#someone brushes my jacket in the hallway and i go nonverbal it is such an effort to talk or write or do anything but morse and Gebärdenspra

[arisveah]

I want so badly to talk about generation loss but every time i think about it i am reminded of how closely i teeter on the edge between speaking and nonverbal and even now i have just lost access to 90 percent auf mein vocabulary. Genuine. Positive.

Update

[elliestormfound]

Witcher Secret Santa

Dear @linx1457

this is your secret Santa! I wish you merry christmas and hope you enjoy your gift!

@thewitchersecretsanta

Geralt/Jaskier modern au, roommates, mutual pining, 1854 words

CW: none, just fluff and pinging with a happy end

read on ao3

--------- “I told you not to go in my room and I told you not to touch my stuff,” Geralt said, looking at his new roommate.

Geralt worked as a tour guide for the local national park. During the colder months less tourists visited and his wage hardly covered his rent. His brother Lambert had suggested he take on a roommate and posted an ad for him in the local newspaper. 

But most of the people that had answered the ad had been weird or downright creepy and he had lost all hope till a musician called. Jaskier - that was his name - was new in town and wanted to gain a foothold in the big city. He needed to stay somewhere cheap for a couple of months till he could afford his own apartment. 

Geralt had invited him over and even though he had not been sure if someone so outgoing would clash with his more reserved nature, he had somehow been convinced that it would work out.

But now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Who even has real steel swords?” Jaskier asked, “I thought they were cheap imitations from the ren faire…” They were standing in Geralt’s room where his two heavy swords had crashed down from where they were supposed to hang on the wall.

“They are from an actual blacksmith,” Geralt said through gritted teeth, and more quietly, “from the ren faire.”

Jaskier laughed, “so I was right!”

“That is not the point!” Geralt growled and bent down to pick them up.

---------

It had been the 18th ad he had called for a room and when the man with the gravelly voice answered, Jaskier had been instantly smitten. And when the man with the deep voice turned out to be illegally handsome and accepted him as a roommate the musician was in heaven.

And at the same time he knew that it was a bad idea to pine after someone you lived with. He had experience with that. Bad experience.

So he tried his best to keep his yearning under control. But on some days it was particularly hard. Like today with the swords. 

Jaskier knew he shouldn’t go into Geralt’s room, but he had lost the charger of his phone. So he snuck in when Geralt was at work. His eyes had been caught by the reflection on the blades of the swords on Geralt’s wall. 

When he had first saw them after he moved in he had been a bit concerned - who the fuck had swords??? But Geralt had told him that he used to work as a stunt choreographer for sword fighting.

Jaskier had walked over and brushed along the blade with his index finger. And the fucking swords had fallen to the ground with a loud crash. In the exact moment Geralt had returned from work.

After Geralt chided him, Jaskier grabbed one of the swords to occupy his shaking hands and the adonis that was his roommate had the audacity to stand very close behind him and take his hand in the most tender way and fucking breathe on his neck. 

He knew that he couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing the bastard and pushing him on the bed if he had stayed a moment longer, so he made some shady excuse and practically ran into his room to play some music to calm down. 

----------

Over the last few weeks Geralt got used to living with Jaskier. He would never admit it out loud but it was actually very nice that someone was there when he came home from work. He especially loved the days when Jaskier cooked. Opening the door to their apartment and being greeted by the delicious smell of lasagna was something he could get used to.

“I’m home,” he called down the hallway and suppressed a smile when Jaskier answered, “then get in the kitchen, darling, dinner is almost ready.”

After he had put away his jacket and boots he walked over and stopped in the doorframe to take in the kitchen. Jaskier was a great cook - his food always tasted fucking amazing. But the utter chaos he left in his wake was honestly impressive. Dirty pots and pans were stacked in the sink, little red spots of (hopefully) tomato sauce decorated the tiles behind the stove and at least five different packages of spices stood open on the counter. 

Geralt sighed quietly but knew that the lasagna would be worth the clean up later.

---------

Jaskier’s mother had told him that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. So he occasionally cooked for Geralt. 

Of course he didn’t cook FOR Geralt. He cooked for himself and made too much so Geralt could eat with him. At least that is what he told his roommate. Today it was lasagna. 

He smiled when he heard the key turn in the lock and Geralt calling out that he was home. He yelled, “then get in the kitchen, darling.” It had been funny to watch Geralt’s reactions to his frequent use of pet names. Jaskier had reassured him that he did that with every one of his friends, but to be honest, at least to himself - darling was reserved only for Geralt. 

