#this has been sitting in my drafts for like two and a half months

[cherrybunniesposts]

Spin Of Fate

Hi lovelies! This is a price×reader fic that has been sitting in my drafts for months now and I really needed to get around to posting it, so here it is. I cannot remember the person who specifically wanted to see this that I said i would write this for- but I hope it ends up reaching them anyways. This is my first time writing smut, so any feedback is welcome. Taglist is open as always, enjoy!

Content Warning: alcohol, cursing, fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, references to cunnilingus (oral f!reader receiving) p in v sex semi public sex if you really squint at it...

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Price didn't do parties, and he stopped doing raves when his knees popped when he squated and crouching to fix the pipe under his sink had him cursing like a sailor. He felt as old as he probably looked- and his career choice did nothing to help him age gracefully. After constantly watching his own back and then being handed the responsibility of three more backs to worry about, plucking out his grey hairs from his beard was becoming more of a weekly routine.

Price and the rest of the task force had just come back from a mission, and he decided to nurse his aching muscles and headache with a trusty cigar in his office. When he hears the familiar sound of soap's knocking pattern he sighs deeply- already tired before having to hear a single word from his sergeant.

"Come in."

Price raises a brow as soap steps inside, seeming surprised when Gaz trails in right behind him. He knew soap on his own could be convincing, but with the two of them together, they were downright manipulative sometimes. He looks between them both expectantly and watches Gaz step up first.

"Hey, cap. Soap and I were talking on the helo..and we were thinking about throwing a party here on base to celebrate another successful mission. D'you think you'd be alright with that?"

Price glances between the two for a moment, letting the silence hang before letting out a low grunt.

"No. Last thing any of us need is either of ya getting every recruit here sloppy drunk"

Soap frowns alittle before stepping forward, doing his best to offer anything he could to try and sweeten up the idea.

"It won't be not'in like that, promise. Just gonnae keep it small, jus' the four o' us."

Price takes a slow drag of his cigar, letting the smoke curl in the air around him and hide his face as he considers their pleas.

"Fine, but keep it small. You're planning the whole thing yourselves, got better things to do than plan a party"

Watching the way Gaz and Soap share a grin before walking out already had Price questioning if he'd have to drink half his weight in whiskey by the end of tonight.

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Soap and Gaz spend the next few hours chatting up any recruit who would listen, telling them about the party they were planning to have tonight. Soap decided to put his skills to good use- focusing on the food and drinks. Gaz knew a party wasn't a party without music, and he knew exactly who to call. You were his childhood best friend- that had recently picked up dj-ing for parties or events. Weddings, birthdays, renunions- if there was money involved, you were there. Gaz knew you'd do anything for a pretty penny, and who better to call for a favor than you?

Hearing the familiar sound of Kyle over the voice was a pleasant surprise, always relieved when he got the chance to check in. You listen to him as he explains he needs a dj for a party he's throwing tonight, and you agree to help him out. He gives you a time and a place, and after some catching up, you load up all your gear into your car and make the 3 hour drive.

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The crunching of gravel announces your presence before you even get to park your car, and your cursing and huffing as you unload your heavy sets was *very* professional. Fortunately for you these weren't strangers who hired you so you didn't feel too bad about kicking up a fuss while in the privacy of your seclusion.

"Need a hand, doll?"

You whip your head around in time to see a handsome man patiently leaning against the side of your car, both hands tucked into his pockets in a non threating manner. His jeans hugged around the thick muscles of his strong legs, and he carried himself with an air of self-assurance that you could only envy. His tight fitted t-shirt mirrored your own all back outfit - your standard attire for every gig you had in an attempt to feel as professional as you strived to be.

You'd feel more irritated about him calling you doll if you weren't busy trying to still the rapid beating of your heart and the twinge of eagerness that lapped at your insides when you saw his arms flex while reaching out to you, taking the metal case from you and easily setting it down at your feet instead.

"uh- thanks, sir. I appreciate the help"

You internally wince at the squeaky customer service voice you naturally pick up while in his presence- a habit from dealing with clients that you couldn't quite break when facing someone your brain interpreted as an authority figure. His low chuckle rumbles from his chest and your own chest suddenly feels warmed from the inside out, staring at him curiously as he takes your metal case in one hand and the other on the small of your back.

"Ah, none of tha', birdie. No need for the formalities - just Price will do. Let's get ya inside to the boys and get ya all set up, hm?"

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The rest of your night felt like a messy blur- between Price's hand lingering on the small of your back even as you say your hellos to Gaz and Soap and the efforts of getting your gear set up efficiently, it was easy to get whisked away in the energy of the night.

You knew Gaz and Soap well enough to know their preferences for today's music and fortunately your own personal music taste aligned with theirs seamlessly. You found yourself nodding your head along to the beat of the various songs you play, the pounding in your ears enough to leave you blissed out. Nothing felt better than when the world was reduced down to just you and the music- letting your mind drift away enough to not notice the pair of eyes on you.

Price had found himself staring far too much tonight- far past any respectable limit for admiring a lady. Except, he didn't want to just admire your pretty face while you were working, he wanted to watch the way your face scrunched up when he tasted you on his tongue, the way you would cry out when-

"Oi, Cap! Y'er cup empty again?"

Johnny's loud call roughly tugs Price out of his fantasies, a low growl slipping from his lips as his fingers curled tighter around the red solo cup in his fist.

