the condom, Negan waited for Joel to grab it. Accepting the condom, Joel swallowed down hard with Negan kicking out of his athletic pants. Holding onto the condom, Joel considered it for a while until lifting the condom back up toward Negan. “I want you to be the top.”

“Are you sure?” Negan inquired, his eyebrows furrowing after taking the package back from Joel. Setting it aside, Negan wiggled his fingers motioning Joel to lay on his stomach. “I need to prep you like last time.”

Carefully rolling over, Joel got comfortable and let out a long exhale. The warmth of Negan moving in over him had his eyes coming to a tight close. Negan was cautious with the way that he moved over Joel starting with caressing over Joel’s shoulders to get him relaxed, “That’s not what I thought you were going to focus on.”

“You wanna loosen up all around before this,” Negan commented working on Joel’s tight muscles. Grumbling Joel buried his head further down enjoying the way that it felt. Sinking into the couch, Joel realized that it had been a very long time since he had anyone doing this for him.

“You keep doing this and I’m going to fall asleep,” Joel alerted Negan with a tired breath finding himself getting too comfortable. “What happens after we do this?”

“What do you want to happen?” Negan inquired, the warmth of his breath hovering in over Joel’s shoulder. Depositing faint kisses there, Negan listened to the sounds that Joel was making to see if he seemed comfortable. “Depends on you I guess. I love Y/N, it’s not gonna change. She means everything to me. I’m still gonna be attracted to you. I’m open to trying something between the three of us. See where it goes.”

Once Negan started caressing over Joel’s lower back it had Joel looking over his shoulder. A chill ran up Joel’s spine with Negan’s hands dragging down over Joel’s sides, “Are you safe with sex?”

“I’d like to think I was safe,” Negan responded reaching out to grab the bottle of lubrication that he had brought with him. “I don’t ever try to hurt anyone, but you never know what someone is comfortable with.”

“Not what I mean,” Joel turned his upper half, his jaw flexing when Negan started to squeeze at Joel’s ass. An involuntary moan escaped Joel’s throat with the way that Negan was touching him, surprising even Joel in that moment. “I mean, do you wear condoms?”

“I have only slept with three people without a condom,” Negan alerted Joel with a wrinkle of his nose having Joel lower back down onto his stomach. “I also am checked out all the time by a healthcare professional with my job.”

“Lucille, Y/N and…?” Joel waited for the answer having Negan snort when he heard it. “What?”

“Are you forgetting the other night all together?” Negan stammered, his eyes narrowing with Joel turning onto his side to look back at him. “You were kind of eager at the apartment the other night. I was in my pajamas, you didn’t have condoms, it was meant to be a family trip…”

“Oh,” Joel’s lips were parted as Negan made an amused expression. “I didn’t think about that. Why are you doing it now?”

“Because practicing safe sex is a good thing?” Negan suggested, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity. “Not saying that you’re dirty or anything, but…”

“Got it,” Joel retorted with a rumble, his head lowering with Negan continuing to palm at his fleshy bottom.

“I kind of assumed after the threesome it was okay…” Negan’s words lingered and the sound of the lid of the lube opening was heard. Breathing loudly, Joel’s eyes squeezed shut tighter with the sensation of the cool liquid dripping down over his body. “What about you?”

“Just…uh…two,” Joel breathed against his arm, biting down on his bottom lip. It sounded kind of ridiculous thinking about it, but he never trusted someone enough to do that with them. Especially when he already had two children, “And you’re the second so…”

“Boy scout,” Negan joked, bringing his palm down firmly over Joel’s ass provoking a wince from his throat. “You have such a nice ass.”

“Jealous?” Joel smirked with an amused rumble. Another firm smack over his bottom caused him to grunt this time.

“I have a nice ass too, mine just isn’t so big,” Negan defended himself with a growl, circling his fingers at Joel’s pucker having Joel clench up before him. “Relax or nothing will feel good. If this isn’t what you want, I’ll happily switch with you.”

Doing as he was told, Joel bit down on his bottom lip with Negan’s fingers pressing into him. It had Joel wrapping his arms around the throw pillow that was there. Truth was? Negan was very gentle. And probably very good at getting him prepared. Most people could only be so lucky to have Negan be the first person they slept with in this case.

“I think Y/N wishes you would have been her first,” Joel admitted getting a quiet laugh from Negan behind him. Warmth pressed in over the side of his neck as Negan’s lips descended down over it. “You’re good at what you do.”

“If I would have been her first, I was a virgin then too,” Negan reminded Joel with a smirk, nipping gently at the skin over Joel’s neck. “It might have been careful and gentle, but it probably wouldn’t have been great. Lucille let me know that I could use some work.”

