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naughtyneganjdm · 3 days ago

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Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 8

Summary: After an unplanned day at work, Y/N comes home to find a surprise waiting for her.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155580502

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, severe angst, smut, public sex, unprotected p in v, depression, emotional characters, etc.

Notes: This is up later than normal. I was busy tonight. Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate! There is a nod to the TLOU games in this chapter.

What was supposed to be a vacation from work for a few weeks didn’t last very long. Today when Y/N’s boss called her asking her to come in and help with something, she was eager to go in for Carol. It wasn’t like Y/N was incredibly busy and money was money. It also gave her an extra day off somewhere in the future. It was unfortunately a long day and Y/N was just eager to come home at the end of the day. Both the children and Negan knew that she would be working, but tomorrow she would be spending it with them. Just so she could get some rest.

Even though it was something she had grown accustomed to over the last few years, coming home to a silence felt strange. Especially since she really hadn’t been alone in the last few weeks. Truthfully? She didn’t like it. Even though people always say they enjoy that alone time, for her she just liked being with someone. After four years of being lonely, the noise was just something she looked forward to.

Heading upstairs, she knew that she should have eaten something, but sleep just sounded so much better. Pushing the door open to her bedroom, a surprised sound fell from her throat when she saw that something was laid out over the top of her bed. Stepping forward, a lump grew in her throat at the brand-new dress that was before her. Involuntarily smiling, she dragged her fingers across the material. Next to it was a typed out note and a peony. Picking up the note, she started to read it with a warmth flooding into her face.

Put the dress on. A car will pick you up at eight. Don’t ask where you’re going. Just trust me.

With a smirk, she grabbed the peony and brought it up to smell the flower. This had to be another one of Negan’s elaborate date night ideas. It was completely unexpected, but charming considering everything. Even though they both agreed that they would wait until tomorrow to get together, Negan was always spontaneous like this.

Setting aside the note and the flower, she lifted up the dress to take a look at it. It was a flowing red gown that took her breath away. A long time ago she had seen a dress like this that she had wanted, but decided not to buy it because it was on the more expensive side. Also, she really didn’t have something nice to wear it to. Bringing it close to her chest, Y/N looked to the time to see that eight wasn’t too far away. If she wanted to look nice, she would have to start getting ready now.

Taking a quick shower, she dried her hair and did as she was told putting on the dress, her makeup and some of her nicest jewelry. After getting ready, she waited downstairs wondering if she should call Negan, but instead waited. By eight there was a car waiting for her just like the note said. Getting into the car felt uncomfortable since it was a stranger that was driving her around. Silence filled the car and even though she trusted Negan, it was hard not to speak.

Should she ask the driver where they were going? She wasn’t used to things like this. But she kept quiet and just trusted the process. When they reached the local high school it confused her. The driver stopped in front of the school and it made her let out an uncomfortable sound.

“You’re supposed to go into the school,” the driver instructed looking back at her over his shoulder and it had her swallowing down hard. Sliding across the backseat, she worked opened the door. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” she gave the driver a thanking nod, closing the door once she got out. Moving up the long walkway to her old high school made her curious as to where this was headed. Entering the school brought back old memories for her. Even though she now was coming to the school as a parent for Elizabeth, this was still the school she grew up at. Usually the school would be locked up right now considering they were on holiday, but here it was lit up and welcoming for her to walk through it.

Stopping at the display cases, she looked over the trophies that were there. Gazing over the old photos of when she attended the school made her smile. The young photos of both Joel and Negan on their perspective teams drew her attention. After taking a few minutes, she wondered where she was meant to go until her eyes fell to a piece of paper that was taped to the wall. In a bold font the words ‘this way’ were written on it with an arrow pointing down the hallway.

Following the route, Y/N was amused that it led her through the hallways of the school with each sign directing her where she was meant to go. By the time she made it to the school’s planetarium, it made her head tip to the side. Opening the doors, she stepped inside to see that it was empty except for something that was on the desk at the front. There was a bouquet of flowers along with another typed out note.

Unhurriedly moving across the room, she reached for the note and grew curious with the instructions.

Sit in the front row, middle seat. Don’t move. Watch the show.

Putting the note back on the desk, she looked around the empty room again. There was no sign of Negan. No sign of anyone really. Exhaling loudly, she did as she was told and sat down in the middle seat of the front row. Suddenly the regular lights went out and it was completely pitch black. It had been so long since she had been in this room. It was always something that she liked doing when they went here for school when they were younger. Leaning back in the seat, she lifted her head up waiting. It took a moment for the lights of the planetarium to be projected up onto the ceiling, but when they did it drew an awe from her.

They had definitely updated it since she had been here. All of the lights were bright and in a much higher quality which was no surprise. It had been a long time since she was last in this room. There was a chill in the room making her realize that she was genuinely not used to wearing dresses like this.

At this point, she half expected Negan to come into the room and join her, but she was alone for quite some time.

“I thought I’d tell you a story,” a voice spoke up causing a chill to flood her body. Looking back, she let out a shocked breath to see that two rows back Joel was sitting at the end of it. With the dimly lit room she could tell that his hair was slicked back and he was wearing a red dress shirt and a black suit jacket. “Don’t look at me, keep watching.”

“Joel?” she spoke his name with goosebumps developing over her arms. This wasn’t at all what she thought was happening. Yet it now suddenly made sense why the notes were typed and not written. “What is this?”

“Listen to me. Please,” Joel begged of her, his southern drawl growing deeper. There was something in the way that his dark eyes stared out at her that made her heart sink. “Hear my story and then if you want to ask questions, you’re free to do so.”

“Joel,” she said his name again with a frown flooding his features. Sighing loudly, she turned back around in her seat and leaned back to stare up at the ceiling of the planetarium again. Even though she didn’t know where this was headed, she listened to Joel.

“Thank you,” Joel’s voice was deep with him trying to speak loud enough and clear enough for her to still hear him. “I want to tell you the story about the first time I fell in love.”

Closing her eyes, she so badly wanted to stop him, but instead she did as he asked and kept quiet, “This story starts with me moving to this town. You know that I grew up in Texas. I never wanted to leave. Tommy and I were so mad when we had to. We didn’t want to move. We liked where we lived, but our daddy insisted that it was what was best for business. When we moved, I was pissed. I had friends that I was leaving. A place where I felt like I belonged. The first day we moved to this town, this woman came with her daughter to introduce themselves. When my mother brought me to the door to meet them, the woman’s daughter immediately blushed when she saw me. I was grumpy of course. I didn’t want to be there, so I wasn’t in the mood to be civil with strangers.”

“I know this story,” she pointed out having Joel scoff when she interrupted him. She lived this story and she knew what the outcome was. Clutching tightly to the arms of the seat, she curled her fingers around them and didn’t know why this was drawing chills down her spine.

“Not the whole story,” Joel corrected her with a grunt. “You’re supposed to stay quiet and watch the show. Listen.”

“Yes sir,” she huffed, leaning more comfortably back in her seat wondering if she would be able to get through this whole thing. This was already more than Joel spoke for the most part which was certainly different for him.

“Anyways, this girl had a crush on me from the start. I knew it. I always knew it. Every time I’d go outside to throw around a ball I could see her down the street trying to do things to impress me. And she’d show up asking me if I wanted to hang out with her and her friend. Of course, she was younger than me, so I thought I’d look stupid hanging out with a younger girl. So I’d deny her every time,” Joel recalled of his youth when he first met Y/N when they were children. Every day she would show up trying to get him to hang out, but he’d always say no. “But that girl? She never gave up. Every day she was outside, she’d try to get me to play with her and the other children. But I didn’t want to get close to the people here. I was so goddamn convinced that if I was brooding enough that my parents would take me back to where we lived before. But that girl? Even though my little brother was three years younger than her, she had no problem allowing him to hang out with her and her friends. See, back then? She was the most popular girl on the block because she was the most badass, coolest girl around. All the boys wanted to be friends with her. She played sports, knew them just as much as the boys did.”

Biting down on her bottom lip, Y/N tried to keep herself quiet while Joel told their story from his point of view, “And when my little brother started getting bullied by the dickhead living in our block, I didn’t know it at first. When I finally saw that shit stain knocking my brother off his bike, I was fully prepared to kick his ass, but that girl? She was outside playing hockey with her friends and saw it too. Beat me to it when it came to kicking that bully’s ass with her hockey stick. I was impressed. Scared. But impressed.”

“You didn’t fall in love with me then,” she noted remembering distinctly of their relationship through the years.

“You’re not a very good listener,” Joel’s Texan accent grew thicker making her laugh with him hushing her. “Anyways! That day I’m pretty sure that girl fell in love with me because I agreed to finally start hanging out with her and her friends. If she was willing to kick someone’s ass for Tommy? She was good enough to hang out with. So I became a trio with her and her best friend. For years I knew she had the biggest crush on me. It’s not that she told me she had a crush on me, but it was the way she looked at me. I never acted on it because I truthfully was scared of her. What if I pissed her off and I became her next target?”

“Joel,” she grumbled under her breath hearing his thick laugh in return.

“I’m serious! You scared the hell outta me. It was better to have you as a friend than as an enemy,” Joel declared rocking slightly in his seat watching her from afar with her still staring up at the showing of the stars above them. “But now? I’m gonna jump ahead and tell you about the time I fell in love for the first time. You see, I wasn’t the smartest student around. I was actually…kinda lazy. Instead of focusing on my education, I focused on my athletic and musical talent to get me ahead in life. For the most part? It worked. That friend of mine was in the same class as me. Even though we were best friends out of school? Sometimes I was kind of a dick since she was younger than me. So I’d sit by my friends when I reckon I should have always been spending my time with her. But one day in class, they turned off the lights and that girl? She was sitting in the front row, right in the middle. There was a light that was reflecting from the lights above that drew my attention to her. And for the first time when I looked at her, I felt my heart stop. She was smiling and it took my breath away seeing her like that. I was in the third row, on the end and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. All I wanted to look at was her.”

A loud exhale fell from her lips with her lowering her head down with Joel sweeping his thumb in over his bottom lip, “I thought it was a fluke. Something that wasn’t gonna happen again because I had never felt that way about her in all the time we had been friends. But after that moment in this very classroom, every time I saw her she took my breath away. My heart would race. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I didn’t understand why it took me that long to finally see that she was the most beautiful girl that I had ever laid my eyes on.”

Her breathing grew louder when Joel confessed to her something she had never heard before from him with this story, “I thought I lost my chance with her because I thought she had feelings for another boy, but when I approached her at a party and I kissed her…I felt fireworks. I had kissed other girls before, but when I kissed her? I wish I could describe it. It felt like my heart stopped and at the same time like it was pounding outta my chest.”

Leaning forward in his seat, Joel rest his arms against the chair that was in front of him while he watched her listening to him, “After that moment? I knew that I needed to have her in my life always. And then when we slept together the first time? I should have made it more romantic, but I could tell by the way she looked at me that she was everything right in the world. There was always a piece of me missing, but with her? She made me whole. And after that moment? I couldn’t stand to be separated from her. Every moment I spent without her, I was in agony. That’s how I knew I met the love of my life because every minute I spent away from her I was counting the seconds until she was in my arms again. She was everything that was perfect, pure and right in the world. And me? I was a fucking mess. Which is why I always thanked the world for bringing her to me because I wasn’t used to things going right for me. When the world fell apart for me with my parents dying, she was my rock. She was my strength and she made me realize what true love really was. We didn’t mean to get pregnant, but it happened. It was scary. It was sudden. But we took it on together.”

Getting up from his seat, Joel moved to the front row with her and sat beside her, “When Ellie was born, I was blown away that I could make something so perfect. But then again? She was part of you.”

Outstretching his fingers, he stroked them over the top of her hand seeing that tears were burning at her eyes, “And when we got married, no matter how scary the world seemed at that young I knew I’d be okay because I had you by my side. Every night after Ellie was born, I’d always wake up worried about the both of you. Everything else that was good in my life left me. So I’d check on you and her because I loved you both so much.”

Against his fingertips Joel could tell that Y/N was tremoring trying to avoid getting emotional, but she still was, “And then we had a beautiful boy. We were in love with two amazing miracles that came from our love. I don’t know what happened, but I let my past cloud my judgement. I had everything any man could wish for. And I messed up. I screwed up real bad.”

By now she was crying again, but he hooked his fingers with hers tightly in a supportive squeeze, “I let you down and I’m sorry. I thought at the time I was making the right choice, but I miss you. I miss us. I miss our family. Without you? I don’t feel whole. When I had my family, I was proud. I was a man that had everything. The perfect wife. Beautiful children.”

Joel’s words lingered when he turned in the seat, reaching out with his other hand to press his fingertips in over the side of her face, “I love you Y/N. I love you so much. And I miss everything about my life before. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I made a horrible mistake. I want us to be together. I want us to fix things. And I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. When I lost everything with my parents, you pulled me out when I was drowning. You saved me. And you were the only person that ever felt like home to me.”

What really got her was not only was she crying at this point, but so was he, “The children want us to get back together. And I know you still love me.”

Closing the distance between them, Joel’s lips covered hers and he could taste the saltiness of her tears against his lips. Brushing his lips against hers again and again, Joel attempted to show her with everything that he had how much he loved her.

Unhurriedly, he pulled his lips away from hers and motioned her to wait for a moment. Standing to his feet, he watched her eyes follow his movements. Bending over, he picked up the guitar that she had bought him all those years ago for their anniversary. Spotting what he was holding had her breathing growing uneven and she lowered her head.

“What are you doing?” she stammered trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. Motioning her to wait, Joel dragged the chair that was in front of the desk out. Carefully lowering down into the seat, Joel strummed at his guitar a little and cleared his throat.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this. Y’know. Play in front of someone,” Joel explained tapping his fingers against the guitar slightly. “Just alone to myself.”

Keeping her eyes locked on Joel, she heard the cords that he started playing having it take her breath away. It had been so long since she had last heard Joel play the guitar. After things it seemed like he wrote it off completely, but it was always one of the things that drew her to Joel.

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. Everything I have found dear, I’ve not found by myself,” Joel seemed to stumble a bit over his words while he tried to gather himself and sing for her the song that he was drawn to when he thought of her. “Try and sometimes you’ll succeed to make this man of me. All my stolen missing parts, I’ve no need for anymore.”

Swallowing down hard, it felt like the room was spinning around her while he continued to sing in his deep rumble of a southern drawl, “I believe and I believe ‘cause I can see our future days. Days of you and me.”

Bracing her hands over the sides of the chair she was in, she felt her heart racing and her lips parting, “Back when I was feeling broken, I focused on a prayer. You came deep as any ocean. Did something out there hear? All the complexities and games, no one wins but still they’re played. All the missing crooked hearts, they may die but in us they live on.”

Sitting forward, she felt like the breath was leaving her lungs when Joel started singing the chorus again. There was a whole lot of crying with her body shaking, “When hurricanes and cyclones raged, when wind turned to dirt to dust, when floods they came or tides they raised, even closer became us. All the promises at sundown, I’ve meant them like the rest. All the demons used to come ‘round, I’m grateful that they left.”

Tightening her grip around the arms of the chair, Y/N felt lost in herself with her body tremoring, “So persistent in my ways, hey angel, I am here to stay. No resistance, no alarms. Please, this is just too good to be gone.”

As Joel came to the final chorus, Y/N pushed up from the chair and started to make her way through the planetarium toward the door with Joel fumbling through the chords, “Hey!”

“What Joel?” she turned on her heel, throwing her hands up in the air with Joel setting the guitar against the desk. Sobbing made her feel pathetic, but that’s what she was doing right now. “What is this Joel?”

“I was just trying to show you how much I loved you,” Joel reasoned with her stepping through the room, holding his hands out to plead with her not to run off. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“You are fucking with my emotions so bad,” she explained to him, her words broken with her shaking her head. “Do you know how long I waited for you to do something like this? How I prayed that you would realize that you didn’t want that divorce? Do you know how much it broke my heart that I made you miserable?”

“I made a horrible, awful mistake,” Joel stressed, still crying himself stepping before her with a frown. Joel wasn’t much of a crier, so the fact that he was crying? That took her breath away and surprised her. “I was wrong. I know what I did and I understand why you are feeling the way you are, but we’re soulmates you and I. Destined to be together.”

“I loved you so much. I tried so hard to make you happy because I knew what life stole from you,” she whimpered with Joel taking slow steps toward her. Shakily reaching out to grab his hands with hers, Joel’s thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands with him nodding. “Life was hard for me too Joel. I didn’t want this life when I was younger, but I grew to love this life because I love you so much. And if I had you, I knew I’d be okay because you were everything to me. I gave everything to make you happy.”

“I know you did,” Joel acknowledged with a firm nod of his head. “I was blind to things then, but now I see everything you did for me. No one supported me and did for me what you have. We were the perfect couple. Even this town saw it. I’ve never been good with my emotions, but with you I had them. I just closed myself off again like I did growing up. I never got to mourn the loss of my parents or the loss of my future. I had to step into the role of dad with Tommy when I was eighteen. I had to be the strong one, the cold one. Cus’ Tommy was the one that was the younger one. He’d be the one growing up without his parents. Cheated from a life that I did get. Then I became a dad not long after. I lost myself and I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry Joel,” she shook her head, attempting to leave only to have Joel reach out to pull her to him. Having her fall in against his chest, Joel palmed in over the side of her face drawing her lips to his again. Passionately he kissed her, his fingers curling around the back of her neck with each caress growing hungrier between them.

“Please, I love you so much,” Joel stammered against her lips, walking forward to lead her toward the wall. Pressing her back against it, Joel was eager to kiss her as intimately as possible. With her melting in against him, he could tell that she was falling for it further.

Allowing his kisses to tamper off over her jawline had her palming down over the center of his chest. Sliding his hand down over the side of her body, Joel took his time calming her knowing that she was emotional. Pressing his body in closer to hers, Joel swept his fingers down over the exposed part of her shoulder and pulled back slightly. Hovering his lips over hers, he knew that she was still emotional with him drawing his thumb across her bottom lip. Kissing at the pad of his thumb, her eyes came to a tight close having Joel’s pulse leaping in his throat.

Tugging at the material of the bottom of her dress, Joel got it hiked up enough to reach for her panties beneath pushing them down her legs. His Adam’s apple bounced in his throat when they dropped to her ankles. Curling his arm under her thigh, he lifted her leg and slid his fingers underneath her knee. Adjusting her other leg allowed her to step out of the material and he licked his lips.

“Just give me another chance,” Joel whispered, his forehead pressing against hers. Lowering her leg back, Joel reached for her hands and hooked his fingers with hers. Leading them to his belt had her letting out a tremoring breath. “I know you still love me and I still love you. The two of us are meant to be together.”

Dragging his thumb across her bottom lip, Joel teased her with the idea of kissing her. At first her fingers dragged across his belt and he could see the contemplation in her eyes, “It’s okay.”

Shakily pulling apart his belt, she tugged at the material and then undid the button in his pants. Pulling down the zipper was all he needed to know that this was okay. Bringing their lips together again, Joel kissed her and pressed his body in closer to hers.

“There is no one that makes me feel the way you do,” Joel slurred against her bottom lip, peppering it with wet kisses. In his arms, her body was tremoring and there were no doubts about the way that she felt toward him. “Nothing hurt more than seeing you crying the other day knowing it was because of me. Because I love you. I love you so much and I hate that I did what I did. I regret it every day.”

“How do I know that this isn’t like the other times?” she whimpered, her head tipping back with Joel starting to kiss down over her jawline. Closing her eyes, she purred out at the sensation of his lips caressing at her flesh. After so long together, Joel knew exactly what to do to get her to turn to mush in the palm of his hand.

“Does this feel like the other times?” Joel inquired, cupping her face in the warmth of his hands. Sweeping his thumbs against her face, Joel leaned into nuzzle his nose in against hers. “I mean what I say Y/N. I’m lost without you. You’re all I can think about. I go to sleep thinking about you. I wake up thinking about you…”

Crying out, she bit down on her bottom lip when Joel’s hand palmed in between her thighs. Swallowing down hard, Joel was quick to push his pants down to the bottom of his waist. Bracing his weight, Joel picked her up in his arms and pressed her firmly back against the wall. Getting her to wrap her legs around his waist, Joel’s eyelids grew heavy with her right arm wrapped around his shoulders and her left hand brushing through his hair.