"not yet, johnny. play with your dog fer a bit, keep yourself busy"

Johnny's "dog" was none other than Simon- always looming over the excitable scott with a quiet rumble in his chest, protecting what he considered his. Price would tease his boys more if it wasn't for the fact he knew he was eyeing you up with that same look- knowing he wouldn't be satisfied until he saw how pretty you cried out when he curled two fingers deep into your cunt.

"Donnae think I'm the only one needin' to play for a bit, cap. Donnae think I've ever seen you eyein' a birdie so hard before"

Price glances over at Johnny lowly, gulping down the last of the amber liquid in his solo cup and waiting for the burn down his throat. Would you taste as sweet as you looked? If he were to lick through those pretty folds of yours, would you be sweet? A slight tang? What would be waiting for him when he dragged you away from that platform and into his bedroom instead? With one final swipe of his tongue against his lips, he brushes past soap to stalk over to you.

He's finally found a pretty songbird, and now he needed to hear you sing for him.

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"C'mon pretty, give me one more. That's it, lift your hips for me doll, let me see this pretty cunt"

Price grunts softly as his hand grips your hip tighter, snapping his hips forward over and over again. He leans forward to suck at the skin on your neck and watches the way your head tips back at the feeling. He had been so patient with his pretty bird, curling his fingers into you with low praises until you shuddered against him three times- until he was confident you were ready for more. The title of Captain wasn't easily given to just any kind of man, and he was willing to show you first hand what a man on a mission could do.

"Such a good girl for me bird, this is what you needed huh? I know, I know.."

Price nods his head slowly, his voice dipping in mock sympathy. His free hand strokes your hair affectionately, his soothing gesture a far difference from the way he was pounding up into you- pulling you back by your hips each time you squirmed away. Your limbs felt heavy and weightless all at once, tears stinging in your eyes. You wanted to cry out- either pleas for mercy for the spasming core between your legs or whines for more. The weight of his body over yours felt magnified by the drag of his torso bumping against your clit, making every thrust of his hips an onslaught of sensations all at once.

"Come on, want to watch you cum on this cock again. You gonna be good f'me?"

Price leans down so that his arms were on either side of your head, caging you in. Never wanting to disappoint him now that you had felt the eurphoria he could give you, your back curls up and a choked wail slips from your lips. Your vision blurrs and your nails dig into his back, leaving behind marks that would remind him of you for days to come. Your pussy felt heavenly, and while it had been a long while since he last fell to his knees in prayer, he knew he would spend the rest of his days worshipping the cunt that fed him and coated his tongue in sweetness.

His hands slide into your hair and holds you affectionately, pressing a final kiss to your lips when he feels you shudder underneath him. He slows down his hips as you come down from your release, stroking your hair soothingly before sitting up and staring down at you with a grin.

"that's my girl."

[pumpkinupsidedowncake]

Why. Why am I getting emotional about the Stanley button. Why did I press it again after hearing it, and again and again and again and it did nothing, it advanced nothing, it changed nothing, just gave me a lump of unnameable feeling and still I sat there, pressing it over and over, and something in me wanted to cry and the rest wanted to leave and I did, eventually, not because I was satisfied but because if I stayed any longer I would have to give in to that lump, give name to it, make the choice to be swept up in it.

Despite myself, I need to analyze this. It was a sad sort of emotional lump. Was it mourning? The opposite? Is mourning letting go or holding on? I was holding on, in that moment. To whatever I gained from hearing “Stanley” one more time.

[kmuradesu]

.‘ENTITLED’.

husband!gojo x pregnantwife!reader (afab)

» summary: leaving the busy streets of Sendai city back to its outskirts, the two of you got a bus. there aren’t any seats available, and being pregnant meant being able to sit in the priority seats. looks like they’re taken.

» CW: pregnancy, exhaustion, mentions of jizz, bus ride, stubborn civilian, teeny-weeny angst if you squint, protective satoru, threats, all happy, no swears, not proofread!

» a/n: this has been sat incomplete in my drafts for a month, only until now I’ve motivated myself to finish it (lmao). I don’t know what it is, but I love pregnancy fics with jjk.

———————————————————————

After a slow-paced stroll through the bustling streets of Sendai City and a bunch of offers from Gojo telling you he’ll buy whatever you want, the lingering sense of exhaustion finally caught up with you.

You had managed to make it an hour and a half.

The beads of salty sweat were becoming more prominent over your glossed skin, your breath being lost easily but being hard to get back. The overly frequent back aches weren’t helping either, it was like this baby was already overweight inside of you.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as your soft, now clammy, hand weaved with Gojo’s, the wedding bands glinting a perfect chrome against the sun’s humid rays. You didn’t want to become a burden, neither a random woman in the city known for sweating abnormal amounts of sweat. “I think the baby’s had enough, huh sweets?”

Your loose gaze lifted upwards to meet his, immediately feeling the cool radiating from his cerulean eyes. Strangely, through the navy lenses in his shades.

“..yeah, me too.” You breathed.

“Okayyy, let’s get the bus back - save you walking around with that watermelon inside you.” Purposefully, Satoru presented you and your bump a judgy look.

“..thanks.”

Rolling your peepers with sarcasm, you gently swung your hand with his back and forth.

“Hey, that’s what it looks like to me!”