“How was your day?” he asked, as his roommate stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Jaskier had just put the parmesan on the lasagna and made sure to angle his ass in the perfect line of sight for Geralt as he bent forward to put the lasagna in the oven. 

He smirked as he stood back up and turned around to find Geralt blushing. He cleared his throat before he said, “good, not many tourists in the park today. I gave a tour to a family and cleaned some garbage that campers had left behind.”

Jaskier smiled and said, “and then you come home to this?” He turned around and looked at the mess he had created.

“At least I get dinner here,” Geralt replied and walked over to the cupboard to get out plates. He set the table and sat down to watch Jaskier pour two glasses of red wine. 

Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed from the cooking and his brown hair was tousled. On the apron he was wearing ‘KISS THE COOK’ stood in bold letters. Geralt had to shake his head because his roommate looked very kissable right now. 

---------

“Fuck,” Geralt said as he hit the TV. There was only a static noise and a corresponding image that was not unlike the view of the snowstorm outside. No matter to which channel he switched, the results were the same. 

“What are you ranting about, darling?” Jaskier asked as he walked into their living room. He was wearing one of Geralt’s hoodies and his own ridiculous pyjama bottoms. At least he had told Geralt they were pyjama bottoms, but they actually were illegally tight fitting booty shorts that had “flower twink” written on the ass.

“There will be no movie night today,” Geralt said, hitting the offending electrical device for one more time, “the fucking snowstorm has cut off the tv.”

Jaskier moaned sadly and pouted expertly. It was not only pursed lips. It was a full body pout with furrowed brows, round puppy eyes first looking down and then slowly up through his lashes, shoulders hunched forward, arms hanging limply down by his sides and one foot drawing circles with his toes in the soft carpet. 

Geralt believed that his roommate secretly practised this and he had to admit in the privacy of his own mind that it worked every damn time on him. But sadly this time he couldn’t do anything about it. 

But then Jaskier’s face lit up with a smile and he said, “Geralt, I have an idea -” Geralt groaned quietly because Jaskier’s ‘ideas’ rarely ended well, but his roommate ignored his nonverbal protests, “- do you remember when I went to the flea market the other day? I bought an old VHS recorder and a video cassette.”

“Why the fuck did you buy that?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Be thankful, Geralt, it will save movie night!” Jaskier called as he turned on his heel in search of the old recorder.

-----

It did not save movie night. The video recorder did in fact work, which wasn’t short of a miracle for that old thing, but the video cassette Jaskier had bought with it was not a movie. 

“How could I have known that ‘fireplace romance’ is not a movie?” Jaskier said, eyeing the case.

“You could have read the description,” Geralt grumbled as he looked at the tv screen that showed a fireplace with a delightfully burning fire and nothing more. For four hours. 

Jaskier sat down on the couch that was facing the tv and patted the space next to him.

“Come on, it’s better than nothing!”

Before putting the tape in the recorder they had set up everything for movie night: popcorn, hot chocolates with the tiny marshmallows swimming in them and a bowl of gummy bears. 

-----------

They had sat like this for a while, talking about work and Jaskier’s next gig in a coffee shop around the corner. Somehow, without Geralt noticing him moving, Jaskier had come closer to him and was now pressed to his side. It felt good.

Jaskier took a sip of his hot chocolate and turned to his roommate.

“Geralt, what do you think about…” but he stopped as he saw Geralt smirking and looking at his lips.

“What?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Geralt cocked his head and said quietly in his deep voice, “you have something on your lip.”

Jaskier frowned and asked, “where?”

Geralt gestured for his own lip and Jaskier tried to imitate him, but he missed the spot of chocolate. 

“Can you help me?” he asked, leaning a bit closer to him.

Geralt’s mouth was suddenly dry and he swallowed. Jaskier’s face was so close to his now that he could see all the tiny freckles that had faded during winter, but were still visible up close. He blinked and finally reached over. 

Gently he placed his palm on Jaskier’s hot cheek and felt him leaning slightly into the touch. Slowly he stroked his thumb over Jaskier’s lower lip to remove the chocolate that clung to it.

He could feel Jaskier breathing in deeper right before he opened his mouth just a bit and Geralt could feel his warm breath on his thumb. 

A heartbeat later Geralt threw all restraint and explanations why he shouldn’t do it overboard, and said in a hoarse whisper, “I really...i really want to kiss you right now.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened before a soft smile played over his lips.