“All I see is you…” Joel whispered, capturing her lips with his again. Each kiss grew stronger with his hips faintly bucking up against her. Breaking away for a moment, Joel lowered his head releasing a grunt when he lined his body up with her entrance. Sinking unhurriedly into the warmth of her body had his lips parting, a small whine escaping her throat with him entering her again. It was so hard for Joel not to fall apart right then and there. Maybe it was from all the emotions, but just having the warmth of her surrounding him again had his heart racing. There was a sense of euphoria that flooded into her features with her head tipping back. Starting to roll his hips from under her, Joel had her body bouncing upward with every thrust that he made. Hovering his lips over hers, the warmth of his breath had chills running down her spine. A rumble of a growl escaped his throat with her fingertips tugging at his dark hair. “We were made for one another. No matter what the world throws at us, it’s always gonna lead me back to you and you back to me.”

Unsteadily breathing, Joel nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck with her wrapping her arms around his shoulders to brace herself. Wincing, Joel’s thrusts were slow and steady. Unlike the last time where he completely had his way with her. More than anything he wanted this to mean something. To be special in a way that the last few times hadn’t been between them. He wanted to show her that he loved her. That she was special to him.

“I love you,” Joel slurred against the side of her neck, grunting with his thrusts growing harder. Faint gasps escaped her lips with her caressing her fingers against his scalp. More than anything, he wanted to hear her say it back in the moment. Tipping his head back just enough, Joel’s dark eyes linked with hers. Pressing his forehead against hers. “Tell me you love me.”

“Joel,” she panted, her eyes closing shut tightly with his thrusts becoming more prominent. Clinging tightly to him, she whined out his name.

“Please,” he begged, nibbling at her bottom lip with their bodies moving together in unison.

“I love you,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering to an open with his movements coming to a halt. Joel’s beautiful eyes gazed over her lips and she knew by his expression that it was everything that he wanted to hear.

Carefully lowering one of her legs down to the ground, he hooked his arm underneath it while keeping the other leg wrapped firmly around his hips. Pressing closer to her, this helped Joel’s movements become steadier, more fluid. After hearing her say the words that he asked of her, Joel couldn’t stop kissing her. Flooding her with all the passion that he had inside of him.

“You are so beautiful,” Joel whispered against her earlobe after he broke away from their kisses allowing them to now trail over her jawline. “You’ve always been so beautiful.”

Drawing her back to him with his kisses, Joel’s thrusts grew unsteady with her breaths growing sharp against his, “I want to be the reason you smile again. I want to be the reason you’re happy, not the reason that you’re miserable.”

Settling his free hand in over the small of her back, Joel’s winces grew louder with every thrust. Whimpering, her head dropped back against the wall allowing him to kiss down over the side of her neck. Nipping at her chin, Joel growled out and felt his body tensing up.

“I miss you so much,” Joel captured her lips in a lingering kiss, plunging his manhood into her with uneven movements. His thrusts became more desperate. His body tensing up beneath her while she rocked her hips against his movements.

Dropping his left hand, he cupped her bottom in his grasp. Her cries grew louder, vibrating against his lips as he stole kiss after kiss from her. Soon his thrusts slowed down but were extremely prominent with the warmth of his release starting to fill her. Groaning out, Joel bit faintly at her bottom lip as he continued to buck up against her until his movements came to a complete halt.

Falling in against her, Joel’s breathing was loud and uneven. Usually she wasn’t this quiet during or after things, but it seemed like she was trying to catch her breath with their bodies still pressed together. Lowering her leg, Joel grunted when he felt her pressing into his stomach. By the pressure she was able to get him to step back. With his body pulling from hers, it had her eyes coming to a tight close. Trying to gather herself, she started pushing at the material of her dress doing her best to get it back into place. Once she did, she fell back against the wall, sliding down it until she was sitting completely on the floor.

“Y/N?” Joel breathed out her name, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Noticing the expression over her face, Joel realized it wasn’t all that happy and he started to work his pants back up over his body. Pushing his softening length back into his pants, Joel adjusted himself before zipping the material together. Buttoning his pants, Joel left the belt unhooked when he lowered down in beside her. Both of their breathing was labored and he didn’t know what to say. Truthfully? The silence was eating away at him.

“There are no cameras in here, right?” she wondered, looking around the classroom to see if there were cameras that were there. In the past, she knew that there wasn’t, but it had been a very long time since they went to school here.

“No,” Joel shook his head, shakily brushing his fingers through his hair surprised that it was the first question she asked him.

“And no one was here to see that?” she seemed worried that they would have been caught having sex in the middle of the school.

“It’s just us in here right now. The guy that runs this program owed me a favor. Taught me how to use it and then the janitor let me into the building. I got permission to do this whole thing,” Joel explained to her the process of what he had to do in order to have this moment with them. Waving his hand about in the air, Joel felt his chest tightening when it looked like she was still upset with him. “I have keys to lock up afterwards.”

“We shouldn’t have done that here,” she stammered, her eyes staring out toward the seats in the distance.

“It’s not the first time we had sex in this building. The two of us would sneak off all the time when we were younger,” Joel reminded her with a weak smile, nudging her slightly with his arm, but it didn’t have the kind of reaction that he was hoping from her. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t fair Joel,” she responded, staring out into the room refusing to look at him in that moment. Shakily, her fingers brushed back her hair. Right now? She seemed to be more upset than she was before all of this. “I waited four years for you to decide that you made a mistake. So many nights I laid awake thinking that you would show up on the doorstep apologizing about the mistake that you made. And when you’d show up to sleep with me, I’d think that was it, but it never was. You know that I love you and you know how to play me like a fiddle. Hell, like you said I’ve been in love with you since I was a child.”

“I didn’t…” Joel started to defend himself, but she held her hand up in the air to stop him from talking any further. By what she was saying, it felt like she thought he was doing the same kind of thing with her right now and that wasn’t the case at all.

“I am so fucking broken because I love you,” she declared with a whimper, reaching up to wipe at her eyes knowing that he was confused with her response. “Whether you like him or not, Negan is the perfect guy. Wants me to be happy. Goes out of his way to make me feel good. And I just had sex with you because the girl in me that is head over heels in love with you has been waiting to hear everything you just said for so long.”

Her hands were trembling as she spoke, the look in her eyes miserable when she turned to look at Joel with a newfound sadness that caused that ache at the center of his chest to grow further, “I can’t help, but think that you only did this because now there is someone else that genuinely cares about me. For so long it was only you, but now that there is Negan…”

“That’s not true,” Joel refuted with a frown outstretching his hand to curl his fingers in underneath her jaw to get her to look at him. “It’s not true because we started this back at the village and I didn’t even know Negan was there.”

“Joel, that day at the village was just like all the other times we’ve slept together since we’ve been separated. You’d come to me when you were horny and you wanted to get laid. You’d say exactly what I needed to hear or wanted to hear and I’d fall for it every time,” she reminded him hearing Joel huffing out and out of the corner of her eyes she noticed the way that his face scrunched up. “Why wait to do this until after Negan? If you missed me, if you loved me, why wait until now?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not because of Negan,” Joel declared placing his hand in over the center of his chest to stress his sincerity. “And I didn’t only come to you to sleep with you because I was horny and I wanted to get laid.”

“You always left before the children came home or woke up Joel when we’d sleep together in the past,” she hissed, her eyes full of tears again when she turned her head to stare out at him. Seeing her hurt again was tearing his heart out because he thought what he had just done was everything she needed to hear. Shaking her head, she tried to gather her emotions but she was having a hard time doing that. Misery was flooding throughout Joel’s whole body with no idea how to fix all of this. “I think right now you truly believe that you love me. That I’m the one for you. But I think it’s because before now, I was always an option. Someone that was here waiting for you to realize your mistake. Now that I have Negan in my life? I think you’re panicking. So you’re feeling these emotions so strongly.”

“I understand why you would think that,” Joel threw his hands out in a pleading motion, “but I started feeling this way long before Negan showed up. The day we did our gingerbread family I…” Joel swallowed down hard knowing that this was going to sound creepy. “When I went upstairs, I saw that the door to our bedroom was open. I went in there and I crawled into our bed. Laid in my spot because I missed it Y/N. I missed you then.”

“Then why didn’t you do all of this then?” she whimpered, her voice breaking after she asked him that question. So many thoughts were flooding through his mind, but he couldn’t focus on the right one that he knew would get her to believe him. “I don’t think you’re evil or purposely out to hurt me Joel. I don’t even think you did this purposely. I think it was your fear that I might not be here as a backup that has you acting out like this. You’re a good man Joel Miller, and I’ve always known that. But? You’re just not good for me.”

“Tess and I broke up because I was still in love with you,” Joel confessed to her, his eyebrows furrowing when he tried to appeal to her. “She wanted more from me, but I couldn’t give it to her because my heart…it still belonged to you. I was just pretending with everyone else because I thought I had to experience what I didn’t when I was a kid, but I realized it was you that I wanted to be with.”

“Joel, we slept together when you were with Tess. You could have left her at any time and I would have welcomed you back with open arms,” she defended her actions right now with being so upset. “It’s so hard to believe what you are saying right now.”

“Because I hurt you in the past, that’s what you’re focusing on, but it’s not true,” Joel promised, his voice broken when he desperately shook his head from side to side. “You’re it for me. I know you are. And I’ve felt this way for a while. Before Negan even showed up because at the village…”

“You fucked me so hard that I felt it all night and into the morning,” she interrupted him having him go silent with his defense. “There was no romance there. You wanted to have raunchy dirty sex and I don’t think you cared who I was in that moment. You fucked me so hard Joel and it wasn’t sex from a man that loved me. It was a man that wanted to use my body to get a release. One that he likely hadn’t had in a while.”

Groaning out, Joel buried his head into his hand and felt his body shaking, “I’m lonely and I miss you Y/N.”

“I believe that you’re lonely,” she agreed with him having his saddened chocolate brown eyes meeting hers when he turned his head to gaze out at her. “You know, the day you told me you wanted a divorce is the day that you left. I remember thinking back then you were just stressed out and overwhelmed. I just thought you were saying it to say it. To scare me into thinking I was actually going to lose you. I thought you just needed some time to calm down. So I let you go with Tommy. I never cried harder than I did that night. And when you came to get your things, I begged you to reconsider. I didn’t understand the mistake I had made. What I did wrong. I gave up my life just like you did. The second we got divorced, Tess suddenly showed up…”

“I didn’t cheat,” Joel started to fight watching her nod her head. “I didn’t!”

“I believe you, but it didn’t stop you from finding someone as soon as we got divorced,” she recalled the pain that she felt when he was with Tess. How quickly he had found someone else always broke her heart. “You threw Tess in my face every chance you could. Maybe you didn’t even mean it. Maybe you loved her so much that…”

“I never told Tess that I loved her,” Joel interrupted her shaking his head when she rambled about his ex that he had broken up with months ago. “I never did.”

“Does that even matter? You still chose to be with her over me. It killed me to see you with her, but I didn’t try to break the two of you up. When you came to me, I thought you were picking me and you would come back to me. I was a bad person when I slept with you when you were with her,” she condemned herself thinking about some of the worst moments of her life. Back then she was so desperate to have Joel back that she would have done anything to make him happy. “Right now, I believe you firmly think that you love me and you want to be with me again, but I know how you were when you were with me and I’m not your happiness.”

“I’m nothing without you,” Joel pled as she pulled herself up into a standing position. Looking up at her with misery in his eyes, Joel threw his hands up in the air. “My heart breaks every day I wake up and you’re not in my arms. I miss when it was the four of us. Waking up, having breakfast with the four of us…my heart yearns for that. I want to be with you with everything that I am. My chest fucking hurts when I think about you because I love you and I’m heartbroken.”

“You don’t know what heartbroken is,” she scoffed, lowering her head when Joel started to sob where he was seated. “You know what? That was mean. I’m sure you do. But not when it comes to me,” she went to leave with Joel reaching for her hand again, but she forcefully pulled it away from him. “Don’t!”

“Please,” Joel got to his knees, holding his hands up in a begging motion. “Please give me another chance. I can prove it to you. Don’t do this to me. Please?”

“Do you think I like seeing you like this? I love you Joel and I have loved you all along. I will always love you Joel, but you shattered my heart. You broke it so bad that I don’t even know if I can ever piece it back together,” she whimpered, her sobs drawing her words to slur together. “Do you remember how you got me to sign the divorce papers?”

Dropping his head, Joel bit down on his bottom lip and his hands fell at his sides into fists, “You told me that you were suffering. That every day you were with me you woke up wanting to kill yourself because you hated your life so much. You told me that the only chance you had at being happy was trying to do something new with your life. What happens if we get back together and I wake up one day to find that you aren’t here because of me? Because I make you that miserable.”

“You’re the only thing that holds me together,” Joel stated with something that resembled a whine. Right now Joel looked defeated on his knees before her. “Nothing I say is going to make you take me back. Is it? I’ll never be good enough for you.”

“You were always good enough for me,” her bottom lip trembled, lowering down before Joel to trace her fingers over the hard lines of Joel’s face. “Joel Miller, I’m going to love you until the day I die. Nothing will change that because I love you so much. But I will never forget the things you told me. And I think the healthiest thing for the both of us is to stay apart. We’re toxic together Joel. I don’t make you happy. And I love you enough to know that. But you’ll never lose me. I’ll always be in your life. With our children? We’ll never be out of each other’s lives.”

Bracing her hands against his shoulders, she caressed over them and leaned forward to bring their lips together in a tender sweep. When she pulled away, Joel’s palm caressed down over the side of her face, “It’s not a question of if I love you Joel. We both know that I do. It’s just knowing what’s best for the both of us.”

Nuzzling her nose in against his, she stroked her fingers over the side of his face taking a moment to comfort him with him so upset. Shakily standing to her feet had his dark eyes lifting to watch her back step toward the door.

“Let me take you home,” Joel reasoned with her, going to get up but she was quick to shake her head. Guilt was eating away at him, his whole body aching after the way this turned out. “No one is here to drive you home. You’re only wearing that dress. You’re gonna get sick.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” she shrugged her shoulders letting out a long sigh knowing right now she felt like she needed an incredible amount of punishment for everything she did tonight not only to Joel, but also what she did to Negan. “I’ll call Tommy and let him know what happened so he can expect you home soon.”

“Something tells me even if I asked you not to, you still would,” Joel commented, lowering back down to his ass letting out a long huff when he wiped at his tear-stained face. “So do whatever you have to do I ‘spose.”

Standing at the doorway, Y/N felt her chest aching seeing how devastated Joel looked, but at the end of the day she knew this was the best for the both of them.

----

At first it sounded like a faint knocking sound that awakened Negan from his slumber. It was late into the middle of the night and he was barely awake. Turning his head, Negan groaned out and buried his head into his pillow further. Hoping to drown out the sounds. Right now he was at the home he had rented to stay in town for the holidays. Truthfully? The house was incredibly noisy and he figured it was because it was an older home. Over the last couple of weeks, Negan had gone back and forth between this rental and his mother’s home so he wasn’t completely used to this place yet. That sound? He just thought it was old pipes.

Gradually the sounds started to get louder which had Negan pushing his hands into the bed to sit up slowly. Rubbing his hand down over his face, it took a minute for him to realize that it was someone knocking. Gazing over at the time, he let out a stressed breath seeing that it was way too late for someone to be at his home. Then again, when he was at his other places he never put it past a fan to try to show up at his home unannounced.

Getting up slowly, he stumbled through the darkness of the bedroom. Flicking the light on helped just enough but hurt his tired eyes. Rubbing at them, he yawned and made his way down the hallway toward the front door. Stepping in front of the door, he looked out the window after struggling to push away the curtain covering the door.

Suddenly, his heart kickstarted in his chest when he realized who was standing outside his door. Pulling it open, Negan clung tightly to the door and felt his heart racing, “Y/N, what the hell are you doing?”

Instead of saying anything, she just stood before him silent. Visibly freezing and standing before him in nothing but a red gown. Reaching out, his warm hands grabbed a hold of her wrists that were dropped down at her sides. Urging her into his rental home, Negan closed the door behind them. Palming up over her arms toward her shoulders, Negan realized that her flesh was freezing beneath his touch.

“You’re freezing. What’s going on?” Negan questioned, motioning her to wait a moment. Moving over toward the couch, he swiftly grabbed the blanket that he had left there earlier. Rushing back to her, he wrapped the blanket around her shivering body. Caressing it over her shoulders, he tried to get her to warm up. “Did you walk all the way here wearing just that?”

“Yeah,” she was honest causing an immediate worry to fill Negan’s eyes. Stumbling over to the fireplace, Negan worked quickly to get the fireplace started. Guilt ate away at her knowing that Negan was doing everything in his power to get the fire started for her as fast as he could. “You don’t have to worry about this Negan. I need to talk to you.”

“And we’ll talk once we get this fire started, get you some new clothes and something hot to drink,” Negan grunted after he finally got the fire lit. Moving around her, Negan dragged one of the chairs in the living room close to the fireplace. Grabbing her hands in his, Negan led her toward the chair and got her to sit down. Right now she was uncontrollably shivering, but she didn’t care about herself. Attempting to stand up had Negan shaking his head and forcing her back down. “Stay!”

Instead of fighting, she obeyed and heard him rushing down the hallway. Shuffling sounds were heard and it didn’t take long for him to be running back into the living room. Holding some clothes out to her, Negan saw her eyeing them over. For some reason she wasn’t taking them evoking a grunt from his lips. Lowering down, Negan pulled the blanket carefully from her body after he set the clothes aside. Hooking his arms underneath her armpits, Negan was gentle in the way that he pulled her up to her feet. Using his strength, Negan made sure that she was comfortably on her feet before he started to work the dress from her body.

Nothing about this was sexual. If anything? He was incredibly caring and sweet in the way that he was helping her. Getting the damp material from her body seemed to be his number one priority. And once he did? The material dropped to the ground with a wet thud. Even though she was naked, Negan didn’t take advantage of it. Instead he motioned her to lift her arms up for him. When she did, he helped pull one of his heavier sweatshirts down over her upper half. Grabbing his boxer shorts that he snagged from his dresser, Negan helped get each leg through before pulling them up her body. Once he was done, he did the same thing with a pair of his sweatpants and was unhurried in the way that he tied the knot in them.

“Come here,” Negan wrapped her up in his arms as soon as he was done. Holding her tightly to him, Negan was doing his best to warm her up. She was still shivering and he was worried about her.

“Did something happen?” Negan asked and by the tone of his voice she knew that he thought something horrible had happened to her. “Do I need to call someone? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“No,” she muttered, burying her head against his shoulder. Even though it was warm, her body was still having a hard time warming up. It was an involuntary action of her body that was craving the warmth of his body against hers as she cuddled in closer to him. “I did this to myself Negan. I walked here from the high school. It was my own choice.”

“The high school?” Negan repeated, tipping back enough to stare down at her with a strained expression. “Why were you at the high school. No, fucking scratch that. Why did you walk all the way from the high school through the freezing weather in the snow to this fucking house? You should have called me. I would have picked you up.”

“I was punishing myself,” she spoke quietly having his head tip to the side. His eyebrows furrowed with his lips parting. It looked like he wanted to say something, but when he went to he stopped himself because he didn’t understand. “I’m a horrible person Negan. For so many reasons.”

“No you’re not,” Negan denied that statement immediately, shaking his head with him cupping her face in the warmth of his palms.

“I am,” she insisted having Negan scoff at her stubbornness. They probably could have gone back and forth like children at this point. It was late. She was freezing. They were both tired, but the worst of it was that she was emotional in all of this.

“You’re not a terrible person. And whatever you think you’ve done wrong, it’s not worth getting sick and dying when you have two children that need you,” Negan reminded her of Elizabeth and Peter who were likely at Joel and Tommy’s home. In her mind, all Y/N could picture was Joel coming home miserable to the children. If they knew how devastated she made their father, she was certain that they would hate her for tonight. Their father was everything to them. And she broke Joel’s heart. Instead of responding, a cry fell from her lips. Worried about her, Negan shook his head and motioned her to sit back down. “Stay here.”

“Negan,” she tried to call out to him after he had helped her back into the seat. There was some clanking coming from the kitchen. With him gone, she could focus on the warmth of the fire surrounding her. It was something her body needed as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, pulling it close. Cuddling it closer to her body, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on anything other than how Joel sobbed because of her tonight. The sound of footsteps dragging across the floor was heard drawing her eyes to open. In her face was a mug that Negan was holding out to her. With an expecting glance, Negan nodded down toward it and cleared his throat. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Negan responded after she took the mug from him. Not drinking the warm liquid inside, she allowed the glass to warm her hands. That felt better than anything in the moment. Finally looking Negan over, she noticed that he was shirtless and he was in a pair of gray boxer briefs. His right knee had a compression sleeve over it that made her throat go dry. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“You’re limping and you’re wearing your brace,” she avoided his question, her eyes gazing him over with him glaring down at her. Folding his arms in front of his chest, Negan’s stare made her remember all over again what it was like when he would get upset with her when they were younger. Right now? She was more worried about him. “Does your knee hurt?”