“Well it’s your sperm, blame your own genes on the fact it’s fat!”

“WHAT?! FAT?! I’M NOT FAT. I’M A TALL SKINNY KING! AND SO WILL BE MY BABIES!” The man was very much offended, that open-mouth and crossed brow face he pulled was all you needed to know.

“..oh REALLY? WELLI KNOW FOR A FACT ITS NOT MY GENES CAUSING IT!”

And all the way to the bus station you continued on with your quarrel on who’s genes caused your bump to be so big already.

Both you were just kids in adult bodies.

——

After earning an unusual load of overcritical glances from passers-by, you finally reached the bus station where many people stood.

Looking around with concern, your brows gently furrowed, a little confusion clouding your mind. It was good that Satoru could read you like a book.. sometimes.

“It’s okay, they’ll let us go past.”

The white-haired man muttered into your ear, placing his hands on your clothed shoulders.

“What if they don’t?”

“Oh they will.”

The way he said those words made you feel something, like it was your hormones playing tricks on you.

And so soon enough after waiting for a couple minutes, you had a glimpse of the scheduled bus turning around the corner.

“C’mon then.”

Placing a hand on the flat of your bump you both moved forwards, attempting to shift to the front.

“Satoru, I—”

“Just go baby, they’ll move for a pregnant queen like you.” He reassured, eyeing the men who weren’t moving out the way at first. Like they should, the women knew to make way, all flashing you sweetened smiles as you passed them.

Eventually you had gotten to the front with a man standing in the lead. “See?” Gojo smirked, watching you tilt your head back to see his beautiful face.

“M’kay..”

——

The doors of the vehicle swung open with a but too much vigour it almost took out the poor man standing next to them.

After Gojo, being the most pampering partner ever, paid for the tickets, he ushered you forwards only to discern no available seats. Gojo would be more than happy to stand, but it was you he worried about since you were already breathless and weak to stand.

The priority was stocked up with disabled and the impaired too apart from one space.

However that man who clearly perceived you were carrying a baby, sat in the seat in front of your face - glancing at you as he did so.

How selfish. Is he not embarrassed?

“There’s no seats left Gojo, I can’t stand anymore.”

Subtly you whined, being a little irritated that you couldn’t sit down and would have to uncomfortably stand as his baby rearranged your organs.

“..hm. Let’s see.”

“Wait—”

He shuffled to the man.

“Heello. Excuse me, but my miss is pregnant. Would you mind sparing the seat?” Gojo politely asked, hanging on to the pole situated in the middle of the aisle.

“What? Err no, sorry.”

That man was not sorry at all. It made you cringe.

Gojo’s expression paused, pressing his pastel lips together in irritation. Why wouldn’t this man listen?

“May I ask why are you being so difficult?”

After hearing those words, you knew this was going to veer off sideways. Almost everyone’s eyes were glued to the scene unfolding, all looking up from the windows and screen to see two men ‘bickering’ it out.

“Difficult? What do you mean, I was here first.” It seemed like the man had issues already, as he started to flail his hands around.

“My wife is pregnant, if you didn’t hear the first time. You’re sat in a priority seat, which where she should be sitting. Are you disabled?”

He was getting defensive. It was crystal clear that the man was not disabled, nor pregnant at that matter.

“..um no? But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not giving up my seat for some cripple.”

A cripple?!

That’s it, Satoru had had enough and was desperate to split this man in half. Not a single person could insult you because he would already be on them like a hawk.

Anyways, the fact that the nasty being had called you a cripple, couldn’t help but make you feel a little too much like a burden, and your gaze saddened.

“You’ve gone too far. No-one. Absolutely no-one, is to offend my wife like that. So, jackass, vanish any place other so she can sit.”

“Or else?—”

“There is no ‘or else’ fool. You’ve already screwed the wrong person, so I suggest you move. Don’t do something stupid.”

The man, looking quite intimated, eventually got up and sulked off past the two of you.

“Thanks.” Satoru fake smiled, stalking him ‘till he had gone else where, far away from you.

All this drama had made you forgot about the achy pain surfacing your body, which immediately flowed back as realisation hit you.

“..oof-” It had subconsciously left your lips, and it made Satoru’s brows cross.

“Here you go my love. Is it hurting?”

He concernedly asked, holding your velvet hands as you lowered your rear on the much-needed seat.

“I’ll be fine, just what I needed.” You smiled back at him, tucking a stray hair behind you ear as you breathed out.

“I’m glad. Some morons just think they are ‘entitled’.”

—————— thank you for reading! this is my original idea and have worked hard on this. so please no translating, copying, posting my work on a different platform, or modifying my work. all rights reserved - kmuradesu

[eowynstwin]

John Price x Reader. Fluff. Implications of a BDSM relationship.

At some point in the evening—for you, anyway, since when you answer the call it’s clearly midday for him—John finds the time during his latest deployment for a video chat.

He looks a little haggard when the call connects, face reddened across his nose and cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes. He brightens when he sees you, though, crows feet deepening.

“There’s my dove,” he says fondly, the rasp of his voice low and soft. His beard is growing out, curly and dark in the artifacting of the camera.

“There’s my captain,” you return, smiling.

“What day is it for you, there?” he asks, sitting back, getting comfortable.

“Saturday,” you answer.