A low rumble of a moan escaped Joel and he turned his head a certain way so Negan could pamper the side of his neck with kisses, “But you knew Y/N’s body better than Lucille’s.”

“Regardless, no one is perfect their first time,” Negan defended, nuzzling his nose at the area right behind Joel’s ear. Shudders flooded Joel’s body and he sucked in a sharp breath of air. “What was meant to happen, happened.”

Arching his back, Joel let out another moan with Negan’s fingers preparing him with finesse. The sensation of Negan’s fingers leaving his body had him breathing unevenly, panting even. A force pushed at his body to get him back onto his back with Negan hovering over him. Grabbing the condom again, Negan worked open the package and then took his time putting the condom on. Pouring a decent amount of lube into his hand, Negan worked it over his body and reached for Joel’s legs. Placing them in over his shoulders, Negan adjusted Joel the way he wanted him. Beneath him Joel seemed nervous and it had Negan pausing.

“This isn’t your first time,” Negan reminded Joel with a smirk reaching between them to line his body up with Joel’s. “You obviously liked it enough to want it a second time.”

“I wasn’t looking at you last time,” Joel countered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat with his right hand lowering to loosely hook his fingers around Negan’s wrist.

“Well I’d rather look at your pretty face with those big brown eyes,” Negan pushed forward, sinking some of his length into Joel’s tight opening. Exhaling loudly, Joel lifted his head and Negan shook his head. Allowing Joel to keep his fingers wrapped around his wrist, Negan braced his other hand on the arm of the couch. Starting off slow, Negan’s lips parted with his eyes rolling back to a close. A muscle flexed in Negan’s jaw and Joel was more so focused on Negan’s face rather than how things felt. Once things started to get a bit faster and harder with the smacking of their skin, Joel found himself moaning involuntarily with his head dropping back. “Is this everything you wanted when we were younger?”

“Negan,” Joel frowned hating that they were going back to their earlier conversation.

“Stop pretending you didn’t want this,” Negan demanded, his hips smacking harder up against Joel drawing gasps from his throat. “Is this what you pictured?”

“You’re hotter now,” Joel winced, his fingers squeezing around Negan’s wrist.

“You’re hotter now,” Negan repeated with a wrinkle of his nose, amused with the response he got out of Joel. “You prefer the alpha male as opposed to the twink?”

“Yes,” Joel swallowed down hard, his eyes rolling back to a close with the sensations Negan was drawing out of him. Dropping his other hand, Joel curled his fingers around his cock and caressed in tempo with Negan’s thrusts. “I just liked your personality. I liked how you didn’t take…”

Joel moaned out loudly, his hand pumping faster over his length with Negan plunging into him time and time again, “anyone’s shit.”

“The fact I had a big cock didn’t hurt either,” Negan mused with a grunt, pressing faint kisses at Joel’s leg.

“I wouldn’t have cared what your cock looked like,” Joel growled having Negan drop Joel’s legs down so he could crawl in closer to Joel. Bracing Joel’s thighs over his hips Negan made sure he could bring their lips together in a heated kiss. Brushing his tongue out against Joel’s had Joel groaning into his mouth. “Harder.”

“No,” Negan shook his head knowing that he was already moving as hard and fast as he thought Joel could take being new to this whole thing. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You’re infuriating,” Joel curled his fingers around the back of Negan’s neck to bring their mouths together again in a powerful movement with both of them fighting for some kind of dominance in the kiss. Pushing his hand aside, Negan curled his fingers around Joel’s length now pumping his hand over Joel’s distended flesh. “Fuck…”

“There we go…” Negan panted, with Joel dropping his head back against the pillow. Hovering his lips in over Joel’s, Negan felt the first splash of Joel’s cum at his lower abdomen followed by the next few ropes of it covering both his and Joel’s chests. Caressing him until the very end of his orgasm, Negan then focused on his own release working to build himself up until he finally did come with a roar. Allowing his hips to come to falter, Negan pressed a lingering kiss over Joel’s lips and then carefully pulled away. Working the condom from his body, Negan disappeared into the kitchen to throw it away. Returning he saw that Joel’s abdomen was sinking and rising repeatedly from breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Why didn’t you just tell me you liked me?”

Tapping at Joel’s legs, Negan dropped down at the other side of the couch and stroked his fingers over the length of them. Waiting for an answer, Negan made a dramatic expression with Joel rolling his eyes, “You were head over heels in love with Y/N and vice versa. You two were my best friends. And I knew that she had a crush on me. I don’t know. It was embarrassing. “

“Why be a dick?” Negan was still looking for answers from their past. Joel brushed his fingers through his wet, messy hair to slick it back. “You know what Y/N meant to me.”