“Yeah, after tearing my ACL it doesn’t feel all that good in the cold weather,” Negan responded lowering his head to stare down at the brace that his doctor gave him to wear to help him heal with his injury. “Now how about you start talking to me about what’s going on? Why did you almost kill yourself walking here like you did?”

“Because I deserve worse?” she was getting emotional with Negan’s features softening. That was the last thing she wanted from Negan right now. Empathy was not something she deserved after what she did tonight. “I did something really bad.”

“Listen,” Negan groaned out as he lowered down to his knees to kneel before her in the chair she was seated in. Even though he was trying to hide it, Negan winced when he got down onto his knees. Trying to hide the pain from her. “Whatever you did? It’s not worth you freezing to death.”

There were tears burning in her eyes when she lowered her head forcing herself not to look at him. He was so tender and caring with her that she knew it would be hard to even tell him what had happened. Lacking bravery, she swallowed down hard and felt her body trembling.

“Did you kill someone?” Negan inquired with a simple shrug of his shoulders. With how shaken up she was, Negan felt like he was going to have to guess what had happened. “The rental has a shovel. Fuck, if you tell me where the body is I can help you bury it.”

“Knock it off,” she snorted hating that she laughed at his suggestion. Staring down at the hot chocolate that he had made for her, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt eating away at her.

“Did someone hurt you?” Negan was quiet in the way that he asked her. By the tone of his voice, she knew that he was asking if someone assaulted her and she shook her head. If anything? She was the bad one for what she had done to Joel. “If someone hurt you, I’ll fucking kill them.”

“Negan,” she carefully set her mug aside, making sure that it wouldn’t spill before turning her attention back to Negan. Sliding forward in the chair, she shakily reached up to cup Negan’s face in her hands. Even though his face was warm, he didn’t turn away from her cold touch because he was too concerned for her. “You have always been perfect. And I haven’t.”

“I’m the furthest thing from perfect,” Negan breathed out, his long eyelashes fluttering to a close with her touching him. Turning his head into her palm, Negan deposited a kiss over the inside of her wrist which had her shuddering. “If you knew half of the bad shit about me, you probably wouldn’t be here right now. I’m not a good man.”

“I wouldn’t care what you’ve done,” she alerted him having his eyes lazily open with him staring out at her longingly. “You’ve always been my hero. The best part of me and I’ve let you down every time. I’ve hurt you so many times…”

“Hey…” Negan lifted up further with her crying harder, clear tension in his features from the pain that he was feeling in his knee but he was risking it to check on her. “What happened?”

“You’re not going to want to be around me after I tell you,” she insisted with a whimper knowing that what she had done tonight was a sure way to lose everything that she had just gained with Negan. It broke her heart to know, but what happened tonight happened. There was no avoiding it. He needed to know what she had done with Joel. Even though she considered what happened with Joel tonight a ‘goodbye’, it still happened when she was having the relationship that she had started with Negan. What hurt the most about this whole thing is that she slept with Joel knowing that she had a good thing going with Negan.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he suggested, tipping his head from side to side. Lifting up, he grabbed her hands and squeezed them tightly. “I want us to be as honest as possible with each other. So just say whatever you need to say.”

“I came home from work tonight to see a peony, a dress and a note at the center of my bed,” she began, forcing herself to keep her eyes locked on Negan. Hearing that had the lines in Negan’s forehead becoming more visible. “The note told me to be ready by a certain time. That a car would pick me up…I thought it was you. It was just like something you would have done.”

“Okay,” Negan waited for more information, still stroking his fingers over the back of her hands.

“The car drove me to the high school and there were these signs that led to the planetarium. Another note told me to sit in the front row and the lights started up,” she recalled everything that happened knowing that she should have just blurted out what she did, but she was going into far more details than need be. “It was beautiful. I waited for you to come out, but then I realized it was Joel that did it.”

“Oh, I see where this is going,” Negan nodded his head about, biting down on his bottom lip. “It’s okay.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” she countered having Negan’s Adam’s apple bounce in his throat. With a simple shake of his head, Negan exhaled loudly and she found herself surprised by his immediate response. “He did this really romantic speech about the first time he fell in love with me. And then he sang me this song…”

There were more tears growing from her eliciting a hushing sound from Negan who outstretched his hand to caress over the side of her face to sweep away the tears, “It’s okay. I understand. Joel is your ex-husband and I know you still love him. If you are back with him, I’ll just deal with it. I got to have you for a very short amount of time, but it was better than never having you.”

“Negan,” she frowned hating that he was being so polite about things. “We had something going and I slept with Joel…”

“What do you want me to say?” Negan’s face was scrunched up, his voice raspier than normal. “Do you want me to yell at you? Because we weren’t putting a label on whatever this was. I knew how you felt about Joel and…”

“I’m a bitch,” she snapped at Negan who snickered. Frustration flooded her veins with him drawing his tongue out across his bottom lip.

“And I’m an asshole,” Negan declared, slowly releasing her hands and throwing his arms up in the air. “So what? I can’t be mad at you for being in love with Joel. You were married to him for a long time and you’ve been in love with him for so much fucking longer. You don’t have to cry over the fact you’re back together with Joel. I’m gonna care about you regardless.”

“I’m not back together with Joel,” she sighed loudly, lifting her hands to wipe at her face again. There was no doubt that she looked terrible right now, but she didn’t care. “I broke his heart too. I think by allowing us to sleep together he thought I would give us another chance. I didn’t. We’re toxic together and I know that. I told him that. I told him that I only wanted to be friends with him.”

Arching his eyebrow in curiosity, Negan’s jaw clenched hearing her starting to cry harder, “I did to you what I did when we were younger. I fell for Joel’s lure he has on me again and I slept with him. I cheated on you.”

“You didn’t cheat on me when we weren’t officially dating,” Negan hinted shaking his head and dragging his fingers through his short beard. “I mean…if that’s the case, I cheated on you too.”

“You slept with someone else?” she was surprised to hear that having Negan’s head movements being incredibly dramatic. “Who?”

“I didn’t technically sleep with anyone. But I jerked off this morning thinking about Lucille,” Negan answered eliciting a groan and an eye roll from her. “I was in the shower, it was morning, my dick was hard. I jerked off thinking about her, so technically I cheated on you too if you’re counting sleeping with Joel as cheating.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” she grumbled under her breath having Negan crack a big cheesy smile. She didn’t know what she was expecting from Negan, but it certainly wasn’t this. What she thought she deserved was to be treated like shit. Thrown out of the house and to never be contacted again. But instead? He was doing his best to make her smile. “It’s not at all the same thing.”

“I was imagining my fist was a pussy, so I mean…” Negan reasoned with her having her drop her head back against the chair in frustration. “A nice, tight, wet pussy.”

“You’re not helping this. You should be furious with me,” she snorted noticing that he was doing the motion of jerking off with his hand. With how big the gesture was it had her laughing out again. “Stop! You’re making me laugh.”

“I mean, it shouldn’t make you laugh. It’s that big,” Negan pointed to his hand smiling himself when she pushed his hand aside. “Come on. I don’t give a shit that you slept with Joel. I mean, I care. But I’ve been losing out to Joel my whole life. I’ve come to expect it. And we really didn’t make it official between the two of us,” Negan listed off the many reasons that he decided he couldn’t be mad at her. “If Lucille walked through that door and jumped me, I would crumble at the knee and have sex with her,” Negan considered what he said and he cleared his throat. “Then I’d have to consider the fact that I likely just had sex with a zombie, but I’d still hit it.”

“Jesus Negan,” she shoved into his shoulder having him snorting. Dropping back onto his ass, he stretched out his legs and braced his weight on his palms behind him on the floor. “You are everything I want. You’re everything I’ve longed for from Joel for years. You make me happy. You make me so fucking happy…”

“Then what’s the problem?” Negan stammered, his hazel eyes trying to figure out what was going on right now. There was so much going on inside of her head and Negan knew that she was torturing herself with her thoughts. “What is it you want Y/N?”

“You need to yell at me,” she demanded having Negan sigh loudly. “Yell at me. Get furious.”

“Why?” Negan wasn’t sure why that would help her in the position that she was in. “Is it going to help you to have me scream at you?”

“No, but it’s what I deserve. Because you are so fucking perfect,” she stressed, her words lingering a little long because of the way she was crying. “So please, just scream at me. Yell at me. Do something other than try to make me feel better.”

“How fucking dare you,” Negan spoke in a fake, condescending tone. “Your ex-husband that you are still very much in love with did something romantic and you ended up sleeping with him because of it. I’m fucking furious with you.”

“Negan!” she hissed at him having Negan roll his eyes dramatically. Instead of being angry with her, he was giving her an excuse for what she did. That’s not what she wanted at all because she felt like a terrible person for all of this.

“I am so fucking mad at you!” Negan raised his voice, his face scrunching up. Once his features softened, he threw his right hand up and waited for her response. “Was that better? Did you like me yelling at you?”

“Not really,” she was honest hearing him laugh. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan sighed and took a long pause to think about what he was going to say.

“If you wanted me to scream at you endlessly and have a fucking shit fit, I’m not gonna,” Negan declared pressing his right hand in over his chest. “I understand. I get being in love with someone. I am kinda fucking pissed at Joel for letting you leave looking like that though.”

“I broke his heart,” she replied back blowing off the idea that Joel did anything wrong. “He offered to drive me home, but I just shattered his soul by telling him that I don’t think we should be together and that we were only meant to be friends.”

Considering everything that had been laid out before him, Negan pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees, “So now what?”

“What do you mean?” she watched him uncomfortably expecting something so much different to be happening right now.

“I mean what now?” Negan repeated himself, but he could tell that she had a hard time understanding things. “Do you want to get back with Joel?”

“I can’t,” she answered with a loud swallow reaching for her hot chocolate since her hands started to get cold again. “Joel may think he wants to get back with me, but he doesn’t remember how sad and broken he was when we were together. I made him miserable. And he broke my heart. We’re not good together. We made two beautiful babies, we made a life with each other, but he broke it off four years ago. He had four years to show me that he felt this way, but he never did.”

“Do you want to stop having something with me?” Negan brought his finger to the middle of his chest pointing at himself.

“You shouldn’t want to still have something with me,” she reminded him getting his nose to wrinkle up in irritation.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Negan stressed, patting his chest with his whole hand. “Do you still want to be with me?”

“I hurt you,” she reiterated what she had done having Negan mutter something under his breath. “What?”

“Do you like spending time with me?” Negan inquired noting the way her features softened. Nodding her head, she bit down on her bottom lip and looked away from him. There was that guilt again. “Do you like having sex with me?”

“Negan,” she frowned letting out a small laugh. Why did he have to make a serious situation so lighthearted by the way he acted and said things?

“Answer the questions,” Negan demanded, his voice stronger than he had been most of the night.

“Yes,” she didn’t know where this would get them. Thinking about her answer, Negan licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend? Officially?” Negan wondered having her lips part, surprised to hear that come from his mouth. “Because if you want to be my girlfriend, then that makes it official. Which means neither you nor I can fuck around on each other. It’s putting a label on it now so I can’t feel bad for the things before.”

“Why would you still want to be with me?” she blurt out, flustered that he would even be suggesting that idea.

“Because if you didn’t care about me, if you didn’t love me…you wouldn’t be here right now crying. You walked in the freezing cold through snow to punish yourself because you thought you hurt me,” Negan pointed in the direction of the front door where he found her when she showed up. “You’re here and you’re telling me the truth. And the fact that you did it has you devastated. Because you love me. Part of you still loves Joel and I understand that, but I fucking love you. I’ve always fucking loved you. Knowing that you’re honest with me? Fuck, that’s a big deal. Now if we agree to be official here and Joel pulls something, I can’t promise that I won’t punch him, but since we weren’t official before, I can’t make a big deal out of it.”

“You love me?” she focused on the words he had said having him smile. Groaning in pain, Negan adjusted his body and crawled back toward her to lay his head in her lap after she set the mug down again. Rubbing his head against her thigh had her exhaling loudly, her fingers shakily moving down to brush her fingers through his dark hair.

“It’s not obvious?” Negan stammered, his head lifting up with his eyes staring longingly into hers. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. That kinda love just doesn’t go away.”

Caressing down over the side of his face, she knew that she was getting even more emotional hearing him talking about loving her, “You told me that I make you happy. Well you? You make me so fucking happy. And I love spending time with you and the children. I understand that Joel is always gonna be in our lives. And I accept that.”

“I carry so much baggage,” she reminded him and he laughed.

“I carry crazy fans. Mental trauma. A bum fucking knee and a bad back. Occasionally some paparazzi and reporters,” Negan rambled off all the problems that he knew that came with being with him. “Being with me means that you have to share me with fans. I’ve had serious anger issues in the past. I swear like you can’t believe. I have the humor of a teenage boy. I make crazy amounts of dick jokes all the time. Like, I can’t help it. It’s dick and balls in this immature brain all the fucking time. I have a crazy sex drive where I’ll probably wanna have sex, a lot. I’ve been really romantic with you and I love making things romantic, but some days I’m the break your bed type of wild. I know I’ll get depressed when my career is finally over, but I’ll never take it out on you. I’ll just be…sad. Just like I’m sad about Lucille. I hide my emotions behind a fake smile all the time. So we’re the same. You and me? We’ve gone through so much shit. But I accept you. I want all of you. Broken heart and all. Cus’ you told me that I bring you joy. If I can do that for you from here on out. Then I consider that to be a success.”

“I don’t understand you,” she whimpered with Negan pressing his hands up over the arms of the chair to hover his lips in over hers.

“I don’t understand me either,” Negan agreed with her, a smile tugging at his handsome features drawing attention to his prominent dimples. “So what do you say? Do you wanna officially date me or not? Because either way I can accept your answer. Because either way I wanna still be in your life.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she claimed, her eyes full of awe for him.

“Then don’t,” Negan breathed out, slowly standing up with a pained sound. Motioning her to stand up, Negan sat down in the chair and then led her to sit in his lap. Wrapping her up in his arms, he got her comfortable enough so she was staring into his eyes. Palming over the side of her face, Negan shrugged his shoulders. “Just tell me if it’s not me that you want to be with. I’m a big boy. I’ll be able to handle it. I’d just like to give us…give this a real chance.”

After considering his offer, she nodded her head and let out a tremoring breath, “Yes.”

“Yes?” Negan was dramatic with the way he bobbed his head about.

“Yes, I want to give this a try,” she responded knowing that it made her a terrible person. Negan deserved better than her. And she knew that. Joel did too, but she knew what her heart longed for. Joel was someone she loved very much, but the way that Negan was? The way he made her feel? That was something she wanted from Joel for years. Yet it was Negan that it came naturally with. “If you’ll take me.”

“Of course I’ll take you,” Negan leaned forward to nuzzle his nose in against hers. “Is this where you expect me to pick you up and throw you in the fire for what you did?”

“That’s not even funny,” she snorted having his wicked laugh follow. “Negan.”

“If it wasn’t funny, why did you laugh?” Negan joked with her, tapping the tip of her nose with his pointer finger. “It was pretty funny.”

There seemed to be something that lingered in Y/N’s eyes when Negan tipped his head back, “What is it?”

“It’ll break Joel’s heart knowing that I still wanted to be with you after everything that he did today,” she thought aloud having Negan pull her in closer to him so she could get more comfortable. “I think it makes me a bad person for letting his hopes get up.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Negan frowned, wrapping his arm around her waist to make sure that she was safely in his lap as he adjusted his legs underneath her. “I’m not gonna fuck with Joel or rub his nose in it. Because that’s not right. But whatever comes our way? We’ll handle it in the best way we can.”

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis @jennydehavilland

#Negan #Joel Miller #Joel Miller fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan fanfiction #Negan x reader #Joel Miller x reader #Negan x you #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller smut #The Walking Dead #The Last of Us #tlou fanfiction #The Walking Dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #The Last of Us fanfiction #Negan Smith

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rainbowcaleb · 2 days ago

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a dinnertime distraction

happy thanksgiving! I love you critical role fandom <3 here's something from my table to yours today :)

“Is applesauce a soup?”

Caleb considered this, gently putting the half peeled potato and knife onto the table, and leaned back in his chair.

“Let’s give the thought an unravel. Is it a liquid?”

Luc propped his elbows on the table, an action that once was a big reach now a little easier after a growth spurt. “Yeah. A chunky liquid, but so is soup.”

Caleb moved his finger in the air to mimic a check mark. “Can you eat it with a spoon?”

“It’d be stupid to eat with a fork!” Luc laughed. “Forks can’t slurp.”

Caleb checked again. “But is it hot?”

Luc stuck out his tongue. “That’d be so gross, hot applesauce, it’s not ‘sposed to be hot, its too— wait, wait, is that pie?”

“Is apple pie hot apples?” Caleb fought against his smile, trying to keep the teacherly demeanor going.

“Duh! Or like maybe sorta hot apples if you leave it in the window too long and forget about it.”

“If applesauce is hot, or lukewarm,” Caleb reached out to tap Luc’s nose. “Is it a soup?”

“Yeah!” Luc clapped on the table. “Totally! Oh, is apple pie a soup?”

Caleb shrugged. “What do you think?”

Luc pushed off from the table, making the potato wobble in place, and ran back where he came from, yelling into the kitchen. “Apple pie is soup! Apple pie is soup!”

Caleb stifled his laughter into his cardigan sleeve, mischief bubbling over anyways. It wasn’t more than a minute later when Veth poked her head around the doorframe.

“What did you tell my son?” She glared at Caleb. “You’re worse than Jester! We were eating salad with only a spoon for a week ‘cause she convinced him it’s cereal!”

“Whatever works to make him eat his greens.” He smiled serenely, the very picture of a wise sage on the mountain.

Veth wasn’t fooled and jabbed her fingers at him. “All those potatoes better be peeled soon, young man. If you have time for shenanigans you have time to help me make dinner.”

“Meine gute Freundin, there’s always time for shenanigans.” Caleb flicked his hands in the air, a muttered word under his breath, and the potato lifted in the air without him touching it.

“Damn right there is.” Veth grinned. “However I’m starving and Beau is shockingly horrible with a knife and I don’t trust Fjord anywhere near the silverware in case he takes a bite and swallows again. I’m relying on you Caycay.”

Caleb held up a hand in salute, then grabbed the potato peeler again.

Veth looked him over, a thought pinching her brow. “You want company? I could send Essek in after he finishes the onions with Caduceus.”

The potato peeler almost skipped a beat towards a finger tip rather than potato skin. “Ah, well, if the point is alacrity perhaps don’t send a distraction my way?”

Veth smiled and Caleb knew his mistake immediately.

“So Essek is a distraction huh. Hot boi would distract you from your potato duties. So you do have a little crushypoo like Jester said.”

“No, Veth, I didn’t say—“

His words fall into empty air as Veth skipped back into the kitchen, calling Essek’s name with far too much glee in her voice.

#critical role #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #mighty nein fic #critical role fanfic #shadowgast #veth brenatto #luc brenatto #my fic

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riririnnnn · 3 days ago

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I have this foreboding feeling that while we are prepared for Sae's and Shidou's backstory, Nagi's backstory is going to sneak from behind and punch us in the gut.

No, I don't think it's going to be straight up depression like Kaiser's, but I do think that it'll hit close to home.

You see, Nagi got Laissez-faire parents which means they never really interfered with his life. Like, these type of parents—as I have read on some websites—will basically set their child free and let them do whatever they want with no or very few rules/restrictions. They will not tell you, "Oh! You should do this!" or "Oh! You shouldn't do this!" They will simply let you figure out your life all by yourself.

I'm not an expert on this and I'm not calling this type of parenting bad in any way. Every child is different with different needs, and I'm sure there are many who grew up in this kinda family and liked this parenting method. However, I do think that Nagi didn't like it that much, and I got two reasons to think this way:

1. "That's nice."

When Reo said that his family constantly meddles in his life, Nagi's immediate reaction was, "That's nice" instead of being surprised or disgruntled. If Nagi really liked his parents NOT meddling in his life, then he should've said something like, "Really!? Sucks to be you, Reo. I can't imagine living a life like that!"

You getting me?

Also, we all know how Nagi is—he definitely feels that telling someone to do or not to do something is a hassle, so he, probably, feels that if someone is doing all this for you, then you are important for them.

And before any one says, no, I don't think Nagi was tying up his tongue thinking, "They are his parents. They wouldn't want anything bad for their own child, right? I shouldn't say anything against them and should say good things about them just to be safe." I don't think he has this kind of filter in him.

2. "Don't die ."

So, why would you not want someone to die? Of course, because you care for them and want them to be with you.

"Want"

That's really what I'm tryna highlight.