“Mmm,” he hums, as if it’s the nicest thing he’s heard all day. Probably is, really. “Tell me about it.”

You do; John always likes to hear about your days, when he’s far away. The tiny adventures, the workplace dramas, the little pleasures and minor catastrophes of normal civilian life. Keeps him balanced, he tells you; reminds him there are other parts of his life aside from the job, and the work.

You show him the embroidery project you’re close to finishing, the little window hinges you bought at the craft store for the miniature apartment you’ve been building from a kit. It’s the same one that he always half-complains about being spread over the kitchen island when he’s home, and you always remind him that he doesn’t have much room to complain; he bought you the kit on a whim, after all, without your even asking.

At one point the door starts opening behind him—he’s posted up in a large tent, empty bunks behind him—and he quickly covers the camera with his hand. He mutes you for a moment, then comes back.

“Only got a few more minutes, sorry,” he says, refocusing on you. “And—y’didn’t mention that other project, I noticed.”

You suck your lips between your teeth, effecting ignorance. “Hm?”

“The writing one.”

As always, nothing escapes him.

“So here’s the thing,” you say, strangling the fingers of one hand with the fingers of the other, “the bathroom is so clean now, John.”

“Dove.”

“And I finally ordered my new glasses, you know, like I’ve been meaning to for months, and you keep reminding me about.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose between two broad fingers, eyes sliding shut like you’ve just told him that some important intel has gone bad. “How long have you been working on this.”

“I don’t think that’s important,” you squeak.

One blue eye opens, piercing you. Humor sparks in its depths, though when he speaks, his voice is gruff, every bit as commanding as when he gives orders to his men. “I need to go,” he says, “so here’s the deal I’m gonna offer you. If that draft isn’t done by the next time I speak to you, then when I get home I’ll put you over my knee and tan your arse until you’re crying. Understood?”

Your voice has retreated somewhere down your throat, hiding very far beyond your trembling vocal cords. “Yes sir, understood,” you manage to peep.

His other eye opens, and he smiles affectionately. “There’s a love.”

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Veni, Vidi, Vici | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: Things finally come to a head following the last of Michael's exams | Word Count: 3.2k~ | Warnings: p in v sex, virginity loss, somewhat tipsy sex

Part One : Quid Pro Quo Part Two : Carpe Diem

A:N: let's just ignore the fact this has been in my drafts since December 😘 And yes, I didn't come the first time either, it happens okkkk. Sorry if this is all over the place, I wrote half of it like four months ago and the other half last week soo

Every single time she saw his username pop up on her computer, an involuntary smile spread across her face, and warmth pooled in her belly with the memory of that evening still fresh in her mind. She isn’t quite sure what she enjoys remembering more, his flushed cheeks and glasses askew or the way he was trying to adjust his cargo trousers to somewhat hide his erection by the end of their second tryst.

After that short interaction though, she was surprised at his restraint, if not a bit impressed. She’d at least managed to avoid the irresistible pull of his company in time to finish the last of her exams. And as for Michael, were it not for the odd text message or the ‘active’ icon next to his username in MSN, she would have thought he dropped off the face of the planet.

Part of her can imagine him now, bent over his desk, twirling a pencil between his fingers, mind working like freshly-oiled cogs and pushing his glasses up his nose. Completely concentrated. And yet, he was still on his computer, with the application open, as if to test his own restraint.

And to be fair to him, he never cracked, not once. For the entire time since their last meeting and now, he never messaged.

With her own exams out of her way, she spent most of her time with Priya (albeit at the pub, with glasses of wine emptied as well as the details of every meeting she’d had with Michael Gavey).

“Oh my god, as if you are into nerdy little white boys!” she laughed with a cigarette perched between her two fingers and proclaimed far too loudly so that the entire pub heard.

“Shut u-” she retorted with a slap to her arm, “besides, not so little, if you know what I mean.”

“It’s like I hardly know you. I love it.”

“Stop it,” she retorts, sitting back in her chair with a flush to her face, “he's genuinely nice.”

“That's not what I heard,” Priya snorts, “I hear he had a hissy fit on like the first day ‘cos someone wouldn't ask him a sum.”

“He's very passionate.”

“Hm,” she widened her eyes, “let’s hope it translates.”

She presses her lips together to keep herself from smiling. Watching Priya’s mind tick will never get old.

“Oh my fucking god, is he a v-”

“Yes, Priya!”

She gasps in mock surprise, “you absolute gremlin. So you've not…?”

“Not yet,” she replies with a shake of her head, “told him we could after he's done his exams.”

“And you're making him wait for it? I had no idea you were so cruel.”

She shrugs, biting back a smile as her eyes drop to the table. Excitement bubbling in her belly.

Priya leans in, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "So, spill it then. What's the plan for the big night?"

She chuckles nervously, swirling the remnants of her wine in her glass. "I don't know, Priya. I've never been in this position before. It's like uncharted territory."

Priya's eyes widen with exaggerated shock. “My queen of confidence, feeling nervous? This I have to see."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a playful glint in them. "Oh, shut up. It's different when it's someone you actually like."

Priya nods understandingly, but then her expression turns mischievous. "Well, just remember to relax and enjoy yourself. And if all else fails, there's always wine."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Thanks, Priya. I appreciate the pep talk."

Priya grins, raising her glass. "To new adventures and nerdy white boys!"

