#getting up because they have to and walking forward.

[luveline]

would you be able to do hotch’s adult daughter meeting the team?

—Hotch introduces his daughter to the team. 1.3k

“Aaron?” 

He’s grateful you didn’t call him Mr. Hotchner, but dad might not hurt. “Everything okay, honey?” he asks the phone. 

“Sure, um. This might be presumptuous and, like, embarrassing for me, but my last class got cancelled and I was wondering if I can come to your office today?” 

He feels his brows rise of their own accord. He checks his watch. You’ve picked a good day to want to come. “Sure, it’s quiet here.”

“You don’t want me to explain why?” 

“Presumptuous and embarrassing for me, I thought it might be to see your dear old dad.” 

You laugh funny on the other side, like Jack when he’s surprised. “Kind of. I do want to see you, but I was wondering what it’s like. In the FBI, I mean.” 

“You’re interested?” 

“In working there?” you ask. 

“It’s fine if you were, you don’t have to worry.” 

“It looks too intense for me, but… yeah, I guess I want to know what you do all day. I don’t know anything about that part of your life, and it’s such a big part of it.” 

He’s trying hard to say Yes to you at every opportunity, and this yes is easy. He sends a car to get you because he can, preparing himself for a lot of fawning and surprise. The BAU team, namely, Spencer, Derek, JJ, Emily, Dave, and Penelope, know who you are, but the office itself has little knowledge of you. There was chatter the day you turned up here unannounced. You haven’t been to the office since. 

He exits his office and finds Spencer, Emily, and Derek in the bullpen doing their paperwork, among other things. Derek’s peeling an orange. Spencer has his nose in a book despite a hand on the computer mouse. 

“Are you ready?” he asks them. 

“For what, the round table?” Emily asks. 

“Y/N’s coming into the office.” 

Three backs straighten in unison. “The kid?” Derek asks with a grin. He’s the only one who’s actually met you, and it drives the others mad with jealousy. 

“My kid, yes,” he says. He can’t help smiling. “She wants to see what we do. Please don’t show her anything with blood or gore, though. Please.” 

“Scout’s honour,” Emily says, standing from her desk to brush herself down. “Out of everything that’s happened when I started here, is it strange that this is the craziest?” 

“It’s up there,” Spencer says. 

“It’s certainly the nicest surprise I’ve had,” Aaron says, not quite missing the look Emily and Derek share even as he spots you at the office doors with your visitor’s pass clipped to the belt of your skirt. 

He walks to meet you, lest the sheer sea of faces intimidate you. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

You pull your jacket tighter around you, but it’s not a warm thing —if anything, it seems to be a stiff cardigan, grey and white plaid with ornate buttons. “It’s freezing out there.” 

“You’ll feel much warmer in a minute. The heat has been on high all day, JJ’s orders.” He slips his hand behind your back and shepherds you to the bullpen. “Honey, these are some of the members of my team. Supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid.” 

“Emily,” Emily says, thrusting her hand forward to shake. 

“Spencer,” Spencer adds, managing to escape a handshake as Derek steps in. 

“Derek Morgan,” he introduces himself, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I can see now why you were reluctant to tell me what you were here for.” 

Your smile goes sideways, like you’re startled, but pleased nonetheless, “I– honestly, I thought you’d make me leave if you heard what I had to say. It’s still not believable.”

“You sound like him,” Spencer says. “Not masculine, but–”

“Mellifluous,” you and Aaron say at the same time. 

“Exactly.” 

“Freaky,” Emily says, though her smile is brilliant. 

When Aaron sat the team down to tell them, it wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. He loves you as any man loves their child even if he still has mountains to learn about you, and the urge to brag about you doesn’t go away, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer so many questions about you at the time. As far as anybody in Aaron’s life knows, he and Haley haven’t ever split, it was a private parting, and so the first thing he sensed from everyone was a shift in image. “I didn’t cheat on Haley,” he’d said quickly, with a suffering sigh, “we were broken up at the time.” 

“Like, on a break?” Emily had asked, cringing. 

No, not really. Aaron assumed he and Haley were broken up permanently when he slept with your mother, but that brief relationship cemented for him that he loved his now-wife. Now that the team know he’s not an adulterer, the only thing he has while presenting you to them is pride. 

“Y/N’s class was cancelled today, so I’m going to show her around the office and give her some insight into what we do here,” he says, catching your attention with a grin. “It’s not as though you need today's lecture, hm? She’s nearly the top of her class.” 

You shake your head at him, beaming but mortified, “Don’t.” 

“If she didn’t work so hard–”

“He’s trying to get me to quit my job,” you tell the others. “He’s overbearing.” 

“We know,” Emily says. 

“I just think that now is a time for studying, and you’ve worked hard enough already.” 

You shift marginally closer to him. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Aaron does, and he suspects his team do to. “I’m fine doing both,” you say. 

He’s sure he’ll win the argument one day. For now, he escorts you through the office to the round table, then his office, pulling you into Rossi’s office for a charming hello and then to JJ’s, where you’re greeted with excitement and a disarming amount of love. Aaron forgets sometimes how much he and his team have been through together. You really are a good surprise. 

“Where are we going now?” you ask, following Aaron down a long corridor. 

He smiles. “You don’t have a sensitivity to high-pitched noises, do you?” 

Your confusion is plain on your face. Aaron takes you to a familiar door, placard reading in big, black letters: PENELOPE GARCIA, BAU TOP TECH AND DATA ANALYST. It’s surrounded by pink heart shaped stickers. 

He knocks the ajar door politely. “Garcia?” he asks.

“Sir?” Penelope says back. 

He eases open the door with his foot. Penelope turns in her chair, blonde hair in windswept curls, her lips painted a pink-orange. 

“Garcia, this is Y/N, my daughter.” 

Penelope’s mouth falls open. “I know who she is,” she says, nearly monotonous. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard so much about you. I love your trinkets,” you add, nodding at her wild desk. 

Penelope gives Aaron a pleading look. He nods. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Penelope says, rushing forward to throw her arms around you. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

You laugh and bow gently under her weight. “Me neither,” you say sincerely. 

“Oh my gosh. Oh my god,” she says, pulling away to smile at Aaron, “she sounds like you, you weren’t kidding! How is it possible that she sounds like you?” 

“Strong genetics?” he suggests. 

“I’ve never been this happy in my life,” Penelope says. 

He watches you take Penelope’s excited hand and thinks, that makes two of us. 

“You’re so adorable, I’m looking for Hotch in your face but you don’t look like him at all. But your clothes! You’re so cute, like a baby politician!” 

“I’m almost twenty three.” 

“So young,” Penelope fawns. 

[moonstruckme]

And since you're such an angel, I would love some:

snow angels with doctor!remus

Thank you and please hydrate 💧

Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words

Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 

“Yeah.” 

“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 

“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 

He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 

“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 

“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 

“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 

Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 

“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 

Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 

“Remus,” you whine. 

He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 

You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 

“No.” 

You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 

“Yes, love. Relax.” 

Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 

“Ow—Rem!” 

“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 

“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 

“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 

You make your displeasure known through your silence. 

“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 

“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 

“Is that good?” 

“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 

He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 

“A little, yeah.” 

“Headache?” 

You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 

“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 

“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 

He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: Chan comes back home from the Gym, making up his mind to divert his head from a lingering insecurity about his body by working all night. But you make him realise how much you love his Greek God physique.

Warnings: Smut🔞 Body insecurities, kisses, hickeys, oral (m.receiving), praising.

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: This one shot was requested by this ask, thank you so much for dropping this idea on my inbox!!

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 2.3k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The scent of the lavender candle spread across the atmosphere of the warm living room as you sat on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket and your book, waiting for your boyfriend to come back home from the Gym.

After a lovely lunch and cuddles, Chan decided to hop into the gym for a quick session for the week.

Your eyes read across the pages of the book, your mind concentrating on getting lost in the world of fiction when the sound of the keys on the front door distracted you.

The door opened and Chan entered, looking tired after his workout session but still devastatingly attractive. His loose t-shirt clung to his damp skin and his hair was tousled from the effort. His gym bag hung from his shoulder, he gave you a soft smile when he saw you curled up on the couch.

"Hey, baby," he said, his voice low and warm as he dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his shoes.

"Hi, Chan," you replied, setting your book aside and pulling the blanket tighter around you. "Tough session?”

He shrugged, walking toward you and sinking down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. His muscles flexed as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Just... needed to clear my head."

You frowned, sensing the heaviness in his tone. Sliding closer, placing your cheek on his arm, feeling the heat radiating off him. "What's on your mind?"

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It's nothing," he muttered, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

"Chan," you said softly, tilting your head to catch his eyes. "Talk to me.”

He finally looked up, his dark eyes swirling with vulnerability. "It's stupid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I’ve been feeling off about how I look lately. Like I’m not enough."

Your heart clenched at his words. "What?" you said, incredulous. "Chan, you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. And not just because of how you look—though let me tell you, your body is like a freaking work of art."

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but he still looked uncertain. "You’re just saying that.”

"No," you insisted, sliding into his lap and straddling him, the blanket falling away. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you leaned in, your lips hovering over his.

"I mean it.”

Chan brushed a stray strand of hair being your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. “You always making me feel good with your words sweetheart. But I think it's just me. I could do better… I'll just do some work to get it off my head.”

He said softly, as if he was accepting defeat to his insecurities and no way in hell you're going to make him feel that way.

“Chan…” You let your lips brush his, a soft, teasing kiss that made him shudder unexpectedly, his gaze turning dark. “Every inch of you drives me crazy. And if you don’t believe me…”

Your lips trailed down to his jawline and neck. Your hands roamed over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles through his tank top.

"...I’ll just have to show you.”

Chan let out a shaky breath, his hands finding your waist as his eyes darkened with intensity. “Baby,”

Before he said anything, you placed your index finger on his lips, hushing him. “Shh… you always make me feel good Chan. Tonight it's my turn.”

From explosive nights to loving mornings, Chan always made you feel like the centre of his world. He would never make you question anything about yourself. But when he does it to himself? Now that's unfair.

Chan groaned against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer. His body was warm beneath you, his skin damp from his workout but still so inviting. You kissed him harder, pouring every ounce of love and admiration into it, desperate to erase the doubts that had crept into his mind.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands moving to cup his face. "You don’t see yourself the way I see you," you murmured. "Every time I look at you, I see strength, kindness, and beauty. And that body of yours? It’s a masterpiece, Chan. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

He exhaled deeply, his hands sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“And you’re irresistible,” you countered, tugging his t-shirt upward.

He hesitated for a moment, a soft pink blooming his cheeks and a flicker of doubt crossing his features, but you didn’t let him pull away. “Nope. None of that,” you said firmly. “You’re perfect, Chan. Let me love you, please.”

Your plea sent something electric shooting straight through his body, after another second of hesitation, you took the black t-shirt over his head, your eyes drinking in the sight in front of you.

How can this man question his body? He was breathtaking in every possible way. Broad shoulders, chiselled, defined abs any man would envy. He was everything.

You kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. Your lips moved against his as your hands explored his shoulders and chest.

"Baby..." he breathed as you began trailing kisses down his jawline and neck, sucking on his sensitive skin leaving purplish red marks, your tongue flicking out to taste the salty sheen of his skin.

When your lips met his Adam's apple, it moved up and down as he let out a low, guttural groan, his head tipping back to give you better access. Your tongue traced the curve of his throat before your teeth grazed the skin, drawing a shiver from him.

His body trembled under your touch, and you could feel his self-control slipping. "You're driving me insane," Chan murmured, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to reality.

"Good," you whispered against his skin, your lips curving into a smile as you continued your slow exploration. "That’s exactly what I’m trying to do."

Your hands slid down his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips. You leaned back just slightly to admire him, your gaze roaming over every dip and curve of his torso. The soft candlelight accentuated the sharp lines of his abs and the strength of his arms.

You slowly started moving downwards, making a trail of hot wet kisses down his chest, your tongue flicking ever so softly over his areola, nails tracing his hard abs. Your fingers came back up to gently play with his nipples, Chan let out a heavy sigh.

You couldn't help but smirk at the way you have almost full control over him, finally and wondrously making all the way down, trailing kisses and licking every muscle of his abs, your lips reaching all the dips and valleys it could.

You kneeled before him as your hands played with his belt, your eyes flicked up to meet his.

Chan’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling as he watched you with a mix of anticipation and adoration. The candle and the dim light cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look almost unreal, like a god brought to life, sculpted just for you.

Your fingers worked deftly, unbuckling his belt and sliding it free that made him tense. "You okay, Christopher?" you teased, your voice low and sultry.

He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. The way you said his name, in that voice you only use when you take charge, made him dizzy.

"You’re making it really hard to think right now.”

"Relax Chris. I wanna show you how much I love you," you replied, pulling his shorts down revealing his Calvin Klein boxers. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the V definition, your lips lingering as your hands roamed over his thighs and palmed his growing bulge.

Chan groaned louder, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he fought to keep his composure. "You’re really something else, you know that?"

"Only for you," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

You slid his shorts down further, your fingers continuing to brush against the growing hardness beneath the fabric of his boxers. Chan hissed softly at the contact, his head tipping back as he let you take the lead.

"You’re so handsome," you murmured, your hands gliding over his thighs and up to his hips. "Do you have any idea how much I love every part of you?"

His eyes met yours again, and for a moment, all his insecurities seemed to fade. "I think I’m starting to believe it," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude and something deeper, something that made your heart ache in the best way.

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile, “And I’m not stopping until you do.”

Chan inhaled a long breath when you leaned forward, pressing another kiss to his hipbone before sliding his boxers down, your touch gentle and revealing his beautiful, velvet shaft proudly springing free from the confines.

Fuck.

He was impossibly hard, veins running through his length, the soft tip already leaking pre cum making your mouth water, ready to take him.

You stacked your hands on the base of his cock, kissing and licking the pretty tip before fully taking him in. Chan's head fell back, his hands gripping the couch, chest rising and falling, his length hardening more.

You started slow, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, savouring the salty taste of him mixed with the faint hint of his cologne still radiating off his skin.

Chan’s breath hitched, a deep groan escaping his lips as you wrapped your lips around him, taking him in torturous inch by inch into your mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice strained with pleasure. His hands twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to thread them through your hair and guide your movements.

But he didn’t need to—you were perfectly in control, and it was driving him insane.

You hollowed your cheeks, creating a delicious suction as you bobbed your head enthusiastically, your hands working in tandem to cover what your mouth couldn’t. Chan’s hips jerked slightly, a low growl escaping him as he let go of the last shreds of his restraint.

"God, you feel so good.” His voice was thick and unfolded like layers of velvet.

Your eyes flicked up to meet him as you hummed around him and stroked the faintish hairy skin above his length sending down vibrations that made his entire body shudder.

The sight of him, his head tilted back, the perfect view of the column of his hickey covered throat, parted lips, chest heaving, defined torse was enough to spur you on.

You increased your pace, your tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft, tracing every vein and ridge. Your warm mouth on his cock made blood rush through his body like an erratic tsunami, all his insecurities washing away like sand under the tide.

Chan’s hands finally found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he let out a broken moan.

"I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that," he warned, his voice rough and thick like gravel.

You pulled back slightly, letting your tongue press and circle around the tip of his length before releasing him with a soft pop. Your hand replaced your mouth, stroking him slowly as you smiled up at him.

"I love how you feel down my throat," you teased, your voice sounding gentle yet so sexy, he let out a shaky laugh, his head falling back against the couch.

Your entire focus was making Chan feel like a king, you continued your pace on sucking on his cock, your movements becoming more fervent as you worked him closer and closer to the edge.

Every moan, every curse that spilled from his lips was music to your ears, and you felt your own arousal pooling as you lost yourself in the act of loving him.

"Baby... I’m so close, fuck," he panted, his tightening grip finding its way back into your hair as his thighs trembled beneath your touch. His moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room as he surrendered completely to the pleasure you were giving him.

With one final swirl of your tongue and a firm stroke of your hand, you felt him tense, his body going rigid as he let out a shuddering gasp. White warmth spilled down your throat, and you swallowed every drop of his cum like you had starved, savouring the taste as you milked him through his release.

Chan collapsed back against the couch, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You slowly pulled back, strings of saliva attaching from your lips onto his length.

Wiping the corner of your mouth with a satisfied smirk, you leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his quivering abdomen. And one for each ridge of his defined abs.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

"You’re flawless, my Chan.” You chuckled, brushing your lips against the sensitive spot just beneath the tip.

He let out a breathless laugh, his head—both of them—buzzing with the aftershocks. His hand reached out to pull you up into his arms. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he said, his tone rough, looking almost shell shocked.

"Not a bad way to go," you teased, nuzzling into his neck as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

Chan kissed the top of your head, his voice steady and warm as he whispered, "Thank you. For loving me the way you do."

"I will always love you." You replied, your heart swelling with adoration as you both basked in the afterglow of the moment.

"I want you to see yourself the way I see you," you murmured, your voice soft but firm. "Strong. Gorgeous. Perfect."

Chan smiled warmly, his heart swelling with adoration, the room filling with nothing but the sound of ragged breaths as your mouths collided and the lingering scent of the lavender candle.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

[grapejuicenharry]

Hello, how is your day going? I don't know if you are actually receiving requests, if not feel free to ignore this. What about you and Harry fighting in the car, maybe you're coming from a date and Harry was really late, the walk home is difficult with him and you start a fight, so she decides to get out of the car and walk home alone.

(English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling errors that may have been made)

a/n: hello! My day is going well, thank u for asking. And yes, I do receive requests. No need to apologize—your english is great!

warnings: angst with a happy ending (sorry I couldn’t leave them like this!)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

It was 9 p.m., and you had been sitting at this restaurant for the past hour, waiting for Harry. Tonight was supposed to be your date night—something planned since last week. You'd even reminded him this morning, but here you were, alone.

It had been Harry's idea to take you out, to spend time together, to simply enjoy each other's company after weeks of him being swamped with studio work.

When he'd suggested it, you were over the moon, practically giddy at the thought of a night just for the two of you. Just boyfriend and girlfriend. 

You'd dressed up for him in the sheer black dress he loves so much, paired with your black stilettos that accentuated your legs. Minimal make up, save for the bold red lips that added a sensual edge to your look. You’d spent over two hours getting ready, perfecting every detail for tonight. But once again, you sat... disappointed. 

He was late. not just ten or fifteen minutes, but a whole one hour. 

Tears started to gather up in your waterline as the waiter approached your table for the third time, politely asking if you were ready to order. You forced a tight smile, declining him once again, murmuring that you were waiting for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but feel like the staff was probably laughing behind your back—this poor woman, sitting alone, waiting like a fool. 

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t an emergency or unavoidable crisis keeping Harry away. He’d used the same excuse too many times: Got busy at the studio, forgot to check my phone. Honestly, you were tired at this point of always coming second, but you know your pathetic heart will forgive him the second he starts blubbering out apologizes because you loved him—and you know he loved you, too. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You discretely wiped a stray tear that has rolled down your cheeks as the sound of commotion at the door caught your attention. Your eyes glanced to the entrance, and there he was—Harry, rushing inside, his eyes searching for her. 

The second he spotted you, he knew he’d fucked up. 

Harry strode over to your table, looking down at you with guilt written all over his face. His shoulders sagged as he spoke. 

“Y/N—fuck, I’m sorr—“ 

You stood up immediately, not wanting to hear a word from him. Grabbing your purse from the table, you turned around and walked away. Ignoring him.

Outside, the cold air hit you like a slap, your hair whipping against your face as tears spilled freely down your cold cheeks. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, desperate to hold it together. 

“Y/N, please—listen to me.” Harry pleads from behind her, his voice begging. He reached out to touch your arm, but you instinctively stepped back, putting more space between you. 

"Don't,” you muttered, wiping your tears. 

Harry froze, his hand hanging in the air for a second before dropping back. 

His heart breaks looking at your state, your mascara slightly smudged, your nose red because of crying, and your cheeks red with biting cold. You looked so vulnerable, and yet you wouldn’t let him near you. The realization crumbles him from inside. 

“I don’t want to hear anything; I want to go home. Just take me home or I’ll book a cab.” 

You whisper, sniffling, your voice hoarse and shaky. 

Harry’s throat tightened, but he nodded, silently stepping forward to open the car door for you. Without a word, you slid into the passenger seat. You fumbled with your seatbelt and stared outside the window. not glancing a look over him as he starts driving. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The drive home is suffocatingly silent. The air inside felt heavy with tension and unspoken words. The only sounds were the low murmur of the radio and the faint hum of the engine in the background. 

Harry's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The tension was evident as his other hand rested idling on his thigh, occasionally rubbing at his jaw in frustration. He wanted so badly to reach for your hand, to rest his palm on your thigh as he'd done countless times before. But he didn't. He couldn't.

It must have been forty minutes or an hour of driving in silence when you spoke, not able to sit in the tension atmosphere anymore. “Are we not going to talk about this?” You snaps.

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, trying to gauge a response: “What do you want me to say, love?" I said I was sorry.” 

Y/N scoffs at his words, her frustration bubbling over. “That’s the problem, Harry. You think an apology fixes everything. It’s not about saying sorry—it’s about not doing it in the first place. You knew how important tonight was for me.” 

Harry’s knuckles turn white on the wheel. “I didn’t get time to check my phone. I was so caught up in the studio—“

“Right, the studio.” Y/N interrupts bitterly, “Always the studio. Always something important than me.” 