It's a pretty common knowledge that some children are just naturally more independent while others are a bit more dependent and seek guidance from the elders. Considering Nagi's first reaction to knowing about Reo's parents' meddling, I think that Kiddo!Nagi falls into the latter category—someone who likes to be guided and helped by the adults. Now, place Kiddo!Nagi with his Laissez-faire parents... You are getting where I'm going with this one?

That's why I think that Kiddo!Nagi, probably, thought that his parents didn't love him/care for him. And what happens if someone doesn't love you or care for you? Yeah, they don't care if you die which, somewhat, explains why Older!Nagi was happy to hear, "Don't die [before us (probably)]" from his parents.

I have already talked about his potential backstory before too, so it was actually when I heard he had longer bangs as a child that made my head turn to him again—something felt odd.

I understand that having long bangs is not a big deal—Niko's bangs literally cover his eyes, but having it as a kid is way different, y'know. Once you are like 12-13, you somewhat become capable of doing your own hair and clothes by yourself, so you can manage whatever aesthetics you prefer. However, for a kid younger than that, it's the parents' responsibility to look after his/her hair and clothes, and we all know that long bangs are quite bothersome—blocks our vision, sometimes stabs the eyes, and even irritatingly itches the nose.

All in all, till his backstory drops, I'd firmly believe that he was, though unintentionally, a neglected kid—at least, emotionally.

Now I can't get this image out of my head where Kiddo!Nagi is longingly staring at other kids in a park where everyone is learning things like riding a bicycle or maybe playing baseball and stuff with their parents while he is just.. there, probably, all alone.

#blue lock #bllk #nagi seishiro #雪 ranting

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pearlzier · 1 day ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 𝜗℘ㆍ nerd.ᐟmatt ☆ nerd.ᐟreader ，✿

"POPULAR, YOU'RE GONNA BE POPULAR," you'd sing when you were doing absolutely anything. it was no shock to anyone that you adore musicals, you're an absolute theatre fiend. since you were a little kid, it's been your form of escapism, being able to transform into a different person on stage instead of how sheepish you usually are. matt personally loved how confident you were infront of an audience and so passionately speaking the lines you'd worked so hard to perfect.

after the inarguable disaster that was the mean girls adaptation (you'd quite literally sobbed into his arms about how bad it was) you two were pretty sceptical about a wicked movie adaptation.

"you really like uh.." matt's watching you, as best as he can, anyway, considering the fact that he's driving the two of you towards the cinema. his eyes flutter back to the road, hand working over the wheel as he holds onto it. "uh.. what's her name, the woman who played glinda on broadway—" he drums his fingers against the wheel in thought.

you adored the original wicked on broadway, you'd practically learnt the entire score, and you were so serious when it came to elphaba and glinda. literally, you and your bestfriend had gone as them one time for halloween before it was trendy to do so—the 'og's, shall we say. you loved many musicals, but wicked would always have a soft spot in your heart. having gone to see it live, it was a memory you'd never forget.

you were like, the most qualified ever to judge whether a wicked movie adapation was actually as good as it should be.

well, matt thought you were, anyway. he held you in extremely high regard.

he doesn't even get to finish before you're interjecting, "kristin chenoweth!" causing a smile to spread across his lips. there you go again, so eager to talk about musicals. he only ever sees you this happy when you're talking about the things you like or when you're with him.

"kristin chenoweth," he agrees quietly, watching the way the gleam in your eyes twinkles as you speak. he's in awe, pure awe, at how perfect you are. he'll get better at voicing it, he's sure of it. he's just.. a little overwhelmed by how much he loves you.

"she's amazing, matt," you insist, adjusting the tote bag sat in your lap. nothing could describe the amount of energy you have right now, you're practically bouncing off the inside of the car with joy right now. this might be one of the best moments of your life if you're completely honest with yourself.

"this is gonna be amazing, 'm sure of it. the marketing team are working overtime for this." matt might actually cry if he has to drink down another glinda themed robinsons drink—he won't, he'll brave it for you, but still.

matt isn't exactly into musicals the way you are, he usually plays video games, watches movies, and gets so hype over them it's crazy. though, you get it, your interests make you just as feral. but this is a movie musical, so you think he'll be into it as well. wicked was inescapable, his entire for you page was just glinda and elphaba and he wasn't even mad about it. couldn't be, especially with how happy it made you.

it was like when hamilton was trending, oh, god, you'd performed like seven one woman performances of the musical that he's sure he can quote the entire thing by now.

the two of you are quiet for a little more, the original broadway cast singing away in the background as it plays through the car speaker from your phone, 'till the car comes to a stop outside of the cinema. "we're here," he murmurs, killing the engine once he makes sure his parking's perfect.

"oh my god, matt! we're here. what if i faint? what if i vomit? oh god, i won't get to see the movie if i faint or vomit, will i? oh no, uh, okay, i need, uh.. oh—"

"hey, hey, relax," matt says, gently, wanting you to chill out a little. he offers a sheepish little smile and he murmurs, "uh.. we can go get the themed popcorn buckets and you can throw up in there if you want to.. in style.." that makes you giggle and you nod, practically ripping off your seatbelt so that the two of you don't waste any more time inside the car. he has to quickly get out to join you, making sure that you don't run off on your own.

as the two of you walk, his fingers awkwardly twitch at his side as he wishes to hold your hand, but he's a little apprehensive to. though, he doesn't know why he's so apprehensive about it, the two of you are dating, holding hands is a simple thing. but.. he is.

"wicked's real popular," he murmurs, glancing around. "it's real amazing," you add in return. the two of you make your way inside the cinema together, and you glance at eachother for a moment. he smiles, you smile, and it sends a surge of warmth through both of you. leaning against his shoulder, you watch as he pays for the two tickets, and even more heat surges through you at the fact you're one hundred percent going to be seeing wicked now. matt likes how happy it makes you. it makes him almost as happy, he's sure.

and you notice this, after a little. there's a bit of a queue—wicked was so popular—and you end up interlacing your fingers with his own. it makes a heat flush to his cheeks and he offers a smile to you, shuffling closer to you and pressing by your side a little just to make sure you don't get too cold considering it's getting colder out.

"line's pretty long," he notes quietly, glancing up. you guys are near the front, so it's okay. "mmh, yeah, but we're almost in," you agree, swinging your interlaced hands as you stand beside eachother.

"popcorn buckets?"

"popcorn buckets."

you're a mess when you get out of there. literally, he's got stains on his hoodie from your tears, not that he minded all that much. he'd be a hypocrite otherwise, he's feeling a little teary eyed himself. thrusted against his chest are the various popcorn buckets that you'd bought, as you're currently trying to compose yourself and make sure your pink makeup doesn't run. you'd dressed up in full glinda gear, as best as you could, and he'd gone as elphaba. in your words, he'd given you total wicked witch of the west energy, in the best way.

he mumbles a soft, "you're okay," switching the popcorn buckets to one arm so he could gently rub your arm as the two of you made your way out. a soft smile settles on his lips, just watching you. everyday he's reminded in little moments why he loves you so much. this is definitely one of them. matt quietly leads you out of the screening room, giving smiles to the people working at the cinema, ones who are quiet heartwarmed by your reaction to the movie and how much it clearly meant to you.

"that was just.." matt sighs softly, shaking his head as heat flushes to his cheeks. he shifts his weight a little, gently tugging on you for you to stop. it's just outside of the screening, his eyes meeting yours. your eyes are glossy, gleaming beneath the pink and green lights illuminating you both. "perfect," you finish for him, words wavering a little as you speak. god, you've never enjoyed a movie more. definitely a top ten movie. maybe even for matt, too. he couldn't deny how good it was.

matt nods his head at your words, adding a quiet, "really perfect," you'd one hundred percent be watching the movie a gazillion times after, probably in cinemas, but also definitely on some illegal websites when you got back home. matt'd be joining you, totally. he may not have been a complete musical fan, but he'd get into it for you, definitely.

"i'm like.. a new person after that," you tell him, shuffling closer to him and leaning your head up against his chest. he places the buckets down on the ground beside you two and he tentatively wraps an arm around your middle to bring you up against his chest.

"me too.. might be a musical fan.." a laugh slips past his lips ³and in return you giggle too. a soft sigh escapes you afterwards, head tilting to the side a little. he blinks when you look up at him like that, and the heat floods his cheeks a little more. he's getting warm from all the attention, really. but you're looking up at him like he hung the stars and the moon, and it makes him feel so unbelievably special. his heart's pounding against his chest, literally.

"i.. wanna kiss you," you find yourself saying before you even realise, and matt practically splutters and stammers over his words in return. "oh, uh.. you do? oh," he swallows thickly, glancing down at the ground a moment before he meets your gaze again, nodding his head. he'd been thinking the same exact thing, since.. right now, your lips look like they're coated in pure sugar, all shiny and glossy.

"you can kiss me. i wanna.. wanna kiss you," he mumbles, slowly easing his hand upwards on your back, his lips parting.

you're the one who goes for it, bringing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. he brings you as close as possible with his hand, a dreamy sigh slipping past his lips against your own. you let your hands come up and cradle his jaw, both of your eyes shutting together as you take in the bliss that is the kiss you're sharing. when the two of you part, he's breathless, eyes gleaming in a similar way to yours. "you taste like candy," accurate, considering all the candy you'd been eating during the movie, but he loves it.

you feel a heat come to your face at that, and you glance at the floor sheepishly. "i do?"

matt nods, because yeah, you do. he sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the sweetness that you'd left there in the kiss. he's incredibly intoxicated by you, how you taste, how you feel, just.. you. "yeah.." he really wants to do it again, but the realisation that you two had just kissed in public hits him and he ends up burying his head in your hair to try hide himself in some way. "oh my god, we just kissed, in public," you say in realisation.

he's got absolutely no clue where all of this confidence comes from, but he murmurs a breathy, "y'know what's not public?" that makes your eyebrows raise in interest, lashes fluttering a little bit. matt relishes in that expression on your face, just for a moment.

"what is?" you soon ask, brows furrowing now.

"my bedroom," matt wiggles his eyebrows instinctively, and despite your surprise at his forwardness, you laugh. a genuine, soft, laugh. god, you adore him. enough to the point you quickly run behind him as he practically drags you back to the car.

ִ ֹ ★ @deansbite i hope you and our 120+ kids are proud o'me for writin' consistently :3

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @sarosfilms, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasgirl, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @cayleeuhithinknott, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @beausling, @lovesickgrlsrh0t , @cupiidk1lls, @sofiassaturn ִ ꒱

#𐙚˙ ana writes ⋆.˚#੭ nerd!reader 𐂯 ° ｡ !!#੭ nerd!matt 𐂯 ° ｡ !!#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #wicked

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constantfragmentation · 2 days ago

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Arcane S2 Thoughts

I've had a week to digest this season and well, I guess I have the unpopular opinion of being very disappointed. After the initial flash of gorgeous animation and some ooo's and awe's.... I was left with a bitter aftertaste. I can rewatch S1 loads of time. I don't think I can watch S2 again.

I'm happy for the fans that loved it and got what they wanted or the shippers that got what they wanted. I'm happy for you. Do your thing.

Me? Not so much. Even as a Silco fan (and I admit to squeeing for any footage of him at first), I'm not pleased. Yeah, my young Silco is a nerd, man-bun hottie, but that's where it ended for me. His entire characterization was nothing like the character I fell head over heels for in S1.

Vander's Flashback: I honestly don't find Felicia's inclusion necessary at all. In fact, I think it waters down everything between Silco and Vander. Their knowing her and the kids creates more questions, plotholes, and problems than it supposedly solves.

Why is Vander only in those memories with the kids? It's before the fallout with Silco. Why don't the kids know or remember nice Silco? Why do they only fear him (obv that's from Vander and Benzo, yes?)?

Why doesn't Silco seem to know Powder at Vander's dead body? Why would he kill Felicia's kids? None of it makes any fucking sense if he cared about Felicia. He hates Vander so much, he hates the kids too because he adopted them?

How the hell does S2 Young Silco turn into S1 Silco? Riot really messed this one up. Vander's attempted murder didn't change his entire personality.

It was a rebellion battle. People were going to get hurt and killed. They had to know this. So, whether Silco accidentally killed Felicia (as some fans are debating) or she died, is so damn dumb for Vander to solely blame Silco. Takes the kids, becomes a pacifist FIRST and then decides to (shave and grow younger) kill his brother for the greater good. Doesn't make one lick of sense narratively.

The narrative, characterization and animation inconsistencies don't help from S1 either. The drowning scene doesn't fit the S2 explanation. They're too young. Vander had a beard and appears much older on the bridge. Hell, S2 Young!Silco looks older than S1 Young!Silco. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. If people want to kiss Riot's ass, fine, but there was too much that was straight up lazy writing.

Silco's death is just glossed over considering how important he is. Silco did what Vander couldn't. Even without Shimmer, the Underground was thriving. Cait's mother's death/burial/statue gets more screen time and Silco gets dumped in the river. No one seems to question his death or what happened? Yeah, ok.

I'll use this moment to complain about the excessive music video montages this season too. I watched S1 again and the writing and use of music worked in unison and enhanced scenes. S2 felt like scenes in between music videos and it was irritating.

There was so much screentime wasted that could have been good dialogue heavy scenes that S1 was great at. Instead, time wasted on poorly executed plotlines that needed way more time to flesh out (Mel, Ekko and Viktor) and we have slowmo music videos and MCU fight scenes. Hermie's guitar song and Mission Impossible jokster crap was laughable and not in a good way.

Riot tried to pack too much into one season, and it was a mess. This season felt like watching a Marvel movie. Cool action sequences with little to no substance. All the nuance and grit from last season were gone in favor of the 'good vs. bad' trope. All the political-societal issues in S1 were abandoned that were far more fascinating to explore.

Mel has superpowers now? It feels all out of place. Her, Ambessa, and the Black Rose plot have zero time to make it interesting and plausible. She was introduced as this master manipulator/politician and her sage persona feels so forced.

Jesus Demigod Viktor was too much. I was excited for the Machine Herald and the psychedelic Arcane magical multiverse took me out. Making him to be the big baddie and timeloop it around to Jayce felt like a big cop out. Viktor deserved better. Hell, Jayce deserved better.

So much was sacrificed to make the whole Arcane magic THE point of the series when it was one of the least interesting aspects of the show. Hextech for weapons and the continuing problems between Piltover and Zaun was RIPE for storytelling. It seems each act needed several episodes to cover.

Ekko sure as fuck deserved better than that half assed time warp with Hermie. The AU really bothered me. Everything felt wrong. EVERYTHING. Nothing was explained well at all. It felt like complete fan service at the expense of the characters. Before people rip me saying "well duh! It was an AU!". You don't assassinate characters and plot to have a happy ending that insults your viewers.

They turned Zaun (its own cool character) into the bargain basement of Piltover. How is it sunny and pretty? Really? Mirror tricks? Everyone just forgave Piltover after years of oppression?

You're telling me Vi's death saved humanity? Fuck that shit right now. Piltover just stopped because a kid died? Suddenly everything became better? What happened to Jayce? Viktor? Hell, Hermie after decades didn't give two shits about Zaun, so what changed with the Council? Where's Singed? I don't buy it.

I don't buy Jinx/Powder being super normal smart girl. I LOVE JInx, but I believe she had mental issues prior breaking into Jayce's apartment. I don't think Vi's death made that go away (as I don't believe Silco's death did either). As someone who battles with mental health, this is insulting to me as a viewer.

I hated AU Silco. There. I said it. He just forgave Vander? Really? Bullshit. The reason Vander tried to kill him is stupid. A simple letter changed Silco? That fluffy-haired softy is not Silco. I can't imagine that Silco being the one who fought a rebellion. He probably would not have become a mob boss peddling drugs but this AU softboi dad feels so wrong. I never would have stanned AU Silco. Not in a million years.

S1 Silco's traits didn't magically appear because Vander betrayed him. The young S1 Silco had to be similar in many ways to older S1 Silco. Drive, ambition, ruthlessness, willing to die for a cause. I don't see Felicia's death changing that. I certainly don't see Vi's death changing that.

If Vander needed to kill Silco to stop the violence, etc, it's because he saw Silco as a threat to him or society as a whole. S1 Vander is known as The Hound. So, he seems to be violent as well. He takes credit for building the Underground when Felicia credits both 'bozos' for it. So Vander being upset she died and blaming Silco to the point of murder is a slap in the face to fans' intelligence.

I do hate that by Vi's death, everything is magically better. I can't express how much I hate that. AU Powder was irritating and was nothing like my Jinx that I love. Again so much wasted time that could have been better spent on good character driven scenes that actually advance the plot.

Pointless characters. Introduce Isha (who I adored). Make her seem important to Jinx. Kill her and never mention her again. So what was the point of her inclusion this season? Just to make Jinx suicidal? I hated that also. Again WASTED SCREENTIME.

Oh, and Caitvi was a disgrace. I think shippers deserved better here, too. Caitlyn goes crazy dictator because of guilt over her mom. Granted, Caitvi only knew each other for a week-ish? Not a lot of time to make their relationship serious past an infatuation. Cait turns from all her good points last season to Ambessa's padawan.

Don't get me started on that side piece Maddie. Really? Cait you were that hard up? And that long awaited sex scene was a big eye roll. Vi goes to her sister, and shit goes to hell, and a few minutes later, she's fucking Cait in the same cell. Vi was reduced to shit this season.

I mean, these characters just got shafted in every way for a high speed train wreck ending that we've seen a million times in Disneyfied stories. Action sequences were more important than actual character development and plot.

You can't make me believe that one speech from Jayce 'seeing a possible future' suddenly got Zaun to work with and dress up as Piltover soldiers? Really?

I had high hopes for Sevika, and the girl got shit nothing to do except in two episodes. Her seat on the Council feels like a last-minute decision and not worthy enough to expand on.

What made S1 so great was the class divide between Zaun and Piltover and how it affected the characters. S2 decided to scrap that and go with the easy good vs evil trope instead. Even the parallels didn't have the same hit as last season.

I did like Jinx talking to her 'ghost' Silco in the jail cell. He was calming to her in contrast to Milo/Claggor except the implication that she should die (that's what I got out of that).

We didn't even get much from Singed. Yeah, he got his daughter back (in some form) but his story was so blah. We didn't get nearly enough of him and Warwick and what made Warwick.

I guessed a few years ago it was going to be Vander but I didn't like how it was handled.

Too many plotlines all rushed together without getting any decent screentime and explanations that don't confuse or insult viewers intelligence. OR you have to be a LOL fan/player to understand. I never played LOL before S1 and wasn't confused as to the main plot.

I loved all the characters in S1 and felt they were pretty much watered down or assassinated in S2 for an apocalyptical Demigod villain vs humanity battle done to death finale.

The Zaun/Piltover political-societal problems, parallels, corruption, science going wrong, pathway to hell paved with good intentions themes from S1 was so much better in every single aspect.

I'm still a fan of S1 and the characters and frankly, I'm going to ignore 95% of S2.

#arcane season 2 #silco #jinx #vi #viktor #jayce #mel #ambessa #sevika

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deathbxnny · 5 hours ago

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Hi I just wanted to say I loved the arcane adhd headcannons u wrote, the viktor one made me cry bc I want to be seen like that sooo bad. Do u think u could do some more characters? No pressure tho ur an amazing writer

Arcane characters with an S/o who has ADHD. | Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Aww, I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the last part, anon! I hope this is to your liking as well!<33

Content: Fluff, ADHD, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAITLYN

She noticed from the start that you were a little different from everyone else. Not that she necessarily cared much about it. You were still you after all, and your diagnosis is just a part of you she considers endearing.

With that said, Caitlyn always listens to your needs very closely and does everything in her power to help you out with them. She'll get you anything you ask for in hopes of making life easier for you. Whether it's medical help or just something to help with your fidgeting in general, you'll have it in no time with her.

Cait can, therefore, come off as kind of overbearing or overprotective at first. She wants you to lead a smooth and successful life, so she'll always be around to make any task doable for you. Procrastination does not exist when she's there, to say the least.

Her patience is an important part of your relationship that's practically invaluable. Your fidgety and unfocused nature took a moment for her to get used to, but she never makes a big deal out of it. Instead, she simply adapts to your needs and learns to cherish them as well.

》JINX

Probably the most understanding out of everyone, albeit in the most chaotic way possible. You two are a rather troubling duo, as she herself isn't in the best position to help you out properly. Her ideas are always outlandish yet somehow still work out in the end anyways, which is rather impressive.

You're both very fidgety, but she makes up for it with her hyper awareness. Procrastination is never a thing with her, considering how focused she always is on every project she has and so it becomes somewhat of a normal thing for you to simply work in the same space together, even if it's with just music playing in the background in-between you two.

She's the last person to ever treat you any differently for your diagnosis and doesn't ever let you feel bad for it either. You accept her, and she accepts you. Anyone that tries shaming you for it is as good as dead anyway.