As they continue chatting, her phone buzzes with a new message. She glances down at the screen, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. Priya notices her reaction and nudges her playfully. "Ooh, speak of the devil?"

She nods, trying to suppress her smile as she reads the message. "Yeah, he's just about to go in for his exam." 

Priya winks suggestively. "Maybe he's hoping for a sneak preview of what's to come? You know, for luck.”

“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes, typing off a quick reply of good luck, “remind me to never tell you personal shit ever again.”

“Mate, it's the suit. You're gonna see him in it and jump his di-”

“Priya!”

“What?!”

She should have known better really that wine tends to have this loosening effect on Priya. And she'd barely finished her own glass before it was time to hop off and meet Michael after his very last exam. It was the perfect day for it, with the sun blaring, everyone was in a good mood, with an electrifying and exciting atmosphere light in the breeze.

As she waited with the other groups of friends waiting to cheer on the examinees, she felt that pleasant roll of nerves in her stomach, biting her lip to contain her smile.

She thought that with some level of embarrassment, she was really really falling for this guy. Or this ‘nerdy, white boy’ as Priya so eloquently put it.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling when she saw his lanky, suit clad form saunter out of the exam hall. Her chest ached pleasantly when he hopefully scanned the crowd, watching others join their friends in celebration. And for a moment, she thought she detected the slightest hint of fomo.

But nothing compared to when he finally spotted her.

Though Michael tried to hide it, a thin lipped smile spread across his face, fiddling with the cap he held in his palms, looking down as if to hide his expression.

Her hands found the front of his suit, affectionately running over the material, “Hey. You look nice.”

He nearly rolled his eyes, “can't wait to get out of it. Too hot for this.”

The excited squealing and shouting stole both of their attention for a moment, particularly Michael's. He glanced sideways at the Felix Catton, with his newest toy, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.

She furrowed her brows, patting his chest, “who's that?”

Michael blinked behind his glasses, throat bobbing as he remained quiet for a moment, “No-one. Come on, let's go.”

As they settled by the tranquil riverbank, the gentle murmur of the water providing a soothing backdrop, they both relaxed into the moment. The weight of the exam stress began to lift, replaced by the lightness of shared laughter and companionship.

Sitting side by side, their feet dangling over the edge, they clinked their bottles together in a silent toast before taking refreshing sips. The sun cast a warm glow over them, painting the scene with hues of gold and amber.

Leaning back on their hands, they watched as birds soared overhead, their graceful movements adding to the serenity of the afternoon. Occasionally, a playful breeze would ruffle their hair, prompting soft chuckles and playful swats.

“So, have you decided yet?” 

She glanced at him over her shoulder, “what?”

He fiddled with his tie that he'd long taken off in somewhat of a nervous gesture, “it’s been 142 minutes.”

She furrowed her brows, trying not to look amused, “since what?”

He chuckled, trying to hide his nerves. “You said you'd consider being my girlfriend after exams.”

Her smile widened, a fondness evident in her gaze. “Oh, that? Well, I guess it's been 142 minutes too long then, hasn't it?”

She could see the way he was trying not to look too relieved. “Really?”

“Really,” she confirmed, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips. “But only if you promise to stop counting the minutes.”

He cocked his head, a breathy laugh falling from between his lips, a faint flush rising to his cheeks at the brief moment of contact. “No can do.”

She hummed a laugh, the lightness of the situation making her stomach flip, “Are the Carol Vorderman posters non-negotiable too?”

He threw his head up to the sky, “Fucking christ, I don’t have-”

“I know! I know!”

Had Michael seen himself months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined it, walking back to his dorm with a half-empty stomach and the alcohol to replace it with a tipsy waddle, and a girl’s hand closed in his, swinging at their sides.

Whereas campus was usually rife with busy students, toing and froing between the library, lectures and their dorms, today was calm, clear. And it felt as if for once, Michael could loosen the reins on the anticipation that had been building in preparation for his exams, and relax into the soothing company she offered. 

She laughed as he tripped over the threshold to his room, the tiniest drop of fruity cider still at the bottom of her bottle. Michael flushed and immediately went to unbutton his shirt, looking somewhat apprehensive.

“Leave it on, if you want,” she smiled coyly, watching the way a blush crept up his neck, his wide blue eyes beneath the frames of his glasses all shy with anticipation.

“...you sure?”

She nodded immediately, trying to calm his nerves. Though she could hardly blame him, she'd felt the same flutters in her belly when it was her first time. She was sure he was no different.

“Course, looks good on you anyway,” she mused, her fingers gently swatting his hand away playfully to undo only the top few buttons. Michael shivered at her touch there, sending waves of pleasurable nerves through his body.

They stood there for a moment, taking each other in, and as she set her bottle down on the desk, she couldn't help but lean in to press one, two, tipsy kisses to his neck. If she could see his face, his eyes had long since slipped shut, lips parted as if not knowing what on earth to say.

“I've…never done this before.”

“It's okay,” she whispered, breath hot on his skin, “I'll look after you.”

The cheeky smile she gave him made his heart almost stop dead in his chest. But his confession, and her calm receiving of it, seemed to bridge the gap between them, and when she turned her head to look at him, he captured the surprised gasp between his lips, and worked up the courage he'd built the last two trysts of intimacy into this one tender moment.