The words hang heavy in the air; Harry’s shoulders stiffen. His lips press into a thin line as he pulls the car over the side of the door, and tires crunching against the gravel.

“What are you doing?” You ask, heart pounding.

Harry throws his car into the park and turns to you, his green eyes stormy and dark. “I don’t know what you want from me; I’m doing the best I can.” His voice was low but sharp. 

Your throat tightening at his words, shaking head, “Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough.” You whispers, trying to keep your tears at bay.

His eyes flicker, a flash of vulnerability breaking through his frustration, but you can’t take it back now. The tension feels unbearable. Before you could think, You unbuckles your seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asks.

“Home.” Y/N bites out, stepping out of the car. The crisp air waves through your hair, goosebumps rising in your body. “I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters back before opening the side of his door and stepping outside. 

“Ridiculous?” You whirl around, glaring at him. “What’s ridiculous is me sitting there, pretending that I’m not hurt. Whats ridiculous is you acting like this doesn’t matter” 

Harry’s chest heaves as he looks at you, searching for the right thing to say, but it doesn’t come fast enough; you turn around and start walking, your heels clicking against the pavement. 

You hear Harry calling your name, but you don’t turn around, knowing there is nothing for him to say that would make you feel better—nothing. The chill of air whooshes past you as you hug yourself tighter, wrapping your arms around you, and quicken your steps. 

The sound of his boots crunching against the ground, crisp leaves crushing beneath him as he follows you, the sound growing closer and closer, then you hear him say softly. 

“Y/N, please..stop."

Against your better judgement, you stop. You stop in your tracks at his words and turn around. Harry jogs and comes closer to you; this time you let him... wanting to feel him close. His face morphs into something more painful than that clenched jaw like earlier. The lines of frustration are replaced by something softer, something that aches your chest. 

“I get it,” his voice low, laced with hurt. “You’re hurt. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have been late, and I shouldn’t have brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It did; you matter to me.” 

The sincerity in his words cracks your heart walls, the river of tears that you’ve been holding threatening to spill over.

"Harry, it's not just about tonight," you say, your voice trembling. "It's about feeling like I'm always coming second to everything else in your life."

His shoulders drop, and he steps closer, his green eyes fixed on yours. "You're not second, love," he says; the words sound like a plea. "You're the only thing that keeps me going half the time. And I know I've been worse at showing that, but I'll do better. I promise you, I will."

You blink at him, trying to brush away the tears. "You say that, but—"

Before you can finish, his hand gently takes yours. "Look at me," he says softly, and when you do, there's nothing but sincerity written all over his face.

"I'll prove it," he says. "Not just tonight, not just tomorrow—every day. I'll make time. For you. For us. You're the most important thing to me, Y/N. I swear it."

His words sink in, warming the cold that's settled deep in your chest. For a moment, neither of you speaks. 

Then, his thumb brushes over your knuckles, and you realize how much you missed the warmth of his touch; he gently touches them and kisses each of your fingers softly.

"Can I take you home now?" he asks tentatively, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, the fight in you ebbing away.

"Okay," you whispered.

He lets out a relieved sigh and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Thank you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'll make it up to you, love. I promise."

[exhuastedpigeon]

please don't go 8x08 code - 646 words

"Don't go."

The words are trapped in a cage at the back of Buck's throat. Every time he's opened his mouth in the last week he's had to speak around them. He feels like a tiger pacing his enclosure, like he's going to snap at the bars if anyone gets too close.

"Stay."

He smiles when Eddie shows him house listings in El Paso. Smiles when Eddie invites him to the virtual tour. Smiles when Eddie tells him he's flying down to see the house in person. Smiles when he shows up at Eddie's house the night before his flight with another basket of scones because he baked and baked and baked but the words are still there, clawing at the bars trying to get out.

"Don't go."

His jaw hurts with how tightly he's clenching it when he slides into the driver's seat and starts the car to take Eddie to the airport. He's worried that if he opens his mouth at all he won't be able to stop himself from saying it. Won't be able to keep the constant thrum of "Don't leave me. Stay. Don't go. Please don't leave me" from passing his lips.

"Don't go."

He manages to say goodbye without the words tumbling out. Manages to watch Eddie walk through the departure doors. But then someone else must take over his body because he's parking his car in the tow away zone and ignoring the airport employee's yells that he can't park there and he's running.

"Don't go."

He surprises himself when the words actually leave his mouth. He clearly surprises Eddie too, because he turned around with wide eyes and looks at Buck like he's seen a ghost.

"Buck..."

"Eddie," Buck walks forward and pulls him into a bone crushing hug. Tries to put everything he's kept caged at the back of this throat into the hug. "D-don't go."

"I have to. Buck I have to get him back," Eddie says into his neck. Buck can feel a wet patch on his shoulder and he knows he's not doing any better.

"Please. Please come back," Buck says instead of what he wants to say which is "let me come with you."

"I will," Eddie pulls back enough that Buck can see his face. "I swear, I'll come back."

And Buck kisses him. He's a tiger that's escaped it's enclosure and is finally free after years of being trapped. He's a man standing in the middle of LAX kissing the love of his life, begging him to stay.

He's an idiot because Eddie is straight.

But then Eddie is kissing him back - Eddie. Eddie Diaz. His Eddie. - Is kissing him.

"I can't stay, but - but you can come with me."

"I've got to move my car," Buck laughs, a rush of relief and joy exploding out of him. He doesn't have any clothes except what he brought to Eddie's last night, but that doesn't matter.

"Okay," Eddie grins, soft and so fucking fond. It feels like all Eddie was waiting for was for Buck to ask him to stay and all Buck was waiting for was for Eddie to ask him to come with him.

By some miracle Buck doesn't have a ticket on his Jeep when he walks back outside. He doesn't bother driving to one of the lots, just spends the frankly insane amount of money on the valet and manages to get the last seat on Eddie's flight.

That night, when they're checked in at a hotel near the El Paso airport it's Eddie's turn to say it when Buck rolls out of bed to go to the bathroom.

"Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Inspired by @lonelychicago amazing art.

[barcaatthemoon]

movie moment || alexia putellas x reader ||

You and Alexia try to have a special day out.

Everything was nearly perfect. Both you and Alexia managed to carve out some time in your schedules for a little day out together. You had been feeling a little neglected, but Alexia was quick to suggest treating you to a date. She had expected you to just want to go shopping before dinner, but you had surprised her by asking for a picnic date.

Alexia had taken painstaking measures to keep as much of the day a surprise to you as she could. You were woken up a bit earlier than usual for breakfast, which Alexia brought to you in bed after her run. The early wake up call was quickly made up for with lots of little kisses as Alexia helped you get ready for the day.

The morning was clear and sunny, not a cloud in sight as the two of you walked from shop to shop. It wasn't until you and Alexia were driving to the park that you saw the first cloud of the day. It wasn't a dark or gloomy one, so you had no reason to think that it'd start raining at any point during the day. Especially not the moment you and Alexia found yourselves relaxing on the picnic blanet.

"You look so pretty in that dress," Alexia mumbled as she pulled you in for a kiss. You were a little extra giggly due to the two glasses of wine that Alexia had brought along. The two of you had cycled through hundreds of bottles of wine before you finally found one that you liked. And now, Alexia made sure that it was always stocked up in the house.

"It's almost like you picked it out for today," you teased. Alexia pretended not to know what you were talking about as she stole a bite of food from your plate. You didn't know why Alexia had even bothered bringing two plates since she always seemed to prefer whatever you had. Despite being absolutely horrible about sharing most of the time, Alexia seemed to love it whenever it came to you.

"You could have worn a trash bag out, and I'd still be looking at you like this." Alexia had a point, and you knew it. Alexia had let you walk out of the house in some very questionable outfits before because in her eyes, you always looked absolutely beautiful. Luckily, you had gotten into the habit of sending your outfit of the day choices to some of your more honest teammates before you left the house for any reason. "You're just that beautiful."

"Someone is sappy today. Are you trying to butter me up for something?" you asked. Alexia seemed to clam up a bit at that, but you didn't get a chance to question her about it. Both you and Alexia jumped up at the feeling of rain pouring down onto your bodies. Alexia shoved as much as she could into the picnic basket while you balled up the blanket. The two of you raced to Alexia's car, laughing as you stumbled a little bit.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" Alexia grumbled. You were still laughing, but Alexia seemed a bit upset about the date being "ruined" by the rain. You placed the blanket in the trunk of her car, glancing at her over the top of her car as she waited by your door. You were lingering a bit, which very obviously confused Alexia quite a bit. You hated getting your hair and makeup ruined, so she assumed that you would have been rushing around to get inside. "I'm sorry that it started raining."

"Nothing was ruined, I had a great day today. You really went all out for today, and I appreciate it," you told her. Alexia forced herself to look up and away from you in a feeble attempt to hide the blush on her cheeks. You tilted her chin down and leaned forward to close the distance between your faces.

Kissing Alexia was, and would always be, one of your favorite things in the world. She was so gentle with you, but she didn't let any of that mask her passion for you. All of the things that Alexia had a hard time articulating to you came out in her kisses. You could feel her start to take your breath away, a welcomed suffocation of emotion with each kiss that you got to share like this. This wasn't a quick peck, far from anything that the two of you had shared in public before.

"Come on, let's get back," Alexia mumbled as she broke the kiss. You sat down in Alexia's car, knowing that she'd be going crazy later cleaning the seats. Alexia didn't seem bothered as she drove the two of you home. "Go get changed, and I'll bring your things inside."

"Meet me on the couch?" you asked her. Alexia nodded, leaning over to give you a quick kiss before she sent you inside. You changed out of your dress into a pair of spandex shorts and one of Alexia's old Barcelona sweatshirts. You could hear Alexia changing as you wiped your makeup off and put your hair up.

Alexia beat you to the couch, remote control already in her hand. You curled up with a blanket beside her, unsurprised when Alexia pulled you fully onto her lap instead. She laid back on the couch with you on top of her, silently waiting for you to give her the go-ahead to turn on an old game. You knew that it was part of Alexia's daily routine to watch an old game of hers or an upcoming opponent's, and you had no intention of stopping her today.

"What game were you thinking today?" you asked her. Alexia didn't answer you, instead putting on the first game where your national team had played against Spain with you on it. It was the first meeting of you and Alexia in any capacity, and you never could have imagined that you would end up here years later. "Are you okay?"

"I am absolutely perfect. I don't think that I've ever been happier than I am with you. When it clears up, I'll get you a proper picnic date, I promise. Until then, this feels like perfect weather to stay inside and cuddle up together," Alexia said. You could tell that she wanted to say more, but you didn't press. And when you caught Alexia fiddling with a ring that definitely wasn't meant for herself later, you'd keep your mouth shut until the time was right.

[wonderjanga]

even though the bad parent captain marvel thing is resolved, i'd still love some more scenarios from the JL's pov of marvel's 'bad' parenting. ONLY if you WANT to do it, if you dont then just ignore this request lol

like him telling freddy or mary to 'fuck off' or swear at them in general and threaten to steal their stuff or blackmail them (like normal siblings do -coming from a middle child with two siblings)

or maybe they hear freddy and mary ranting about marvel and they JL misinterprets their sibling rivalry as abuse

Marvel is a terrible parent. The JL knows it. It just flabbergasts them every time they see or hear about it because Marvel is literally the nicest person ever so why does he hate his kids?

Junior and Mary: *walking down a hallway in the Watchtower while complaining about Marvel*

Mary: “Says you. He was chasing me around with a darn stick trying to beat me yesterday.”

Junior: “You don’t have the right to complain. At least you could run.”

Mary: “I guess but Pedro was carrying you so you could get away too. So I think I have to right to complain.”

Flash: *had the unfortunate displeasure of hearing that*

Now why was a grown man running around after his kids and trying to beat them with a stick? Also what did Cap do to make it so that Junior couldn’t run away?? Flash knew he was magic, so he was hoping he just used some magic to bind his legs or something. Speaking of Junior…

Junior: *annoying Marvel*

Marvel: *looking more increasingly annoyed* “Junior. Please take five steps back from me before I decide to slap the shit out of you.”

Supes: *immediately looks over to them*

Junior: “No you won’t. You’re chicken-”

Marvel: *literally raises his hand to do it*

Supes: *looks extremely concerned*

Junior: *immediately shuts up*

Marvel: “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

Junior: “Bastard.”

Marvel: “You’re a bastard too. Anyways, want lunch?”

Junior: “Yeah, tacos.”

Clark got a little whiplash from the quick change of topic. Though, that entire interaction really does enforce that he does not care for these kids. It’s so unfortunately obvious. Another example of him not caring was when Marvel and the silver one were sent to go examine a cave on a deserted planet.

Marvel and Eugene: *staring at the ominous cave*

Marvel: *walks behind Eugene* “Well… go on.” *pushes him forward to the cave*

Eugene: “What do you mean go on?! I’m not gonna sacrifice myself for you!”

Marvel: “But we’re family.”

Eugene: “So? I’m not fighting a dang Xenomorph if one pops out.”

Marvel: “Don’t worry. We’ll fight it together.” *continued to push him, but is thankfully walking with him*

Batman saw this entire interaction when he was reviewing to body cams he forced the two to wear. Who just pushes their son into danger like that? He needed to have a talk with Marvel about his parenting.

Pedro: “Hey, which of us is your favorite?”

Marvel: *almost immediately* “Mary and Darla.”

Pedro: “Mary and Darla- why them?? Darla was eating crayons just the other day, and Mary is Mary.”

Marvel: “Okay and…? They’re still my favorites?”

GL: “Wait, who’s Darla?”

Marvel: “The purple one.”

At least he likes the purple one, Darla? They haven’t seen a negative interaction between her and Cap yet. Emphasis on yet.

[stxrslut]

BEG FOR IT 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

pairing; ceo!rafe x pa!reader

summary; getting in trouble with your boss is never good in any sense, but with the particular personality that rafe cameron has, you know you're in deep shit, no matter how completely accidental or unintentional your mistake was

content; abuse of power, boot humping, dacryphilia, humiliation

authors note; none

there are better situations to be in than yours, that’s for sure. walking towards the office of your boss, you wonder why you ever even decided that the business world would be a good place for you to step foot anywhere near, no matter how small or insignificant your role in it really is. 

making a decision that could put this whole corporation at risk without even running it by anyone was never your intention, never your intention at all. it was a mere accident, you thought it was something random and unimportant you were doing, until mr cameron called you.

on the phone his voice had reeked of suppressed rage, even though he was quiet and calm, and he didn't use too many aggressive words, you could tell, you could tell because his voice had inadvertently struck the fear of god in you. 

his office is on the very top floor, which allows for plenty of thinking time on the elevator ride up, forty five seconds to be exact. in that forty five seconds you decide that you are willing to do absolutely anything to keep your job. the elevator stops and you step out, making your way to his office.

“come in,” he says in a composed sentence, but the fear is still there when you hear it. you push the heavy door and step inside. his desk is alone in the middle of the room, a large cushioned chair seats him behind it. there are large windows that span from floor to ceiling across the whole back of the room. there are a couple of hallways at the sides that lead to other meeting rooms, and youre also aware of a small private living quarter, though, even as a personal assistant, youve never had the liberty of entering them.

mr cameron is sitting in his chair, supposedly signing paperwork. he doesn’t look up when you come in, “you know what you did,” he murmurs lowly, face not faltering from that hard icy expression youre so intimidated by.

you immediately resort to being pathetic. “I'm so sorry sir! i didn't know i swear, i didn't know what i was doing.” you step forward, speaking quickly and panicking obviously. “I will never do it again! from now on i will double check everything, i promise.” his eyes finally flick up to you and he raises an eyebrow before leaning back in his chair. 

“you have put this company at risk,” he begins calmly, “if I wasn't as high in my field as I am, this would be an unsolvable issue, we would be done.” he informs you. you feel like your heart might drop out of your ass. 

“well it is solvable right, so it's okay?” you say tentatively. you need this job, he knows you need this job, there's absolutely no disguising it to him that you’re desperate. “please dont fire me, I'll do anything.” 

he watches you, like he's studying your facial expression and trying to read your thoughts. “you'll do anything?” he raises an eyebrow in a questioning look. that one sentence you uttered has now opened a whole new world of possibilities to him.

you nod quickly, “yeah! I'll take overtime or– or I could run more of your errands… uhm.. i could start bringing you lunch every day, i can–” he cuts you off by silently raising a hand and shaking his head.

“those are all things that you are already expected to do.” he says, “to keep your job you would have to do something… outside of your contract.” his tone changes, and you suddenly realise that he wants you to do something twisted.

you can think of the type of thing. and god, it would be a terrible thing for you to do. it goes completely against any moral you’ve ever had, to do a sexual favour in order to keep your job. it's twisted, if it ever got out your career would be ruined everywhere. but your career is already ruined if you don't do it. you can't afford to lose your job.

“what… what do you need me to do?” you swallow thickly, the shame already swallowing you whole at the implication of the actions you may be about to perform. you become aware of the unlocked door, what if somebody walked in right now, you would be fucked.

“come here and kneel.” he speaks curtly, pushing his chair back so there's space in front of him. you’re practically shaking with trepidation as you ever so slowly kneel down in front of him. your skirt rides up as you do, leaving you almost uncovered, completely visible if he was just a little bit lower down.

you expect him to say something, give you a command, but he doesn't. what he does is unexpected. he puts his foot forward. that's it. he extends his leg and places his foot right in front of you. shiny black dress shoes that look practically new, not a single scuff on them.

you frown in pure confusion. you are completely taken aback. what is he even expecting you to do? he knows that you don't understand and so he leans forward to clarify, “sit on it, grind on it.” your face twists in unexplainable emotion. “and then beg me for your job.” 

you feel every moment of pride youve ever had slip away as you rise up and shuffle forward so that one leg is on either side of his foot. then a tear slips down your cheek as you slowly lower down to place your panty covered pussy onto his shoe.

it's a sudden sensation, the laces are rough against your sensitive area. you don't like it, but oh, the pressure does incite an involuntary sensation of pleasure there. you can't help it, it's only natural. mr cameron knows it too.

your movements are shaky as you start to push your hips up and down, subsequently grinding down on his shoe. you wobble a little, not knowing if you should grab his leg for support and so you play it safe and don't. 

“you’re not begging.” he tells you, his tone so unbothered that it makes you wonder how many times he may have had someone do this for him. you take a moment to bring yourself to look at him, but the moment you do the pathetic words begin to roll off your tongue like they're the only ones you know.

“p-please. let me keep my job.” you cry, “I have debts, I'll never- uh- I'll never be able to live without this pay.” your voice is all broken apart, every time there is a twinge of pleasure down there you have to let out an uncontrollable sound. “I'll never make this mistake again mr cameron.” 

oh it goes on for minutes. long, shameful, disgusting minutes. you don't stop talking, begging, grovelling. your words only become more incoherent though, as the pleasure grows, you have no choice but to hold him for support.

your movements become erratic and he watches you. a sick smirk is planted on his face as he watches. It brings him a sick sort of pleasure to see you so desperate. he takes pride in the way he's taken advantage of you, he doesn't care how horrid or immoral it is. 

it escalates more when that knot forms in your stomach. you can't keep begging, you are overtaken by pleasure. for a few seconds you nearly forget about the situation you’re in and then the pleasure comes to an end.

your head snaps up to him immediately. you decide it's safe to stand back up again and so you do. “sir..” you say tentatively, hoping, praying even that he will now at least consider letting you keep the job.

he is silent for a moment before he looks up, “i have an errand for you to run.” 

you nod immediately, happy at the insinuation that you still have some sort of duty, despite what you have just been made to do for it, “of course sir, what do you need.” 

“take my shoes to be polished.” 

[awrkive]

Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it 😫😭

summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward – but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship? 

w/c: 3.3k

note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy… basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance

also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them 😮‍💨😖

It’s almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed. 

He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now you’ll be coming out of the door. 

And just as a slew of students’ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly – Joy, maybe? – before you look to the other side and finally see him. 

“Jungkook!” You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. “Sorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?” He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face. 

Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you don’t fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back. 

He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.

Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like it’s normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.

“You really did cut your hair.” You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he can’t help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears. 

“I sent you a picture.” He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actor’s haircut… and look, it’s not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bit… 

Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice. 

And you tell him so. “I like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!” You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. “I was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.” 

Jungkook chuckles. “I wasn't, and uh, thank you.”

“You're welcome. Anyway,” you say, “Did you wait for long earlier? Sorry ‘bout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit ‘cause there were a lot of questions about our new project.” 

“You have a new project?”

“Yeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and it’s a paired task thing, that’s why you saw me with Joy earlier—”

He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him. 

You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. “Sorry.” you say with a jutted lip and a little frown. 

“It’s okay.” Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you don’t watch your surroundings, he’ll just do it for you. He doesn’t mind. 

You grin. “Anyway… I was saying, it’s a hotel interior. But! The thing is, it’s a themed hotel, which I’m really excited about ‘cause I’m tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.” 

Jungkook nods. “I think so too. What’s the themed hotel about?” 

“Have you heard of a film called Metropolis?” He shakes his head. You nod at that. “Well, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and it’s a silent film from the ‘20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic – at least for that time. So that’s the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.” 

Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the terms he doesn’t understand because you always take time to explain it to him in layman’s. It’s funny, really, because ever since he’s learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.