“I was the most popular kid in school. I had an image to uphold and you embarrassed me. They expected me to do something to get back at you,” Joel reasoned with Negan, throwing his hands up in the air. “I didn’t expect to fall in love with Y/N, but I did. Very much so.”

“I know,” Negan sighed loudly, curling his fingers around Joel’s foot to give it a tight squeeze.

“I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for what I’ve done,” Joel confessed with a saddened expression. Sweeping his fingers over the inside of Negan’s thigh had Negan’s head tipping to the side. “I had so many chances and I blew them Negan.”

“You have two things going for you that will never keep her away from you,” Negan pointed out, curling his other arm around the back of his neck to get more comfortable. Joel waited for the answer and Negan clearly thought it was obvious. “Liz and Peter.”

“She loves you though,” Joel claimed with a shake of his head.

“And I love her,” Negan stated firmly with his dimples becoming more prominent. “Nothing is gonna change that for me. That doesn’t negate her feelings for you though. She always told me that she still loved you and I always told her that I was okay with that.”

“I am such a fuckup though,” Joel realized feeling guilty that everything played out the way it did.

“You weren’t always,” Negan noted remembering what the two of them were like when they were younger. “Everyone in this town wanted to fucking have a relationship like the two of you. Losing your parents hurt your mental health and you’re doing your best. Now you’re aware of your actions and it’s up to you to work those feelings out. Test the waters and make things right.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Joel admitted, sliding further down on the couch so that way they were closer to one another.

“Nothing is easy in this life Joel,” Negan vowed, his free hand placing in over the center of his chest that was still damp with sweat. “You just have to do your best and that’s all you can do.” 

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis @jennydehavilland

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

So because apparently both parties in my country oppose trans healthcare to some extent I want to make it very clear to cis people what healthcare they're opposing.

There's a lot of fearmongering about children undergoing medical transition. So I'm gonna walk you through what might happen to a child who is transgender and wants to go the full medical route. Let's say our hypothetical transgender child, I'll make him a him because I'm a him and I'll call him Rat because he named himself when he was 6.

So Rat would probably, unless he experienced precocious puberty, go on hormone blockers at age 9 or 10, a year or two before he would start experiencing puberty just to make sure he doesn't experience any female puberty symptoms. Then at about 13 or 14 he would have an appointment with his doctor and they would decide that he has been sure that he was a boy for many years now and he's at an appropriate age to start puberty, at which point he would be taken off the hormone blockers and put onto a dosage of testosterone that is typically of what his perisex camab peers produce naturally. Because he never produced estrogen he would not have grown breasts and not need top surgery. He would develop exactly how his camab peers develop.

Now I want to put an interlude here that literally all of this is reversible. At any point Rat could change his name back and go off the testosterone jabs and his ovaries would start functioning again and they would produce the appropriate estrogen to give him breasts and hips. He could take the same vocal training classes that trans women take, he could get laser hair removal on the places where appropriate, and it would be as if he'd never been on the hormones at all.

But he doesn't want to do that. He wants a penis so let's move onto that.

As far as surgery goes, he would not be able to have either metoidioplasty or phalloplasty until he was on hormones long enough to experience the necessary bottom growth to occur, which takes a couple of years. (At least that was what I was told in 2016 please lmk if standards have changed since then). So at this point we're already about 16 years old before surgery even comes up as an option at the doctor's office. And Rat, if he is particularly gung ho about getting a penis and his parents can afford it/insurance will pay for it, probably gets put on a waiting list for a consultation with a specialist in genital reconstruction. Let's say at that consult which probably takes a few months minimum to get into, he opts for the most similar to perisex male genitalia: phalloplasty with testicular implants. Right there we're looking at at least three different surgeries and not all of them are going to happen at the same time. He's 17 before he's ever even on the operation table and he's been consistently identified as male since elementary school. This is the fastest possible bottom surgery route I'm laying out for you here and he still not slanging it until senior prom when he'll give it an ill advised test run in the back of his parents Subaru with Kelly from the anime club. All of that is assuming there's a doctor who will do it for him that can fit him in. Some people wait years for surgery.

Now some people get top surgery younger, but guess what, breast implants both exist and can be removed. If a 14 year old gets a double mastectomy and regrets it when they're 23 they can get implants. If a 16 year old gets breast implants and regrets it when they're 20 they can get those taken out. Top surgery is not complicated and I've heard from guys who truely would not have made it if they hadn't gotten theirs done.

I know this won't convince anyone who opposes trans healthcare but I hope it at least explains transition to cis allies who support trans people getting healthcare but still might think minors not being allowed to have surgery is a moderate position. I invite any trans person to add onto this with a MTF perspective or how their surgeries helped them.