It was gentle at first, hesitant. But as their mutual desire overcame their initial shyness, it deepened in no time.

Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, careful fingers threading up over his nap to the sandy, blonde hair that had formed a subtle wave from the humidity. His own hands settled on her waist, pulling their bodies flush. And the softness of her lips and the anticipation of his hands drifting lower to the hem of her dress, had his stomach doing backflips.

They moved to the bed by sheer instinct, their kisses growing more urgent as she gently pushed him down and straddled his lap, all while his hands roamed her back, waist and lower towards her thighs, exploring the contours and curves of her body above him.

She pulled back slightly, her own face flushed from heat, feeling his hardness already between her legs where she was placed on top of him, “trust me, okay?”

Michael nodded, the bob of his throat betraying how nervous he was, “I do...”

She smiled, her own confidence calming his nerves, and guided his hands to the straps of her dress, showing without words that there was nothing beneath it. Michael himself let out a strained whimper when her hand crept up his thigh, and massaged his erection through his suit trousers, squeezing up his shaft to the sensitive tip.

“We can do it like this, if you prefer..” she whispered, wanting to do things the way he wanted for his first time.

He nodded, looking up at her with an expression that said everything, relief, “yeah, please..”

Her hands were tender and slow, undoing the heavy buckle of his belt and popping the button, each movement making the air feel hot in his chest. And emboldened by their intimacy, his own hands slid up her thighs, rolling the hem of her dress up to her hips, sighing against her lips and smirking when she whined at his grip.

“Fuck-” 

It was her turn to grin when she finally wrapped her hand around him, pulling him from the confines of his boxers and teasing him with her touch. His eyes dared to look between them, at her slender fingers around his cock, drawing both delicious pleasure and sending sparks up his spine. 

Her hips lowered, to grind herself on his length, and Michael nearly lost it there and then, even thinking about being inside her. To be honest, it was part of the reason he wanted to stay clothed, because he'd finish too quickly if he saw her completely naked.

“You okay?” She asked with a pleased smile, knowing her answer without needing an answer.

“Y-yeah…do I need…”

“It's up to you,” she reassured, “I'm clean, and I'm on the pill so…”

He nodded, secretly a little mortified at the idea of having his first time without protection on his part. It had always been drilled into him that, in truth, he was a little apprehensive, but the knowledge that she was careful, made him feel better about it.

“Do you want me like this?” She asked quietly, her lips at his jaw, pressing tiny gentle kisses, “me on top.”

“Yeah, yeah…”, Michael nodded quickly, his hands tightening at her hips. In truth he just wanted to do it, too wound tight and excited to care about the position.

She shuffled closer, trailing her lips down his neck as she pulled her underwear to one side. Truthfully the alcohol, as little as it was, had made her a bit needy for him the second he walked out of the exam hall. And being his first time, it was probably just as well he didn't feel the need to prepare her, assuming it'd be overwhelming for him.

Slowly she lowered herself onto him, the initial stretch stealing the air from her lungs for a moment. She could feel his breath come in ragged gasps. His grip tighten. And as soon as she felt him tense, she stopped and let him decide when he wanted to continue.

She was so warm and tight around him, Michael couldn't help at first but think it was uncomfortable. But once he took a breath, he could feel her silky walls envelop him, closing in with a desperate hold. It was hard to stay still. And that initial discomfort ebbed into relaxation.

She was about to ask if he was okay, but she let out a strained moan, as his hands pushed her hips down to meet his as he pushed up, pulling her on top of him so that she was flush to his body.

Her hands held him tight, he felt utterly different inside her than she had imagined. The stretch of him was a pleasurable pain at first, but once she'd relaxed and adjusted around him, after months of no sex, she felt herself grind on him slightly.

“Jesus fucking Christ-”

She smiled at that, leaning up to face him, “you okay?..”

“God, yeah, very okay-” he manages.

“Do you want me to-”

“Can I…” he asks, “please.”

“Y-yeah-” 

His hand slipped behind her neck, tugging her lips down to his, while the other slid down her back, pushing her down on him to meet him halfway with every tentative thrust into her. From this position, with her chest nearly flush to his, her breasts rippling over the top of her dress rhythmically, she could feel him deeper. And the sensation had her unable to form any coherent thought.

She knew he wouldn't last long. Judging by the way he was moaning lowly against her lips and how his hips stuttered as they moved.

She also didn't expect any kind of orgasm from the experience, fully wanting it to just be comfortable for Michael and nothing else. But when he pulls her down, his hands snaking around her waist tightly, and the cooling sensation on his glasses against her shoulder as he buries his head there, she finds that, whether he intended to or not, he brushes against her sweet spot.

Michael groans as she tightens around him slightly, each push inside of her fuels the numb, simmering sparks of an orgasm, slowly building, and she is powerless to stop it.

“Fffuck-”

And yet she can feel him losing momentum. He's worn himself out too early she can tell. So pushing herself off his chest, she sits up on top of him and does the work herself. Her thighs burn and she feels a bit self conscious being in full view like this, but it feels too good for her to care. She grinds her hips down on his length, looking down at Michael and watching his appreciative expression, his glasses skewed slightly.

His jaw goes slack at the renewed pace, and his hands remain on her waist as he throws his head back, brows furrowed, the tell tale sign he's nearly there. So concentrated on moving on top of him, she knows she won't come, but it still feels nice nonetheless.