You two learn how to take care of each other better than anyone else ever could. Jinx may not be able to help you out like a professional doctor could, but she'll do anything to help you out no matter what forever.

》EKKO

He doesn't entirely get it at first, mainly as he was always surrounded by people who were rather unique in their own way. But as always with anything, he still does his best to learn everything he needs to about your diagnosis and how he can help you with the resources he has. Which aren't many, but his creativity truly shines at times when it comes to you.

You're not treated any differently from everyone else, and he sure as hell doesn't allow anyone to do that either. You are normal, just with more needs that he tends to carefully. So whether it's your inability to focus well or stay still for a long time, he'll find a way to make things easier. He understands your procrastination and doesn't really push you to do things unless it's very important. But he'll work with you on any projects or missions you may have.

His patience is endless for you and his kindness even more so. He understands if you feel frustrated sometimes and tries his best to soothe you when your emotions are a little harder to process. He'll let you fidget and be yourself as much as you want to, never the type to stop you. You should be yourself around him, and he appreciates how vulnerable you are with that.

Ekko loves you no matter how hard things can get with your diagnosis. He takes every challenge on with ease and never judges you for it either.

#arcane #arcane x genderneutral reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane jinx #arcane jinx x reader #jinx #jinx x reader #arcane caitlyn x reader #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #arcane ekko #arcane ekko x reader #ekko #ekko x reader

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celtrist · 6 hours ago

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This was a planned thing I had around the time I had this little rant (appreciate everyone who's bothered reading that thank you!)

Seeing as we have three canonically Asexual characters, I thought each of them having a different romantic orientation (and varying asexuality on the scale) would be fun and neat to show the variations to the orientations! But I was really stumped on Mammon since I was pretty set on Alastor and Octavia, but Mammon not being any form of aromantic didn't feel right, not terribly ooc, just definitely felt a bit more like "he's the leftovers" sort of thing when divvying up the romantic orientations. But lo and behold, the new episode of Helluva came out and helped solved that little quandrie. So here are my thoughts below on each!

Alastor (Loveless Aromantic) If you've seen my rant, you probably have a good idea why I labeled him as a "loveless aromantic" (meaning in this sense I'm talking about, he just wouldn't have any form of romantic affections or go into something like a QPR or the like). And I do genuinely think he would be! But I know there's A LOT of bias for Alastor NOT being aromantic (or at least open to some sort of relationship), and I will admit I might've been a bit biased here too! I've just seen a lot of love for only specific parts of the aro spectrum that "allows" Alastor to get with someone, and I wanted to give some love to the aro spectrum that gets little to no appreciation (plus I do just genuinely think he'd be this). If you don't agree, all is fair ദ്ദി（• ˕ •マ.ᐟ The point is, I realize I'm probably in the minority here. Plus, it's all a guessing game more or less until something is officially stated, which probably will never happen for any of these three.

Anyway, like I said, I just don't see Alastor really getting as close to anyone even as a QPR. At the VERY LEAST, not in a QPR that has a lot of romantic parts to it (kissing on the lips, cuddling, etc.). My man wouldn't have any interest in marriage or anything romantic, he's very happy on his own and probably gossips about OTHER people's love lives. Then again, he seemed pretty close to cracking when he heard Charlie ranting about her own love life... With that said, I do think he DOES like the company of others, he's VERY social after all. But actually, getting intimate with someone? Mmm, that doesn't feel right for him to me. A kiss on the cheek or PERHAPS a cuddle here and there at most, but nothing like bathing with someone or kissing with tongue. He's also a man of the roaring twenties, so you KNOW how he thinks about intimacies that might have no romantic/sexual connotations by themselves (like bathing with someone) are romantic on their own just because being that close to someone was seen that way in his time. Plus again, I just don't think he'd be interested in that stuff as is (potentially he could be both touch-starved and touch-aversed. And oh boy, wouldn't that be a conundrum!) On one hand, I like and can see Alastor being sex-repulsed, on the other I can also see him just feeling nothing towards it. Considering Angel's "advances" in both the first episode and the pilot, he does have a bit of a strong reaction towards sex, but nothing crazy either. I can see him being lukewarm to the subject (so he could read a book or read a script out loud with sex in it), but he could be repulsed when it actually INVOLVES HIM. I can definitely see him somewhat annoyed with the subject for how everywhere it is though.

Octavia (QPR Aromantic) It's a little hard to pinpoint, but I can personally see Octavia getting into a close QPR sooner than Alastor, but maaayybe only be a hair. Octavia could possibly get into a platonic relationship with someone that would have remnants of seeming romantic. I do think she's probably the most sex-repulsed of the three, if in part because of her father's inclinations that he doesn't seem to hide even when she's around. Honestly, I feel like we still haven't seen enough of her to get a good grasp on this aspect of her character in if she would be interested in getting as close as to a QPR with someone. But I'd certainly like to think so, because damn does our girl need it. Her falling into some sort of relationship would probably be hard seeing as how her parents' relationship was so awful. So she could be hesitant about doing something like that.

Mammon He was the big toughy! And while his advances on Leviathan might have been meant in a more platonic way or just for show to go against Ozzy's and Bee's romantic relations, I'm going with what's there! So Mammon seems like he could be straight or bi/pan. But I don't have a hard grasp on which so I'm tossing that in the air. I don't think he'd be sex-repulsed just because of how "sex makes money". Like, there's no question that sex appeal is a big part of business even if something isn't even that sexual. So while I think he's not largely interested in doing anything sexual, I can see him being okay or even lukewarm to the subject, maybe just not getting the appeal entirely. Maaaayybe he's sex-favorable? Of the three I would imagine he would be the most likely to be sex-favorable, but I dunno.

I like the idea of Octavia being the only one aware as to what her orientations are. Alastor is... well he's Alastor, and Mammon doesn't seem like he'd be too interested in the details of things. Just that "there's straight, gay, and the between area".

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trippinsorrows · 1 hour ago

Text

looking through your eyes + twenty eight

authors note: the infamous "discussion" has arrived.....

cw/tw: angst, graphic scenes depicting pregnancy complications

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

***gif courtesy of the lovely @dejameflorecer ***

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 10k

There are a couple different ways Solana played out the moment she would tell Roman about her pregnancy. Several cute ideas she entertained to break the news him. A cake that was half pink, half blue. Taking drugstore pregnancy tests and presenting them to him. She even considered coming up with a drawing of some sort. Regardless, with all of her ideas, there was a major theme of happiness.

And special.

She wanted it to be special.

However, there’s absolutely nothing special about how this has played out. Nothing happy about it.

She feels awful.

Because not only has he found out about her pregnancy in the most inconvenient way, he's found the letter too.

It couldn't have gone any worse than this.

Sniffling, Solana struggles with just how to respond to his question. “Roman, I—”

He lifts the papers, asking in a steel voice, “where did you get this?”

Silence.

For some reason, speaking is a difficult, tricky task that has her trembling and stammering. “I—” Pause. “I—” Another pause. “She—” Another pause followed by her shutting down altogether, eyes closing.

“Solana.” Hate. She hates the way he’s saying her name right now, the almost distaste present in his voice and painted on his face. “I asked you a question.”

And, he deserves an answer. He deserves a lot of answers right now. Taking a deep breath, she manages to pull it together just enough to finally answer him. “Fetu…..she…..she gave it to me.”

“When?”

Eyes closing once more, Solana responds in that same, small voice, “when you took me to meet her…..”

It’s an answer, the truth, but it’s not anything that seems to chunk away at his anger. “You’ve had this that long?” Closing the door behind her, she finds herself moving towards him. “You kept this from me—”

She sniffles, stopping in the middle of the room. “Roman, please—I—I can explain.”

“Explain? What the fuck is there to explain, Solana?” He snaps, and she finds herself jumping as he throws the papers onto the floor. “You had no right to keep this from me!”

“I was worried about you, okay!” She cries, trying to find her own voice and way to explain her thought process. “You were in such a bad place, Roman. I didn’t know if—if it would make things worse!”

His eyes widen ever so slightly. “How the fuck could a letter from my aunt who I just lost and didn’t get to say goodbye to make things worse?”

“Because I didn’t know what was in it!” She matches his tone and volume, unwilling to just let him explode on her without her even having a chance to explain. “Because Fetu gave it to me. Not you. She gave it to me and asked me to give it to you when I felt the time was right.”

“Yeah, because your judgment is so fucking good.”

Another pause. Hurt. She’s hurt by his cruelty in this moment. “That’s not fair.” Because it isn’t. Because she understands his emotions, but the way he’s expressing himself, the hurtful things that he’s saying are uncalled for. “That’s not fair at all, Roman. And you know it.” She shakes her head and gestures to herself. “I did what I did out of love and concern.”

“And this?” Solana stills as he reaches for the sonogram, holding it up between them. “Was keeping this from me out of love and concern?” Her eyes shut once more, emotion building, tears brewing. “I’m going to ask you this one time and one time only.” It’s just a second of a delay, but it feels like an eternity. “Are you pregnant?”

Excited. Nervous. Relieved. Happy.

These are just a several of the emotions Solana expected to feel in the moment and space where she shared this life changing news with her husband. There was even a part of her that anticipated him having not much of a reaction, because she knows feelings are hard for Roman. Knows that him learning to love and be okay with loving her took some time. Thus, him needing time to process this news was also a potential outcome. So, yes, she didn’t have this fantasy of this being the perfect moment.

But, this……this moment is the last thing she expected.

The last thing she ever wanted.

Eyes closed, heart breaking, Solana answers, “yes.” Her chest feels tight, her stomach in all kind of knots. “I’m—I’m ten weeks.”

Silence

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t necessarily have to because the moment Solana reopens her eyes and sees him, that’s all she needs to see.

He looks gutted.

It must be a good minute or two before he asks in a low voice. “How long?” Her lack of an immediate response prompts him to ask again. “How long have you known, Solana?”

God, she feels miserable. Fingers grasping with the material of her dress, she stammers, “I–I started to suspect a couple weeks—”

“Weeks?” Again, another wide eyed, floored expression. “You’ve known about this for weeks and you didn’t say anything?”

“I—I went to Dr. Michaels and asked for a pregnancy test, because I didn’t—I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.” She adds on, almost desperately, “because I know how hard it must have been for you justifying and defending me not being pregnant yet.” Sniffling, her mind goes back to that night that was the perfect, heartbreaking combination of joy and devastation. “But, the same night I got the results back was the same night I got the call about Fetu, and it just—it was all just so much.” Because it was and still is. Solana’s voice cracks as she shares, “it felt wrong to tell you we've created life when you just lost it, Roman.”

The shattered expression on her husband’s face, however, is unchanging as he asks, “you told my doctor before you told me?” For all her efforts to be completely honest and forthcoming with him in this moment, it seems like every response she gives only digs the hole deeper. “Who else have you told?”

“Nobody!” She answers, desperate for him to know that despite how bad this situation is, this isn’t something that she’s been spreading and sharing freely. “I told your doctor, and he gave me the referral to the OB. And……and I had to tell Dr. Stratus—”

Roman stands up from the bed, his back toward her as he paces in a focused area of the room. “All these fucking people…..”

Solana hugs herself tighter, a slight attempt to self-soothe as she can feel her anxiety increasing by the second. “It’s only been the medical professionals, Roman. I haven’t said anything to Bayley, to Naomi. I just—I wanted to tell you first!”

“But, you didn’t, Solana.” He snaps, piercing gaze on her. “You kept me in the dark!” It’s taking everything in her to not break down in front of him, to not let the weight of the situation overwhelm her, because again, his emotions are valid. But his communication, so harsh, is crushing. “You kept the letter from me, you kept your pregnancy from me, what the fuck else have you been keeping from me!”

“Nothing!” She shouts back, her feelings shifting yet again from hurt to angry. Frustrated. Solana feels so damn frustrated. They can talk, they can argue, but she cannot handle this accusatory tone he’s taken. “You get to be angry with me. You have a right to be angry with me. But, you don’t have the right to yell at me and act like I did what I did out of spite. I was worried sick about you and didn’t know what else to do, okay?”

And that, along with everything else she’s said thus far is the God’s honest truth. She didn’t know what the hell to do, so she did her best and what felt the best option in the moment.

Clearly…..very clearly, she was wrong.

“Ro…..” Solana continues, pleading almost, “you were in such a bad place, I felt like I had no other options.”

His eyes tell all the story. “And what do you think this puts me in, huh?” He looks just as frustrated as he speaks more to himself than her. “I started…..started to suspect that you were, but I pushed it away, because I knew—I thought you would tell me.” Another look of disdain and disgust. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

There’s something about his words, about all of the words and statements and accusations that causes Solana to lose the already grip she had on her emotions. It’s not really until this second that she allows herself to freely express how she feels versus focusing on helping him understand.

“Do you think I liked keeping this from you?” A whispered, rhetorical thing weighed down by weeks of pent up emotions and hidden struggles. “Do you think I liked hiding the fact that while you’re working out or handling business or sleeping, I’m hunched over a toilet puking my brains out because I’ve had terrible morning sickness? Or the fact that I had less than an hour to be happy about my pregnancy because right after I found out Fetu was dying? That I liked being alone at our babies’ first appointment?” At this point, she’s no longer focused on him, on his reaction, because this is her space to now to speak freely and openly about all the things she’s been experiencing the past few weeks. “I’ve hated every second of this, Roman! The lying, the secrets, all of it! It’s not me, and you know it, but I did it because I was looking out for you! Because I was trying to do what’s best for you, because I fucking love you! Sometimes more than I love myself!” She throws her hands up, tears flowing freely. “And you want to talk about keeping things from people?” Anger is imbued in her voice as she demands. “Roman, how many things have you kept from me? Huh? How many times have you lied to me?”

His voice is slightly calmer and quieter than it’s been the entire conversation. “That’s different, and you know it.”

“No, it’s not!” Scoffing, Solana is no longer interested in trying to explain her reasons when it’s obvious he’s not interested in listening to her. “You keep things from me all the time because you think you’re protecting me, like—like I can’t handle it!”

“Because you can’t, Solana!”

“That’s not for you to decide!” It never was. “Don’t you realize that the more you hide from me, the more I worry? Like your blood pressure. Roman, I asked you about that, and you lied to my face. You lied to me.”

A slight pause. “How the hell do you know about that?”

“Why does that matter?” Her eyes widen at the fact that that is the question he decided to ask versus focusing on the issue at hand. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

He runs his hand through his hair that’s down and hanging as he shouts, “I didn’t want you to worry!” His voice is slightly lowered as he adds, “I had it handled.”

“No, you didn’t, and that was the problem!” Her volume increases as she covers her face with her hands, feeling so overwhelmed by all of this. “You try to handle everything on your own, and you can’t and that’s okay, because you’re just a human being, Roman. But, what’s not okay is to keep lying to me. Yes, I kept these things from you, but I’ve been honest about everything else. You have a pattern of lying and not telling me things not just because you don’t want to worry me, you do it because you don’t trust me!”

“That’s not—”

“Why don’t I know where my own medicine is, huh?” Because the minute they returned home from Fetu’s place, the medicine, her medicine, that she’d been administering to herself the whole week they were gone was now nowhere to be found. Only for it, her exact morning dosages, to be ready and waiting on her nightstand the next day. “Why have I never been able to drive myself to my own therapy appointments? Why did my husband’s doctor have to tell me the truth about your blood pressure before you did?”

He closes his eyes, fingers pressed to his temple, “Solana, stop.”

“Just admit it!” She can’t be quiet, even if she wanted to, because it’s all just too much. It’s all come to this very moment where everything is laid out on the table. Where all of the feelings, both pregnancy and life fueled, cause her cup to spill over. “You don’t trust me, Roman, and you can say it’s because of the pregnancy and Fetu’s letter, but we both know the truth. What it really is.”

And, it’s the flash in his eyes, something a mixture of something she can’t identify but understands that is her confirmation. “Just—just say it!” She’s a crying, shouting mess, a perfect correspondence to the weight of the tension that fills the room right now. “Say—”

“Fine! You want me to say it, I’ll fucking say it!” He finally breaks, voicing the words he’s clearly been suppressing for months. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you tried to kill yourself! When you tried to leave me!”

Silence.

It’s that piece. That one piece that’s needed to complete the puzzle, to finalize the picture, to fill in the blank. But, it’s a completion that crushes her. The fact that he’s finally acknowledged it, the pain in his voice, the hurt on his face.

Nodding to herself, Solana is finding it even harder to put words together that accurately describe what she’s feeling in this moment. “It always—” Her voice cracks, crumbling under the tonnage of devastation. “It always goes back to that, doesn’t it?” He says nothing nor is he looking at her, his gaze instead focused on the ground. “It doesn't….it doesn’t matter what I do, the work I’ve put in, how many times I’ve apol—” She slaps her hand over her mouth, holding back a sob. A deep, heavy breath followed by a heartbreaking question. “Roman…..what kind of marriage can we have if you don’t trust me?”

To be fair, she’s not sure what kind of response she was wanting from him. What would have been comforting or even helpful for her to hear. But, that’s irrelevant and immaterial.

It’s irrelevant and immaterial because he doesn’t say anything.

And that….that has to be the most heartbreaking thing to come out of all of this.

Wordlessly, Solana turns away to walk out the room, silently hoping—praying—he calls after her, that he moves quick enough to gently grab and turn her around. That he so tenderly cups her face and kisses her forehead, telling her that they can figure this out, that they can work through this.

But, none of that happens.

He says and does nothing.

Just lets her walk out.

————

Years.

It’s been years since Roman has felt this overwhelmed. Since he’s felt so out of control.

Since he’s felt lost.

And it’s the first time in a long time he’s not been able to go to his aunt for advice.

Fingers gripping the steering wheel, he easily switches from one lane to another, speeding past the fucking Honda in front of him that doesn’t seem to understand what a fast lane is.

It’s a silly, minimal thing to be irritated over, but he’s him, and he’d gladly welcome anything other than what he’s feeling right now.

To push away the sight of Solana’s devastated expression when he finally admitted his not trusting her.

A surprise to himself, in some ways.

He’s always thought his refusing to allow her access to medication, not letting her drive herself to therapy and other acts were done out of love. Came from a place of protection and rightful due diligence. And all of that can be true along with the fact that, again, in some ways, he doesn’t trust her.

Doesn’t trust that she won’t try to hurt herself again.

That she won’t try to leave him again.

Arriving at his destination, a lookoff about twenty minutes from the house, a secluded place that allows for a safe sorting of all his thoughts and feelings. Roman puts the car in park and hits the lights before shutting off the engine.

Eyes closed, head back against the headrest, only one word comes to his mind: fuck.

The past two weeks have been some of the hardest of his life, and the fact that losing the person he’d normally confide in about how fucked up he feels just makes things infinitely harder.

He hates every single part of this.

Hates how hard he came at Solana, how she kept these things from him, how he has been keeping things from her.

It’s all just so messy and complicated. Some of it of his doing, some of it of hers.

But, what he’s realizing he hates even more is not knowing everything that she’s been dealing with while pregnant.

She was pregnant when he hit her.

She was pregnant when he left her to go to Italy, even after she begged him to stay and work things out.

She was pregnant when he destroyed Fetu’s house in his state of grief and rage, a mess she had to clean up.

She’s been pregnant and apparently sick from said pregnancy while comforting and taking care of him.

It’s all been on her, and she hasn’t said a word because she’s been trying to protect him.

Yet despite all that, he’s still hurt. Hurt that he wasn’t the first person she told about them expecting. And logically, it makes no sense. He knows his wife. Knows why she made the decision she made, even with the letter.

Fetu giving it to her, leaving it up to her to decide when to give it to him, makes all the sense in the world.

Especially given the content in said letter.

But, it still fucking hurts.

Hurts that she’s been going through all of this alone. Because he’s only ever wanted to help and support her, and in a time where she’s probably needed it more than ever, he’s been MIA.

Too lost in his own feelings and grief to pay attention to what was happening before his very eyes.

And then brings on the guilt. The guilt of not supporting her the way she’s been supporting him, of not trusting her the way that she trusts him.

That’s something else he can’t not think about and focus on.

Trust.

Up until this point, he thought he’d “moved past” her suicide attempt. Thought whatever feelings that still lingered there were inconsequential. Though that is clearly not the case.

He still very much has not fully processed it, and it’s been prevalent in all the ways Solana pointed out.

He does hide her medication from her, hides all the pills in the house, and he doesn’t allow her to take herself to her own therapy and psychiatrist appointments. And to some extent, administering her pills came less from a place of what he was told by Stratus and more from a place of his comfort.

The same way counting her pills does.

And all of that very much does come from a place of trust. A lack of trust.

A lack of trusting her to not try to take her life again.

To not leave him.