Jaskier leaned forward to close the gap between them and kissed him. In that moment Geralt couldn’t remember why he had been convinced that kissing Jaskier was a bad idea because it was the best thing he had ever felt.

The kiss started slow and soft, almost chaste but when Geralt wanted to lean back he felt Jaskier’s hand in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 52

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 4,063

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE 

Author’s Note: Woo for another chapter! These Friday updates make me even more excited for the weekend, so I hope it does the same for y’all. I also hope you’re ready for this third outing with Negan ;)

Gentle Heat

At 4:57pm, you strode down the hallway and towards the front door of the Sanctuary. You had Ricardo hefted up over your shoulder, and gave him a little twirl reminiscent of a certain leader with his own handy-dandy weapon. Your brain and subconscious walked excitedly on either side of you, both of them happy, content, and finally on the same emotional page since the conversation with Negan last night. 

When you informed Ben at the beginning of dinner prep that you had to leave once the food was ready, he had flashed a knowing smirk and gave a sassy ‘mmmm hmmmm’ in response, earning himself a playful shove. He had laughed and then said he’d make sure to leave two containers of leftovers in the fridge for when you got back. When you hadn’t corrected the container amount, he had only grinned harder, and you couldn’t help but smile in return. Ben and Negan would never be best buddies, but you could finally see the potential for them to at least be cordial acquaintances, a thought which caused another of those darned warm and fuzzy feelings in your chest. 

Mind returning to the present, you pushed open the heavy front door and squinted into the warm rays of sun that would last for a couple more hours before sinking into the horizon. When your vision had adjusted to the light, you saw that Negan was already waiting at the front gate, gaze fixed in your direction. Fighting the ridiculous grin that tugged at your lips, you started walking purposely across the asphalt towards him, perhaps putting a little more sway to your hips than was necessary. Your eyes took in his tall and delicious form, subconscious almost tripping over its own feet at the sight. A white tee was peeking out the top of his slightly unzipped leather jacket, and his gloved hands held Lucille. Vowing to have them also hold you by the end of the outing, you felt a spark of excitement at the thought of that soft leather running over your skin, this time with no interruptions. 

Stopping a foot away from him, both of you raked greedy eyes down over the other. While you tried to be a bit discreet in your ogling, his stare was blatant, taking in your peach-colored t-shirt, form-fitting jeans, and boots. A grin curved those sinful lips as he drawled, “Afternoon, doll.” 

Unable to help a tiny smirk in return, you calmly replied, “Good afternoon, Negan.” 

Eyes twinkling knowingly, he turned and looked over at the Savior on gate duty. A subtle nod of Negan’s head was all it took for the man to hurriedly unlock and open the well-oiled metal. 

Once you were out of view of the Sanctuary and enclosed on all sides by trees, he stopped and turned to you. “Well, doll?”

“Well, what?” 

He lifted Lucille straight out in front of him and panned her over the surrounding forest. “You’re running the fucking show, so where to?”

Delight lit up your face at the realization of what he was offering. He’s letting you be in charge this time! Your subconscious procured a red cloak and tiny wicker basket out of thin air and frolicked off into the trees, while your brain took out a magnifying glass and started studying an odd-looking insect resting on a nearby bush. Torn between which one to follow, you landed on a mixture of both, and started off in a random direction with a bit of extra pep in your step, taking everything in. 

You wandered around that way for a while, taking the time to explore all the wonders the forest had to offer now that you weren’t faced with a mission of picking berries before the clock ran out. Negan was a good sport about it, following dutifully behind as you slowly meandered around in a haphazard pattern. It dimly registered that you didn’t even hesitate to worry about where you were going, trusting him to reign you in if you strayed too far from the Sanctuary or caused him to lose his bearings. 

At one point, you stopped at the sound of rustling, both Lucille and Ricardo raised in readiness. However, the would-be assailants turned out to only be a pair of squirrels. You both stood silent and frozen, watching the furry little creatures happily chase each other through the brush before racing up a tree. Moving on, you stopped at times to inspect certain plants, but since your knowledge on horticulture wasn’t extensive, you refrained from touching the ones that looked foreign. Negan stayed dutifully silent and uncomplaining a few paces behind, as if he knew how much you needed this outing, how much you had needed a bit of fresh air and freedom from the Sanctuary that you didn’t have to steal or that wasn’t dictated by someone else. 