Maybe it’s because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and there’s always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkook’s at peace with himself now that he’s just one of those people. 

He’s willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You don’t exactly make it hard to. 

And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isn’t… so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because you’re obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.

A lot of people would say he’s making up for all the times he’s ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldn’t go back to the life where you weren’t within his perimeter. Couldn’t imagine you both being back to – practically – regular strangers, so he just… opened up to you more.

He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align. 

And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior – but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you. 

Because frankly, he’s starting to feel like it's a little more than that.

He’s not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because he’s trying to make up for the past – he’s doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you… with you… to you… and just… just more. 

He wants more with you. 

And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings. 

Because he knows he’s been stupid all this time not to realize right away that he’s got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy – it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldn’t comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.

But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until he’s sure of what you truly think about. 

You’re always nice to him. But you’re kind of nice to everybody… so that gets him a little twisted.

On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out – when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.

He just can’t tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and that’s what’s been on his mind lately. 

“Oh, Kookie,” you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that – but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, “I can’t go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Rain check?” 

You pout. “Yeah.” 

“You can do it at my place? Hoseok’s doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he won’t be there ‘til the morning.”

“But I didn’t bring my laptop today.”

With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. “It’s alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,” he smiles. “Sleepover?” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.

“I want to, but I don’t want to impose.” You say. 

Instantly, Jungkook’s forehead creases. “You won’t be imposing.” When he sees that you’re about to decline again, he lets out a, “Please?” 

At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment. 

“Uh…” you trail off. “You sure? Are you not busy tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busy–” you nudge his arm at that, laughing. “– but other than that, no. I’ll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?” 

“I’d really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.” You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?

“I think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.” Jungkook says before you’re muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted “thank you” when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you. 

He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he can’t help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if you’re so used to being in his car – which you are.

And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him. 

“You’re done?” Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well. 

“Yep.” 

“Then come here already.” He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him. 

It’s nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkook’s shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. You’ve both already showered – separately, of course – and that’s one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet. 

“‘M so tired” You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkook’s abdomen. 

“Meeting went well?” Jungkook asks, and he’s a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but that’s okay, because soon you’re leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt. 

“Yeah, we got some work done,” You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. “I think I’m sleepy now.” 

“Yeah?” He follows after you, and he doesn’t hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. “My first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.” 

“I have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.” 

“Tough.” 

“I know… I wish I didn’t enlist in morning classes.” 

He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesn’t want to give into that just yet.

“You were with Jae on Monday?” He asks, carefully treading through the subject. It’s Thursday now. It's not like Jungkook’s a jealous guy… it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didn’t tell him you were with Jae. 

“Uh… yeah?” Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. “How’d you know?” 

“Taehyung told me.” 

“Oh.” He can practically hear the wince. “He has such a big mouth.” You say drily. 

That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory. It’s soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your – his – shirt riding up. 

Your answer takes awhile. 

“I was… getting help with estimates.” 

“... Okay,” Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. “But I’m really good with estimates. I could’ve helped you.” It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before… why now?

“Well, he offered.” 

Jungkook’s brows crease deeper. “That’s not…" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jae’s not even on the dean's list. How’d you know he’s teaching you the right stuff?”  

Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.

“He’s not even on the dean’s list?” You sound intrigued.

Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. “He isn’t. Look, I’m not saying–” when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes you’re just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole.”

You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether you’re wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not. 

You shake your head. “Not really. I believe you’re way smarter than him.” 

“Then why come to him and not me?” 

You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. “I just feel like you’re doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Monday– don’t deny it–” you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. “– and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck. 

“Ah… okay. I understand.” he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system. 

You smile at him. Playfully. “Sorry for asking help from someone who’s not on the dean’s list.” Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesn’t bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, “Sorry, sorry. That was just so funny. You’re so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?” 

“Not really.” Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.

What he doesn’t expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest. 

“You’re so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?” You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle. 

Jungkook meets your gaze. 

Sure, you’ve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months – but they never went to this length. And he’s not sure what the difference is, anyway – just that you’re much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesn’t deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even want you to move. 

“Alright.” Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.

“I’ll sleep now, okay?” But you don’t wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.

Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didn’t want him touching you or something like that – but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well. 

“The Jae thing really bothered you?” You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position you’ve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.

Jungkook hums. “Yes.” 

“Sorry for not telling you myself.” 

“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and there’s not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. He’s never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. “Are you not gonna ask why I was bothered?” He says after a beat. 

“I was gonna. But I think I know.” You answer, and Jungkook doesn’t expect that one bit.

He stops his ministrations on your hair, and it’s obvious that you’re about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again. 

When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question he’s been mulling about for the past two months.

“__, what are we?” 

[grapejuicestyless]

Haunted By The Look In My Eyes

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: After a near death experience while on an adventure Y/n and JJ were supposed to be sat on the bench for, tension builds between the Pogues until finally, JJ’s reckless attitude meets Y/n’s intense feelings that can only be compared to the hopelessness JJ once felt himself.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” I rolled my eyes, the coolness from the surface of the metal shipment container doing nothing to cool down the sweltering heat that danced through the air within the four walls. Boxes of random assortments of various items plastered in rotting wood and wrapped thickly in plastic wrap.

Water clung to everything, beading down my forehead in thick droplets of sweat, the salty liquid tasting on my tongue with each swipe of it over my cracking lips. I swore if I ever had the curse of being sent to hell, this was it. This was the fiery depths of heat people spoke about, I was sure of it.

JJ was glistening too, though, he seemed used to it. Growing up with no temperature regulations in the unforgiving summer heat seems to have made him less uncomfortable by the thickness in the air, I hadn’t been lucky enough to adapt over time.

I watched him slide down against the floor, trying to get as low as possible. Heat does rise, after all. I sat opposite of him. Climbing on the crates of junk and cringing at the insufferable squeaking sounds that I could only ever compare to nails on chalkboard. I sat as close to the small opening in the container as possible without making myself known to anyone walking outside. The risk was worth it for the cool breeze of the ocean, even for just a moment.

But just as I close my eyes, swaying and praying that the heat will die down, the blond speaks.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. When all this is over, and we’re just rolling in the dough…I’m gonna get a new board and I’m gonna deck it out. And I’m gonna go on a surf trip.” His head leaned back against the crate behind him, his hair sticking to the back of his neck and his once wildly untamed hair clumping together in a wet mess.

I gave him a look, leaning forward on my palms and smiling at him, I let my eyes wander around the container.

“I don’t know where, but like, the worlds callin’.” He smiled, dissociating for a second and letting his smile fade. Slipping away for only a moment. “I don’t…name a place.” He was back, the same toothy grin as before, the same glistening shine in his blue eyes.

I thought for a second, blowing air through my lips.

“Spain.” I nodded my head.

“Then, after Spain…South America or South Africa, you know-“

“You’re gonna go to South Africa?” I interrupted with a teasing smile, partially shocked that JJ ever wanted to go away so far.

“Or one of the south places.” He defended himself. “A-and then Micronesia maybe. And then, just ride…wherever the wave takes you.” He looked down at his ring clad hands, twisting them nervously like he might have doubts that his dreams were stupid, unachievable.

I smiled at him even when he wasn’t looking because I believed everything he said. I knew that one day, he would go out just like he said and catch the best swells around the globe.

“Y’know?” He looked up finally, catching my grin.

“So that’s the plan—if we were to get a ton of cash?” I asked, looking away from him again. “That’s the dream?” I said it like a question, though, really I was agreeing with everything he said. It sounded like a dream. “Surf trip.”

“Bamboo hut…cooking a fish on a fire and…after that you go back out and just hit the waves again.” He moved his hands wildly as he spoke, building his dream in his mind with just the wiggling of his fingers. I rolled my eyes playfully.

“That’s the dream.” He confirmed, his voice lowering slightly, and I knew he was serious.

“Sounds perfect.” I agreed softly.

“Yeah.”

“Got room for one more?” I shrugged, asking honestly despite the light smile on my face. JJ simply laughed, smiling and looking back up from his lap to meet my eyes. I watched how his smile dropped when he saw how serious I was.

“You got your passport?” He asked, and it made me laugh this time.

“You don’t got a passport.” I teased.

“Hell no I don’t got a passport! The Kookiest thing ever.” He smiled, and I felt myself laughing from my stomach. A real, happy laugh that I hadn’t felt bubbling up since I was a little girl. Since before all the guns and allegations, and prison sentences, and near death experiences.

Sometimes I wondered what I would think of JJ, if I didn’t know him. Sometimes, I feared that if I had been born on the other side of the island, if my parents could afford a nicer house, if I lived just nearly two neighborhoods over, would I be just like everyone else?

Would I have thought of him as just another Maybank? Surely, if told his dreams to Topper or Kelce, they’d laugh and call him nothing greater than his old man. I thought he was a great deal more than Luke ever was, but would I think that if I had more money in my pocket?

I decided that I would, because the look in his eyes told me I would have. They were blue, sure, but they were the most trusting, truest eyes I’d ever seen. Maybe that’s why he knew he was a good liar, because he had the doe eyes down, but he couldn’t fool me any more than he could fool John B, Kiara, or Pope.

JJ Maybank had been the center of my universe since he had dropped down right front and center of me, since he had wandered into my life and claimed that we were to be best friends forever without leaving any room for argument.

I knew that I would have found him in any life. Because I know JJ Maybank better than anyone ever has, and he knows me more than I know myself.

When he sighed and fought against the “B-Team” I faked my offense, because though I knew he was itching for action, we’d get to share a tender moment like this together, just locked up in a hot box with no room the breathe and no wind to cool us down.

I craved our conversations like he craved the chaos, and I clawed my way into his heart because since the moment I met him I understood how special he was to me. He’s so, undeniably special.

“The Kookiest.” I agreed softly, letting my head fall back and my eyes close again, content with the feeling of my beating heart racing for him.

Maybe being the B-Team wasn’t the worst, because then the only worry was trying to maintain a steady temperature and keep myself from swaying my way to the floor. Heat stroke seemed a lot less scary than this.

JJ quieted me down, though, I hadn’t said a word, and his pointer pressing against his lips reminded me that maybe he shouldn’t be leading us around the boat, completely exposed to danger, and so I snuck around him and squeeze through the thin passageway, ignoring his whisper-shouting protests.

Our bodied pressed flat against the side of the upper deck walls, my head stretched around the corner to view the empty deck ahead of us.

“Clear?” He asked softly, and I nodded my head quickly.

We ran on our toes, walking light on our feet to avoid the loud slapping of boots against metal. JJ fell behind me slightly as he spun around, paranoid of the potential of someone following behind.

“Jay, come on.” I mumbled desperately, feeling the stress falling down on me.

We turned the corner quickly, JJ turning to look over the railing for John B on a lifeboat, our getaway car, only to be met with open water. Our breathing echoed between our ears, neither of us heard the harsh slapping of extra feet plowing down the stairs ahead.

“I don’t see them.” He announced, all too loudly.

I froze in the presence of a taller man with untamed hair and scruffy facial hair.

“JJ…” I warned, squaring my shoulders off as he stepped in line with me. No one made any movement for a split moment.

“Jayj…” I said a little more desperately as the man unsheathed his machete, only drawing JJ’s in closer, a fein for danger, and a junkie for risk.

“Of course…” The man began to speak, his brows furrowing. “There’s more of you.”

JJ and I shared a look, our faced contorted in an unspoken agreement that we understood the numbers here. Two against one was a safe bet, though the factor of his blade made me squirm a little.

“Get down on your knees.” The man instructed, and I wanted to laugh.

“Yeah, thats not gonna happen!” JJ’s words became shorter as he took a step back, the man’s slow approach sending both of us in fight or flight. I knew from the first glance what JJ would choose.

The man swung violently, aiming down on JJ’s shoulders with a quick blow, but missing as he ducked and shifted to the left. The machete made a loud clanging sound as it hit the metal floor.

He swung again, this time at me, but he was already off balance, swinging aimlessly at someone who wasn’t there. My hands pushed down against his arm, keeping him and the weapon pinned to the wall of the boat, right against a closed compartment that looked like it was hiding electrical cables.

Grunting as he fought against my hands, JJ wound up and struck the man with his bare knuckles, hitting him square in the jaw. His hands braced the mans shoulders, our eyes meeting in the chaotic scene, another unspoken plan shared between our glances.

“Hit him, Y/n/n!” He instructed, and as JJ pulled the man back, I opened the compartment where his hand had been, smacking him dead center in his face so hard, it echoed through my ears. I couldn’t help but grimace to myself.

“Wheres John B?” JJ shouted, his voice rough with anger. He shifted from foot to foot, hands drawn in a position ready to swing, even with the man helplessly lying on the ground.

I ran to the edge of the boat, my palms bracing myself over the edge, the empty water making my stomach drop. I wondered helplessly what was holding the others up as JJ and I fought on borrowed time.

“John B!” I shouted, my voiced strained.

I heard the sound of hair moving quickly, the cut of a blade slicing above JJ’s head as he once again ducked, but this time, we weren’t as lucky. With a kick to the gut, JJ went flying back, his head bouncing off the side of the railing. He sat with his hand cradling the back of his head.

“Y/n/n!” He alerted me. Turning on my feet, the man was closer to me than before, his gaze deadly and set solely on me.

He swung once, twice, missing with each violent stroke of the blade. I ducked the best I could, growing more confident as the pain of connection never came, but I grew too overconfident. I spend too much time with JJ, I guess.

The sting came quickly, a burning pain that ripped through my skin and sunk deep past the tissue. I screamed out in a broken cry of desperation, my fingers gripping my shoulder in agony.

The man swung again, only to be pulled away by the blond boy once again, his arms swallowing him whole from the back. Their grunts were the only other thing I could hear past the beating of my heart, yet, seeing the man elbow JJ in his sternum hurt more than the wound that bled out between my red fingers.

He had JJ winded, and with one swift turn, he tried to take me one more time.

I ducked, and watched in horror as the blunt end sent JJ flying over the edge of the boat, nearly three stories until the splash sounded from the deck.

The man came at me again, the dance becoming all too repetitive as the sole of my shoe connected with his stomach. He stumbled into the ground, lying flat. I raced to the edge, the sight below me sickening.

There JJ was, floating on his stomach, his head below the surface, unmoving and sinking slowly. The waves look him in every direction, and all that filled my mind was the silent begging that he would flip.

“JJ!” I screamed, trying to wake him as if the water wasn’t filling his ears. The water around him bubbled, the deep blue a bright white from the impact, his old tank top lifting to reveal the shape of his back.

He didn’t move, he didn’t respond, and my feet met the top of the railing on the boat. I didn’t even think, I didn’t register all the danger below the surface, how stupid it was to jump into the open water with no guarantee that John B would ever show up, but it didn’t matter because I couldn’t stop it. I was hitting the water regardless of how fearful I was of the cold.

“JJ!” Water fell out of my mouth in heaving splatters of coughing fits, my hair glued flat against my skin and my clothes clinging to every inch of my body. I would be lying if I said the impact didn’t hurt, if the salt water didn’t burn the harsh aching in my shoulder.

“Jayj!” With my good arm, I pulled the blond boy into my body, laying his head back against my shoulder to keep him above the surface, to get some air into his lungs.

“Jayj?” My other hand came to grab his face, and my thighs burned with how viciously they cut through the water, treading painfully harsh to keep us afloat. His limp body drifted against mine, and the gentle tangle of our limbs made it harder to swim.

“Jayj, stay with me!” I dropped his cheek, needing the extra hand to keep us above the water. With no help around and only the unfamiliar waters to call home, I felt a bile rise in my throat, like I could vomit if my stomach wasn’t so empty, if hungry was a feeling I had grown to know.

“Please!” I gritted my teeth, feeling my head drip under the gentle waves for a moment, it stung when I opened my eyes again. “JJ, please!” I cried out, taking in every breath of air like it was a gift.

“Stay with me, stay with me!” I grunted, using all my strength. I debated letting the water take me, if only I could extend my arms to keep him a float, I would let myself drown.

My thighs burned, and my arms were too shaky to hold on for much longer. My brows furrowed and my nose burned, a familiar ache in my lungs. I knew crying would do me no good, but as my chest became hollow, I felt my tears mix with the oceans waves drowning out my face.

Everything hurt. Hurt in a way, I could never explain. It was like I could feel each edge of my heart giving out and the sharp cuts of every wheeze that huffed past my cracking lips.

The water was red. Redder than I’d ever seen the ocean because water isn’t red. Maybe it was the cut from his head staining the once vibrant seas a dark maroon, but I could see it swirling in delicate droplets down my arm, I could feel the stickiness even in the salty surroundings.

But there was also fear. Fear that my best wasn’t enough, fear that I would become inclined to give up, because giving up is much sweeter when you have the option. Dying never is. Not even when you want to. Having the urge doesn’t make the pain less scary, and so I kick restlessly to keep the both of us up.

“John B’s coming, John B’s coming, okay?” I assured the empty crowd, JJ completely unaware of the distress of the situation as he lay lifeless in my weakened arms.

His arms floated with the movement of the ocean, his hair covering his eyes. The blond hair that I adored, ran my hands through and ruffled was darker now that it was wet. Not in the way it was when he surfed, but drenched. Stuck to his skin and covering his forehead.

With one strong kick, I gained enough power to lift us up just a bit higher from the surface. My shaky hand brushed the hair from his face.

“John B!” I call out as I steal another glance at his paling face, a red stain spreading on his temple from the blow of the blade, leaking down and staining my own cheek from how close he is to me.

“Help!”

The motor of a boat catches my ear, but my lungs have given up and I’ve already sunk so far below the water, our heads are barely breaking surface.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I pant out, my eyes shutting like it would do us any good. I could have let him go, I could have carried my own weight a moment longer, but with every doubting thought, my hands only held onto him tighter, a silent refusal to give up on him, even if it meant letting the darkness consume me.

Kiara would have yelled at me, and been proud all at once. She would have called me stupid for risking my life for someone so reckless, but then she would have clapped me on the back and said it was what any of us would have done. Pogues for life and all that.

I really missed her now, I wished she was here to scold me, I wished I wasn’t so alone.

“Hey! JJ!” A chorus of cries for us rang throughout the distance, the motor boat approaching as the others all cried out for JJ, my head slipping below the waves.

“No, no, no, no!” John B’s voice broke, the weight on my shoulder lifting, I saw Pope and John B lift him from the water through the stinging of my blurry vision, I felt him leaving my grip, but my hands only grabbed onto him harder.

Subconsciously, I couldn’t let him go. It was only hurting the both of us, we were saved, the Pogues finally finding their way to us, but part of my brain couldn’t comprehend that it was all ending soon because it was all going black. My vision, my heart, my mind.

But just before the water could suck me down, Kiara pulled me on board, her hands grabbing onto me like I had grabbed onto JJ.

“Y/n, holy shit.” Her voice shook with concern. Where her knuckles had held onto me, where my shirt was wrinkled wetly between her fingers, came the slow oozing of deep maroon down my skin, staining everything it touched.

It smeared around with every rock of the boat, and I swore I felt myself swaying. Kiara said something about the depth of the wound, how she thought she saw bone. It blurred like my vision, my lips parting only to shut at the sound of Pope and John B’s distress.

JJ laid still with his head propped up against the edge of the boat, eyes shut just as they were in the water, his eyelashes laying curled against his wet cheek.

The sight gave me a second wind, my hands craved to feel the weight of his body in my arms, to feel the warmth of his skin against my finger tips tor remind me he was here.

“JJ, no, come on!” I begged through broken tears. “Please, get up!” My hands tapped on his chest, though I was ready to press my lips against his and give him all my air if I needed to.

I crawled to him like I needed him to breathe, my knuckles scraping across the bottom of the boat, bruises and cuts littering my pruning skin. I clung to him like a vice, my lips wobbling like a child.

“Get up!” I shouted, scolding him like a mother. Yet, the brokenness of my voice seemed to carry into his empty head as his drool spilled out of his lips, spitting up onto his chest as he gained his bearings.

It was gross, the salt water mixed with the slimy drool dripping from his mouth and wetting his soaked tank top beyond what it was, but I had never seen a more relieving sight. My best friend drooling all over himself, but god, he was alive and that’s all that mattered.

The boat seemed to fall quiet for a moment, all in awe of his return, all following the wavering gaze that swept over the small boat. He was out of it, for sure. His eyes carrying a sense of question beyond what he usually held, but as he registered the faces around him as his closest friends, his family, the panic seemed to fade into a mellow knowing.

“Yeah, yeah! Cough it out, cough it out baby!” John B encouraged, a sea of instructions following from the others in a desperate hurry, all reaching over to simply feel for a steady thumping of a pulse.

I sat back on my heels, looking down at him, and revoking my warm touch from his chest quickly. Retracting it with uncertainty that it would hurt him, like he was fragile.

“Welcome to the land of the living, dude.” Pope smiled, earning a side eye from JJ as he looked around to find his friends all looking down at him with concerned gazes.

My fingers shook, hovering over his chest like I didn’t know if it was right to touch him, if I had the right. I’d felt my own chest caving in just minuted ago, I wondered if I dared to rest my palms against his skin, would he feel the same?

I laid a hand on his shoulder, and watched his vision dance from where we touched to my face, taking a moment to breathe in my presence.

“Hi.” I breathed out in relief, but also something deeper that I didn’t have the words to describe.