And as she pushes her hips backwards and forwards on him, nudging her sweet spot more forcefully, she cries out, causing Michael to look down between them and watch the way he disappears inside of her, moist bodies slapping together.

“Oh fuck, fuck, I'm-”

Michael would be ashamed to say how much he's touched himself to the thought of that first night with her, when she knelt between his legs in the common room. Of course, it felt good. But finishing inside her, with her smooth, velvety walls sucking him in, fluttering around him, feels so entirely different. It's like being on another planet.

His hips give a few final mini thrusts up into her, before he stills, riding out his high and letting himself descend from heaven. He is only brought back, when she leans down to kiss his neck, trailing up to his jaw.

“You okay?...” She asks, her voice ragged and quiet.

Michael swallows through breaths he sucks in, “yeah…” he answers simply, glancing up at her and smiling through foggy lenses. “You?”

She laughs breathily, her fingers drawing patterns on his chest, “More than okay.”

“Even though you didn't…?”

“Don't worry about me. Tonight was for you,” she smiles, sliding off him to his side, and pulling her dress down slightly. “You did great, you know.”

He chuckles, tucking himself away, slinging an arm around her, “guess all that practice watching Countdown paid off.”

She snorts a laugh at that, the atmosphere lifting, “yeah, remind me to send Carol Vordermann an official thank you.”

Michael grins, feeling more relaxed now. "You think she'd respond? Maybe send me an autograph for my wall?"

She laughs, nudging him playfully. "Oh, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know she had such a positive impact on your life.” she smiles at him, tucking herself beneath the covers, “anyway stop talking about other women around me, I get jealous.”

“Sor-ry,” he smirks. Michael's grin widens as he pretends to ponder deeply. "Well, as long as you're teaching, maybe you could help me with all the different positions... in grammar, of course."

She laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement as he rolls on top of her, her legs parting instinctually. "Oh, absolutely, but I must warn you, I'm very thorough."

Michael replies, voice low and warm, his hand stealing between them both to slide his fingers between her thighs. “Good thing I'm a quick learner then.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

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[nadvs]

Hey girl! I’m obsessed with basketball!rafe, your write him so well! On the night of readers first visit in basketball!rafes condo, you said they slept together. Can we have a blurb on that? I NEED to know how that went

thank you so much!! omg yessss. they’ve been long distance and it’s been hard but they miss each other so much so when she finally visits, it’s intense 🤭

based on this fic, mentioned in this blurb! 18+!

» au masterlist

at this point, they’ve been together for almost seven months. and a month and a half of that has been at a distance.

since rafe moved away, it feels like all they do is argue. most of their calls have been tense. they’ve gone days giving each other silent treatment too many times to count.

so when she’s stepping out of the airport gate that late afternoon, she’s more nervous than she is excited for her three-day stay, and she hates that she feels like that.

she finds rafe standing by a pillar, wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses. he’s gotten even bigger, his muscles bulging under his sleeveless shirt. now that he’s signed with the nba, he’s at practice every morning, hitting the gym twice a day, preparing for the season two months away. always busy. often too busy for her.

he doesn’t wait for her to reach him. he helps close the distance, meeting her in an open pocket in the crowd and wrapping her in his arms. he’s holding her so tightly that she can feel his heartbeat on her chest.

she didn’t know what to expect when he saw her, considering how rocky things have been. but this feels like the best possible way he could greet her. he seems happy. the chasm between them is still there, but it’s closing.

rafe nuzzles into her neck, smelling the mix of shampoo and perfume that makes her her, and is so overwhelmed that his throat feels thicker and tears start to form in his eyes. thank fuck he’s wearing shades.

“hey, baby,” he says, muffled.

“hi,” she says softly. “how are you?”

it’s a loaded question. he’s lonely. he didn’t realize how lonely until he held her. he’s stressed. he’s out of his depth. but he settles for, “not bad. you?”

“better now,” she says.

she knows her boyfriend’s life has changed. but it’s not until they’re walking out of the building and he gets stopped by a middle-aged man asking for a photo with him that she realizes just how much things have shifted. the man’s wife shakes her head, saying don’t bother them, but the man says please, it’ll be quick.

rafe obliges, once again grateful he’s wearing shades so nobody sees his teary eyes.

“you’ll take us to the final, won’t you?” the man says, clearly starstruck.

“i’ll try,” he replies. it’s clear to her that rafe’s a little uneasy, which surprises her. she thought he and his ego would love the attention.

“you’re like famous famous,” she teases once they walk far enough away.

“that’s only like, the second time that happened,” he says, not matching her playfulness.

she can tell that he’s trying to downplay it. but the season hasn’t even started and he’s already being recognized. it’s a big deal.

“is that why you’re all disguised?” she realizes.

“yeah,” he admits, seemingly embarrassed. he really didn’t want anyone to recognize him today.

they reach his car in an underground parking garage and she settles in the passenger seat as puts her suitcase in his backseat. he sits and starts the car.

“what have you done with my boyfriend?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood. “how are you not bragging about what just happened?”

“i don’t know,” he says. “you’re here. that’s what i’m focused on. and who knows… i could be one of those guys who gets one contract and then burns out. better not to get used to all that.”

her eyebrows knit together. he’s being short with her. and he’s never spoken like this. she’s seen him unsure about himself only a few times before. he was painfully nervous on draft night. but he never mentioned anything about his career burning out. this isn’t the man she knows.