However, this was Negan you were talking about, and his patience wasn’t infinite. You knew it had finally worn thin when you abruptly stopped and bent down to smell a pretty yellow flower and heard him give a low groan of frustration. Freezing at the sound, you turned to look at him. He might be standing a few feet away, but his gaze was fixed with laser focus on your bent-over ass. 

Interest quickly moving from your surroundings and towards a more arousing topic, you straightened and quipped, “What? I didn’t think we were in a rush to get to grandmother’s house?”

Instantly recognizing the metaphor, his eyes twinkled with both merriment and something a bit darker...something a bit dirtier.

Tongue tucking into his cheek, he looked you down and up before replying, “I didn’t realize that was the game we were playin’, Red. Should’ve fucking said so sooner.”  

With that, he strode towards you, his long legs quickly eating up the distance. He fit the Big Bad moniker perfectly in that moment, his eyes glowing wolfishly with intent.   

Feeling both adrenaline and desire course through your body, you did the only thing to be expected of Little Red in a situation such as this. 

Giving a huff of excitement, you turned tail and ran. 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

You must have taken Negan by surprise, because initially you only heard silence in response. You hadn’t even hesitated to consider what to do if he stayed put, instead knowing that he would follow and chase you down. Sure enough, you had only sprinted a short distance before the unmistakable sound of heavy but agile footfalls arose from behind. Grinning, you jumped over a large branch laying across the ground, incredibly glad that the ankle you had twisted during your last forest adventure was healed enough to handle this sudden strenuous activity. 

The footsteps grew louder, and you knew he was closing in when you could hear the unmistakable sound of leaves brushing against leather as he pushed past the same hedges as you had only a few seconds earlier. Knowing the chase was almost at an end, you suddenly swerved to the left and darted behind a nearby stout bush that came up to your waist. 

Turning around, you expected Negan to burst into view on the other side of the bush...but instead were met with silence. Brows furrowing, you strained to listen, certain he had been just behind you a moment ago. When there was nothing, not even a rustle of foliage, you felt a prickle of worry dart down your spine. Had he fallen? No, surely you would’ve heard that. 

“Negan?” you hissed, visions of him being grabbed by an enemy group or knocking himself unconscious the same way you had not too long ago racing through your mind. 

Hefting up Ricardo, who you had been clutching in one hand at your hip while running, you slowly went back around the bush and retraced your steps. Trying to walk as lightly as possible, to avoid any unnecessary noise, you had tiptoed about thirty feet and were just passing the wide trunk of some large tree, when a strong arm darted out from behind it and snagged around your waist. Another hand flew over your mouth, cutting off your sharp scream. You registered that it was encased in leather at the same time the hair stood up on the back of your neck, both clues pointing a bright neon arrow to who you captor was. 

Before you could decide how to enact your revenge for his deception, he spun you around and pressed your back into the large tree. Surprise and loss of balance from the quick maneuver caused you to drop Ricardo, and a second later his hands pinned yours to the rough bark at the same time that a muscled thigh slid between your legs, anchoring you in place.

Despite sprinting after you through the woods, he didn’t even appear to be breathing heavy, the jerk. Meanwhile, you were making more than a small amount of effort to catch your breath from all the exertion, darn your out-of-shape ass. Course, some of the accelerated breaths could also be a result of having such an attractive alpha male using his entire body to pin you against a tree. Not to mention the way he was staring at you with a devilish glint in his tawny gaze. 

Leaning down, his raspy drawl came from right beside your ear as he murmured, “Checkmate, doll. Your move.” 

An unexpected rush of emotion rose within you at the words. What had initially started out as a condescending phrase, one he used to taunt and exert his power, had then changed into more of a challenge thrown down by you during the chess game. After that, it had been transformed into a type of endearment, a way for both of you to check in with the other. It was yet another example of how far your interactions with Negan had come, how far your feelings towards each other had come. 

The phrase had always been a precursor to a nonverbal response from the other, and you weren’t going to break that trend now. Head turning, your lips brushed over his bearded cheek, seeking out his mouth. When your lips connected, you sighed and poured your soul into the kiss. It was heated with both desire and an emotion that was slowly making itself impossible to resist. One that both terrified and thrilled you with its possibility. You knew he had received the nonverbal message when the hands previously pinning you gentled, leathered fingers threading with yours until they were intertwined. His kiss consumed you, tongue thrusting inside your mouth in possessive, delicious strokes until you pulsed with need. His head then tilted to the other side, as if he wanted to explore from every angle, as if he couldn’t taste you enough. 