“‘Sup.” JJ said, his usually cool demeanor meaning nothing to me at the moment. I pushed his head away gently, still all too aware of the wound leaking from his temple, the way the blood seemed to stain everything. His hair, his skin, his stupid shirt. It tainted everything good with the memories of the bad, the unforgettable, the hurt. But I couldn’t stay away for too long.

As soon as the smile cross his golden features, my arms wrapped around his face like a blanket, holding him to my chest to feel how fast he had my heart beating. He didn’t mention the drumming against his ear, but the warmth that spread across his face told me he felt it, he knew the feeling all too well. Maybe if I had the courage to rest my hands over his heart, I would have known.

I thought of the surf trip, of his dreams, of the gold, of everything that he ever wanted, and I sweat at the thought of it never happening. I crumbled at the idea of him not getting to be a forever given in my life, of him only being a fraction of time, when I wanted it all.

“Don’t ever do that again.” I mumbled against his wet hair, but I don’t think he heard it over the chatter between him and John B, the laughter from Sarah all too loud to hear my soft whisper, a confession that really wasn’t much, but carried the weight of all my emotions.

If he did, he didn’t mention it. He was good at not mentioning it, but he was bad at forgetting.

“You’re bleeding all over the sand, Y/n.” Sarah pointed out, stepping out of the boat, allowing JJ and her husband-to-be to drag the long dead motorboat onto the shore.

An island to call home and a tropical paradise to explore for however long the summer would last and the warmth would suffice.

I was the first to let the water reach my shins, practically jumping out of the boat in a rush, an overwhelming need to feel the ground between my toes, to rinse off the grime and hurt from the failed mission. One cross gone and another home taken.

My body lay starfish position on the soft surface, my shoulder still open and aching, but dulling over time. It didn’t feel that bad anymore, and I was sure the ringing in my ears was just from the adrenaline, though, I’d never heard it before.

“That’s nasty, shes right.” Kiara agreed, trying to tug me up by the arm, only to stretch out my collar bone and earn a lazy grunt from my lips. If I were as smart as I had been prior to the stress, prior to the fact of the pact of the B Team, prior to all the shared dreams and promises to make it out, I would have asked Cleo or Pope to help mend my wounds.

Now, I just felt ready to die. Let my life wash away into the open ocean and let the jellyfish drink me up. Let the sea turtles consume me and share the same bliss of a high that I did with my friends.

“Circle of life.” I grunted, my cheek covered in sand, I buried my face into the dirt. “It’s an early Thanksgiving for the seagulls.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Kiara kicked my hip lightly, trying to move the rock of a being I had become.

“Yeah, and not everyone celebrates Thanksgiving.” Cleo joked from a distance, already gathering wood and stone for a fire. It would be dark soon anyway.

“My joints hurt.” I complained drowsily.

“No shit, I can practically see your bone. Get up.” Kiara fought, turning her head to call for back up from someone with the power to move me from my dormant headspace.

“John B, Pope!” Kiara called out with an annoyed expression, and I found myself smiling at the way her face grew fuzzier and the sounds all became one loud booming ring in my ears.

It hurt so good, a warmth covering my body like a blanket, a reward after fighting so hard. If death found me, I found it peaceful. Ready to be consumed by the darkness to avoid the haunting memory of the limp body floating in my arms. To forget about the way my heart clenched beyond repair.

It wasn’t like, it was love. I’d always known it deep down, but now I knew I could put a name to the feeling, and it terrified me. Because it replayed every second of JJ’s life slipping away, and somehow, it left out the part where he came to.

I could barely make out the shape of the trees anymore. Everything became one big collage in the sky.

“John B! JJ!” Kiara looked back, stunned by the look in my eyes, the same look that had been in JJ’s before he was taken by the waves. A look that would have haunted me for a lifetime. It now tormented Kiara.

It was a look of slipping, of giving up, giving out. The end, even.

“Help!” She cried out desperately, watching the clumsy boys scramble to the ground and catch their bearings, hands digging through the dirt to get to me.

“What happened?” Pope called out, his concerned hands holding Kiara’s shoulders and his love sick gaze failing to focus on what really matters.

Isn’t that funny? I spent all my time focused on JJ, my own gaze stuck in the permanent focus of only him. I didn’t even care to feel the pain tearing away at my skin and my bones. I barely even noticed it after a while. It became nothing compared to the something I almost lost.

Now, as I lay in the sand, choking on my breath in agonizing pain that slowly seeps through in waves, I watch through blurred vision as Pope does the same.

It seemed that it just now snapped in everyone’s mind that the maroon pooling around my arm wasn’t normal. It wasn’t like the scrapes from sharp rocks in the surges, or the nasty head wounds from countless drunken dares to climb things that shouldn’t even be looked at while sober.

The bubbling, and the smell, the metaling smell, it was sickening, and it wasn’t normal. Adrenaline can only get you so far, and hell, I’d already spent it all up.

“Y/n/n!” I heard a familiar voice, rough with exhaustion but stronger now that the day was beginning to wash over and the pain was beginning to creep away.

His dirty hands pressed hard against my skin, his delayed nature only slipping his hand over the one place it shouldn’t have been. Touch me anywhere, make me feel okay, like this isn’t really the end, but please, don’t dig your fingers around in the wound I have just for you.

It only makes things harder to mend.

“JJ!” Sarah screamed, and I threw my head back, screaming.

It hurt worse than anything, the feeling of nail against flesh. It stung more than any jellyfish and it scratched sharper than any knife. Thousands of needles shot down my veins, my knuckles stuttering into a pitiful fist.

“Stop! Stop!” I cried, my whole body shaking—no, my whole body collapsing in on itself. Folding into the earth in order to run away from the pain.

“I’m trying to help, stop squirming like a fish!” He stressed, the creases by his brow showing the wear from the evening already, we all felt as though we’d aged a century in a minute.

“Get off of me!” I tried to reach over, I didn’t want his dead hands on my cold body. I didn’t want his limp fingers rubbing against my moving joints. I didn’t want to feel what I felt in the water, and I didn’t want to see it either.

“Please, get off!” I shouted, my voice breaking like a fragile thing. A thin layer, a brittle sheet of clay crumbling under the weight of the hands that once so tenderly shaped it.

Dying does a funny thing to the mind, especially in a panic. You spend all your time trying to remember to breathe, you forget reality. Even though he was kneeling down beside me, digging around under my skin and arguing back harshly words he meant as sentiment in his overwhelming stress, to me, I had convinced myself he was dead. I didn’t do it, I couldn’t save him, I let those thoughts of giving up consume us and I watched him die in my arms.

There is no boat ride, there is no island, there is no nothing. There is only before, and the end. There is no after. Forget the fact the blood is sticking to everything, and the fact that I’ve felt John B’s cold rings slapping hard across my cheekbones to keep me aware of myself, everything is all nothing and I hear nothing but the sound of my ragged breath wheezing and my horrible cries echoing, bouncing off the Pogues.

Pope took over, finally getting his brains back. The scarecrow held firm pressure over the wound, evenly spread along my arm in a way that stung, but never scratched, never matted the fur of my mane or cut off my skin. He spoke so quickly, and it was so muffled, I began to want to hear him, take the trip down the yellow brick road and find the courage to stay.

Then, there was the ripping of a shirt. It was dark, and rough, but worn in so it felt softer that way. Then, more pain, more pressure, and then, nothing.

But this wasn’t death, because I could still hear and feel and taste the spit on my tongue, the salt water that washed everything I bit down on away. I was still there, but now, I could feel myself calming down, drowning out the silence and coming back to the truth.

“Have you considered a career as a EMT?” I panted, my heavy eyes flickering up to Popes reforming face, the hay and the straw hat fading away into just the kind boy I loved. The yellow road becoming the soft, now wet, sand beneath my back.

He smiled like a dope, clicking his tongue and showing his toothy grin. Relief was the only word to describe the silence that fell over the group at that moment, silence that felt heavy to everyone but the victim. Silence that I felt on the boat.

“I hate you.” He laughed, punching me between the ribs with a force that only could be equated to the fact that he wasn’t a liar, and it was obvious he was on the math team, not an athlete.

“No you don’t.”

My body curled up in laughter, nose scrunched and aware of the extreme caution that was required to keep my arm from splitting apart. I tried to argue back, but my words fell short on choked laughter, letting Kiara hoist me up by the waist and feeling her wet bracelets press against my warm skin. JJ simply walked away, all too quiet for a boy who never knew silence in his life.

I didn’t press him.

“Can I sit?”

Days had passed, water lapped at the shore, quenching the insurmountable thirst of the dry land before it. The wind blew softly against the greenery, and the birds sung out, diving into the distant waters for their supper.

JJ sat with his knees pulled to his chest, arms thrown over the bend lazily, hands fiddling with a sharpened stick he had been working incessantly on since he’d finished his first project, a white waving flag that read, Pougelandia.

The wind blew up the end of his shirt, a cut off tank top that once fell to his mid thigh now rested loosely at his tanned hips, ripped unevenly across the dark stitching.

He breathed evenly, eyes not even flickering over to meet mine, not a word shared between us. A dream of surf expenditures and found family adventures. We talked of island paradise when all smoothed over. When the earth buried our blood and tears, and the sting began to slip away.

There was happiness, beyond the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror of the swift nightfall, the impending cold that would have brought any surviving energy away from our warm bodies. There was calm.

He promised to make boards with dried wood, to carve them by hand, break them with his knuckles. The wood was rotting, and it was cracking quickly.

Once again, dreams were altered to fit the shitty hand that was dealt. The rich became richer, and our frames became thinner.

The world spat in our face and said it was the wind.

I sat down beside him now, and it was unusually quiet between us. I guess, this was better than the forever silence, the six feet of separation that I wanted nothing more than to leave behind. He couldn’t even see me.

“Did I do something?” I asked quietly, voiced drowned out by the sound of the sea, the distant hollers of our friends echoing above the trees. I wished I could see everything for what it is, but I had not a clue, a fool sitting beside my uncharacteristically empty best friend.

“No.” He answered plainly.

“No?” I asked, begged practically for confirmation. He nodded his head, agreeing, but it was unclear if it was an agreement within a disagreement.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’, bitter, I could see it more clearly now in my new found focus.

“I can’t make it go away if you don’t tell me, Jay.” I smiled, laughing like it was a pity for us to be so awkward. And it was, it was so fucking weird. Fake niceties are weird.

Leaning forward to mirror how he sat, I tried to get a forward perspective of the furrow between his brows. He brushed the space below his nose and sniffed like he was annoyed. It reminded me of the boy who held up the cross with his bare hands on the ship, the boy who had aimed a gun at the kids he grew up with, his own sister too. His anger reminded me a lot of a Camerons anger, and I figured he had enough reason to feel stressed, he had all the reason to show it.

“This isn’t Kildare.” I reminded him.

“I know.”

“It’s just us.” I added.

“I know.” He nearly snapped, fingers tingling with annoyance, anger, grief even. It was a dying fuse ready to explode, to burn it all down.

We sat in silence for a moment, and I hoped he would speak. Rarely, we had fights. Usually they were stupid, ending in us laughing and my hips thrown over his shoulder. He never hit and neither did I, neither of us even tempted the idea. If we needed space, we gave it, though, it never lasted long because we craved each other like a dog to its owner. Like a moth to a flame, we always came back.

Still, I hoped he would speak first. I felt like I was doing most of it, carrying the conversation for five people while only speaking to one. When he remained quiet, trying to reel it in, I broke the tension.

“You can tell me what’s wrong, Jay. I’ll be here. It’s not like I could leave even if I wanted to.”

If I hadn’t lost my life, I had lost my ability to read the room, because my weak joke fell so flat, it might as well have served as the boards we never got to make together, the memories we would never get to experience. It rotted into his mind and left something so disgusting to him, I could read it on his face.

“No, no but you could.” Sand kicked up behind his heels, hands pushing up off of his knees, knuckles bruised and palmed sandy. He was scruffier than usual, but the blues of his eyes were all the same, dappled with the flickers of light I had fallen in love with so long ago.

“What?” I laughed, standing up slowly, but then jerking forward once I saw how quickly he was creating distance between us.

If we weren’t alone then, I was sure he had led us into total solidarity.

The trees were thicker here, the shoreline rocky and short, even at low tide. It would be completely gone in a few minutes when the tide would start rolling in. I could feel the water trying to break free against the soles of my shoes every time a larger wave came crashing through, between the overhangs and vines that tried and failed to barricade the sacred land.

“Because you did leave, Y/n. You left.”

JJ turned around, his hand pointing to my heart and his eyes avoiding contact where the cloth was wound tightly around my skin and bone. The shirt he tore to let me wear and to let me feel put together again. He stepped closer, closing the distance between us.

I caught the way his eyes seemed to shine more delicately in the reflection of the ocean, the way the wind blew against his blonde locks, the same shining color as his heart of gold. A loyal, fiercely protective friend who was crumbling at the mere idea that abandonment could always win, even though the people he believed would never leave.

“You left.” He repeated more quietly, his lower lip wobbling with such an intensity, I felt the bile rising up in my throat.

“I didn’t leave.” I defended quietly between choked breaths. “How could you think I would leave? I would never leave you, I wouldn’t want to.”

“Then what was that then?”

His head turned to look out at the horizon, biting down harshly on his teeth and sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. His weight shifted from left to right, fists clenching and unclenching by his side, conflict evident in his face. His brows were drawn in so tightly, his face scrunched up almost like he was in pain, like he couldn’t even fight anymore, I watched the internal battle between strength and hurt argue over who got control over his brain. I could tell which had already won his heart.

“I watched you there, Y/n. I saw the…the blood and the tears. I saw all of it, you were dead. You died.”

I shook my head, feeling a familiar lump forming in the base of my throat. Everything seemed to burn. From my sweaty palms to the flare of my nostrils and the back of my skull. It all ached dully, inflamed by the accusation that I had truly given up, that I had been gone with no intention to come rescue him.

“I was there.” My voice broke, my eyebrows pulled down in a deep frown. My palm instinctively came to cup my wound, and my fingers cupped around the fabric, pulling down gently to let the pain breathe.

Never in our decade of friendship had I ever felt so alone from JJ. We were on other worlds and it was clear, and it was something I hated being accustomed to. We were so alike, but so different in this moment. Together but so far apart. Like January and December, one after the other, following like ducks but with the distance of a lifetime between.

“I was there, I saw you standing over me.”

“You pushed me away, you didn’t need me! You didn’t want me. I saw the look in your eyes. You wanted to leave. You were okay with leaving!” JJ shouted, his voice booming. I wondered if it had the power to carry over to the others and reveal our argument to everyone. We were too far away, and I was thankful for that because I knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to be kind. I could feel the bubbling pressure building in my chest like a hot rock sizzling my flesh from the inside out, and it wanted to sink through if I didn’t spit it out.

“Can you blame me?” I cried out, tears falling from my water line in a stream of pain that cut deeper than any blade had. “I was in pain, JJ! I was in so much fucking pain! I was bleeding out, in a place I don’t know, and I’ve never felt more alone! I couldn’t breathe, JJ. I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t see. Why is it selfish to not want to want to suffer, when I would wish you the same peace if it were to happen to you.”

JJ’s chin wrinkled in sadness, wetting his lips with his tongue and blinking back his own tears. I had so much to say and only so much air in my lungs. Only so much I could choke on before it all came out.

“The worst part is, I thought you were dead. If the damn blade didn’t kill me, you would have because I would rather die than have to live the next eternity without you by my side. I thought…I thought I failed you, and I couldn’t even look anyone in the eye because all I could see was your face in the water. Do you know how terrifying that was? To have your limp body weighing me down in the ocean? My best friend, my buddy, the only person I’d ever want to bother me like you do. Dead, all because of me? Do you know how guilty I’ve been? How guilty you’ve made me? I’m a god damn monster, and it’s a shame I turned out like I did because I had the potential to be something like you. But I can’t be because I’m a failure. Because even for even for a moment, I was thinking that maybe we would both be better off if I just gave up? If I let the ocean take us because god, if the light hasn’t been kind then the darkness can at least give me some damn peace!”

We both fell quiet now. My chest heaved with anxiety. My bones felt heavy, I felt heavy. I felt stupid, and I knew nothing I was saying made sense. It was all mindless rambling about everything I’d been mulling over for what felt like years.

“I love you. A-and I mean that in a way that I’ve never known before, and that fucking terrifies me. It terrifies me that theres always a chance that one day I won’t have the privilege to lay next to you, or-or to sit with you on the porch at John B’s and just talk about things that don’t matter like they do. Like, I love you, dude! And I can’t act like I don’t anymore. I thought…I thought that if I pushed it down, if I ignored it then maybe I could forget about it, but I can’t. Because the truth is I’ve always loved you. And I’m sorry if this means everything has been a lie, if I’m a fraud but I can’t pretend like I wouldn’t die for you, because I would and I tried.”

“I’m sorry, what?” JJ breathed, eyes wide and lips parted. He was shocked, and so was I. There was no going back, it was eat the words or let the words eat me. The truth was out, and I couldn’t deny it.

“I love you.”

Silence. Every moment led me here, to this island. Every time I grabbed onto the back of his jacket to steady myself, or the times I pawed at his chest to get him to stop trying to antagonize the Kooks. I followed him to the ends of the earth, literally. That was proof of my love, if not, it proved my devotion.

“I’m sorry.” JJ whispered back. His eyes shined with freckles of light from the waves and the stars and the sun. He couldn’t say it back, and I knew why because I know him, but we both knew what he meant to say with his apology.

“Me too.” I breathed out.

Often, our friends would poke fun that we couldn’t keep it under wraps around each other. That our lingering touches and fleeting glances were too romantic to be a friendly gesture. Maybe part of their teasing was right, but not completely.

Stepping forward in the sand, I felt the warmth of his arms pulling me into his chest, the strength and the kindness familiar, but the touches deeper and different. Where we once dappled with affection became a feeling that dominated now. We’d stood like this before, but with the confession hanging between our lips, everything was different.

His breathing, his gaze, the curve of his lips, the tucking of his nose against my cheek. We bumped noses blindly, his fingers dancing up my spine to the small of my back. I felt his eyelashes tickle my skin before I felt the rough-soft mixture of his lips pressing against mine.

It felt like something out of a movie, like fantasy. All those stupid stories I’d never believed where the lovers fit together perfectly made complete sense now as we molded together with a dance we knew all too well.

My hands reached for the back of his neck desperately, pawing at whatever curves I could get a grip on. It was slow, a steady pour of the heart into each other and completely intoxicating up until the moment we split apart for air.

“I should die more often if you’ll kiss me like that.” I joked, laughing into the crook of his neck.

“Nah, you don’t gotta do all that anymore.” He promised.

Affection was never our thing, love was foreign and forgiveness came hard. We held grudges and fought secrets for each other, and in the end, it’s what made us make perfect sense.

I look at JJ now in the dimming light above the ocean, and I no longer see the reflection of his empty gaze and heavy body. I see adoration, a softness that I’d always failed to recognize before.

“Jay?” I mumbled, chasing his lips again. He hummed against my skin, warm air tickling my body.

“Save it for the surf trip, okay?” I teased.

He growled playfully, squeezing the curves of my hips and nipping at my shoulder.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

I laughed.

“I’d save you.”

“Maybe.” JJ smiled, beaming with love.

After a moment of silence in each others arms, I felt his chest expand with a calm breath, and the stutter in mine silenced whatever thought he was about to blurt out impulsively.

“We should probably really consider getting passports.” I suggested softly, still longing for the surf trip with my best friend.

“Hell no, thats some kook bullshit” He argued softly, his smile still stretched against my skin.

“The kookiest.” I agreed.

I felt JJ pull away to breathe in the salty air. His eyes remained trained on mine, and the look gave me deja vu to a time not so long ago. A look we shared in the sweltering confinements of the cargo ship container. Only, now that I wasn’t blinded by a mixture of excitement for the treasure and the fear of failure, I could see the real gold in front of me. I could understand the gravity of his gaze.

A look that would fluster me for a life time.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.

"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily. 

He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.

"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.

LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.

With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.

"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."

He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.

Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.

-----------------------------------

You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.

"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.

It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."

While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.

You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.

You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.

When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.

"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.

"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."

Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."

"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."

You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."

"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."

You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"

"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.

You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?

Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting,  you found yourself close to panicking.

You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.

When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.

"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.

What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.

You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.

The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.

When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.

--------------------------------

Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.

Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."

"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."

The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.

"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.

It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.

You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.

He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.

"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."

Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."

She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."

Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."

Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."

One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"

He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."

Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."

Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again. 

--------------------------------

Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[majaurukalo]

Look, I get it, disability support is not as trendy as being an LGBTQ+ supporter or against racism, we might not have all that cool music and colourful parade floats, our flag has a lot of black. It’s not fashionable. No business puts the disabled flag in their logos on July.

Some of us make non-disabled people uncomfortable (to their own admission) because of how we exist in this world. Some of us slouch and drool, some of us have tics and spasms, some of us are missing limbs or parts of our faces. We might have bulky mobility aids and big and noisy equipment, some of us can’t avoid to attract attention, some of us are shaped in a “weird” way. We might walk and move too slowly or take a lot of time to express ourselves, to form thoughts and words. Some of us don’t speak. Many of us can’t fit in, can’t hide our disabilities and the way we look.

No, it’s not trendy or fashionable. I get it.