Because that’s what it boils down to. His fear not just of losing her, but of her leaving him.

The same way his family did.

But, in a cruel twist of fate and potentially irony, as he sits in the car instead of being at the house with his wife trying to actually talk through these things, Roman realizes he does the same thing.

He leaves.

He left he when he was trying to figure out whether to tell her about Xavier being behind her rape and her mother’s murder.

He left when he accidentally hit her and couldn’t stand to be around her, to be reminded of the pain he’d inflicted on her even when she tried her damn hardest to help him not feel so guilty.

He tried to leave, in a sense, when he kept pushing her away in her attempts to help him process Fetu’s death.

And he’s left just now when the very thing he should have done is stayed.

Sure, in one of those examples, he left to receive clarity. To pick his aunt’s brain over what he should do, but in the rest, he left because he was avoiding things.

The same way he’s avoiding things now.

And it doesn’t work.

It never has, and it never will.

Beyond that, it’s messing with his marriage, forming cracks that will continue to grow until it all comes down, shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces.

Roman can’t have that.

He won’t.

Because as fucked up and confused as he feels right now, it won’t get better by sitting in this fucking car.

This can only be fixed by talking with and to the one person he keeps walking away from.

His wife.

Roman doesn’t hesitate to start the car back up and get right back on the route that took him to where he ran away to in the first place. The drive back to the house consists of him mentally going over what he wants to say, how he wants to say and what he wants to tackle.

And at the top of all that is an apology.

She deserves that and so much more.

But, the minute he steps into the house, the plan is shelved. Tossed to the back of the line, because he’s barely in the doorway when Dulce is moving her little self down the steps, whimpering along the way.

Roman frowns. “What’s wrong?”

She reaches the floor and runs up to him, hitting his legs, barking at him followed by more whimpering. And when she turns around to return up the steps, looking back at him as if to make sure she’s following him, he knows.

Knows that something is wrong.

“Solana.”

And just like that, Roman is following this little dog who is clearly hellbent on guiding him somewhere.

Or to someone.

On the second floor, Dulce is panting as she runs down the hall to the master bedroom, Roman right behind her as she rushes into the room and makes a right for the master bathroom where she stops.

Roman is standing in the doorway of the bathroom when he freezes, partially incapable of processing the scene before him.

“No….”

Solana is on her knees on the bathroom floor, hunched over, dressed in only her bra and underwear. She’s trembling, one hand on her stomach, the other hand planted on the natural stone flooring. Flooring that has bright red liquid glistening off of it, liquid that’s dripping down her inner thighs, a large splotch of red covering the crotch of her underwear.

She’s bleeding.

Dulce sits besides her, whimpering and attempting to lick her arm.

It’s only when the shock of the visuals wear off that he becomes tuned to the fact that she’s crying and hyperventilating, stammering, “I can’t—I can’t lose them.”

Them

The babies.

Roman takes a few steps back into the room to shout out the open door, “get the car ready!” He grabs a random jacket out of his closet and moves back over to the bathroom.

Placing the jacket to the side, he’s on the floor, by her side, “Solana—”

Gasping, she shakes her head, looking at him with puffy, teary eyes. She's a mess. “I’m—I’m s–sorry. I—”

“Shhhh,” he comforts her, pushing back some of her hair. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be alright, okay?”

She’s crying even harder as he moves to stand her up, but she’s shaking her head, clearly not thinking straight, as she seemingly protests. “I—I can’t—please—” She cries out in pain again, almost falling over, but he’s quick and has her in his arms. Solana’s head is against his shoulder as she grasps at his arm. Roman is uncaring of the blood on her palm that’s now on him.

It’s not important.

What’s important is getting her help.

And fast.

“Solana, listen to me, I’ve gotta get you to the hospital, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she cries into him, Roman suddenly having the hardest fucking time holding it together in a moment where he absolutely has to be the sound one here. “I’m sorry.”

Roman kisses her temple. “You’re gonna be fine.” One arm supporting her, the other reaches for the jacket to place it around her. Once she’s covered up well enough, he’s gentle and careful in the way he helps her stand only to quickly pick her up bridal style.

“Stay,” he directs the command to Dulce who lays on the bathroom floor with her ears down, still whimpering.

He’s carrying her out the room and down the steps to the SUV that’s already waiting for them. Bautista opens the back door, concern in his brown eyes as Roman instructs, “get in touch with the Bloodline OB. Have her meet us at the hospital.”’

There’s questions Roman didn’t get the chance to ask, questions such as the name of the doctor that Solana saw, but given that he does know she went to and received the referral from Michaels, there’s no doubt in his mind he sent her to the Bloodline’s OB.

He just hopes the woman can get there in time.

Roman doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything except his wife who clings to him, silently crying into his chest, continuing to murmur apologies and sayings in Spanish.

A prayer, it sounds like.

And for the first time in a long time, he closes his eyes and mentally does the same.

————

Solana is taken back immediately, largely because Roman demands as such, and one only needs an order barked at them once from the Tribal Chief to know he means business.

“Mrs. Reigns, can you tell us what’s going on?” Someone asks as he carefully lays Solana down on the medical bed, and the question instantly has him scowling.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious?” He snaps, cognizant of how Solana instantly reaches for his hand, holding it tightly.

“I’m—I’m cramping bad and—and bleeding,” she answers through her tears, Roman unaware why hearing her state as such hits him so hard. It’s not like he can’t see what’s going on, but there’s just something significantly worse about her actually saying it.

It makes it that much more real.

“When did this start?” Another nurse or maybe doctor, shit should he know, asks as they start rolling her back.

“Half–half an hour ago. I was going to take a shower when I first felt the cramps and then I saw that—that I was a bleeding—” She starts hyperventilating again, asking through infrequent breaths, “am I—am I having a miscarriage?”

Of all the things said and heard tonight, that…..that has to be the hardest of them all.

Roman doesn’t…..he can’t allow himself to imagine that could be what’s occurring, even if….if that’s what the signs point to.

An older nurse is the one to speak up, “let’s not go there just yet, okay, honey? Bleeding and cramping during a pregnancy doesn’t always mean a worst case scenario.”

The words are objectively reassuring but do little to abate the anxiety he’s masterfully hiding for a variety of reasons with the main one being he needs to maintain his composure for his wife’s sake.

Finally in the room, Roman watches closely as they work to change her into a hospital gown, hook her to an IV, and take her blood pressure, one of the nurses calling out, “140 over 90” followed by the older one advising, “Mrs. Reigns, your blood pressure is considered high for a pregnant woman. I know you’re scared and upset, but I need you to take some deep breaths for me, alright?”

And then someone has the fucking audacity to say to Roman, “would you like to wait for her in—”

Roman is briefly considering murder, on the verge of a vicious, verbal assault when Solana is the one to protest. Shaking her head, she squeezes his hand even tighter. “No! I need him!” Terrified gaze falling on him, she begs, “please—please don’t leave me.”

Moving his free hand to her forehead, he vows, “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He’s partially relieved to see her relieved by this. Roman lifts his now hardened gaze to the staff, “where the fuck is her doctor?”

Because he’s almost certain, if the doctor who Solana saw earlier that day was present, his wife would have had a reaction of some sort. Or, at least the doctor would have addressed her differently.

And none of that has happened, so Roman is livid.

A brave—or stupid—nurse speaks up, “Dr. Sharmell is coming. She was in the middle of a del—”

“Do you think I give a fuck about that?” His voice is filled with disgust that matches the disdain written all over his face. “I want her here now.”

Another nervous clearing of a voice. “Sir, there is another OB on staff, Dr. Miz, but your wife’s chart says no men on her care team, unless—”

“No,” Roman shoots that down instantly.

To be fair, if this was any other type of medical emergency, Roman might agree, might work to help Solana understand this is a necessity. And it’s not that they’re not currently in the midst of a medical emergency, because they clearly are. But, he knows his wife. She’s already freaking out, her blood pressure raised which is exacerbating the situation, and having a man evaluate her in that manner is only bound to make things significantly worse.

“Solana.”

A new voice enters the conversation, a middle aged black woman walking in, the group almost naturally clearing a path as she walks over to the bed. “It’s Dr. Sharmell.”

And the reaction Roman was anticipating finally occurs, Solana turning to her and crying again. “Something’s wrong with the babies.”

It’s this, this heartbreaking statement that confirms what Roman thought he saw in her sonogram photo but wasn’t entirely sure. What he heard Solana say just earlier.

Two.

There’s two babies.

She’s pregnant with twins.

This….this just got infinitely worse.

“That’s what I’m here to see about,” this doctor says in a calming voice, glancing at the machines that his wife is plugged up to. “Her BP is too high. Give her 5mg of diazepam and 400mg of acetaminophen for the pain.”

“Sweetie, I need you to listen to me.” Dr. Sharmell’s voice is somehow the perfect combination of pressing and comforting. “I need to examine you, and I know you’re uncomfortable with a transvaginal ultrasound, but for me to get the best look, I need—”

“It’s okay,” Solana interrupts, shaking her head and squeezing his hand again. “Just—just do it.”

Dr. Sharmell doesn’t seem to question it, just nods and goes to pull a machine over as she moves to get started.

Roman doesn’t leave his wife’s side, thumb gently caressing her knuckles as he watches her close her eyes and lean her head back. Her discomfort is palpable and blaring, and it kills him to not be able to take away her pain.

It kills him to see her like this.

“What are you doing to her?” Because she’s already in pain, and if this woman is about to do anything to make that shit worse, he’s about to cause a ruckus.

The doctor continues to prepare for whatever she’s about to do while explaining said procedure. “It’s an ultrasound done through the vaginal canal.”

It’s that explanation along with seeing the probe Dr. Sharmell is holding that helps Roman understand why Solana was uncomfortable with this.

He moves his hand back to her forehead, murmuring, “it’s okay.”

It’s not, but he doesn’t know what else to do. How else to make the ‘best’ of this nightmare of a situation. He’s observant of the moment Solana is “penetrated,” seeing the small wince on her face and the way she tenses.

Fuck. He hates this.

Hates it with everything in him.

“There it is….” Dr. Sharmell speaks to herself, looking over at the screen.

Roman immediately asks, “what’s wrong?”

The word ‘wrong’ is clearly not the best choice because Solana is sniffling again, asking that devastating question, “am—am I having a mis–miscarriage?”

The answer comes relatively quickly but feels like it’s taken an eternity to arrive. “No, Solana, you’re not having a miscarriage.”

Roman’s eyes shut as he takes in the powerful and borderline overwhelming relief he feels at hearing those words. At hearing that this isn’t that. In a situation that’s arguably one of the worst he’s been in, that response is one of the best he’s ever received.

“What you are having is what we call a Subchorionic Hemorrhage. It means there’s blood forming between your babies’ amniotic sac and the uterine wall, which is why you’re bleeding. Cramping isn’t as common of a symptom, but it can happen. This obviously isn’t anything any pregnant woman would want to experience, but it happens more than people realize. And listen—” She gestures to the monitor, both Roman and Solana focusing on the screen and the sound.

A rhythmic beating.

Roman is the first to speak. “Is that….”

Dr. Sharmell nods. “That’s the sound of your babies’ heartbeats. Strong as ever.”

And it’s that last sentence that seems to provide Solana an abundance of relief, as she takes a deep, shaky breath covering her mouth to conceal a sob that comes from a place of joy versus despair.

Roman has so much to take in in this moment.

She’s not miscarrying.

She’s pregnant with twins.

Twins whose heartbeats he’s currently listening to.

It’s all so….strange and unbelievable and stirring up a new cocktail of emotions he manages to push back. For now….at least.

Because pushing shit back, avoiding shit….it’s partially why they’re here right now.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “so how do we fix it?”

Shaking her head, she removes the probe, a nurse taking it from her while she takes off her gloves. “Unfortunately, there is no cure, but these things usually go away on their own. Typically in a matter of weeks. What we do recommend is bedrest, pelvic rest specifically, so no sex, no heavy lifting. Lots of fluids, and I’ve already scheduled your wife for appointments every two weeks given it’s a multiples pregnancies, so I’ll already be monitoring her closely.”

It makes sense, but it’s also not the type of answer he was hoping for. Nevertheless, it’s a much better outcome than the grim alternative.

She moves to the side of the bed, speaking directly to Solana, “now you might start bleeding again, though judging by the size of the hematoma, I wouldn’t anticipate as much as you’ve experienced this time. Just treat it like you would a menstrual cycle, pads only, no tampons, and make sure to call me and let me know if it’s happening again, alright?” Solana nods, a sudden quietness about her that Roman would guess is one of the medications she was given kicking in. “I’m gonna keep you here overnight for observation, but I have no doubt you’ll be ready to be discharged come morning."

“Thank you,” Solana whispers, voice laden with appreciation and comfort. “Thank you so much.”

Roman looks at his wife, informing, “I’ll be right back, okay?” He waits for her to nod, to show confirmation before he looks over at the doctor and gestures to the door.

Dr. Sharmell gives a small nod and makes a few comments to the remaining nurses before heading in that direction.

It’s once they’re outside the room, Roman crosses his arms, asking in a low, pained voice, “can stress cause this?”

It’s a question he’s been sitting on since finding his wife, crying and bleeding on the bathroom floor. His knowledge base is large and broad, but medical shit is where it’s relatively limited. Not limited enough to not know stress can cause pregnancy complications.

And Solana has had no shortage of that the past few weeks, this evening specifically.

Because of him.

But, he’s taken a bit by surprise when she answers with a simple, “no.” She mimics his stance, also crossing her arms while explaining, “but we’re also still not sure specifically what causes them. There are some guesses that a history of miscarriages, high blood pressure, and early onset of preeclampsia are precursors but nothing we can prove.” Dr. Sharmell lowers her voice, clearly wanting this conversation to remain between the two of them. “I did notice in her medical records an extensive amount of hospital visits for accidents indicating severe physical abuse when your wife was younger, and she also disclosed childhood sexual assault.”

Roman straightens his posture, voice even. “Yes.” Nothing more. Nothing less.

The older woman sighs. “There’s a possibility that your wife has some form of uterine trauma from her prolonged abuse and/or the sexual assault that could have contributed, but it’s nothing I can confirm medically.”

There’s slight relief at knowing that…..that he didn’t play a role in what happened is helpful, sure, but hearing that all of the other horrific things done to his wife may be the cause is the opposite of helpful.

It just pisses him the fuck off.

Fist forming at his side, Roman has to remind himself where he is. Hearing about Solana’s abuse never fails to put him in a position where his minimal resolve is always tested. Unbridled rage with nowhere to go except inward.

“She’s going to be okay though, right?” Focusing on the most important topic at hand, he asks in an even quieter voice, “the babies….they’re going to be alright?”

Her smile is amenable. “They’re gonna be fine.”

Roman won’t outwardly express and show how comforting her words are, because a part of him was wondering if she was just saying what she knew Solana needed to hear to calm her down. But, away from his wife’s sight and auditory range, hearing the same positive prediction is beyond reassuring.

Nodding to himself, Roman finds himself uttering, “thank you.”

Words few are privy to hearing from the Mafia head but deserved giving what she’s done and what she’ll continue to do for his wife.

And his children.

She maintains her smile. “Of course.” Stepping back, she informs, “I’ll check back on her in a little bit.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just watches her move down the hall. Blowing out a deep breath, he runs his hands through his hair and closes his eyes.

Heavy footsteps precede a deep voice asking, “is everything alright, sir?” Roman is leaning against the wall, next to the door where he overhears the nurses asking Solana questions about her comfort. Bautista stands before him, still looking slightly concerned. “With….Mrs. Reigns and…..?”

There seems to be some sense of duty and loyalty to Solana in the man, traits that Roman didn’t quite recognize until just now. It’s appreciated and why he answers honestly.

“She’s going to be fine,” Roman mutters. “They all are.” Bautista’s expression shifts to something akin to shock. “It’s…..it’s twins.”

Breaking the news of not only a pregnancy but a pregnancy involving twins to his wife’s bodyguard is just another twist in this story that he could have never anticipated. And yet, here he is.

But, it’s also something that would be stupid for Roman to try to hide. He knows the guard isn’t stupid. Calling for an OB-GYN in the middle of the night, rushing her to the ER, it all points to the obvious.

“I need you to go to the house,” Roman changes subjects, not willing to disclose anything more. “Check on Dulce.”

Because as traumatic this has been for him and Solana, their puppy finding her "mom" in a dire state yet again has to be difficult for her too.

“Of course,” Bautista nods, moving to walk away when he stops, turning to Roman to simply say, “Congratulations, Sir.”

Roman offers no visible response.

Ignoring the small trace of pride at such an acknowledgment.

————

By the time Roman re-entered the room and the rest of the staff dispersed, Solana was already falling asleep, something he did nothing to interfere with. A necessity. It’s been a long ass day.

For them both.

But especially her.

For obvious reasons.

Pulling the chair to the side of the bed, Roman doesn’t use the time to get in some much needed sleep of his own. He’s far too wired for that. Besides, he needs to be up and awake in case she awakes and needs something.

He spends time making adjustments, sending off texts and emails to the appropriate parties. Though the main ones are sent to Paul, Roman informing his Wise Man that he’ll be working from home the next couple days. Maybe a pop in at Bloodline HQ here and there, but nothing consistent like usual.

Roman needs to be home with his wife.

His pregnant wife.

There’s still something so strange about that, something that feels a bit unreal to be true. But, it is. He saw the sonogram, heard the confirmation, heard their heartbeats.

This is real and happening.

Roman’s hand reaches and settles on Solana’s stomach as she continues to sleep, a peaceful expression on her pretty face. Emotions start to stir once more as he takes in the fact that she’s with not just one child but two. Two children that they created.

His children.

He’s never really given fatherhood much thought, maybe some deeper level of consideration from time to time but never to the point where it could become an actuality.

Sure, he knew he’d eventually have a kid, but not even a year ago, he’d imagined it under very different circumstances. A marriage that simply allowed him to create an heir with a woman who would understand that there would never be any significance or sincerity behind their union. Truly, in every sense of the word, an arrangement. One where he has his on the side, she could have hers, and they’d come together when necessary for the sake of offspring.

That’s exactly what he thought it would be.

It couldn’t be farther from that.

Because Solana is every good, redeemable part of him that exists. There is no life that could exist for him without her in it.

She is his better half in every sense of the word.

She completes him in a way he didn’t know he needed to be completed.

And now….now she’s carrying his babies.

Their babies.

Because he wants them to have every bit of goodness that fills her and none of his darkness that weighs him. It’s truly his hope and prayer that they take every bit from her and very little from him.

It’s just better that way.

It’s a few hours into their admission and Solana’s sleep that she begins to stir. Roman easily sits up in the chair and pockets his phone as her eyes blink open.

She whines quietly, a small smile setting on her sleepy face as she focuses on him. “You’re still here….”

“Of course, I’m here.” There’s not a single place in this world he’d rather be than sitting here beside her. “I told you I wasn’t leaving.” And he meant it. Moving his hand from her stomach to atop hers, he asks, “how you feeling?”

“Better.” She looks and sounds it, too. He finds immense solace in that. Eyes squinting, she asks, “what time is it?”

A quick glance at the Hublot watch on his wrist. “Quarter to five.”

And just like that, her smile shifts into a bit of a frown. “You’ve been up this whole time?”

Knowing where she’s going, he moves to assure her. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.” There’s a teasing note to her single word response, the smallest smirk on her full lips.

Chuckling, he quiets down, his own mouth shifting into a frown. “Solana….”

“We were both wrong,” she interrupts. Roman doesn’t try to hide his surprise at her jumping right into what he planned to ease into, borderline tap dance around to take accountability but not bombard her with a conversation that’s better served when they’re home and not in a hospital. “I shouldn’t have kept the letter or my pregnancy from you, and you’ve been wrong for keeping things from me.”

“Yes.” Because there’s no disagreement to that simplified assessment of the issue from earlier. “But, Sol, we don’t need to discuss this right now….”

“Yes, we do.” Once again, she has him taken back by her borderline assertiveness in this moment. “We….we push things off because we think we’re protecting each other, but….but we’re not. We….we only make things worse.”

She won’t find any disagreement from him. “You’re right.” He closes his eyes, admitting, “you were right. About everything.”

Roman still believes this isn’t the time or place to be having this conversation, but he also recognizes ideal circumstances have escaped them almost entirely the past few weeks. If not longer.

It’s time to stop pushing things off.

“Solana, I met with Gail virtually while I was in Italy, because hitting you really fucked with my head, and I thought….I’d convinced myself that you being with me was dangerous. That you’d…..you’d be better off if we weren’t together.”