When you had melted into him with willing submission, he pulled back from the kiss and gazed down at your desire-hazed expression, the silence dragging on for long moments as you took each other in. His eyes were full of what could only be described as gentle heat, showcasing both his desire and his...affection. It was a look that you didn’t even think was in his repertoire, much less one that would be directed at you. You weren’t sure what your own face was conveying, but whatever it was, he seemed to like it, his lips ticking up slightly on one side. 

Leaning back in, he went for your throat this time, beard brushing over sensitive skin as he found the spot he had quickly learned caused your head to fall back in surrender. Lifting one leg, you wrapped a thigh around him so that your hips pressed together. 

Giving a frustrated groan, he murmured against your skin, “I’m a fucking fool.” 

“What?” you dumbly replied, stiffening slightly. Had you misread that moment of connection just a few seconds ago? Had he not meant to-

“I didn’t bring any fucking condoms. I thought you’d be so busy traipsing around the fucking woods that we wouldn’t need one til we got back.” 

His face was still pressed into your neck, lips moving over your flesh in hot, open-mouthed kisses, so he missed the mischievous smile that crossed your face. “My bra.”

His head did lift at that, and it was his turn to dumbly say, “What?”

Giving a light laugh, you tugged at his hands so he’d let go, fingers dropping to reach inside the modest neckline of your shirt. He followed the movement with curiosity, and you saw the lightbulb go off in his head a moment before you pulled out the tiny foil packet you had put in there earlier. 

Brandishing it in front of his face, you quipped, “Glad one of us came prepared.” 

Tongue tucking into his cheek, he gave an obscene smile. “That’s my girl,” he purred, the words causing heat to simmer in your belly.

Reaching down for the button on your jeans, he continued, “We’ll have to make it quick, doll. And quiet. Don’t want any fucking walkers catching us with our pants down.”

Only able to nod in agreement, your eyes were locked on the sight of his leather-encased fingers lowering the zipper of your pants before they gripped the fabric at the sides and tugged both it and your panties down. You had to lower your leg from his hip for him to do so, and he cursed under his breath when he came upon the obstacle of your knee-high boots. Kneeling, he quickly unzipped and yanked them off before returning to the removal of your pants. A dart of heat went through you when he tugged the garments off and stood back up, taking in the sight of you standing before him and naked from the waist down. 

“Fuck, that’s a pretty picture,” he breathed.

Taking your mouth in another kiss coated with blatant sensuality, his hand slipped between your thighs, two gloved fingers pushing inside and caressing your flesh in expert strokes. His thumb ran through the wetness, dragging it up to coat your sensitive clit. Breaking the kiss, your head fell back against the tree, breath panting when he started rubbing in soft circles with the perfect amount of pressure. It was a touch meant to steadily drive up your pleasure without being too quick or overwhelming. 

The feel of the smooth, buttery leather sliding over and inside you was sublime, yet also taboo enough to make you clench around him with the dirty thrill of it. The fingers inside scissored, stretching you for his greedy cock. Looking down, you saw that it was currently straining the front of his pants in a way that made you grit your teeth to hold back a moan. 

Deciding that turnabout was fair play, you reached for the fastening of his pants, quickly unbuckling his belt and pushing the fabric down below his hips, along with the boxer briefs. When his cock came into view, it was already red and swollen, the fat head glistening with a drop of pre-cum. You felt a bit dizzy at the sight, excited by the illicitness of fucking out in the open like a pair of wild animals. Wrapping a hand around him, you marveled once again at his impressiveness. His girth was more than a handful, and yet to the place currently aching for him, you knew it would be a perfect fit.

His eyes fluttered closed with a groan when you started stroking his cock, thumb running up over the slit with each pass. His obvious enjoyment of your touch sent a rush of wetness between your thighs, as well as giving your ego a jolt of empowerment over the fact that you had such an effect on this handsome-as-hell man who was usually so in control of every situation. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that you were already becoming addicted to. Not wanting to wait any longer, you leaned forward and nipped at the tanned skin of his brawny throat. 

“I want you to fuck me like this, right now,” you said, a bit surprised at the command in your tone. 

His eyes popped back open as he gave a pained growl and grabbed the condom out of the hand not stroking his dick. He ripped it open, and you reluctantly let go so that he could roll it on in practiced strokes. 

“Hurry,” you urged, back arching into the trunk of the tree and hips pressing into him, feeling the tip of his shaft brush against your soaked entrance. 

He didn’t disappoint, strong hands hooking around the backs of your knees and lifting you right off the ground, at the same time that he entered you with one long thrust. 