But the problem is that society has decided that there is only one standard to exist, to look, to be. The rest is abnormal, wrong, sick, broken…

It’s the mindset that needs to change. We should open up to all the different possibilities we could encounter, to the idea that what we are used to see is not necessarily the only right thing. Because there is no a “right” way to exist, to go through this World, to live, to look, to be. The more we open up to all of this, the more liberating it will feel. And it will be easier to accept the possibility of a future disability that might happen, to us and the people we love.

It’s not enough to just say “yes, disabled people deserve rights”. There should be an active step forward. Be uncomfortable. Get used to the idea of being around people who are not the “standard”. Be uncomfortable with the idea of a body and a mind that don’t work like you are used to.

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 3 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

“I’ve got a body outside a bar on Main, and then you get attacked here.” Sheriff Hicks almost sounds accusing as she looks at Sam while speaking. “You said the call came from Amber’s number?”

Sam nods faintly, a distant look in her eyes. She’s been like this ever since she and Richie came back into Tara’s room, and even though I know I shouldn’t be, I’m worried.

Not only did she almost get killed, she’s also got something on her mind that’s upsetting her. I know because she’s got that telltale crinkle of hers in her eyebrows.

“So?” Amber pipes up next to me. She came in a couple of minutes ago with Sheriff Hicks. “We know he called on my phone before when he attacked Tara.”

True, but it’s still a little weird. Why wouldn’t he just use a burner phone to make the calls?

I glance at Tara to see what she thinks about all this, but she’s just looking back and forth between Amber and Hicks, fear and uncertainty written all over her face. First she was attacked and now Sam.

Who’s going to be next?

“Or, and I’m just spit-balling here. . . You’re the killer,” Richie says and even though I neither like, nor trust him, I have to admit, he’s got a point.

Offended, Amber crosses her arms and stares at him incredulously. She looks like she’s about to say something to defend herself, but then Sheriff Hicks beats her to it.

She turns to him and narrows her eyes. “And where were you wenn all of this happened?”

Richie falters slightly and I can see him tighten his grip around Sam’s hand which he’s been holding ever since they came in. “I was. . . watching Netflix.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. Of course he was, how convenient. . .

Seemingly reading my mind, Amber scoffs and says, “Ooh, yeah. Super solid alibi, bro.”

“So, where were you?” He fires back. Then, he looks at me with raised eyebrows. “And what about you? Hmm? You just so happened to walk around the corner right after Sam was attacked?”

I stiffen and it takes everything in me not to walk around Tara’s bed and slap him. How dare he? I would never try to hurt Sam, or Tara for that matter. I can barely even kill bugs because I feel sorry for them, so how could I possibly hurt another human being like that?

“Excuse me?” My voice is low and dangerous and the only thing that stops me from snapping is Tara who grabs a hold of my sleeve. “How would I even do that? I’m injured, and I literally just got back to the hospital.”

Richie snorts. “So you say, but you wouldn’t be the first psychotic killer to fake getting hurt to divert suspicion from yourself.”

Fury pulses through my veins, but I don’t move or speak. Tara’s grip on my sleeve tightens and much to my relief, Sheriff Hicks comes to my defense while Sam continues to stare vacantly at a spot on the opposite wall.

“It wasn’t Y/N, or Amber,” she states. “Surveillance footage shows Y/N entering the hospital during the time of the attack, and it was’t Amber because I was questioning her and her friends at the sheriff’s station.”

I give her a thankful nod and place my hand over Tara’s, silently telling her that I’m not going to lash out.

“Yeah,” Amber says, leveling Richie with a glare. “I came as soon as I heard, but, you know, the Netflix alibi is good, too.”

I must admit, Amber and I never really clicked for whatever reason, but right now, she’s my favorite person.

Sheriff Hicks lets out an exasperated sigh and hands Amber her phone back. “Okay, both of you, stop it.”

“You’re going to put more cops on her room, right?”Sam’s voice takes me by surprise.

Tara glances at her sister and then back Hicks while Amber and Richie continue glaring at each other.

“Yes.” The sheriff’s face softens. “And I can move you to a private floor. Deputy Vinson knows what he’s doing, you’ll be safe.”

That last part seems to have been the wrong thing to say because Sam bristles. “Like we’ve been so far?”

Oh dear. . .

The air in the room shifts and I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting for Sheriff Hicks’s reaction.

I know Sam can be short tempered and people usually dismiss it, but I fear this time she might have crossed a line. Sheriff Hicks is only trying to help, and Sam questioning said help isn’t doing anyone any good.

“Samantha, let’s step outside.” The tight lipped smile on the sheriff’s face makes me cringe and be thankful I’m not on the receiving end of it.

Sam clenches her jaw and looks at all of us for a moment before getting up and leaving the room with Sheriff Hicks.

Not even a minute later she returns, alone, and stands by the open door with a defeated look on her face. “Well, she remains a delight. . .”

I can’t help the way my lips twitch in slight amusement, and when Sam’s eyes meet mine, a bitter sweet smile briefly tugs at her lips.

“Are you okay?” Tara asks, putting an end to our little . . . moment?

Sam’s eyes dart to Richie, Amber, and then back to me. “Uh, actually. Would you mind giving us a second? I need to talk to Tara.”

“Of course,” I say quietly, squeezing Tara’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

She smiles softly and let’s go of my sleeve, watching Amber, Richie and me file out of the room before Sam closes the door behind us.

“So, you’re a fan of the Hawks?” Deputy Vinson asks when I run into him outside the bathroom.

“What? Oh.” I look down when he points at my hockey sweater. “Yes, kind of. I’m on the team.”

“Really?” He smiles.

“Yeah, but I don’t play professionally yet because I’m currently working on getting my Masters degree,” I explain.

Vinson lets out an impressed whistle. “Nice. So, you’re planning on playing professionally once you’re done?”

I shrug. “That’s the plan, yes, but we’ll see what happens.”

He nods and smiles. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.” I smile back and point my thumb over my shoulder. “I should go. Tara might need something and I think I forgot my phone in her room.”

He nods again and ushers me to get going. I chuckle and turn to leave, feeling my smile drop a moment later when I round the corner and see Richie standing at the door to Tara’s room, clearly listening to what’s being said inside.

“Hey!”

He flinches and steps away from the door, his eyes widening when he sees me.

“What are you doing? Are you eavesdropping?” I know the question is unnecessary, because he clearly is, but I want to make him squirm.

He takes another step back and raises his hands defensively. “What? No, of course not.”

I continue walking toward him, closing the distance between us until we’re almost toe to toe. We’re the same height, so I can’t say I’m looking down when I level him with a challenging stare, yet he seems to be shrinking in on himself the longer I stare at him.

“I was just— I wasn’t,” he stutters, trying to explain himself, but then a shout from inside the room cuts him off.

“Get the fuck out!”

Tara.

A second later the door opens and Sam comes out with tears streaming down her face. She winces when she sees Richie and me and quickly wipes at her eyes while trying to suppress a sob.

What happened in there?

The look on her face and the tears in her eyes remind me of the night eleven years ago when she snuck into my room. I still don’t know why she did it back then, but I have a feeling it’s related to whatever just happened between her and Tara.

Unlike that night eleven years ago though, I don’t make a move to comfort her. Not necessarily because I don’t want to, I do and don’t at the same time, but because Richie beats me to it.

He pulls Sam into a hug and looks at me over her shoulder, daring me to continue my interrogation from before. And even though I would love to do nothing more than just that, I drop it and slip into the room.

If Sam is this upset, there’s a good chance Tara’s not doing any better either, and when I see her, sitting in her bed with her own tears streaming down her cheeks, I’m proven right.

I close the door behind me and quickly make my way to the bed, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” I whisper when she moves closer and buries her face in my shoulder. “You’ll be okay.”

“No. . .” She whimpers and hugs my waist. “Sam. . . She- She—“

“You don’t have to tell me what happened.” I cut her off, but she shakes her head.

“N-No, I do. You have to know,” she says, her voice muffled by our embrace.

I raise an eyebrow even though she can’t see it and ask, “Know what?”

Tara shudders and tightens her arms around me. “Billy Loomis is Sam’s real dad.“

Five years ago

“There you go, buddy. Sleep tight.” I laugh when Liam groans and buries his face in his pillow. He called me half an hour ago to pick him up from a party because Paige is sleeping at her girlfriend’s tonight and he didn’t want to bother her.

“Thank youuu, I love you,” he slurs and I just pat him on the back.

“I love you, too, dude.“ I go to the kitchen and fill a glass of water before returning to his room and placing it on his nightstand next to some painkillers. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles again and then he’s out like a light.

I leave the apartment, locking the front door, and get into my car to start the short drive home.

It’s almost one in the morning, and I’m exhausted, but I’m glad Liam called me instead of driving home himself.

Yes it’s late, and yes, I’m tired, but I couldn’t have lived with myself if anything had happened to him if he’d gotten into his car, drunk, and gotten into an accident.

My parents woke up when I was on my way out, asking where I was going and when I told them, they simply told me to drive safely before going back to bed.

Now, I’m almost back home, and I can practically already feel the warm embrace of my bed again, but then I spot something that makes my heart stop.

Stumbling along the side walk with a man hot on her heels is Sam. The man keeps grabbing her arm, saying something, and she keeps brushing him off, obviously uncomfortable.

Her movements are uncoordinated and I hate the fact that I know why.

She’s high again.

Without thinking, I drive past them and pull over, stopping the car on the side walk right in front of them.

“Hey! Take a hike, dude,” I say, getting out of the car.

Sam and the man both come to a halt and stare at me. Sam barely even registers what’s going on, her glassy eyes staring right through me while the man scoffs and steps up to me.

“Mind your own business,” he growls. He seems to be in his thirties, has a buzz cut, and has a tattoo of a tiny rose on his temple.

“Sorry— No can do, pal,” I say calmly, trying not to cringe at the smell of alcohol on his breath. “She’s my friend, and you’re bothering her, so leave.”

“Or what?” he asks, smirking and revealing his chipped front tooth.

I sigh. “Or we’re going to have a problem.”

“Yeah?” He laughs and shoves me slightly. “What are you going to do, kid? Hmm? Call your parents? Or—“

My fist connects with his jaw, and a second later he’s on the ground, unconscious.

Was that a bit of an overreaction? Maybe. But did he deserve it? Definitely.

“Y/N!” Sam gapes at me. “W-What did you do?”

Even though she’s high, she doesn’t seem to have lost all of her ability to think straight. She sways on her feet and goes to crouch down next to the man, but I wrap my arms around her waist from behind and pull her back up.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” I say. She smells like alcohol, too, and I don’t even want to imagine the amount of drugs and alcohol she’s consumed tonight.

“No,” she slurs, weakly clawing at my arms. “I don’t— I don’t wanna go home. I wanna go— I wanna go with Josh.”

“Josh?” I ask. “You know that guy?”

“No— I mean, yes a little. He bought me a drink and—”

“He was trying to take advantage of you!” I argue, not letting go of her.

“No, he wasn’t!” she shouts and I cringe, hoping no one wakes up and looks out of their window because of her.

We’re in a quiet neighborhood, and I’m almost certain if someone saw us right now, they’d call the cops because they think I’m trying to kidnap her.

And I wouldn’t even blame them for it, because it definitely looks like it, but I’m really just trying to help.

This isn’t the first time I’ve taken her home after finding her high, and even though I’m used to the protest she puts up, the next thing she says catches me off guard.

“You always ruin everything, Y/N!”

I freeze and try not to let it get to my head, but her words tug at my heart painfully.

She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.

I swallow the growing lump in my throat and loosen my hold on her a little. “Come on, Sam. I don’t want to fight. Just get in the car.”

Much to my surprise, a moment later, the fight leaves her body and she wordlessly let’s me lead her to the car.

I open the passenger door and help her in, making sure to put her seatbelt on before closing the door again and rounding the front of the car to get to the driver’s side.

As I open the door, the man, Josh, starts to regain consciousness. He groans and twists on the ground, making me roll my eyes.

Pathetic.

I know he’ll be fine since I didn’t hit him that hard, so I get in the car and pull back onto the road, leaving him behind just as he’s getting back up.

“I hate you,” Sam whispers a minute later. Her voice sounds clearer than before and the venom lacing her words makes me believe she actually means it.

She’s said it before, especially the first few times I picked her up from a party, but she’s never said it like this before.

It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s safe.

There’s a big chance she won’t even remember saying it tomorrow morning, but I know I will.

Neither one of us says anything else while I drive until I pull up next to the curb by our houses.

Seeing Christina Carpenter’s car in Sam’s driveway, I figure it’s not the best idea to drag her up to their front door and ring the doorbell, so I take her to my house after helping her out of the car.

She’s back to being completely high, head lolling from side to side and steps totally uncoordinated, so as soon as we get inside, I pick her up and carry her up to my room.

I expected her to protest, to tell me to put her down immediately, but she doesn’t. Instead she wraps her arms around my neck and holds onto me while I carry her.

“Alright, here we go,” I whisper when we make it to my room. I’m not afraid of waking my parents because they’d understand why I brought Sam here instead of taking her home, but I don’t want them to worry, so I try to stay as quiet as possible.

It turns out, opening a door with a whole ass person in my arms is more of a challenge than I thought, but I eventually manage to get it open, stepping inside and closing it behind us again with a soft click.

“‘M tired,” Sam mumbles, her fingers curling around the fabric of my jacket.

“Yeah, I bet,” I say quietly, feeling my own exhaustion wash over me. “Just a little longer, then you can sleep.”

I gently place her on the bed and take off her shoes before pulling the comforter out from underneath her.

“Do you need anything else? Something to drink? A sweater,” I ask, but Sam doesn’t answer. She has her eyes closed and it looks like she’s already asleep. When I move to sleep on my couch on the other side of the room though, her hand shoots out and she grabs my wrist.

“Just you.”

I hesitate and try to ignore the way my skin tingles where she’s touching me.

I hate you.

The memory of her words stings and makes my heart ache, but then she opens her eyes and looks at me pleadingly.

It’s the kind of look she always uses when she wants something from me, so a moment later, I cave and slowly slip into bed next to her.

“Thank you,” she whispers and the sincerity with which she says it makes tears well up in my eyes.

First she says she hates me, then she asks me to sleep in the same bed with her.

I’m so confused and exhausted, it hurts, and I don’t know how much longer I can endure this emotional roller coaster.

She changed after that night six years ago when she snuck into my room, and at first I thought it was just a phase, but then her dad left and as time went on, she pulled away more and more, avoiding me until, eventually, she started drinking and doing drugs.

There are moments where her old self shines through, like last week, when we had a movie night with Tara and my parents, but those moments are rare and these days, they’re basically nonexistent.

“Y/N?”

I freeze, her sleepy voice bringing me back to reality.

“Yes?” I hold my breath, waiting for her to continue, but she never doesn’t. “Sam?”

I turn my head to look at her in the darkness and exhale shakily when I realize she’s asleep. I admire her soft features for a moment, taking note of how grown up she looks now that she’s turned eighteen, and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, I drop my hand on the mattress in the space between us and sigh.

“Good night, Sammy.”

The next morning when I wake up, I’m not surprised to find that she’s gone, just like that time when she snuck into my room.

I figure it’s probably best to give her some space, and let her deal with whatever she’s dealing with, but then, two days later, Tara calls me crying, and tells me Sam has left.

_______________________________________________

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec

[caitified]

cait getting slightly injured (maybe a sprain or something) and physio reader being worried and protective 😍

injured

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:slight injury, part 2 of physio!

it’s a tight game against the aces, the kind where every possession feels like life or death. you’re standing near the sideline, heart racing as caitlin drives to the hoop. she gets fouled hard, tumbling to the floor with a loud thud.

your stomach drops. she gets up—of course she does, it’s caitlin—but she’s favoring her left leg, wincing just enough to make your chest tighten.

you don’t wait for anyone to call you over. by the time the refs signal for a time-out, you’re already halfway to her.

“cait, you okay?” you ask, keeping your voice steady even though your pulse is pounding.

“i’m fine,” she says, brushing it off, though her grimace says otherwise.

you cross your arms, giving her that look. “caitlin.”

she rolls her eyes, but you catch the slight wobble in her stance. “it’s just a bruise. i’m not coming off.”

“you’re limping,” you counter, stepping closer, lowering your voice so only she can hear. “please, just let me check you out. you know i’ll make it quick.”

she hesitates, glancing at the scoreboard. the game’s close, but you can see the conflict in her eyes—the way she doesn’t want to scare you, doesn’t want to let the team down.

“two minutes,” she finally mutters, and you nod, relieved.

you follow her to the therapy room, her hand brushing yours briefly as you walk. the moment you’re inside, away from the noise of the arena, you guide her onto the table.

“you’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that?” you say softly, crouching to inspect her leg.

“and you’re too worried,” she teases, but her voice is softer now, too, the bravado from the court fading.

“yeah, well, you don’t make it easy,” you shoot back, running your fingers gently over her knee. she winces slightly, and you look up, catching her gaze. “see? you need to sit out the rest of the game.”

“you’re overreacting,” she argues, but there’s no heat behind it.

“cait,” you say quietly, standing so your faces are level. “i care more about you than this game. please don’t make me fight you on this.”

her expression softens, and she sighs, resting her hand on your hip. “you know you’re too good at this guilt-tripping thing, right?”

“just using my powers for good,” you reply, your lips twitching into a small smile.

she leans forward, resting her forehead against yours for a moment. “i hate sitting out,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing against your side.

“i know,” you whisper, tilting your head to kiss her temple. “but i’d rather have you healthy tomorrow than risking it today.”

she pulls back just enough to kiss you softly, her lips lingering against yours. “fine,” she says when she pulls away. “but only because you asked.”

“because i asked?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“and because i love you,” she adds with a small smirk, making your heart skip.

you laugh, shaking your head as you grab an ice pack. “yeah, yeah. you’re lucky i love you back.”

“so lucky,” she murmurs, her gaze warm as she watches you fuss over her.

short one.. sorry for the lack of fics lately! finals are almost over and i have quite a few fics that just need to be edited. requests are open.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 5

Summary: After their date, Y/N takes Negan back home with her where the two of them try to get lost in one another, but have to tackle some obstacles along the way.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Elizabeth, Joel Miller (Mentions), Tommy Miller (mentions), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155078377

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Oral, Angst, Uncomfortable Situations, Unprotected P in V, etc.

Notes: There is no Joel in this chapter, but he is talked about quite a bit. Thanks to those that are reading the story and also a big thank you to those that comment! It means a lot!

Walking up to the front door of her home had Y/N trembling. It was no doubt a combination of things. The revealing dress that she was wearing likely didn’t help since it had started snowing again and it was freezing. But what also added to her nervousness was the reminder that Joel was the only man she had ever slept with. Continuously that lingered in her mind.

“Careful,” she instructed Negan, her fingers hooking tighter with his knowing that the snow was incredibly slippery as they made their way up to the door. Once she moved up the steps and pulled her keys from the jacket she had on, she realized just how much she really was shaking. Getting the key in the door was hard so she had to focus herself. By the time she pushed the door open, she felt a little resistance from Negan when she headed into the house. Gazing back over her shoulder, she noticed something in Negan’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to let me know you really want me to come inside,” Negan responded, his chiseled jawline flexing when he looked to their hands.

“Is this the part where you tell me you are a vampire now and you can’t come in without me inviting you first?” she teased him, enjoying the way that his thumb swept over the back of her hand. A smirk tugged at his handsome features and she wondered if she had done something wrong.

“No, I just…” Negan paused, his thick eyebrows bouncing up when he shook his head. “I don’t want you to think that I only asked you out because I wanted to have sex with you. I don’t want you to think you have to have sex with me because you feel guilty for things either. I really did just want to spend time with you because I missed you.”

Turning to face Negan fully, she reached for his other hand and politely urged him into the house. Moving forward, she reached out to cup his face in her palms tenderly. Hushing him, she braced her weight against him when she got him to lower down to meet her in a kiss.

“I want you here. Not because I feel guilty, not because I just want a one-night stand or think you do,” she assured him with his eyelids getting heavy and his lips parting. Nuzzling his nose in against hers had her addicted to the feeling of someone so desperate to be near her. “I just want you here.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan licked his lips, stepping back to close the door for her and lock it. Turning on his heel, Negan moved slowly until he was standing before her. His beautiful hazel eyes were locked on hers with his long eyelashes fluttering. Stroking his fingers down over the side of her face had her eyes coming to a tight close and he sighed. “I should have called you. I should have been part of your life and I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You’re here now,” she whispered, reaching up to place her hand in over his, caressing over it.

Fluttering her eyes to an open, she curled her fingers loosely around his wrist and led him toward the stairs. Taking their time, she moved up the stairs heading for her bedroom. Once inside, she allowed him to follow her and she closed the door behind them. Negan stood at the center of the room, his breathing loud as he closely watched her every move. Stroking her fingers over the center of his chest had Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering. It was hard to imagine, but Negan looked incredibly vulnerable right now standing in front of her.

Pushing her fingers underneath the material of his suit jacket had it falling down his arms. The jacket got to his wrists and he had to help her get it off him. Tossing it to the floor, Negan swallowed down hard and felt her plucking apart the remaining buttons of his black, button-down shirt. Untucking the shirt from his pants, she lowered her hands down over the lower part of his abdomen allowing them to flatten against the warmth of his flesh. Negan’s body was so vastly different than Joel’s and it would take some getting used to. Sliding her palms up had her fingers teasing through the dark curls of hair over Negan’s torso. The touch had his abdomen sinking in repeatedly with his deep breaths until she reached his chest. Starting to kiss faintly at the center of his chest had a low rumble of a moan falling from his throat.