And if he hadn’t realized before that was probably one of the worse ideas he’s ever had in his fucking life, Solana’s devastated expression is all the confirmation and more that he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Her voice is heavy as she starts to ask, “how you ever think—”

“I wasn’t in a good place.” He knew it then but can only openly acknowledge it now. And in some ways, he still isn’t. “I asked her to work with you on not being so attached to me, so that a divorce wouldn't be as hard on you, and she asked me something in return that I didn’t know how to answer.” Roman can still vividly recall and hear the sound of her voice, understanding but challenging. “She asked me how I planned to not be as attached to you, and it made me realize that I really do need you, Solana.”

“I told you before the only thing I fear in this life is losing you, but I think….I think it goes deeper than that.” He looks away, partially uncomfortable with this conversation, with having to acknowledge things he’s pushed away for so long. “I think….I think that there’s a lot of things I’ve avoided over the years, but I can’t….I can’t avoid them anymore.”

Not when he doesn’t have Fetu to go to anymore. And, he can’t put this on his wife.

“I—I started therapy, and I don’t hate it, but I don’t like it either. But, I know….I’ve realized that I need to do it for you, for us, but mainly for myself.” Because as much or maybe even as well as suppressing and repressing shit has “worked” for him over the years, it’s not sustainable, and he can see the strain it’s causing in his marriage.

Roman can’t have that shit.

He’ll do anything to make this work.

To not lose his wife.

A glance at Solana reveals her small smile. “It’s not easy.” Roman won’t disagree. He hasn’t even started talking about actual shit, but even bringing himself to attend that first appointment was difficult. Her hand tightens around his. “I’m proud of you, Ro.” Roman can’t remember the last time commendation affected him as deeply as her kind words do. Solana smiles wryly, “I’m gonna have to make you a therapy journal.”

He can’t help the scowl on his face. “I’m not doing that.”

Her light giggle lifts his spirits and warms his soul before she softly murmurs, “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

He swallows. “Solana—”

“I hurt you by not telling you. About the letter and the pregnancy. I see that, and I’m sorry. Regardless of my intentions, it was….it was wrong to keep you in the dark.” Her apology is appreciated and while a part of him wants to tell her she doesn’t need to do so, a larger part of him appreciates hearing as such. Appreciates having his feelings validated.

It’s….different.

“I don’t wanna tell anybody about the pregnancy. Not….not yet.” Roman wants to ask why, not in disagreement per se, but curious about her thought process. If it’s based off what happened this evening. “I just want to keep it between us. At least until I start showing.” She lifts her hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “I wanna just focus on me, you and the babies, okay?”

He nods against her, more than okay with this arrangement, because it’s similar to what he was going to tell her. Her pregnancy is on a need to know basis moving forward, her security is getting increased, and her training is on pause until further notice.

He’s not taking any chances whatsoever moving forward.

“There’s….there’s more I need to tell you.” His gaze is focused on her as she breaks eye contact, focusing on her stomach instead. “I—I found an old letter my mom wrote me, and….there’s a lot to unpack there but….that needs to wait until we get home, because I want to let you read it yourself.”

“Solana, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she interrupts, softly. “Plus it’s…..it’s a lot to explain, and I think it’d be better if you just saw it for yourself.”

He nods. Roman was already planning to share the contents of Fetu’s letter with his wife, so her offering to let him read her own “message from beyond” just affirms that decision. Affirms that they both are trying to do better.

“Roman…..” She’s looking back at him, eyes watering. “I need you to know that I don’t want to hurt myself anymore. I could never do that to you.” She moves her hand to her stomach. “I could never do that to them.” His eyes close as he takes in her sentimental, vulnerable disclosure. “I want to be a mom. I want to be with you. I want to live, and I know that my attempt is something that may take longer for you to process, but I just….I just need you to know that.”

And on some level, he does. He knows that Solana has shown no indication whatsoever of falling back into that dark headspace. As she pointed out earlier, she’s put in so much work and continues to do so. She’s done everything right since then.

It’s just that what if that he can’t seem to pull away from.

“I know,” he finally responds, opening his eyes and reaching to wipe away her tears. “I’m gonna work on it, alright?”

He will.

He has to.

She nods. “Thank you.”

She sounds immensely appreciative and hopeful, the same type of feelings gradually starting to fill within him. They’re gonna figure this shit out.

One way or another.

Roman drops his hand and gaze from her face, moving it to her stomach. He swallows, murmuring, “twins….”

Moving her hand on top of his, she echoes, “twins…..” Roman chuckles to himself. Their first pregnancy would be twins. “Dr. Sharmell ran a blood test that will check for any chromosomal disorders, but it will also…..it’s gonna tell us the sexes.”

His eyes lift back to her. “Already?”

Her small smile is back. “She said we should get the results in two weeks or so.” Roman doesn’t know a lot about pregnancy in general, but he was always under the impression that they wouldn’t know what they’re having until later on. A few more months, so to know he’ll know the sexes of their babies by the end of the month….it’s something.

“I’m really hoping at least one is a boy…..” Her voice shifting into something almost nervous makes him frown. Solana adds in a low voice, “I need to give you an heir…..”

Instantly, Roman is shaking his head. “You don’t need to do anything.” For the sake of openness, he opts to continue on the path of honesty with her. “Apparently the Elders have decided to put a timeline on things.” Roman has to contain his irritation at just the thought of them trying to put pressure on his wife. Trying to dictate his marriage. “Either we conceive by the end of the year, or they want us to divorce and they’ll pick a new wife for me.”

Solana’s eyes widen, anxiety ready to build. “Roman—”

“Whether you were already pregnant or not, over my dead fucking body would I ever let that happen.” His voice is pure steel, his determination indisputable. “I told you before. Nothing and no one can take you from me. I’d walk away from all this shit before I lose you.” Her face lights up in surprise, some of which is felt by even Roman at his admission. It’s not a lie though.

He’d rather step down as Tribal Chief and Capo before losing her.

Solana is everything to him.

And more.

Her voice is bristled with nervousness. “You have to tell them about the pregnancy then.”

“No,” he answers, shaking his head. “They don’t run this shit. I do. I’ll tell them when I want to.” I.e. not until the end of the year. He’ll allow them to do their plotting and planning behind the scenes, let them believe that they’ll have ‘won’ this. And only then will he tell them about the babies.

Until then, they can fuck off.

She seems unconvinced and still worried. “I just don’t want you to have to deal with unnecessary problems….”

Roman’s life is filled with as such, many of them he has to tackle and deal with on a daily basis. This is most definitely not one of them. “It’s not a problem. Trust me.”

His simple sentence of reassurance seems to chip away some of her anxiety as she asks, “can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, Sol.”

Always could.

Always will.

Roman is happy to see her smile return. “I’ve been having….dreams the past couple months.”

Utterly curious and focused, he presses, “about?”

A brief hesitation followed up with an emotional, “us as parents.” Roman tenses, doing his best to maintain a neutral expression. “We have….we have twins in the dreams. Twin girls. Li—”

“Lina and Leya,” he finishes for her in a quiet voice. Roman is very much cognizant of the floored look on Solana’s face.

She’s just as taken back by his knowing as he is about what this means. “How—how did you know that?”

A simple question with a layered answer that takes a minute for Roman to supply. Scoffing with disbelief, he responds calmly, “because I think we’ve been having the same dreams.”

Solana continues to be filled with shock as she moves around on the bed, turning on her side, shifting their still conjoined hands. “Wh—what?”

He closes his eyes, partially unsure of what to make of this. Of what it could mean, some deeper, higher power that’s just furthered and deepened the connection between himself and his wife. “I started having the dreams when we were in Mexico, and I’ve had them intermittently since then.” Swallowing, he shares, recalling from said dreams. “Leya is…..she’s like you. Quiet. Soft. A big heart.”

“And Lina is like you,” Solana adds, watery eyes reappearing from the emotionality of it all. “Protective. Outspoken. Also a big heart.” Her smile deepens as she wonders aloud, “do you think….do you think that’s what we’re having….them?”

Roman sits on her question for a good minute. “I think it’s the only thing that makes sense.” Because with all his intelligence and knowledge, Roman can’t for the life of him think of any reason why he and his wife would have shared dreams of the same future.

A future that seems to be playing out before them.

Solana chuckles, sharing, “you know those are nicknames, right? Lina and Leya?” He nods. Up until this point, Roman hasn’t had a dream that included the full first names, but based on the look on Solana’s face, he’d bet she has. “They’re short for Catalina and Cataleya.”

Catalina

Cataleya

That emotion is climbing again, the awe and wonder of the shifting of fantasy to reality stirring up all sorts of feelings.

“That’s what we’ll name them then,” he finally announces, moving his hand around her stomach. “Catalina and Cataleya.”

And the emotion he feels in said emotion is written all over his wife’s face as she asks, almost nervously, “so….so you’d be okay if….if they were both girls?” A part of him hates that she even has to ask that, that there’s any part of her that may wonder if he’d somehow be upset with the babies being girls versus at least one being a boy.

“Of course.” Because while there’s still a part of him that is nervous, unsure of what this new role of fatherhood will entail and look like for him, one thing is for certain. He’ll love, care, and protect them just the same as he loves, cares for and protects their mother.

Solana is visibly relieved and comforted by his confirming answer. “And if they are girls—”

“They are,” he supplies. He’d almost bet his life on that. Too many coincidences for them to not be.

Solana grins. “Then we’ll try for a boy as soon as we can.”

“Solana, we don’t—”

“Yes, we do,” she sighs, sharing so calmly. “I want more kids with you. As many as we can have.”

On top of the fact that the first set haven’t even been born yet, it's the as many for Roman that has him straightening up in the chair. “Baby, you know I’m almost 40, right?” She rolls her pretty eyes, forcing him to straight up ask, “how many kids you trying to have?”

Solana shrugs as best she can from laying on her side. “The girls will have each other. We’ll still need a son, and he’ll need a sibling too around his age—”

Roman’s eyes widen a bit as he points out, “Solana, that’s four kids you talking about.”

He loves this girl with everything in him, but four children?

He briefly recalls one of his dreams, a dream in which she disclosed her third pregnancy, a pregnancy that included another set of twins following the three children they already had.

Roman shakes his head, not even allowing himself to share that dream with her.

Nor will he even allow himself to consider if she had the same dream.

All them damn kids…..

He’d never know another day of peace again.

And yet…..

A small, minimal part of him wonders. Wonders what it might be like to have a big family of his own, to have several children, the perfect physical combination of himself and Solana. For their large home to be filled with laughter and happiness they were both deprived of.

A chance to give said children the childhood they never had.

Solana’s smile deepens as she bites down on her bottom lip. “I know.” The almost playful smile shifts into something serious and poignant. “Roman, you lost your family as a child. So did I.” Solana swallows, shaking her head. “We can’t get back what we lost, but we can….we can start our own. We have.” Voice dripping with determination and conviction, she vows, “and no one is going to take that from us this time.”

Up until this point, Roman hadn’t considered that. Not in that specific way. They’ve both lost so much over the years, experienced immense loss and trauma. Having and starting a family of their own could be…it could be a fresh start.

A new beginning.

“I love you.” In every sense of the word, with a depth that rivals the ocean and duty that defies logic.

Solana doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the words he’ll never get tired of hearing from her. “I love you, too.”

Roman still has so many doubts, so many insecurities, things he’s unsure of. He doesn’t know the first thing about fatherhood. Doesn’t have that nurturing, loving instinct that Solana has. Her ability to comfort and love so naturally.

He’s….he’s going to need her help with this, and he’s not afraid to acknowledge as such.

What he does know is that he’ll do whatever it takes to figure it out, to be the best husband, the best father he can be.

For himself.

For Solana.

For Fetu.

For his daughters.

Cataleya and Catalina Reigns.

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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lilia-calderus-pet-goat · 2 days ago

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Headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 6, Lilia's history edition:

(previous part of headcanons, here.)

Lilia wasn't born into sicilian aristocracy. She was born in the carpathian mountains. Her parents were romani, victims of persecution, and so she was orphaned & taken in by her maestra.

As a little girl, Lilia was insanely self-conscious, shy and withdrawn.

She used to have a pet goat. Hence my username. Now, she's upset that it's become some sort of satanic-associated stereotype that witches talk to goats.

When she started showing signs of her forgetfulness, her visions, her flashes—people will have treated her as 'defective' and 'faulty.' One of those kids that just 'isn't very bright.'

She hated the texture of those darn dresses. Her Maestra eventually noticed her discomfort and passed down the shirt and coat we see her wear on the road—since the costume designer said they were indeed passed down to her.

Her maestra taught her how to sew, knit—and a great deal of sicilian, Italian and greek recipes. Her maestra enjoyed cooking, and she enjoyed drinking tea.

Her maestra also taught her a little pan flute. It was many years kater that she studied the zills by herself. She had a lot of free time as a hermit, okay?

She'd get easily distracted, she wouldn't pay attention when others spoke. She'd struggle with eye-contact. Her voice would trail off. Once in a while, she'd get really excited about something and go on a long rant, until breathless—which would be met with judgement. She'd space out and others would laugh at her.

But despite the fact she was considered strange, even by her sister witches—her covenmates did love her. Like you live siblings even as you tease them—and she was one of the youngest, if not the youngest.

The maestra was undoubtedly a strict, no-nonsense woman. But she was also the first, perhaps the only person, who sat down to understand Lilia's unique condition. Whenever she'd catch her 'visiting,' which was often, she would focus on guiding & keeping her calm.

She was desperate to toughen Lilia up, seeing how afraid and insecure she was. The maestra worried for her and didn't want her to end uo helpless. So, she taught her everything she knows—like a mother—even if everyone else thought she was wasting time, since Lilia struggled a lot initially. (“tea-leaves, i was bad at tea-leaves...”)

Lilia's Maestra had known about the fever that will wipe out their coven since before little Lilia hot the vision—since on their first lesson, 450 year old Lilia time-slipping from the Witch's Road told her. Despite this, the maestra didn't tell Lilia, because having seen how dark and sad her future is, she wanted her to feel safe and happy for a little while longer.

The first time Lilia met Jen (and afterwards, the rest of them) was exactly then. As adult Lilia was talking to her maestra, little Lilia was in the tunnels, experiencing her life out of sequence as she always had. She simply couldn't remember the flashes of her future coven or make sense of anything.

Lilia tried to warn everyone of the fever despite the fact it was set in stone, because of her own denial. None of her covenmates believed her—'Looney Lilia is at it again'—but her maestra, who already knew it would happen, simply repeated that death comes for us all.

Lilia would see Rio all the time in her full-skull form when she was young, in flashes. Rio's been following her! She thinks they're besties! Lilia is scared shitless!

Lilia's first girlfriend was one of the Doñas de fuera. In the historical folklore of Sicily, Doñas de fuera (Spanish for "Ladies from the Outside"; Sicily was under Spanish rule at the time) were supernatural female beings comparable to the fairies of English folklore. In the 16th to mid-17th centuries, the doñas de fuera also played a role in the witch trials in Sicily. In historical Sicilian folklore, the doñas de fuera} would make contact with humans, mostly women deemed to have “sweet blood”, whom they took to Benevento ("the Blockula of Sicily"), by mounting them on magical, flying goats.

Compared to surrounding countries, the witch trials in Sicily were relatively mild: in most cases, the accused were either freed, sentenced to exile, or jailed, rather than sentenced to death.

In Lilia's case, after the death of her coven, when she was left alone, she was eventually put to trial and exiled from Sicily.

She traveled from medieval village to medieval village across Europe, chased with pitchforks each time. She thought every tragedy was her fault.

She was in Strasbourg, France, to witness the Dancing Plague. She tried to warn everyone, but they called her crazy.

Another old friend of Lilia's, while in France, was Carabosse, based on whom the wicked fairy/Maleficent was created. Lilia watched once more as she turned into a racist caricature after her death. MANY years later, she went and watched Tchaikovsky sleeping beauty ballet—and then proceeded to go and punch him also.

Heinrich Kramer tried to hit on her. If you don't know, he was a German churchman and inquisitor. With his widely distributed book Malleus Maleficarum, which describes witchcraft and endorses detailed processes for the extermination of witches, he was instrumental in establishing the period of witch trials in the early modern period. Professor Malcolm Gaskill has described Kramer as a "superstitious psychopath."

And Lilia, in fact, was good friends (potential fling??) with Helena Scheuberin, an Austrian woman who stood trial accused of witchcraft just because she herself had rejected Henrich Kramer's advances. During the trial, thirteen other people were accused. Lilia was one of them. Luckily, the trial was dismissed.

She stayed in Germany for a while, to live with her good friend (perhaps even girlfriend.) Aka, the witch from Hansel & Gretel. She watched her, later, be put to death in her own over—persecuted for witchcraft. And then, she watched again as her tale was combined with other medieval stereotypes and bastardized into an antisemitic stereotype that painted her as a cannibalist, child-stealing villain. Lilia hates it. She says it's a tale that celebrates the order of the patriarchal home, seen as a haven protected from the dangerous characters that threaten the lives of children outside, while it systematically denigrates the adult female characters, which are seemingly intertwined between each other.

She met Evanora Harkness when she was pregnant and deeply disliked her.

While in Germany, she was subjected to yet another witch trial. She survived, hasn't talked about how, but she has scars from it that she will not show. (Würzburg witch trials. The Würzburg witch trials of 1625–1631, which took place in the self-governing Catholic Prince-Bishopric of Würzburg in the Holy Roman Empire in present-day Germany, formed one of the biggest mass trials and mass executions ever seen in Europe, and one of the largest witch trials in history.)

After Germany, she went to England to escape that mess of trauma. And so she witnessed the Great Plague of London, lasting from 1665 to 1666, was the most recent major epidemic of the bubonic plague to occur in England.

She lived in Styria for quite a few years, where she dated Carmilla, from the lesbian vampire novel. Eventually, they broke up. Lilia had been empathetic at first, but grew tired of being fed off of and punched her.

Out of spite, she spent a decade or two in Transylvania, helping other vampires escape vampire hunting trials. She witnessed a lot of friends be killed.

She lived in Greece for a few years after the Greek War of Independence. Later spent time in Asia Minor, until she had enough of Greek and Turkish witches arguing about who coffee reading belongs to.

She became an opera singer in spain, for a while. One of the many jobs she took over the years. It's when she met Tchaikovsky, in a trip to russia, as mentioned earlier, and bitch-slapped that twink into oblivion.

While in russia, she also met Alexandra Kollontai.

She met Rosa Luxemburg during the First World War. She also met Clara Zetkin.

She went to Argentina for a few years, met Virginia Bolten.

So, America it is... She wasn't happy about it. She went to Massachusetts, like a moth to the flame. Not Salem, no—Boston.

She was friends with Sylvia Plath. Maybe they even kissed a little!! Lilia tried to help her, but couldn't.

Her mental health was so terrible that she couldn't hold jobs for too long. She worked as a seamstress, as a stenographer, a governess, a maid.

She got married to a gay man, one time, for a few years, because people grew suspicious. He died.

She decided she deserved to be alone, because she was a bad omen. A jinx, a habringer of doom. She chose the life of the hermit.

She was at the Women’s Suffrage Parade in 1913 in Washington, D.C.

During the roaring 20's she became a jazz singer. She wasn't able to continue, because she was getting some really bad mental health episodes.

She had to sell a lot of her old sicilian jewellery and good dresses for money after the economy crashed on 1929. The Great depression made her... Greatly depressed.

She was unable to keep paying for a house and started traveling with a caravan. If she'd stayed in Boston at that time, perhaps she could have met Jen. She didn't.

She was attacked & robbed three separate times while in said caravan.

Obviously she's a polyglot, familiar with the language of every country she's lived in. But even as she forgets words and confuses details between languages, she never forgets anything about her native tongue. She hasn't been in Italy for centuries, but all her notes & personal writings are in Sicilian. She really misses speaking it and she feels like she can never truly, genuinely express herself in English.

Before whichever war, due to all the death she was predicting, she'd scream and cry like a banshee. It's one of the reasons she repressed her magic, put it away, ignored it.

She was in The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom on 1963.

She was in the stonewall riots in 1969. She made some friends again, non witch folk.

She was also in Woodstock, again, in 1969.

She did activism during the AIDS crisis. She lost the friends she made.

At one point she got bored and got a history degree.

At another point she got bored and got a philosophy degree.

She's taught in schools, once or twice, but was deemed unfit after a few years even though the students loved her.

She moved to New Jersey, opened Madame Calderu's Psychic Readings and Lilia's Leggings, but the money from that is still not enough. I mean, her house is decomposing, her bed is her wall, and her food is scarce enough that she doesn't mind a lapsed expiration date. Girl is dirt poor.

She does a lot of children's parties. She often hates the parents, though.

She has very few clients on the daily, but one of her regulars (in both businesses) is Madisynn King from She-Hulk.