You couldn’t hold back a cry at his intrusion, a gloved palm quickly covering your mouth to muffle the sound. Pushing two leather-covered fingers past your lips to press lightly on your tongue, you realized they were the same ones that had been between your other set of lips just a minute ago. Giving another primal moan at the filthiness of it, you sucked on his fingers, faintly tasting your own musky essence under the more prominent and earthly flavor of the leather. 

“Shit,” he hissed, also struggling to keep from making too much noise as he started up a deep, steady rhythm with his hips, your ankles criss-crossed together behind his ass and urging him on. 

Grabbing the bottom of your shirt with the hand not in your mouth, he yanked the peach fabric up to your chin and pulled down the fabric cups of your plain white bra. Your breasts popped free, presented to him on a platter with the underwire still keeping them elevated. He buried his face in them with a muffled groan, his beard causing delicious friction as his mouth feasted on your soft skin. You moaned around his fingers when he took a taut nipple between his teeth and bit gently before laving it with his tongue. 

Despite the fact that you were both still wearing some of your clothes, it wasn’t as quick a fuck as he had warned. His thrusts were more relaxed than urgent, but no less devastating since each one seemed to drag his cock in a way that hit every sensitive nerve ending you possessed. He was using his body as if it were a tool designed specifically to pleasure you, and he slowed down his thrusts even more when his head lifted and he caught you in his hooded, tawny gaze. He watched you closely as his hips possessed and retreated, your thighs squeezing on the sides of his waist and your own hips lifting away from the sharp bite of tree bark to meet each thrust. The fingers in your mouth slipped out, replaced by his tongue, as he kissed you slow and deep. 

The forest blurred around you, any outside awareness dwindling until all you could see and feel was him, and you dimly realized that this wasn’t fucking. No, with the way your bodies pulsed and hearts pounded in unison...this wasn’t anything other than making love. 

Despite the unhurried pace, the pleasure continued to build, pushing you steadily and inexorably towards the precipice that always promised ecstasy. You were releasing little whimpers against his lips, hands clutching at his shoulders as your muscles started tensing in a way that let you both know that you were close. 

“That’s it, doll,” he murmured. “I want to feel it. Show me that you’re fucking mine.” 

Body obeying his command, the orgasm took over, and you shattered around him at the exquisite pleasure that undulated from the place where you were joined out to everywhere from the top of your head to the tips of your curling toes. 

You never wanted it to end. Your body flooded not just with pleasure, but with a deep fulfillment that you had never felt before. It felt as if he was now a part of your psyche, as if he was the final puzzle piece clicking into place and making you whole. 

He was quick to follow, hips giving one more sharp thrust before they stilled and his lower body shuddered against you. He released a vehement moan into your mouth, his chest vibrating with the force of it. 

You clung to him, stunned by the intensity of the moment. His sweat-dampened forehead dropped to your shoulder, chests rising and falling against each other as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually the muscles in your legs started protesting, so you unwound your thighs from his waist and dropped them back to the ground, causing your lower bodies to separate.  

After a few more seconds, he lifted his head and looked down at you. The tenderness and utter satisfaction on his face made your heart clench, and your mouth opened before you could stop it.

“Negan, I’m-” you broke off, brain finally catching up and trying to hold back the tide of emotion. 

His hand came up to cup the side of your face, golden gaze intent on yours. “What is it, doll?” 

Self-doubt suddenly rose within you, causing the words to stay caught in your throat, refusing to come out. What the hell are you thinking?! Don’t let the fact that he just gave you an amazing orgasm fool you into thinking he wants to get all sappy and emotional. 

Trying to fight any impending panic at the close call, you instead tried to play it off with a joke. “I think we might’ve broken our vow to be quick and quiet.” You attempted a sly grin, but it felt forced.

Furrowing his brows at your abrupt change in demeanor, his eyes moved carefully over your face, as if trying to find the truth behind the mask you had suddenly thrown on. Not wanting to wait and see if he’d call you out for the obvious deflection, you gathered the strength needed to push away from the tree...away from him. 

Tucking the shirt back down and bending to grab discarded jeans and panties off the ground, you silently got dressed with your back to him. The rustle of fabric and metallic clink of a belt buckle let you know that he was doing the same. When finished zipping up your boots, you picked up Ricardo from where he lay in the tall grass. A sudden surge of awkwardness hit when you ran out of actions to complete and so just stood there, unsure what to do next.