At the same time, Negan was helping her work her jacket from her body getting it to fall at their feet with his. There was a desire burning deep within him with every delicate kiss she pressed over his chest. Working with her, they managed to get his shirt off and to the ground as well. What surprised him was how she looked at him. How she took all of him in. Touching his body, learning his tattoos and cherishing him like he was a work of art.

“I feel like a teenager again,” Negan whispered lifting his hands just enough to let them settle against her hips. It had her chuckling against his flesh as she started peppering her kisses over his collarbone toward his shoulders to where his freckles were. The wet kisses against his shoulder had Negan’s eyes coming to a close while he enjoyed her pampering his body. “I’m shaking.”

“We were just out in the snow,” she found it cute that he was insisting that she was making him nervous. Tipping her head back, she looked up at him and saw him smirk. Shaking his head, he lowered down to steal a kiss from her lips.

“No, I’m not shaking because I’m cold,” Negan assured her with a snicker, nipping faintly at her bottom lip. “You fucking do this to me. You always did this to me. I’ve missed you so fucking much and the idea of us finally doing this…I’m kinda fucking nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” she found amusement in that, drawing small shapes down over his body. “You’re the celebrity. If anyone should be nervous, it’s me.”

“Right now I just feel like a boy all over again. In love with a girl that is capable of holding my whole heart in her hand,” Negan reached for one of her hands to bring it up for him to deposit a kiss over the back of it.

Hearing the way he spoke took her breath away. Tipping in, she took her time to pepper small, wet kisses over his chest. Negan wasn’t kidding when he said he was trembling. It was obvious, but she found herself drawn to it. Pressing her fingers against his lower abdomen, she put enough pressure into it to have him back stepping. The back of his knees hit the bed causing him to lower down onto the edge of it. Having his big eyes watching her with him breathing loudly sent chills down her spine. A rush flooded her veins when she brazenly reached behind her to drag the zipper down in her dress. Stepping out of her shoes, she swallowed down hard with the way that Negan had his eyes locked on her. Awe filled them with him pressing his hands at his side to help brace himself.

Doubts did fill her mind at the idea of all of this as the material parted. Afterall, Joel was really the only man she had been with her whole life. She could be terrible with sex and not really know it. Plus, she hadn’t had much practice. In the last few years she had only been with Joel a few times. So she didn’t know if she’d continue to be this brave. Lowering the material down her body had her standing before Negan in only her black panties.

A tremoring breath escaped his lips and he wiggled his finger to urge her closer to him. Hooking his arm around her waist, Negan helped her crawl in over his lap. The warmth of his chest pressed against hers with him palming his large hands up over the lengths of her back, “You take my breath away.”

Hearing that took hers away when he claimed her lips with his again. Instead of just jumping right into things, they took their time caressing over each other’s bodies. Touching each other and getting used to the other all over again. A fire ran through her veins while she stroked at Negan’s scalp with his lips kissing up and over her jawline back toward her neck.

A wet sound fell from Negan’s lips when she shakily moved from his lap to slide down to her knees before him. Keeping her eyes hooked on his, she felt his thumb sweeping over her bottom lip and she kissed at the pad of his thumb. First she took her time getting his belt undone before working open his pants. Kissing at the area right above the hemline of his pants had him sucking in a sharp breath of air. Stroking his fingers through her hair, Negan was amazed with the way she was with him. Rushing things was not something they were doing here. She was pampering his body, cherishing him like he was a gift that had been given to her.

Hooking her fingers into his pants, she used a bit of strength to get them down his hips. Helping her, Negan lifted up so she could get the material of his dark slacks and his boxer briefs down his long slender body. A smacking sound followed with his erection hitting his lower abdomen. Carefully she set his clothes beside her on the floor and he swallowed down hard.

“You are so gorgeous,” she swept her fingers down over Negan’s leg evoking a tight groan from him. Crawling closer to him had his chest rising and falling.

Anticipation flooded his veins as he licked his lips to wet them. Urging his knees apart, she rest herself between them. Palming up over his thighs had him humming out. It was like she was taking her time to learn all of him again. Sweeping her fingers in over his injured knee took his breath away. Delicately she dragged her fingers across the scarring that was done from his surgeries that he had. Usually he was pretty sensitive about that area because it was the one part of his body that he wasn’t comfortable with. Swallowing down hard, he watched as she lowered her head to press faint kisses over his scars. The tenderness in the way she touched him and kissed at his body had Negan tremoring beneath her touch. Most people he wouldn’t be comfortable with doing this, but she genuinely seemed to care for him. And it drew him to her even more.

Having her looking up at him from where she was had chills flooding throughout his body. Other than Lucille, when people were with him they typically looked at him a certain way. It was either excitement with the fact they were hooking up with a celebrity where they only cared about the moment, not him or they just looked at him like he was something to be won. But in her eyes, he saw someone who actually seemed to care. There was an empathy for him that not a lot of people had. But it wasn’t in a way that was meant to make him feel bad. She just didn’t like seeing him hurt.

Palming over the side of her face had her turning into his touch to place a loving kiss over the center of his hand. Broken breaths fell from his lips. It had been so long since someone’s touch had been genuine where the person seemed to actually care for him.

As her kisses started to press over his thighs, he felt the warmth of them growing closer to his center and he let out a tremoring breath. Brushing his thumb against her cheek, he urged her to look up at him breaking the contact of her kisses from his flesh, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” she slurred palming in over the length of Negan’s shaft triggering him to close his eyes tightly. Groaning out, he felt her kisses following the movement and it had him caressing in over her shoulders. It was very sensual with what she was doing. She wasn’t out to prove something. It was just her cherishing his body and pampering him. Dragging her tongue along the length of his shaft had his thighs flexing and a sharp breath escaping him.

A low rumble of a moan fell from his throat when she curled her fingers around the base of his erection. Getting up further on her knees, she led his cock to her lips. Gentle kisses pressed over his manhood and his hips slid in closer to her. Watching her made him breathless. Reaching the tip, her lips parted taking him in. The warmth of her mouth surrounding his sensitive flesh drew out a deep raspy moan from his throat. Hearing that was a gift in itself. It made her want to do this all the more. Caressing over her shoulders and down over the center of her back, he wanted to relax her. Show her his appreciation. At first, her motions were slow. Dropping her head down slightly, taking her time then to pull back and drag her tongue against his erection. Each movement allowed her to take more of him into her mouth. And he was loving it.

Licking his lips, Negan stroked his fingers against the back of her neck. Now he understood the whole comment about everything feeling like the first time. Because this felt exactly like that. Whispering praises to her while she pleasured him only enticed her more. Sweeping her hair from her face, Negan was desperate to watch her. It looked like she enjoyed herself with every bob her head made over his length.

Taking a breath, she pulled her lips not too far away from his cock having his hips arch up toward her. With a smile, she teased kisses at the wet tip. Her tongue slightly dragging out against the soft, velvety skin. Varying between wet kisses and sweeps of her tongue over his body had him tensing up beneath her.

“Your cock is perfect,” she slurred against the tip of it, her eyes locking with his. Teasing her tongue across the patch of skin where the shaft and tip met had him locking up. His eyes closed and he shook. “I haven’t completely forgotten what you liked.”

Sliding his hand up over the side of her neck, Negan dragged his thumb along her jawline and smiled, “So much time has passed, but it feels like fucking yesterday. You are as fucking perfect as you’ve always been.”

Gentle strokes over his body continued, but he knew that in this moment, he didn’t need her to keep pampering him. So he reached for her, being careful in the way that he helped her up from her knees. Standing up, Negan made her gasp when he picked her up in his arms. Surprised filled her eyes at how easily he did it. Showing the strength that he had when he lowered her down at the center of the bed.

Suddenly this all started to feel real again. For a while it just felt like a blast from her past, a memory she had long forgotten but as Negan reached for the hemline of her panties she felt anxious before him. For the last however many years she had been only Joel’s. Yet here she was with someone completely new, someone who knew her just as much as Joel did in the past.

“Negan,” she stopped him before he could tug at the material, having him looking to her. “I know I’m not what I used to be. I’m sure I was cuter when we were younger.”

“No,” Negan hushed her, shaking his head when he started dragging the material down her legs. Getting them from her feet, Negan dropped them beside the bed and gave her a weak smile. Caressing at her lower legs, Negan realized that she was starting to get nervous. Doing his best to calm her, he allowed his touch to raise higher up toward her thighs. Shifting his weight over her, Negan did his best to urge her legs apart. Lowering himself down, he started peppering kisses at the inside of her thigh. Lifting his eyes, he flashed another smile seeing that her pupils were dilated with lust for him. “You are perfect. You’ve always been perfect. Then. Now…”

Hooking his arms under her knees, he pulled her in closer to him allowing his kisses to grow nearer to her core. At first, it was just delicate kisses over her flesh with him still caressing over her thighs. In this position she could comfortably watch him when his tongue pressed out to drag a line down over the length of her sex. Involuntarily her hips arched up toward him and he hummed out. Each kiss over her body grew stronger with the flicks of his tongue following suit. When he started suckling at her flesh, it made her moan out. Grasping tightly to the comforter beneath her, she balled the material up and cooed. Everything felt different with Negan’s short beard against her flesh, but it was a feeling that she very much enjoyed. This was a strong contrast from what she was used to with Joel. Negan seemed so focused and delicate. Working her up to feeling good and Joel was rough and eager to get her body worked up immediately.

Lifting her head, she watched Negan as he pleasured her. It seemed like he was enjoying it with the faint moans vibrating against her flesh. Crying out his name, she felt the strong strokes of his tongue over her sensitive bundle of nerves before it was followed by a slurping sound. As Negan’s right hand found its way between her thighs, she mewled out when his fingers thrust back into her body. With his long slender digits pumping away inside of her damp heat and his mouth focusing on matching that pleasure she felt the room spinning around her.

Licking her lips, she muttered his name feeling Negan hitting that same spot that he had been doing before. Starting to shake against him had him humming out. A euphoric sensation started building at the pit of her stomach with the way he was pleasuring her.

“Negan,” she stammered his name with his moan following and his fingers pulling from her body. It had her squeezing so tightly to the comforter that her knuckles were changing color. At the rate her heart was pounding in her chest she knew that this orgasm was harder than the one she had at the restaurant. Instead of stopping, Negan just buried his head back between her thighs to continue pleasuring her and it had her rocking her hips against his movements. “Fuck Negan…”

“Just enjoy it,” Negan instructed slurring against her flesh going back to work. Dropping one of her hands down, she sank it into his hair and panted. It had been so long since someone focused on her like this and it was driving her mad with desire for Negan.

That was until she heard the sound of something that had even Negan lifting his head up from where he was between her thighs. Dragging his thumb over his bottom lip, Negan cleared his throat and turned to look at her, “Is someone here?”

“The house is just noisy,” she tried to insist only to hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Panicked, she started tugging at the comforters and sheets. Pushing at Negan’s head she had him crawling beneath the material resting his head against her lower abdomen. Just in time she managed to get the blankets to her shoulders when her door pushed open revealing Elizabeth at the door. “Elizabeth. What are you doing here?”

“Sorry mom, I just…” Elizabeth paused holding tightly to the door seeing that her mother looked different. “I was at my friend’s house, but there was a game that I wanted to grab for us to play. It’s in my room. I didn’t want you to think that someone was breaking in or anything.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N didn’t know how to react. Truthfully? She was freaking the fuck out on the inside. This was never a place she wanted to find herself in around her children.

“Mom,” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side, her dark eyes narrowing. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”  

“I’m fine,” Y/N alerted her daughter desperately wanting her to leave the room. Discomfort flooded her veins knowing that underneath the blanket and sheet was a completely naked Negan. Hiding him was hard because Negan was a big guy, but she just hoped that Elizabeth didn’t catch on. “Have a good night honey.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Elizabeth was unsure of how to respond to the way her mother was acting. Right now Y/N wished that her daughter wasn’t so perceptive.

“Nothing is wrong. I’m just…really tired,” Y/N lied knowing that by the expression over her daughter’s face that Elizabeth was suspicious. “Just call me in the morning and tell me how everything was. Okay?”

“You have someone in there with you, don’t you?” Elizabeth stepped forward immediately making things all the more awkward. Negan buried his nose in against her abdomen trying to remain still, but Elizabeth wasn’t dumb. “I don’t understand. Who are you with? I know it’s not dad because I just saw him right before I came here.”

“Honey, this isn’t really the best time to be questioning things,” Y/N attempted to stop her daughter from the upcoming lecture that she knew was coming. Elizabeth’s eyes fell to the clothes that were at the center of the room and Y/N started to panic. “I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t think you’d be home. And I just…”

“After the other night with the four of us as a family, you’re doing this?” Elizabeth snapped at her mother causing Y/N to tense up. “I thought we were working on becoming a family again. The four of us. Yet, you’re here sleeping with someone other than dad?”

“Can you give me a few minutes and then we can talk? Because this is starting to feel really inappropriate,” Y/N asked of her daughter who simply folder her arms out in front of her chest with her chocolate brown eyes giving Y/N what looked like a death glare. “I don’t feel like that’s fair Elizabeth. Your dad dated someone else for years and you didn’t act like this. Just because your dad is single right now doesn’t mean…”

“You’re not dad,” Elizabeth interrupted her mother and it had a warmth flooding throughout Y/N’s veins. It was both demeaning that her daughter was lecturing her about having a life outside of Joel and embarrassing that Negan was in here to hear it all. “I know how you’ve felt about dad for a very long time. After everything with dad trying, inviting you over to the event…you’re doing this to him? To us?”

“I’m not cheating on your father Elizabeth,” Y/N pled with her daughter not understanding why it was leading to this. “We’ve been divorced for three years and separated for four. Your father had plenty of time to make a move and he didn’t. We’re not together Elizabeth and me finding comfort with someone else isn’t me trying to hurt you. Or anyone for that matter.”

“Who is it?” Elizabeth seemed furious eyeballing the bed to look over the shape that was beneath the blankets. “Is it Uncle Tommy? He’s been acting really weird and it would explain why he is running away at all hours of the night.”

“I adopted your Uncle Tommy when I was eighteen. Do you know how weird that would be?” Y/N scoffed, pulling the comforter in closer to her body feeling even more uneasy with Elizabeth stepping toward the bed. “Please honey, just give me a minute to get dressed and come out to talk to you.”

“I’m not a baby mom. I’m seventeen. Come on Uncle Tommy,” Elizabeth demanded who she assumed to be with her mom to come out. “Show yourself.”

“It’s not your Uncle Tommy! And I don’t even understand why you would begin to think that I have anything going on with him,” Y/N was disgusted at the idea of just seeing Tommy in that way because to her he was almost like her own child.

“Who else do you know that’s a man,” Elizabeth was furious in the way that she was talking. “Tommy, show your face before I start hitting.”

“Please don’t start hitting,” a rumble of a voice muttered from beneath the blankets and it shocked Elizabeth who stumbled back realizing that the voice was in fact not Uncle Tommy. “I’ll show my face if you promise not to start hitting.”

Carefully adjusting his body, Negan pulled the blankets and the sheets down far enough to reveal his head and his shoulders to Y/N’s daughter after he crawled up beside Y/N on the bed. Negan’s hair was a mess with a flush of color in his face. Curling his fingers tighter around the comforter, Negan cleared his throat and nodded his head. Looking to Y/N, Negan knew that there was fear in her eyes when Elizabeth saw what she did.

“Hello,” Negan broke the silence feigning a smile, his dimples big when the color drained completely from Elizabeth’s face seeing her celebrity crush there before her in her mother’s bed. “It’s nice to meet you Elizabeth, I heard a lot about you. All good things. Your mother loves you very much.”

“You’re fucking Negan Smith? How is Negan Smith even here right now?” Elizabeth snapped noticing the lost expression flooding into her mother’s features. It made things weird because Elizabeth wasn’t even acknowledging what Negan had said to her. “I have to be dreaming. This can’t be real because there is no logical explanation that explains why Negan Smith is in your bedroom right now.”

“I can answer a few of those,” Negan somewhat waved his hand about drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to him. “We’re not necessarily…fucking.”

Negan looked to see that Y/N buried herself under the covers to hide her embarrassment from her daughter and it had her groaning out, “I’m in this bedroom because I came home to visit my mother for the holidays. I ran into your mother the other day and we agreed to have dinner. You’re not dreaming and I’m very sorry this is the way that we met. I wanted to meet you at some point soon, but this really wasn’t the way that I was expecting.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Elizabeth was embarrassed with having her meltdown in front of the town celebrity who was attempting to be exceedingly kind to her. “You slept with Negan Smith knowing how I felt about things? Do you know how weird that’s going to be telling people considering all my friends know that I have the biggest crush on him? You never even acted like you felt a certain way toward him mom.”

“Again, I hate to speak for your mother,” Negan began, his hazel eyes empathetic drawing Elizabeth to look to him “But your mother and I dated long before her and your father did. Kind of. So I don’t think she did this to make you feel bad. It’s just we had something between us when we were younger. And she probably didn’t want to tell you about it because she was married to your father and didn’t want to make things weird. I’m also very honored that I’m your celebrity crush, but you are…kind of too young for me honey. And considering how I feel about your mother…”

“How do you feel about my mother?” Elizabeth blurt out and Negan’s hazel eyes got wide. Looking to Y/N who lowered the blankets slightly to him, Negan simply shrugged and cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know yet. I just know that I spent most of my early life in love with your mother. I went a lot of years without her in my life and now that I’m here for the holiday I’d like to spend as much time as I can with her,” Negan was honest with Elizabeth who seemed to be between the stages of shocked, embarrassed and angry all at the same time. “I’d also like to continue to be in your mother’s life somehow because I missed her.”

“How? You’re a famous baseball player,” Elizabeth reminded Negan who gave a simple nod and then tipped his head from side to side.

“Yes and no. I have one more season left,” Negan declared, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I’m really sorry if finding us here like this upset you, but I promise you this wasn’t anything negative or of ill intent. I care about your mother and I’d like to be able to talk to you in better situations so we can get to know one another better.”

“Elizabeth!” someone was calling out from downstairs and Y/N assumed that it was her friend that she had come with. Hopefully that friend didn’t follow her upstairs.

“I’ll be right down,” Elizabeth called out, a rush of heat flooding into her tanned flesh. It looked like there was so much she wanted to say but didn’t know what to say. Swallowing down hard, Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and took a step back. “Whatever this is, I’ll come back tomorrow and we can talk about it. Preferably with you two dressed.”

“I don’t know if he will still be here tomorrow morning,” Y/N reasoned with her daughter, but Negan held his hand out and nodded.

“I’ll stay,” Negan agreed to the talk that Elizabeth asked for. “We can talk about whatever you want tomorrow. I promise.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth looked between both her mother and Negan, her eyes forcing themselves to look down at the ground. “I’m sorry for barging in. If I would have known you were with someone, I would have never done that.”

And with that, Elizabeth backstepped out of the bedroom and quickly took off down the stairs. When they heard the door open and shut, Y/N dropped her head back. An overwhelmed sound followed and she looked to Negan with pure embarrassment flooding her features.

“I am so sorry,” she apologized to Negan who laid in beside her looking up at the ceiling. “That had to be so weird and I would completely understand if you wanted to leave right now. I will come up with a good excuse for things tomorrow and…”

“I don’t want to leave,” Negan interrupted her, the lines in his forehead growing as he spoke. “Unless you want me to leave?”

“God no,” she shook her head, sliding in beside Negan with their heads touching. Her breathing was loud and she thought about the things that her daughter said. “Am I a bad mom for not telling her about us when we were younger?”

“Why would that make you a bad mom?” Negan’s nose wrinkled. “Mothers and fathers don’t tell their children about the people that they screwed around with before…or after their parents. She’ll be jealous and maybe embarrassed for a while, but she will understand it eventually.”

“You didn’t sign up for this,” she pointed out to Negan who simply shrugged. This was the last way she would have liked Elizabeth and Negan to meet.

“Life is always throwing surprises at you,” Negan suggested reaching for her to allow her to rest her head over the center of his chest to get comfortable. “I can tell that she’s daddy’s little girl by the way that she talks.”

“Yeah. The children both love him,” she stated with a long sigh cuddling her face in against Negan’s chest. “And I don’t mind that they love him. It’s better that they do. Joel is a good father. He always was. He loved them a lot. I let them have that. They just got really mad at me when we got separated. When Joel started dating someone they didn’t put up much of a fight. Kind of just dealt with it. Yet the moment I might be with someone else…”

“Explosion of emotions,” Negan teased releasing a long exhale with his fingers caressing over her shoulders. “Who was Joel dating?”

“Tess Servopoulos,” she stated hearing Negan choke out at her answer. “You remember her?”

“Scary Tess?” Negan’s eyebrows were arched as he looked toward Y/N. “Ball busting Tess? The girl that was a year or two older than us that had no problem kicking a guy in the balls if he looked at her the wrong way?”

“Might have been before my time,” she was amused at Negan’s reaction to who Joel was dating. “You didn’t like her?”