#agatha all along #agatha all along headcanons #lilia's leggings #lilia calderu #patti lupone #agatha harkness #rio vidal #jennifer kale #agathario #billy maximoff #alice wu gulliver #agatha x rio

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darlingshane · 13 hours ago

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lavender haze

Julian Kaye x F!Reader

Summary: Julian needs to decompress and decides to take his friend's offer for a massage at one of her parlors.

CW: +18, explicit, sex work, reader is an escort, massage parlor, massage with happy ending, hand job, fingering, making out, cuddling.

Word Count: 4,7k

— Links: AO3 // Julian Masterlist

It used to be unthinkable to Julian to seek the kind of services he used to offer. He never thought he could relax enough to let someone else care for him the way he cared for his clients. But when push comes to shove, he has no other choice but to consider other options to get rid of all that tension that had been accumulating in his body.

Everything should've been easier once he was exonerated, but nothing is ever as simple. The second he was out of prison, the world seemed to turn on him once more. The past kept crawling back to ruining his life in ways he hadn't expected.

Now that messy chapter is closed, it's the perfect time for some self reflection and care before figuring out what to do with the rest of his life. And what better to clear his mind and gain some perspective than to take on his friend Diamond’s offer for a special treatment at her parlor with one of her best workers—you.

After careful consideration, he picks up the phone and sets up an appointment.

He never really thought of him as a rub and tug kind of guy, but he’s more than willing to try. Though as a client himself, he isn't sure of what he wants at the moment. All he knows is that he needs to decompress and relax.

In plain sight, between a clothing store and hair salon, sits Diamond's Den, his friend's place; one of the three different businesses she owns. This one in particular is her most recent venture that is reserved for a more upscale clientele. Unlike other illicit massage parlors, this one looks like a legit spa when he walks in—zen music, cucumber water, calming colors on the walls of the reception.

“Hi, how can I help you?” The lovely receptionist greets him when he approaches the desk.

“Hi, I'm Julian. I have an appointment at 5.”

She glances at the screen of her computer to confirm it in the schedule.

“Julian Kaye?”

“That's right.”

“Take a seat, please.” She gestures at the waiting area, two seats are already occupied by men in suits glued to their phones. “Someone will come get you in a moment. Do you want a drink? We have juice, coffee, tea, and water.”

He could use something stronger, to be honest, but he chooses for a cup of coffee to sooth the unexpected jitters in his stomach.

While he sips on his drink, he watches the receptionist make a call and a couple of minutes later, a different woman comes to fetch him, holding a folder in her arm.

“You're Diamond's friend, right?” She makes some small talk while she guides him down the hallway to one of the rooms.

“That's right.”

“Well, aren't you lucky?” She remarks with no sarcasm whatsoever as they come to a stop in front of door number nine.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that not many people get a Diamond discount right off the bat. She must really love you.” She produces a file from the folder she's holding. “Here's the girl she's picked for you, but if you want someone different, we have a couple of other people available. Men, women… whatever you're in the mood for.”

He opens the file to be greeted by a few pictures of you, all printed on one side of the sheet. From top to bottom, like a gradient, they go from you dressed in elegant clothes to lingerie to fully naked in the final row. According to your asking price, you're not just an escort, you're a high class escort, which is not something he's sure he can pay for at the moment.

“She's perfect,” he says timidly, without taking his stare from your picture. There's one in particular where you're laughing softly that catches his eye.

“But?”

“I can't afford this.”

“Julian, honey, I told you that you got a Diamond discount. That means you have an hour free of charge to do whatever you want. Then we’ll only charge extras if you go over that hour, okay? Didn't she tell you?”

He shakes his head. “No, she didn’t mention that.”

“Maybe she wanted to surprise you. How about we go inside, shall we?” She reaches for the handle and shows him into a deluxe room that carries the same colors of the reception and hallway. There’s a window covered by opaque blinds, the lighting is darker and warmer from the array of candles set up. There’s a bed neatly made up, a massage table in the middle of the room, a love seat under the window, a set of wooden cabinets with a tray holding a pitcher full of water and two glasses. On the side, there's a second door leading to an adjacent bathroom.

“Just sit and relax. We’ll take good care of you, hon. Okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles nervously as he hands the file back.

“Oh, there’s a form right there,” she points to a small table on the side of the couch. “Fill it out so she can have a picture of what you want, but you can always negotiate more later with her face to face.”

“Yeah, I know how it works.”

“Right. I’ll take this. Hot drinks are not allowed in the rooms.” She collects his almost emptied cup of coffee from his hand. “I'll send your girl right over.”

“Thanks.” Julian tucks his hands in the pockets of his blue slacks as she disappears, closing the door behind her.

He walks around the massage table twice, taking a good second look around the room before sitting on the love seat. From the side table, he picks up the clipboard and pen at hand. He reads every option and question on every page thoroughly. He starts with the questions that are meant to gather information about his health, STDs, allergies, etc., and others regarding his limits. Julian leaves that last one unanswered for now. Then, there's a list of standard massages that range from Swedish to Thai. He chooses the full body aromatherapy massage with a happy ending. After that, there's an extensive list of options, listed as extras, that are only available via tips. They go from something as mild as kissing to anal play to fantasies to very specific fetishes. It feels like picking toppings for a pizza, and he's not sure what he's in the mood to eat. But he ticks a few boxes–touching (the masseuse), kissing, nail raking, cuddling. He also gets to pick up the order. He puts massage first and cuddles at the end.

A soft knock on the door to announce your entrance pulls his stare away from the paper to see you entering the space with that same relaxed smile he saw on one of the pictures. You're wearing a satin, short robe in your favorite color that barely covers the top of your thighs, and a pair of stilettos that click on the wooden floor as you walk up to him. He's struck by your beauty as you get closer to him. The pictures really didn't show how stunning you look up close with minimal makeup.

“Hi, Julian, I'm—” you introduce yourself, offering one hand up. “How are you doing? Hope I didn't make you wait too long.”

He stands up and shakes your hand firmly. “I'm good, thanks. And you were right on time, I was just finishing with the form.”

“Oh, I'm glad.” You collect the clipboard to survey his choices. These are pretty tame compared to the filthy things you've done in this room, which is refreshing to see. You are hardly ever asked to cuddle a guy like Julian.

“Is there anything wrong, sweetheart?”

“No, everything's perfect, hon. You were pretty thorough.” You nod, quickly going over the form again, concocting a picture of what he wants in your mind. According to his answers, it looks like he just wants the girlfriend experience, and that’s what he’s going to get.

“Do you have any questions for me before we start?”

“Hm,” he pauses to think for a beat, tapping quickly the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger. “I was just wondering if you still get paid for this session even if I don't pay?”

It makes you smile to see how considerate he is. Diamond told you Julian was a dream of a guy with a big cock, but you thought she was overselling it. You stand corrected for now, you'll find out in a few minutes if she's right about his size as well.

“I am fully compensated. Don't worry about it. But to be fair, I wouldn't mind going pro bono for a guy like you.” You throw in a wink in his direction.

Flattered, he laughs softly, hanging his head down.

Once all the formalities are done, you ask him to go into the bathroom to freshen up and change, and that's what he does. There are a couple of hangers to hang his suit and shirt, and a robe and matching slippers for him to wear.

When Julian comes out of the bathroom, you've taken off your robe, and have set the lights to a dimmer shade. Your back is turned to him, and he can't help but admire your body hugged in a sexy lingerie set made of lace that leaves nothing to the imagination. It really highlights the beautiful shape of your body as you lean over the table, extending a clean towel on the surface. Then, you adjust the height of the table to the perfect reach for you to do your work before noticing he's come back into the room.

“Would you like some water?” you pick up the pitcher and fill up both glasses.

“Sure.”

You both take a good sip before getting right down to business.

As he faces the table, you stand behind him to take off his robe. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you undo the knot of the belt and gently peel it off him. He steps out of his slippers and lies on his front on the surface per your instructions. You miss an opportunity to get a peak of his front when you place his robe on the couch and produce a bottle of essential oils from the cabinet.

“Do you like lavender, honey?”

“Yeah, I like lavender.” He clears his throat as you watch him adjust his face in the hole at the head of the table.

“Would you like me to play some music?”

“No, I like it like this. I’d prefer to hear your voice.”

Smiling, you glance at the clock on the wall.

“Alright, your hour starts now.” you inform him, gently placing your palm on his shoulder. His skin is already warm at first touch, you can't help but let your fingers glide down his spine before pouring some oil into the mix. “If there’s any place you want me to focus, just tell me or direct my hand where you want, okay?”

“Okay.”

With practiced ease, you gently stroke his back with both your hands, spreading the oil across the breadth of his shoulders before kneading deeply his muscles that feel so firm but tense under your palms. You go down slowly from his upper back to the lower. You rake your nails here and there per his request. It’s no challenge for you to get the muscles in his back to slack gradually under your care.

Julian watches your feet as he looks down at the floor when you move to undo all the knots on his shoulders and arms. He finds himself grunting deep in his throat when you find a way to tame all that strain that nestling in his shoulders.

“Do you mind if I ask you to take off your shoes, sweetheart?” He mumbles under his breath in an attempt to bury one of those groans in his chest.

“You forgot to add foot fetish to your list?”

“No, nothing like that,” he scoffs. “I just want you to be comfortable, too.”

Aww.—You think as you free your feet from your high heels.

“You’re a big softy, you know that?”

“I try.” He smiles to himself as you change positions to go down his spine to take care of his lower back.

When you’re done with that area, you let your palms draw the curve of his firm ass. His skin is as smooth shaven as the rest of his body. You stroke his buttocks firmly before moving further down his legs. You can feel his body finally buzzing when you oil those terse muscles on the inside of his thighs. It’s known to be one of the most erogenous zones on the body that’s often overlooked, and almost every man who has laid on your table has had a similar reaction. Some might have even come in that position before feeling your hand around their dick, but you can tell Julian isn’t nearly there. You tuck your fingers higher up his groin and gently caress his balls that tighten up in your hold. You don’t go too strong yet, cause you don’t want him to promptly ejaculate like all those men that have no self-control whatsoever. There’s nothing that pleases you more than to make them enjoy themselves for as long as possible, but sometimes they don’t even give you the chance.

Leaning over his body, you pepper some kisses along his spine at the same time, getting his skin to rise into goose flesh at the touch of your warm breath.

“God, sweetheart, that feels amazing.”

You hum against his skin as your lips reach the back of his neck.

When you release his scrotum, you finish the rest of his legs to the end of his feet. It’s then that you take a quick glance at the time to make sure you don’t either rush it or prolong it too much before getting to do all the things that he wanted. It’s been twenty minutes so far, which is perfect, you can spend another twenty on his front and the remaining time to make him come, if he hasn’t yet, and to bathe him with cuddles.

Per your asking, he flips over on the table where you can finally take a good look at how well he’s packing on the front. His semi hard gives you a generous half-mast salute from the carefully manscaped landing of his pubic hair.

You don’t usually salivate at the sight of a client's body or dick for that matter. They’re all the same to you, a business transaction, but there’s something special about Julian that makes you swallow at the thought of putting him in your mouth. Containing yourself from doing so, you draw a breath and start at the head of the table. You focus on the array of tattoos he has all over his torso and shoulders to concentrate on the job and not whatever is tingling between your legs.

“Close your eyes, honey,” you whisper, hovering over his head as you start massaging his temples down his face and neck. Your fingers softly stimulate the muscles of his features, and they can tell he has a good skin routine. Though he has a set of pockmarks on one of his cheekbones, they’re definitely well cared for.

As you reach under his chin, you lean closer to place a kiss on the bridge of his nose that is followed by another one at the tip. You feel his face tightening as his mouth draws a smile.

“I’m going to kiss you on the mouth now, are you okay with that?”

He put kissing on the form, but you rather ask permission again before doing something that could make him uncomfortable.

Julian’s eyes blink open as he says softly, “sure, sweetheart, go ahead.”

With your face upside down, like in that old Spider-Man movie, you delicately plant your lips on his, pressing your nose to his chin. It’s not an easy maneuver to kiss in that position, but you manage to pull it off with his help. His mouth opens, and you gently nibble his bottom for a moment before sticking your tongue out. He hums deliciously against your mouth when the tip of your tongue finds his. Slowly playing, you feel a shiver course down your spine that seems to run between your legs at its own volition to awaken your own arousal. You have a good self-restraint, you'd say, but sometimes you can't help it. In your line of work, it's bound to happen.

Julian tastes delicious in your mouth. As your tongues swirl gently together, you send your hands down his chest to massage his torso at the same time. His pecs are beautifully molded like valleys under your palms. His abs are sculptured to near perfection. And the lines that draw a deep V on his lower abdomen are something surreal.

When you part, you glance down to see that he's fully hard now. Pleased with your work, you move to the other side of the table and massage the front of his legs. It greatly excites you to have him under your spell like that. You slather some more oil in your hands and watch him lose his mind as you yet touch every inch of his body without paying attention to his swollen erection. When you look at his face, you capture the deep shade of pink that has taken over his lips. His brown eyes glow under the candlelight in ten different shades of lust. And when you glance down at his center, his dick twitches against his abdomen as you stimulate that muscle again in his inner thigh.

Your bare feet move closer to the middle of the table, and lean your hip on the edge of the table.

“I'm gonna touch your dick now,” you tell him. His head urgently nods as he mumbles a ‘please’ under a shallow breath.

You place your hand on his stomach and smooth down his skin before curling your fingers around his hardness. Keeping your gaze locked with his, you watch him struggle to keep his breathing even. He's a damn sight better to see him squirming on the table when you start ever so slowly to pump his length. He fills your fist very generously. It feels like a task for two hands instead of one, but you keep that option for later.

You use the drops of his pre-cum emerging from his slit to up the pace just a little. He has to brace his hands to the edge of the table to keep his orgasm at bay now. It's easy to tell by the way he throbs against your palm.

Focusing on him only, you ignore the impeding arousal staining the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Fuck,” he grunts, extending a hand to grip at your thigh. “Get on top of me, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t have to ask you again. You climb onto the table and straddle his lap without taking your hand off him. You place yourself as close as possible to his center, so the first curled around his cock grazes your panties as it goes up and down his shaft.

Bracing one hand to his chest, you bounce and up and down on top of him, as if you were fucking him, upping the pace a little more.

Julian grips your hips hard, helping your moves.

“Take off your bra for me,” he orders, and once again you obey to his wishes, using your free hand to undo the clasp at the front so it can fall down your shoulders and uncover your tits.

One of his arms hooks around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He tilts his head so he can suck your nipple between his teeth. You're practically grinding almost directly against him now, you can feel both your fist and the end of his dick pressing against your pussy.

You love the way he grunts and moans around your tit as you take him closer to bliss. He’s so close to the edge, you can feel it in the way he thrust wildly in your hold.

“Come for me, baby,” you moan as his teeth press harder around your nipple. The sensation makes your core scream from the inside, and you wish you could have your own release. But this is not about you. It’s only about him, you remind yourself, but it's your own excitement that carries him over the edge with the powerful force of your adamant pumping. His whole body trembles like an earthquake between your legs. The vicious grip of his teeth dig deeper on your tit, making you moan. And his hands are promptly clutched to your skin the moment his orgasm erupts to the surface, forcing all his seed to come out in hot spurts all over your hand and his abdomen.

You lean your forehead against his, as you exhale the warm breathing of his panting as he comes down slowly from that high. Your clean fingers caress his hair while his body goes limp on your table.

Once he can finally move, you clean your hand in the towel below and help him stand up to have him lay on the bed so you can cuddle him properly. He buries his head in your chest while you wrap your arms around him and keep playing softly with the hair at his nape.

“Shit, I'm so sorry I bit you,” he says once he comes to his senses, pulling his head slightly back to study the mark he's left around your nipple.

“It's okay, hon. I liked that. You better than anybody know that sex can be unpredictable, you can't negotiate every little thing beforehand. And believe me, I would have stopped you if I wanted to.”

“I'm sure you would've.” Grinning softly, he uses the tip of his finger to ease the mark of his teeth. Then, his stare goes up to look at you as he says, “you're gorgeous, you know that?”

“C'mere.” Cupping his face in your palms, you pull it closer so you can capture his mouth. Slowly, you savor the bittersweet taste of coffee lingering on his tongue while his limbs tangle with yours. He tucks his leg between your thighs, and you can't stop tour hips from grinding against his taut quads.

Upon him noticing your eagerness to rub yourself against him, he moves one hand to hold your ass, pressing you harder on his leg.

“Do you want me to make you come, sweetheart?” He parts slightly to ask.

“You don't have to, Julian.”

“I wanna,” he purrs over your lips. “Would you let me?”

“Okay.”

“How would you like me to do it?”

“Surprise me.”

“Yeah?” the corner of his mouth draws a mischievous grin as his hand invites itself under the lace of your panties.

Your folds are practically soaked when his fingers stroke your lips. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours to watch your face change when two of his fingers slip smoothly inside you. They're dexterous and determined on giving you a release. Your hips slant when they press a little harder on your g-spot, coaxing your juices to drip out of you as his thumb finds your clit. An obscene moan escapes your mouth as he suddenly up the pace of his thumb, glued to your clit.

“That's it, sweetheart. Show me what you got,” he glances down to observe your body wildly squirming, aching for a release.

You clutch your hands to his sides as a bubbling fire surges from your core when your orgasm scratches the surface. Your legs clamp, trapping his hand that has stopped moving as you ride up the unexpected tide of ecstasy that courses through your body. You close your eyes for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of your release as you come down from your orgasm.

Julian kisses your face sweetly before seizing your mouth. It's now him who's snuggling you, keeping you anchored as you recover.

You find your hands laced together, fingers playing softly on their own, as if you had done that a million times before. It's a strange feeling you've never felt in this room before. It's overwhelmingly sweet and confusing. This is how you're supposed to make clients feel, not the other way around, but Julian is not just like any other client, he has the same skills as you do, and you figure he tapped into those by default.

Relaxing in each other's arms, you stay in comfortable silence for a while, letting the shared touches do the talk. He figures out one of your favorite spots to be touched is the back of your nape, his fingers slide into your hair, and you almost melt at the nice massage he provides.

At some point, you start asking him about the array of tattoos that adorn his body, and he tells you each story behind them. It prompts a longer conversation, talking about life and business, and by the time you look at the clock again, you've gone almost a second hour over his time.

You don't charge him the extras, it feels like you've both serviced each other somehow, but he tips you anyway.

It's been a few days since he went to the parlor, and Julian hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. Maybe it's years of lack of affection, but he can swear there was a spark between you and him that he can't explain. He longs night after night; unable to get rid of the feeling of your hands on him, the shape of your smile, the sound of your voice in his ear, or the way that you sounded when he made you come. It's all condensed in a mystifying lavender haze that reminds him of the oil you used on him that clouds his better judgment.

Once it's clear he won't be able to move on unless he contacts you somehow, he decides to pay Diamond a visit. She's overseeing her other location at the motel, and they have lunch together in a small diner nearby.

“Are you going to tell me what we're doing here, J?”

“What? I can invite an old friend to lunch?”

“I'm not that old. And I'm not that dumb, either. I know something is going on. Are you in trouble again?”

“No, nothing like that,” he scoffs, and pauses to garner the courage to ask. “I was just wondering if you could give me her number.”

“Her number? You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You know, the girl you set me up with the other day.”

“Oh my God, you can't be serious. Tell me you're joking, Julian.”

“I'm not.” He shrugs. “Look, I just thought we had something and wanted to see her again.”

“Have you forgotten how this works? That's her job, to make you feel like you're the most special thing in the world. Why do you think I sent her?”

“Please, D? Do it for me.” He tilts his head like a puppy dog. “You don't have to believe me or understand it, but I need to know if she felt the way I did. Just one call. I won't bother her if she says no. You know me.”

“Don't look at me like that.” She leans back on her side of the booth, unable to deny his request. “Okay, fine. I'll ask her if I can give you her number, that's the best I can do. If she's okay with it, then you'll have your answer.”

“Thank you. You're the best.”

“Hm-hmm.” Diamond side eyes him as she pulls her phone from her bag to text you.

They finish their lunch and as they head out the door, her phone chimes. She casually glances at it and leaves him hanging for a moment as he walks her back to the motel.

“Was that her?”

“It was.”

“You like torturing me, don't you?”

“I don't like it, but I enjoy it sometimes.”

“So, are you going to tell me what she said or not?”

“She said you can call her. I'll send you the number.”

“She did, huh?”

“Don't act so surprised. You and I both know you can charm anyone. You’re dangerous, Julian Kaye.”

“Thank you. I owe you one.”

“You still owe me a foot rub, motherfucker.”

“Well, make that two,” he locks an arm around her and he kisses her cheek.

— credits: divider by @bernardsbendystraws

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