Much as you wanted to take off in a rush back to the Sanctuary, you had lost all sense of where you were. Knowing your luck, if you picked a random direction and started walking, it would be completely the wrong way. Instead, you stood there and waited, looking off into the distance through the trees, unwilling to make eye contact. It showed how well Negan could read you now, that he wordlessly and confidently started off in what must be the right direction, not trying to make you speak or look at him. It made you grateful to him that he understood and respected the need for some mental space, at the same time that it scrambled your emotions even more for him to be so in tune with you like that.

Starting off after him, it wasn’t long before he dropped back so that the two of you were walking side-by-side, Negan adjusting his long-legged stride to match your shorter one. Using his teeth to pull a glove off the hand that wasn’t clutching Lucille, he pocketed the leather and reached over to clasp your non-Ricardo hand in his bare one. 

You glanced down, taking in the sight of your smaller, more delicate hand wrapped up in his large, calloused one. His nonverbal offer of affection, despite the way you had shut down on him just minutes ago, made your chest tighten. Unable to continue the cold facade, you gave his hand a light squeeze of acknowledgement, unable to help the slight smile that tipped your lips when he returned it with a gentle squeeze of his own. Your brain and subconscious both let out the worried breaths they’d been holding with a sigh, as they watched you and Negan walk the entire way back to the Sanctuary like that: hand-in-hand.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[jizemderler]

What could never be {Kim Namjoon}

A/N: You’re the boys stylist and one major requirement for this job was being married to minimize the rumors about the boys. Now you were married when you got the job...

Part 2

“Jungkook don’t!” you warned him and reached out your arms as if you could catch him if he fell into the pool. “You don’t have any back up clothes.” you added and glared at him with your heart heating against your chest.

“Noona’s glaring at me.” he said to the camera man while backing up from the pool and you took a deep breath while shaking your head. You’re palms started sweating while you watched him so you rubbed them dry on your jeans. The ring on your ringfinger caught your attention and you turned it in between your fingers until someone called for your name.

You were flattening out Namjoons jacket while he watched you work. “Is this okay?” you asked while stepping back to look at him. “Move for me please.” you asked him and he lift his arms and turned his torso from left to right. “Your abs show a bit is that okay with you or should I change the length?” you asked him professionally and he thought about it for a second. “What song is it for?” you asked while looking at the list taped to the wall. “Oh, right. I would need to make a dress out of it if you don’t want your abs to show in that choreo.” you chuckled and he joined with his laugh.

“That’s it then?” he asked and you nodded. “If you’re comfy?” “Yeah.” he answered and you nodded again to dismiss him. “Call Taehyung in for me. He’s gonna complain about the weight of the jacket again but I can’t change that.” you said half jokingly and Namjoon chuckled while taking his shirt off.

“How’s your family doing?” he asked casually and your body tensed up. They knew that you were living alone with your husband. Well, your ex-husband. “Fine.” you answered quickly and didn’t look at him keeping your hands busy with the clothes. “Greet hyung from me.” he said and that made you look up because he would never greet your husband. “Sure.” you said after a fee seconds and he looked away. “I’ll get Tae.” he said after changing and left the room without saying anything else.

You finished work around 10pm and decided to grab a coffee before driving home. As soon as you sat down in your car you took off the golden ring and threw it into the box next to the drivers seat. You started the car and were about to drive off when suddenly someone knocked on the window. “What the..?” you said and saw Yoongi looking through the window mimicking you to roll down the window. “We’re going out to eat. Do you wanna tag along?” he asked and you thought about it for a second. You would feel alone at home so you agreed.

You were all sitting around a table enjoying some delicious korean barbeque when you noticed Namjoon looking at you. You catched his gaze and raised your eyebrows to ask him nonverbally what he wanted. He nodded towards your hand and just then you realized that you forgot your ring in the car. Your eyes widened and you pulled that hand under the table chuckling nervously. “My hands were swallen and I took it off.” you explained and he nodded.

***

It was about two weeks later and you had one on one sessions with the boys for the last fitting of their new outfits when it happened. You were standing in the hallway waiting for Namjoon to arrive. Jimin just had left and the studio was empty. You were writing something on your phone when you heared footsteps coming closer. “Hey!” you greeted him with a hug and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He was a giant of a man and you were kind of lost in his arms. “Hi.” he answered into your ear and a chill went down your spine.