“I never pissed her off, so she was fine with me,” Negan informed her with a dramatic expression and he shook his head. “Joel still has his balls after they broke up? That woman had some serious rage issues when we were younger. If I was putting together a hit team, I think I would have gotten her on my team.”

“She didn’t seem that bad,” Y/N laughed at how dramatic Negan was being with the way he was talking. “Joel really liked her. At least I thought they did when they were together.”

“That is so hard to picture because Joel hated her when we were in high school,” Negan thought back realizing that Y/N was younger than him and Joel. “Fuck. I can’t believe that Joel dated scary Tess. I almost want to ask him about it.”

“I’m going to be getting an earful eventually about what Elizabeth saw here tonight from him. So maybe if you are still around you can talk to him then,” she was being sarcastic as her fingers played with the dark curls of hair over Negan’s chest. “If I were you, I’d probably run right now. I have so much baggage and you’ve already seen parts of it.”

“I like your parts,” Negan spoke softly, letting out a boisterous laugh when she poked him in the side. “But it’s a good thing you aren’t me because I don’t wanna run away. I’m willing to deal with what I have to in order to be around you again.”

“You are something else,” she found herself in awe of him, bracing her hand over his chest so she could balance herself enough to lean in over Negan to meet him in a lingering kiss between the two of them. “Well now that the moment we were building up to is over, I have some pie that I made earlier. Would you like to have some?”

“I was just eating some pie,” Negan snickered only to have her playfully hit him in the stomach again. His raspy laugh grew louder this time and he shook his head. “Yes, I would love some of the pie that you made.”

Carefully getting up from the bed, Negan watched her head over toward her dresser to grab a t-shirt and some pajama pants. Pulling on his black boxer briefs, Negan then reached for his dress shirt to pull it over his arms. Leaving it unbuttoned, he stopped at the bottom of the bed hearing her huff when she turned to face him.

“It’s not fair, how are you still so fucking hot like that?” she questioned getting another laugh from Negan who reached for her to wrap her up in his arms. “It’s like, you’re even more fuckable like that.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Negan hummed kissing her multiple times. Leaning back, his eyes locked with hers and he made an overwhelmed expression. “I think your daughter walking in on us might have been worse than my father walking in on us that one time. I was scared she was about to start beating the shit outta me.”

“I could honestly see it,” she agreed with Negan, patting him at the center of his chest. Leading him down to the kitchen, she watched as he walked over toward the corner of the cabinets where Joel had been earlier bracing his hands on the counter. “What kind of pie would you like? I have eggnog pumpkin, pecan, chocolate silk and cinnamon apple.”

“Why don’t you get a piece of each and we will share them all?” Negan suggested with her giving him an impressed expression. Doing what he asked, she warmed the ones that were necessary and laid them out across the island in her kitchen. Grabbing both of them some milk and forks, she moved in beside Negan and saw him eyeing over the pies. “I love that you still bake. We started that together.”

“I know,” she saw him take some of the cinnamon apple pie, humming out when he swallowed it down and gave a thumbs up. “Do you still bake?”

“Fuck yeah I do. I’m an amazing cook and baker,” Negan didn’t shy from showing off when he went for the eggnog pumpkin pie next. “We should bake something together. The two of us. Not that you need any more sweets with all that you have, but I think that would be fun.”

“If you want to,” she wasn’t going to deny him the opportunity to cook something with her. She liked spending time with him and she wasn’t ready to stop yet. Grabbing some of the pumpkin for herself, she saw Negan take a bite of the pecan. “What do you like best so far?”

Considering his answer, Negan went for a larger bite of the chocolate silk. Holding it up to her lips, he allowed her to take the bite. A surprised sound fell from her lips when Negan’s lips covered hers, his tongue forcefully brushing out against hers.

“Wow,” she snickered watching him wipe his thumb across his bottom lip to collect the remainder of the pie from his lips. “That was different.”

“Chocolate silk,” Negan pointed to the piece of pie that was before her and it had her face flushing over with warmth. Nudging her playfully with his hip, Negan gave her a wink and then went for another bite of the chocolate silk. “You’re cute. You know that?”

“It’s been a long time since someone called me cute,” she retorted with Negan taking a sip of his milk. “But thank you. You’re pretty cute too.”

“I know,” Negan snorted after it made her laugh. Things were much more relaxed with Negan than she was used to. Here he was standing almost completely shirtless at the center of her kitchen in his boxer briefs and they were just eating sweets together. “This has been an interesting night. It went a way I didn’t think it would, but I’ve enjoyed it.”

“I feel like you’re just trying to be nice,” she suggested assuming things had to be awkward from the start. “You started the night off with my angry ex-husband and then ended it with my daughter. If anything, this night has been awkward at best.”

“I can handle Joel. I always could. And I could also handle your daughter who has a crush on me,” Negan stressed, placing his hand in over the center of his chest after setting his milk back down on the counter. “I have had lots of fun tonight. And not just because we fucked around. The night is still young though and I did promise your daughter that I would be here tomorrow. So, we have a lot of the night left together.”

“I’m just waiting for my son to make an appearance now,” she joked, poking at the pie that was in front of her.

“And if that happens, I’ll happily meet your son,” Negan snickered, moving forward to nuzzle his nose in against the side of her neck before playfully pressing kisses against her flesh. “I like kids. I always wanted kids. Life just didn’t work out for me the way I planned.”

Turning toward Negan after setting her fork down, she felt his hands settling in over her hips. Stroking her fingers over his exposed chest had her questioning things. This was all really too good to be true. Everything just felt…relaxed and nice. It wasn’t something that she was used to. At least not for a very long time.

“Let’s clean this up and make some cupcakes?” Negan suggested with a huff, tipping down to deposit another kiss over her forehead. Sliding his hands up her body, he cupped her face in his rough palms and led her to stare into his hazel eyes. “I need you to loosen up and relax. We’re here. I’m happy to be here. So let’s keep taking a trip down memory fucking lane. Let’s bake some cupcakes. And talk.”

“If that’s what you want to do,” she wasn’t going to fight him on this whole thing. Spending time with him sounded nice. It was the most laid back things had been in her life for a long time. And one thing she wasn’t feeling was lonely. Which was a nice thing. After giving her a wink, Negan collected the dishes that they had and headed over toward the sink. Without having to be asked, Negan was doing the dishes. Cleaning them and then putting them into the dishwasher. That alone was a huge difference between Negan and Joel. In all her years being with Joel, Joel was never the type to immediately clean up and if he did the dishes, it was only because she nagged him long enough to do it. “What kind of cupcakes do you want?”

“You have me in a chocolate mood,” Negan responded with a pondering expression when he looked over his shoulder at her. Turning on his heel, he braced his hands against the counter stretching out his lengthy abdomen leaving her a nice view of the v-line that led to the top of his boxer briefs. “Do you have candy canes?”

“Of course,” she moved around the kitchen to pull out the box of candy canes that she had bought not long before. Extending his hand out, Negan grabbed the box and gave her a thumbs up. “Chocolate cupcakes with a peppermint frosting?”

“Right up my alley,” Negan gave her a wink, setting the box down. Amusement flooded her veins seeing Negan opening the cabinets to see what was where. Instead of just asking, he was getting comfortable with her kitchen and it charmed her. As he set out what they needed with utensils and bowls, she went for the ingredients that they would need from the pantry and refrigerator. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” she looked over her shoulder to see that Negan was looking down at the gingerbread family that she had done with Joel and the children. “Oh, we did that the other day when I made fresh gingerbread cookies. Elizabeth wanted us to keep it. So it’s being displayed in the kitchen.”

“The sad thing is that I immediately knew this was Joel. His style hasn’t changed much since high school,” Negan snickered, waving his finger about at the gingerbread cookie that Joel had made. Stealing one final glance, Negan went back to preparing things. When they both returned to the island in her kitchen, she gave him a once over and smirked. “What?”

“I’m just not used to this whole thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do this with someone,” she mused working with Negan to grab what they would need for the cupcakes first. Heading over to the stove, she turned it on and came back to see Negan was already preparing the ingredients. “My children like to help with the decorating, but never the baking process. Well, they did when they were children. But that’s it really.”

“Tell me about them,” Negan directed her to talk about her family and he saw her take a moment to think about things.

“Well, you met Elizabeth tonight. Daddy’s little girl to the core. Joel has called her Ellie her whole life, but she has gotten to the age where she wants to be called Liz. She plays softball at her school. She’s got a hell of a throw on her. She likes the girly things, but she’s also into sports and video games,” she rambled on about her daughter and Negan would glance over at her every so often to show that he was listening while they worked together. “She’s also incredibly smart. Way smarter than me and her father ever were. I see her going places. I worry sometimes about her since she’s so close to the age I was when I got pregnant, but she’s really not like that. She has crushes, but no boyfriend or anything. I think her future means more to her. And she’s a really good sister to her little brother. Peter is a typical teenage boy. Loves video games, sports, being silly. He plays baseball too. I think it’s more so to get his father’s attention, but he’s trying. And he’s attempting to learn the guitar too like Joel.”

“So Ellie is Joel’s favorite,” Negan commented which had her shaking her head. “It sounds like it.”

“I don’t know if she’s Joel’s favorite. I think she just has a strong bond with him since she was his first,” she thought aloud hating to think that Joel had a favorite. “Peter is just desperate for something to cling onto with his dad. We split when Peter was nine and he misses the family aspect of things. Joel is always so busy with things that Peter doesn’t really get the attention that he wants.”

“And why did the two of you get divorced?” Negan was curious throwing caution to the wind since she might get upset with that question. “You don’t have to answer that question.”

“Uh, you’re fine,” she felt heat flooding into her face. There was the thought that she shouldn’t focus so much on Joel, but Negan seemed to be genuinely curious. “I’d love to blame one thing, but I don’t know if I can. Joel’s parents died right after graduation for him. Immediately Tommy was the thing that he worried about. He made the decision to stay home and take care of Tommy instead of letting him go into foster care. Which meant he had to give up his full ride to school on that scholarship. It meant he gave up focusing on football and music. Which you know how much those two things meant to him.”

“I think everyone did,” Negan agreed with her from what he remembered when they were younger. Joel was so good at football that many of the people in town thought he would become a big football player. “I think he always planned to get famous with football so he could become a singer. Which I think was his real passion. Unless I was wrong.”

“I think he loved them both,” Y/N didn’t know if he loved one or the other more. The music just stuck with him more. “I think he was happy he had two things he was good at. That way he always had a fallback.”

Talking about Joel would have probably pissed Joel off. Especially since he seemed so irritated about her spending time with Negan.

“Joel adopted Tommy. Took on his father’s company and started working immediately. And then Elizabeth happened. It wasn’t on purpose. I was taking the pill, but it just happened. My parents wanted me to get an abortion because they expected more from me, but I couldn’t. They kicked me out and wanted nothing to do with me. So that was another person that Joel had to take into his home. I think he figured once Tommy was eighteen, he would be able to have the chance to finally make something of himself. I just don’t think he thought he would be a father by then. Everything was really good. I adopted Tommy too. We were a family. It was rough, but we were doing it. By the time Tommy turned eighteen, I was pregnant with Peter and I think life just got so busy. Tommy wanted to go off into the army because he wanted to change the world. It was a lot of stress. Joel tried to go to a community college, but it just didn’t work. So he kept being a contractor running his father’s business.”

Biting down on her bottom lip, she paused and noticed that Negan looked to her wondering if she was okay, “I think I was just the only one that realized life wasn’t going to be what I wanted it to be. I gave up the things I wanted, he did the same, but I adjusted to it and he didn’t. I got a degree, accepted the first job that would take me. Money was money. Joel was miserable. He knew what he was capable of having and life didn’t allow him that. So we fought. A lot. I was happy. He wasn’t in the last few years. And it wore pretty heavy on me. I think the more he let it linger, the more he realized what he lost. I think he was really happy for a while. It’s just toward the end of our marriage that he started showing signs of being miserable. At least, I think that’s what it was.”

“You had big dreams too though,” Negan reminded her of what she wanted when she was younger noticing that she didn’t seem to focus on herself as much as she did Joel. “You wanted to travel. I remember you always had your camera out and you wanted to be a journalist. More than anything you wanted out of here. So if anyone understood what he was going through, it was you.”

“I suppose so,” she didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t wrong. More than anything she dreamt of getting away from here when she was younger. She wanted to be more than what she was, but once she was a mother she had to change her way of thinking. “Joel was a really good father throughout though. He kept that he was miserable from the children really good.”

“Hmm…” Negan breathed out loudly, reaching for the mixer once they had put all the ingredients together to make the chocolate cupcakes. “I take it sex wasn’t very good with Joel?”

“Negan,” she laughed with him tipping his head to the side.

“I’m just saying. You seemed really shocked by the way I could make you orgasm tonight which tells me that you’ve never orgasmed like that before,” Negan recalled back to the two previous moments earlier tonight. “It’s okay if Joel wasn’t good at sex.”

“Joel was good at sex,” she corrected Negan who smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “The orgasms were good, but that…”

“You didn’t know you were a squirter,” Negan blurt out having her chuckle at his outwardness. “It takes time and dedication. Focus to make a girl squirt and not all of them do. Some of them are scared to do it because they think it’s something bad, but it’s not.”

“I can see the ego never left you,” she smacked Negan on the ass when he turned on the mixer. Moving around him, she got what they needed for the frosting and started to prepare what she could now. Once he was done, Negan helped her lay out the cupcake wrappers before she poured in the mixture. “What about your life? You’ve gotten to see the world. What was it like? As exciting as we pictured when we were kids?”

“It depends,” Negan answered with a sigh. “If Lucille was with me, it was nice. If I was alone, it was lonely. And it’s not really like I could enjoy it. I was working when I was travelling. So a lot of the world that I saw was hotels and flying.”

“Yeah, but I saw from the stuff Elizabeth would pull up that you got that car that you dreamt of having since we were kids. Lots of cars. A big house and everything you could ever dream of,” she elbowed him playfully thinking that those were things he would be proud of. Instead, Negan swallowed hard and looked down at her with sadness in his eyes. “All the money in the world can’t be too bad.”

“All the money in the world and I still couldn’t save my wife from dying of cancer,” Negan countered having the color drain from her face realizing what she said was incredibly awful when he put it that way. “I’m not trying to be a dick with that answer. I’m sorry if it came out that way, I just…what good is money if you lose the love of your life anyways? I have all the money I could ever want, but no one to spend it with. You can’t imagine the kind of loneliness…” Negan paused, his thick eyebrows furrowing with a shake of his head. “Never mind. You understand the loneliness just fine. Just a different kind. I’m sorry for that.”

“Broken recognizes broken I guess,” she breathed out, grabbing the cupcakes to put them in the oven. Setting the timer, she turned to him and could see that he was going through so many emotions just considering what to say next. “I’m sorry I said that Negan. It’s just when you’re one of the little people, the idea of having lots of money and getting to do anything sounds really good.”

“I understand that. I’m sorry,” Negan cleared his throat and nodded his head. His lips parted and he shrugged his shoulders. “Just from where I’m standing, I think Joel is a moron. Because more than anything, Lucille and I would have loved to have children. We tried, but she was sick for a long time. And we never had any. So it’s crazy to me. I would have loved having his life. He has everything I don’t.”

“Had. Not has,” she corrected his statement feeling a sense of sadness behind it. “I wasn’t what he wanted.”

“He’s an idiot,” Negan noted, stepping forward to palm in over the side of her face. “He had everything I wanted when I was younger and he let it slip through his fingers.”

A tremoring exhale fell from her lips when Negan lowered down again to bring their lips together in what was a fervent kiss. His thumb swept over her jawline when they parted and he looked to the timer that she had set.

“Do you still have a camera?” Negan’s question surprised her and made her smile. “You do, don’t you?”

“I have one. It’s not the best considering my situation, but I take it with me to special events with the children. I just haven’t really played with it too much,” she responded with a shrug of her shoulders knowing that she used to carry a camera with her everywhere. “Why?”

“Go get it,” Negan instructed, moving over toward the other bowl that he had grabbed. “I’ll start the frosting. You go get the camera and come back down.”

“Fine,” she did as he told her, heading up the stairs and leaving him alone in the kitchen. Going to her room in search of her camera, she hoped that it was charged. When she found her camera bag, she pulled out the camera and headed downstairs with it. Turning it on, she was thankful when she saw that there was power to it and that she had a memory card. “Here it is.”

“Not too shabby,” Negan reached out for the camera to look it over. Adjusting a few things, Negan lifted the camera and took a photo of her causing her to groan out. “What?”

“I look like shit,” she frowned and he immediately shook his head. It felt strange having Negan taking photos of her. “I do.”

“You could never look like shit,” Negan avowed with a huff, allowing her to take the camera away from him. Wrinkling his nose, Negan gave a wink before going back to work on the frosting. Hearing the sound of the camera made him smile. Stealing a quick look at her, he could tell that she seemed happy while she started snapping photos of him. Stopping what he was doing, he turned toward her and rubbed his hands together. “I want you to start using that again. Whenever you can, take that camera out and take photos. That was the thing that made you so happy when we were younger. Writing and taking photos. Start doing the things that make you happy.”

“Smile for me,” she ordered of him, lifting her camera up. Expectantly waiting for him Negan flashed her one of the biggest, cheesiest smiles that he could give. Taking the photo had her giggling, but she immediately shook her head afterwards. “A real smile.”

“What? That wasn’t real enough for you,” Negan snickered, stepping forward to loosely hook his arm around her waist to pull her in against him. “I thought you liked me as I was. Cute. Charming. Silly. That was a genuine smile.”

“You’re right, you are cute all the time,” she agreed with him, keeping a tight hold of her camera in one hand. With the other she dragged her thumb across Negan’s bottom lip. Kissing at the pad of her finger had her breathing loudly. “I think you know what your smile is capable of though.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re capable of,” Negan slurred with a long sigh, his eyes narrowing when he stepped back. Doing as she asked of him originally, he allowed her to take a photo, but then he got serious. And even though he wasn’t smiling, she seemed to enjoy getting a few close up photos of him. Resting at the corner of the kitchen cabinets, Negan stretched his hands out and placed them on the counter. Modeling for her was no big deal. He was used to people taking photos of him. “I know you had to change your life and alter what your childhood dreams were. But that didn’t mean you had to give up the things that made you happy. You should have kept writing and taking photos.”

“I wish it was that easy,” she stammered, lowering the camera down. Sure, it sounded good, but life never really gave her that chance.

“It is that easy,” Negan contended, biting down on his bottom lip. The lines in his forehead grew with him shaking his head. “Someone in your life should have been here telling you all along that you needed to have things that made you happy. They should have been cheering you on to do these things. Telling you to make time for yourself as well as others.”

“You know,” she began, stuttering back on her words when she lowered the camera down completely. Guilt started eating away at her with a lump growing in her throat. “You really shouldn’t be as nice to me as you are being Negan. I don’t deserve it. You know that, right?”

“Says who?” Negan tipped his head to the side, waiting on her answer.

“You don’t have to keep acting like this. I fucked up when I did what I did. I ruined our friendship all those years ago. I broke your heart,” she recollected provoking a long sigh from him. Setting her camera aside, she realized her thoughts were eating away at her. After everything he said to her at the sports bar, she couldn’t help but think she was a piece of shit for how things went down. “You shouldn’t be this good to me with what I did to you.”

“Apparently I missed the rulebook I guess,” Negan shrugged, pushing forward to move before her. Looking up at him with big eyes, she felt sad. Sad to know that he carried all those negative and hurt feelings with him for so long. Shuddering, she looked down to see that Negan’s fingers were hooking with hers when he reached out for them. “Here’s the thing. You feel fucking guilty. And I understand that. But I wouldn’t give up the life that I was given with Lucille. I loved her, very fucking much.”

“I know,” she breathed, squeezing her fingers firmly around his. Closing the distance between them, Negan wanted her to keep her eyes on his.

“You can’t blame yourself for something that was meant to happen. I loved my wife. I wish I could have had more time with her, but the world didn’t allow me that. And I know that you would never give up the life that you had with your children,” Negan emphasized his words showing her that he understood that their lives went in different ways. “What was meant to happen, did. I can’t be mad at that.”

“But I should have talked to you. You were the biggest part of my life and I just…” she started, but Negan hushed her, lowering his head down to press his forehead against hers.

“Listen. I don’t care about the past. We both made mistakes,” Negan admitted, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I just know how miserable I was without you in my life. I know I should have been here for you every step of the way. You were part of what made me whole. Part of what made me, me. What happened between us was just as much my fault as it was yours. But what I know? I don’t want to lose you from my life again.”

Everything he said took her breath away. In only a few hours, it felt like they were back to what they were when they were younger. And she still didn’t think she deserved that, but Negan didn’t seem to care. Hovering his lips over hers, it felt like he was about to kiss her again but was interrupted by the sound of the timer going off for the cupcakes.

“Fuck,” Negan hummed, looking toward the stove. Motioning him to wait, she grabbed something to get the cupcakes out of the oven. Setting them out to cool, she turned the oven off and returned back to Negan.

Grabbing the sides of his opened button down, she tugged slightly at them getting a smile over his handsome lips. And there were those gorgeous dimples that got her every time. Using her strength, she lowered him down to her to bring his lips to hers. Shivers ran down her spine with Negan laughing against her lips. Maybe she should have stopped things. Hell, this was just their first day back to spending time together, but it didn’t matter. Right now, everything felt right in the world with him kissing her. It had been a long time since she felt this good.