“You ready to put the final versions of your outfits on?” you asked him enthusiastically as you stepped back and clapped your hands together. He nodded and you walked together into the fitting room. It was always fun working with Namjoon but today he seemed like he had something on his mind. He couldn’t hold still and it felt like he tried to escape your touch.

“Namjoon you need to hold still if you don’t want me to ram a needle into your chest.” you said while fixing the collar of his button up. You were finished with sewing the part and saw that you left the scissors on the table so you did what came first to your mind. You leaned in, your nose slightly brushing his neck and ripped of the excess garn with your teeth. “Got it.” you said holding the bit of garn up and smiled at him. You couldn’t really decipher the look in his eyes when you looked up so you were thrown off when he stepped closer and reached his hand out to pleace it on the crook of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. It was just a brief moment, just until you realized what was happening, his warm and soft lips against your. Before you could allow yourself to kiss him back you pushed at his chest and pulled away. “What..?” you whispered and covered your mouth with you hand. His eyes went down to your hand and stuck at your ringfinger. His own eyes went wide in shock and he reached his hand out but you stepped back.

“I think you should go.” you said while looking at the floor. “Noona- I...I’m sorry, I-...”

“Namjoon you need to leave.” you interrupted him and he let out a big sigh and started chewing his bottom lip. Seeing how cold you were he growled something, grabbed his jacket and left. As soon as you were alone you had to sit down and calm your nerves. “What just happened?” you said to yourself and traved your lips with the tip of your fingers. The feeling of his heavenly lips still lingering right there.

***

You didn’t talk to Namjoon for weeks after the accident. Whenever he tried to talk to you you brushed it off and kept working professionally. He was getting more fruatrated with every passing day and he snapped at last. When everybody else was out eating he pulled you into the very fitting room where it happened and locked the door.

“What’s this about?” you said and tried to walk past him but he blocked the exit. “We need to talk.” he said and you shook your head. “No we don’t”

“Yes we do. Listen.” he said and grabbed you by your shoulders. You wriggled yourself free and crossed your arms infront of your chest. “Look I’m not going to act like I don’t have any feelings for you because I do. But I shouldn’t have done that. I stepped over the line. You’re married and I don’t play that game. I’m really sorry. You were not wearing your ring constantly and he’s not picking you up from work and we haven’t seen him for almost a year now, so I got confused. I’m sorry these aren’t excuses. I shouldn’t have done anything.” he kept apologizing and the need to tell him grew inside of you with every passing minute. “I hope you won’t hate me. I will hold back and something like that won’t ever happen again. I hope you didn’t tell your husband. I don’t think he would appreciate you working somewhere where the guy has a crush on you. Let’s just atay friends and I’ll get over it. Just give me some time and don’t turn your back on me. That shit hurts even more. I don’t wanna loose you all together. I promise I won’t...”

“I got divorced.” you blurted out finally and his mouth fell open. “Wha-...”

“It’s been a little over a year. We got divorced but I’m still wearing the stupid ring of that bastard because I can’t loose this job. Not this too.” you said and looked away. “Please you can’t tell anyone. I’ll do anything you want I just need you to not tell anyone. Not even the b-..” You couldn’t finish your sentence because the next thing he did was cup your face with his large hands and kiss you. You were not able to kiss him back in the first seconds out of shok and tried to push him away but he was holding you in place until you gave in and kissed him beck. Your hands were resting on his chest and his wandered down to your hips. You parted when both of you were out of breath and he leaned his forehead against yours while smiling from ear to ear. You didn’t open your eyes and furrowed your brows coming back to reality. “We can’t do this.” you whispered and his smile faltered. “Why?” he said anxiously and you pushed him away gently. “Because I’ll get fired.” you said and he couldn’t answer to that. “I’ll talk to the managers...”

“No Namjoon. You don’t get it. I will get fired if we start something. It’s in the contract.” you said and stepped back. “I made a name for myself and work myself to the top here. If I loose my job because of a relationship with you, I will never find a nother job anywhere. No management will trust me anymore.”

“But we can try to...”

“Joon this is my dream. I worked so hard to get here. You’ll understand me better than anyone. I can’t loose this. I’m sorry.” you said and shook your head. This was really heartbreaking and you hated it. This could’ve been such a pure relationship, but it ended before it could start. He didn’t try to say anything but reached his hand out to take yours into his. He brushed his thumb gently over the back of your hand and amiled sadly.

“At least I won’t feel bad dreaming about you.” he said and your heart broke into a million pieces for a man who was never yours and could never be.

A/N: Part 2 anyone??? vdjdsn