“Follow me,” Negan instructed, moving around her keeping his fingers linked with hers. Heading for the stairs had a breath catching in her throat.

“What about the cupcakes?” she knew that they were right in the middle of making them. Her heart skipped a beat when Negan looked back at her with an amused smirk.

 “They need time to cool anyways,” Negan hushed her taking her into her bedroom. Closing the door, Negan locked it behind him this time while she stood waiting. Turning on his heel, Negan started to shimmy out of the shirt that he was wearing. “Just so no one can surprise us this time.”

Breathing loudly, she watched as the material dropped to Negan’s wrists. Unhurriedly, he got the shirt off and dropped it to the ground. Stepping forward, Negan reached for the bottom of the t-shirt she was wearing. Noticing the way she grew nervous made him smile.

“Everything will be okay,” Negan promised her, starting to lift the material. Once it got right under her breasts, she shakily lifted her arms to let him pull it from her. Dropping her t-shirt beside them on the floor, Negan dragged his tongue out across his bottom lip. Stealing another glance at her naked form took his breath away. “I think you’re perfect.”

Words were hard to form. The warmth of Negan’s fingertips started at her lower abdomen. His caress was slow, building up the sensation as they traced up over her ribs. Just the way Negan looked at her made her feel like the only person in the world. It was obvious what he was doing to her. There was no hiding it from him.

“Now you’re the one shaking,” Negan pointed out, closing the distance between them. Warmth radiated from his body before hers. Curling his arm around her, Negan’s fingers settled at the small of her back tracing over her skin. With how close they were she felt the curls of hair over his chest tickling at her flesh.

Caressing up over her back, between her shoulders and down again, Negan let his fingers hook into her panties. Pushing them down, he let them drop to her ankles. Covering her bottom with the warmth of his hands, he tested the flesh in his palms and hummed out. It had her eyelashes fluttering to a close, her lips parting and a soft sight escaped them.

Using his strength, Negan picked her up in his arms and carried her over toward the center of the bed. Laying her down, he was careful in the way he moved her. Watching his every movement, her pupils dilated with desire with him pushing his fingers into the hemline of his boxer briefs. Getting the material down his body had her lips parting. Even though she knew his body from when they were younger, it was so much different now. Crawling in over her, Negan heard the nervous sound that fell from her parted lips.

“You don’t have to be nervous with me,” Negan assured her, resting himself comfortably between her thighs. Tracing his rough fingertips over her shoulders had a smile tugging at his handsome features. Following his finger’s movements, Negan deposited soft, gentle kisses over her shoulder toward her collar bone. The sound of her breathing grew louder with his kisses sliding in over her neck and then over her jawline. Right now his aim was to make her feel comfortable. Meeting her bottom lip, Negan pressed delicate kisses over it. It had her eyes slamming shut with a whimper falling from her throat. Bracing himself on his arms as they rest at her sides, Negan’s kisses were passionate and focused. Meticulous in the way he was comforting her. “I would never hurt you.”

“Negan,” she pressed her hand in over the center of his chest suddenly feeling very self-conscious about herself. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so honest, but she felt like this needed to be put out there. “I’ve only been with Joel. I might not be any good at this because he’s the only man I’ve been with.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” he interrupted with another charming smile, trying to calm her instead of having her panic. “I don’t care how many people you’ve been with. I know how I feel about you. All I need to know is that you want this.”

“I do,” she whispered without second guessing things. More than anything she knew in that moment that she wanted to be with him. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing with you could disappoint me,” Negan professed, once again taking her breath away. Just with his words alone he had her hooked. Starting to press kisses over her jawline, Negan knew that he wanted to focus on her. Relax her enough so she could stop worrying about things. Gradually his kisses led to her lips. Each caress of his lips over hers was filled with so much passion behind it that it had her pulse leaping in her throat. Soft bucking motions of his hips against hers had her tremoring beneath him. “I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember.”

Stroking her hand down over the side of Negan’s face had his long eyelashes fluttering to a close. Just having her touch him with that tenderness could affect him that much. Nibbling at her bottom lip, Negan balanced his weight on his left arm. Dropping his right hand, he palmed in over her warmth triggering a moan to fall from her. Caressing at her body, Negan wanted to make sure that she was still okay with this before reaching between them.

Whimpering out, she felt the tip of his manhood at her entrance. Instead of rushing it, Negan got comfortable again over her. Hooking his fingers with hers, Negan pressed her left hand down against the bed. Locking their eyes, he wanted to watch everything when he pushed his hips forward. Tipping her head back, she purred out but didn’t close her eyes. She wanted to be connected with Negan in this moment. The expression he gave her as he slowly sank into her was unlike anything she had seen from him. They both moaned in unison with just that small amount of him entering her. Bracing himself, Negan knew that he was going to be a mess if he didn’t hold himself together.

Allowing her to get comfortable, Negan curled his hands under her shoulders bringing them closer. Starting to kiss her as he began to roll his hips, Negan took his time with her. Not wanting to rush this. This was a moment he waited most of his life for. He wanted it to last. He wanted to remember it. The way she looked. The way she felt. How she panted his name softly with every move he made.

This was all very romantic. Something she wouldn’t have imagined with Negan’s personality or the kind of man that he was, but she liked it. It was close contact. His chest pressed against hers. The base of his erection grinding against her clitoris adding to the friction of his thrusts. It was a full, stretching sensation that she enjoyed very much. Sinking her fingers into his damp hair, she loved the way he praised her and said exactly what she wanted to hear in a moment of being made love to.

Kissing him took away all the worries and the fears she had in that moment. What he was doing not only made her body feel good, but it made her mind feel that way too. Scratching lightly over his shoulders and down his back led to her fingers squeezing at his bottom. Having the muscles flexing and relaxing beneath her touch with every roll forward of his hips turned her on more than it should of.

“This is everything I’ve wanted for so fucking long,” Negan whispered, his lips hovering over hers. Muted moans were escaping him causing her to tremor beneath him. There was a fire building up inside of her with his steady movements. “You are so beautiful.”

Crying out, she kissed at Negan’s collarbone, nipping faintly at the skin with her hips arching up toward him. It surprised her how easily her body was reacting to this. Everything felt so good. Even before he started this she was sensitive from their earlier moments, so when her first orgasm hit her it didn’t surprise her how much it affected her body. Burying his head against the side of her neck, Negan moaned enjoying the way that she felt. Pressing her hand to his lower abdomen had him waiting for her, his breathing uneven.

“Are you okay?” Negan confirmed with her when she opened her eyes and caressed her palms up his long abdomen toward his chest.

“More than okay,” she alerted him, getting a weak smile from him. Every part of her was enjoying this. It was both physically and mentally rewarding.

Rolling onto his side, Negan brought her with him hooking her leg over his hip. Having him spooning her like this was so much more intimate than she thought tonight would be but she wasn’t complaining. This way she could kiss him and focus on him. Touch him and cherish the moment.

This time she reached between them to grab his rigid length in her grasp. Lifting her hips in closer to his, she led his body to hers. Sinking her hips down had her warmth taking him in. His lips parted, his hazel eyes dropping to look down to watch their bodies connecting.

Thrust after thrust felt incredible. Their breathing matched each other. Their hands caressing and touching each other’s bodies. This was about learning each other all over again. This time more than they had when they were younger.

“Negan,” she purred his name, pressing her forehead to his. Muted moans vibrated against her lips. It was a thrilling sensation with his fingers digging into her hips helping their movements. Kisses were pressed against her lips while Negan praised her again and again. It was everything someone would want for their first time with someone.

Pushing her hand slightly into Negan’s chest had him rolling onto his back with the pressure. With his body pulling from hers, it had her whimpering out with the aching emptiness that followed. Licking his lips, Negan watched her close as she crawled in over him. First her hands started at his hips, caressing up over them toward the center of his chest.

“You have no idea how many nights I dreamt about this when we were younger,” Negan slurred, wincing when her warmth hovered over his aching erection. “I feel like a teenage boy all over again.”

“Everything about you is perfect,” she assured him, lowering in closer to him with her mouth just hanging in over his. Leading his hand between them, she helped him lead his cock back to her body. Lowering her hips down had her sinking down over his length. Clutching tightly to Negan, her eyes slammed close and she tremored with the moan that followed from him. Pulling her hips forward and then dropping them back again had her cries growing louder and more frequent. More than anything she wanted this close contact with him. Negan’s mouth was peppering her neck with kisses, his hands caressing her body in awe. It was obvious that Negan cherished her body and it made her feel good in so many ways.

“Fuck,” Negan lifted his head watching her movements over him with the small amount of room that was left between their bodies.

“You feel so good inside of me,” she purred against his lips having him moan. Unlike Joel, Negan was a very verbal lover. His moans could be heard, he praised her with everything that she did. His hands caressed at her sides, over her bottom and up her back.

Hovering her lips over his, she enjoyed taking in the facial expressions he was making while she worked her hips over his length. Everything about this made her feel good and it wasn’t just about the sex. It was feeling seen. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Grunting out, Negan pulled himself up into a seated position, wrapping his arms around her waist to help bring her hips over him. His mouth pressed kisses at her jawline, nipping slightly at her skin. Moaning out, Negan enjoyed how her nails bit at his back not trying to hurt him, but to show how much she enjoyed what was happening.

“I’m going to come,” his groan vibrated against her lips leading her to use the strength she had to start riding him harder.

There was something in the way that Negan tipped his head back to look at her that absolutely took her breath away. Palming in over the side of her face, Negan brought her to kiss him. Her body was tremoring over him with her leading herself to another orgasm. Crying out against his lips, she felt him tensing beneath her, his moans letting her know his orgasm was approaching. Hearing Negan slur out her name had her eyes slamming shut. Winces escaped his throat with the throbbing of his cock inside of her, the twitching alerting her that his release followed soon after. Their movements continued through his orgasm, their eyes locked. Her body was weak, aching in the best of ways. By the grumble of his raspy moan and his head falling in against the side of her neck she knew that she had milked him completely of his orgasm. In his arms she stayed, liking the way it felt with Negan pressing kisses at the side of her neck. Cuddling her head in against his shoulder, she wrapped her arms tighter around him with their breathing still loud and uneven.

“You were worth every minute of the wait it took for us to get here,” Negan hummed, his head tipping back while she stroked her fingers through his damp, dark hair. It made her smile and they kissed a few times.

“That was a lot of minutes,” she pointed out tipping her head back to stare down at Negan who shook his head and smiled. “I’m not sure I was worth that.”

“You were,” Negan assured her, nipping at her bottom lip and dragging his tongue faintly against her flesh. “You’re perfect.”

Perfect was not something she would have used to describe herself, but she liked hearing it. For a while they laid in bed with her tracing out shapes over his chest and lower abdomen. Talking about things they still hadn’t caught up on. Something inside of her reminded her that so many people would have killed to be in the position she was in. Laying in the arms of Negan Smith. The big-time baseball player that so many people knew. But to her? This was the man that was her childhood best friend. The man that saw all of her and still remembered the little details. Things that people in her life now didn’t even know.

Everything about this was flawless. And she knew that. Negan made love to her. He made her feel special. And this was the most comfortable she had been with anyone in a very long time. The only problem was knowing that she was having these feelings about Negan while still having the feelings that she did for Joel. Then again, she felt pretty crazy thinking about Joel in a moment like this. Joel and Negan were so vastly different. Both perfect in their own ways. But she shouldn’t have been thinking about Joel right now. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from making comparisons between the two and that worried her.

----

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

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Confessions ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) has been split from her ex for two years now. He drops their daughter off from visits with him every weekend, but this one ends a bit differently.

Warning: Talks of smut & hefty flirting!

"Mommy!" my daughter calls out excitedly, hopping out of my ex Joshua's car as soon as he parks.

I crouch down and she runs straight into my arms, to which I respond with a tight hug.

"Hi baby!" I reply excitedly, before kissing her cheek. "How was your time with daddy?"

"It was so much fun!" she replies, looking up at me. "We baked cookies and watched all the Barbie movies."

I chuckle and look up at him, still responding to her. "Sounds like you guys had a blast. I'm sorry I missed it."

He responds with a soft smile on his face - the same gorgeous smile I fell in love with all those years ago.

For context, Josh and I were together for 6 years and have been seperated for 2.

We started dating at the ages of 19 and 23, so naturally, some stupid decisions were made - one of which, lead to our daughter Jalina.

As big of a mistake as it was at the time, becoming a mom has changed my life for the better.

And my love for her somehow grows more and more every day.

She has all of her dad's features: his curly dark hair, big chocolate brown eyes, perfectly round nose, full lips that turn into a gorgeous smile, and even the exact caramel-like shade of his Samoan skin.

As for why we split in the first place, it was mainly because of the distance.

As the years of our relationship rolled on, Josh was getting more and more involved with WWE, and the traveling and time spent away was no joke.

From live shows, to weekly matches, and even occasional PPVs outside of the country, we barely got to see each other.

Which of course, caused us to drift apart and make the mutual decision of parting ways.

Unfortunately, our daughter had already been 4 by that time, so the breakup not only confused her, but hit her hard.

Just to be clear, the attraction is still in full effect, at least over here.

Josh is still very much the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on, and his subtle ways of flirting with me to this day have lead me to believe he feels the same.

Anyway, fast forward to now, Jalina is 6 years old and spends time with both of her parents separately.

Her home is here with me in Savannah, but when Josh is off from work, she goes and visits with him in Atlanta.

"It's okay mom," Jalina replies, setting her backpack down onto the floor in the doorway. "I brought home some cookies for you."

She pulls out and hands me a tupperware container filled to the brim with cookies, sprinkled with pink sugar crystals.

I smile and kiss her temple. "That's very sweet of you, baby. Thank you."

She smiles and zips her backpack up again, throwing one of the straps over her shoulder.

"LiLi why don't you head upstairs and unpack," Josh suggests, stroking her hair gently.

"Okay daddy," she replies, wrapping her arms around his waist.

I smile as they share a quick hug and kiss before she runs inside and upstairs. 

The jingle of the key chains on her backpack zippers gets quieter and quieter, causing me to stand up and brush off my biker shorts.

"You hungry?" I ask, breaking the comfortable silence. "I was in the middle of making dinner when you guys arrived.”

Josh gives me a soft smile. "What kind of man would I be if I turned down your cooking?"

I smile, playfully roll my eyes, and walk back into the house, inviting him to follow me.

He does, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on a stool at the island.

"So," he begins again, watching me as I transfer the cookies into a Ziplock bag. "How's everything been?"

I shrug, sliding the zipper across the top. "Quiet, thank God. How's work?"

He tilts his head, nodding. "Busy as usual. You been keeping up with the shows?"

"Haven't I always?" I tease, setting the cookies to the side and turning around to open the fridge and grab some ingredients for a side salad to go with dinner.

I hear him chuckle from behind me. "Aight fair enough. I appreciate your support though forreal."

On my way over to the sink to wash some vegetables, I can practically feel his gaze on my ass.

I grab a cutting board and knife, and head back over to the island counter.

"No worries," I finally reply, cutting off the ends of a cucumber. "Half the time Jalina is the one to turn on the channels to watch her daddy, so it's not like I have much of a choice."

"Gee thanks," he replies sarcastically, causing me to giggle.

Comfortable silence falls over the room again, as the faint sound of our daughter playing with her dolls upstairs echoes throughout the house.

"Can I help with anything?" he asks, as I turn back to the stove to stir the pasta.

I think for a minute. "You can set the table if you'd like."

"Cool," he replies, the sound of his footsteps getting closer.

His hand lightly grazes against my hip, as he reaches up to open the cabinet and grab three dishes.

And, as if nothing has changed, I automatically get goosebumps in reaction to the feeling of his soft fingertips against my body.

"You cold?" he asks, walking past me smirking.

This mother fucker.

"Boy shut up," I reply, taking the pot off the heat and over to the sink to strain the pasta water.

He chuckles and heads over to me once the table is all set.

"I know you missed me," he teases, hugging me from behind.

"Don't flatter yourself," I lie, shaking the strainer to get all of the excess water out. "And our daughter is just upstairs. Don't act like an idiot please."

"You're acting like she wouldn't love to have her parents back together," he mumbles, his hot breath against my ear. "And besides, you ain't pushed me away yet."

He got me there.

"Whatever," I mutter, heading back over to the stove and pouring the pasta into my homemade Alfredo sauce.

He comes up from behind me again, his big hands stroking my sides, and somehow leaving even more goosebumps behind.

"Good comeback," he mumbles, and starts kissing my neck.

I bite my lower lip gently and tilt my head back, laying it against his chest to give him more access. "Joshua..."

"Feels good, huh?" he coos sexily against my jawline. "Daddy could never forget your favorite spots."

Once the pasta and sauce are fully combined, I turn towards him and fold my arms. "Josh, we've been apart for well over 2 years. What makes you think I'd still call you daddy?"

I mean, of course I would.

But this explanation should be interesting.

He cups my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his dreamy eyes staring deep into mine.

"I remember all those late nights," he begins, caressing my ass with his free hand. "When this ass was all mine. I loved seeing it arched in the air while I fucked you from behind. My favorite was when I'd shove my face in it to swallow that pussy whole. All you said was 'daddy please' this and 'yes daddy' that. You miss that just as much as I do, huh baby?"

With every dirty memory that leaves his dreamy lips, I feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

God, the things this man does to me.

"More than anything," I reply, my voice just above a whisper. "But I don't miss being apart from you all the time. We'd have sex just like you said, and then I wouldn't see you for a week, sometimes two. I felt so alone. So used."

His eyes sadden, as his thumb starts to stroke my cheek again. "We were so young, baby. But we're grown now. We know better and we can make it work. I'm willing to try again, if you are."

I let out a deep sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck and playing with his curls. "I don't know."

"Say yes mama," he practically begs, his thumb now grazing my bottom lip. "I've been missing you so much. I'd give anything to have your beautiful self belong to me again. For our daughter to have her mommy and daddy back together again. To come home after a long day and fall asleep with this gorgeous body in my arms again. I love you baby. Just say the words and I'll be your Jey-Daddy again."

Jey-Daddy.

A nickname I gave him the first time we ever had sex.

So many unwanted memories, but so many good ones too.

I take a deep breath before standing on my tippy toes and pressing my lips to his.

I don't know why I'm doing this instead of responding, but it feels so good.

Better than words anyway.

He automatically responds, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer, making the kiss slow and passionate.

Our lips and tongues move perfectly in sync as he lightly grips my neck.

When we finally pull away, he looks into my eyes again. "So is that a yes?"

I lick my lips and give him a soft smile. "Yeet."

He smiles back and pecks my lips then left cheek before pulling me into a hug.

I hug back, resting my head against his chest and inhaling his delicious cocoa butter scent.

"My beautiful lady," he coos, resting his chin on my head. "I love you."

"I love you too," I reply, rubbing his back. "I never stopped."

He kisses my temple and rocks us back and forth.

—————————————————————————————————

The light snores coming from Jalina and Josh fill the room as the credits to "Cinderella III: A Twist in Time" roll on the living room TV.

I press the power button on the remote and look over at the two loves of my life.

Could I be any more lucky?

I pick Jalina up and off of Josh, making sure to be extra careful so that I don't wake either of them up.

She stirs in her sleep but wraps her arms around my neck, causing me to smile softly.

I carry her upstairs and lay her in her bed, lifting the blankets onto her body and making sure to tuck her in extra comfortably.

I press a gentle kiss to her forehead before quietly leaving her bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I head back downstairs and find Josh still asleep on the couch.

I chuckle quietly at the sound of his loud snores and kneel onto the cushion next to him.

I gently cup his face and stroke his cheek, to which he responds with his eyes fluttering open and a soft smile when he sees me. "Hi baby."

"Hi sleepyhead," I tease, running my fingers through his curls. "I brought Jalina up to bed. You guys were knocked out by the time the movie ended."

He chuckles in response and rubs his eyes while stretching.

"I didn't wanna wake you," I continue. "But I know you have to be somewhere tomorrow and the couch might not be the most comfortable."

He smiles again, and strokes my cheek. "You're an angel, baby. Thank you."

We share a quick kiss before I take his hand and lead us upstairs to bed.

Once we're all cozy under the covers, we just kinda lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

"What?" I ask shyly, blushing like a maniac.

One thing about this man: he's always gonna make me blush regardless of the 6 years we spent together.

He chuckles and removes a curl from my face. "You're so pretty, baby."

"Thank you," I reply looking down, my face hot to the touch.

He gently lifts my chin and stares deep into my eyes.

"I'm so happy you're mine again." *Kiss* "You're everything." *Kiss* "I love you so much, baby. And I will for as long as you'll let me." *One final kiss*

I kiss back each time and bite my bottom lip after the last one before speaking up. "I love you too. More than you'll ever know."

We share a smile as I wrap my arms around him.

He rubs my lower back and buries his head into my neck, giving me a ton of kisses there too.

When we finally pull away, he puckers his lips and I giggle before accepting his offer, pressing mine to his once more.

Soon enough, we drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

Lord, thank you for bringing the man of my dreams back into my life.

Liked by uceyjucey, jonathanfatu, trinity_fatu, truekofi, and 74.6k others

giannamacri my entire 🫶🏽

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uceyjucey I love you 🩵

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Liked by giannamacri, jonathanfatu, zillafatu, trickwilliamswwe, and 292.8k others

uceyjucey Never lettin' you go again 🥶🩵

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