“you’re a great player,” she tells him. “you won’t burn out.”

he nods unconvincingly and shifts the car into reverse, trying to avoid this heavy of a conversation right away. she knows him well enough to know what he’s doing. she puts her hand on his.

“hey,” she says softly. “wait a second.”

he sighs, his throat thickening again. he puts the car in park and turns it off.

“you good?” she asks.

he pinches the bridge of his nose. she realizes that his hand is trembling. he finally takes his sunglasses off and rubs his eyes, wiping at them.

“i’m tired,” he admits.

she stares at him through worried eyes.

“i’m sorry. we’ll take it easy tonight,” she tells him. “we can just order food and watch tv and go to bed early. it’s going to be okay.”

he nods, licking his lips nervously.

“it makes sense if you’re overwhelmed. it’s a lot of pressure. your life is so different now,” she says. “and i know i was part of the old one, but i want to be part of this new one, too, okay? i’m here for you.”

she’s not saying it solely to reassure him. she realizes she’s hoping he’ll reassure her back. things are still off between them. she can feel it. maybe it’s because she’s slowly drifting into the past to him. maybe he won’t carry her into his new life.

rafe is speechless. his chest hurts. he hates that she would insinuate that he doesn’t have a place for her. that she has any doubts at all. he’s the one who called her after their last big argument, following days of not talking to each other. he’s still bitter about it. he keeps putting up a fight, yet it’s like she thinks she’s the only one trying.

“the only way to fail is to give up, right?” she says.

rafe snorts.

“where’d you read that?” he says mockingly. cutting.

he regrets it immediately. she sits straighter, creating distance between them.

“i’m sorry,” he says. “i’m just... i want you here. i do. i’m already thinking about how you’re going to leave and it sucks. i’m just so… on edge.”

“so, your way to handle it is by being mean to me like, a minute after i get here?” she asks. his knee-jerk reaction to stress has always been to be rude and combative. it’s her least favorite thing about him.

“my head’s not right. i’m sorry.”

even though she’s hurt and bitter, she pushes past it and nods.

“let’s start over,” she says. “i can tell you all about my flight. real exciting stuff.”

he finally cracks a genuine smile.

when they make it to rafe’s penthouse, she’s shocked. she saw the view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows over their facetime calls, but the real thing doesn’t compare. it’s unreal, the way the setting sun is glistening over the skyline.

it’s crazy. she’s stayed right where she’s been since she met him, on the same campus doing the same things, but now he’s here. the stinging anxiety hits her again that maybe he’ll leave her in the past.

“this is really nice,” she says.

rafe gazes at her as she looks out the window. he’s felt out of place since he got here. the dynamic with his new team is nothing like it was back in college. this condo feels more like a hotel instead of his home.

but with her here, the most important piece of all he knows, the place doesn’t feel cold anymore.

he looks out at the view. it is nice. but it’s been hard to appreciate it since there’s been a weight living over him, blurring things.

“you can continue the tour now,” she says.

he offers her his hand. she takes it. his palm is rough and calloused from all his training.

as she paces through the condo, everything about the place is stunning. bare, but stunning.

“i can help you decorate if you want,” she offers as they travel down the hallway. “wanna go shopping tomorrow?”

“yeah,” he agrees. something as mundane as shopping for decor excites him simply because it’ll be with her.

they reach his bedroom. the california king bed is centered against the back wall. the room offers another beautiful view with a balcony.

“you ever sit out there in the morning? watch the sunrise?” she asks, stepping towards the open balcony door. she can hear the dull roar of cars zooming through the massive freeway laid out far below.

“nah, i go straight to practice,” rafe says. “and on days off, i just sleep in.”

“right,” she recalls. he gets up almost every morning before the sun rises. his schedule has been brutal. she feels guilty for fighting with him about how hard it’s been to schedule calls with him. she pictured him living a glamorous life, forgetting all about her. but he just seems isolated. exhausted.

she turns to face him again, gazing around the characterless room.

“would you want pictures in here? maybe some art on the walls?” she asks.

“i thought decorating started tomorrow?” rafe teases. she loves that he’s seeming to ease up a bit.

“can never be too prepared.” he smirks, looking down at her with a tired, but relaxed expression.

“i haven’t had time to do anything with the place,” he says. “and i wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“all good,” she says. “you stick to basketball, i’ll stick to making this place look like someone actually lives in it.”

“deal,” he says with a soft laugh.

she smiles. her eyes drift down, noticing faint white lines on his shoulders under his sleeveless shirt. she traces her fingers over the new stretch marks.

“they’re not working you too hard, are they?” she asks.

her tender touch makes rafe’s body go hot. she feels it immediately, how the tension between them has shifted.

“no,” he mumbles. “the trainer said i actually need to slow down on the lifting. i can’t get too heavy. i won’t be able to run as fast.”

“so, what i’m hearing is you need a few rest days,” she says with a cute shrug. “you need to relax. it’s for the good of your game.”

he chuckles. within minutes of getting home, his girl makes everything better.

“thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, his hands finding her hips. her heart feels ten times lighter.

“for getting on a flight you booked? in first class? to live in your penthouse?” she says. “you’re welcome. big sacrifice.”

rafe smirks at her again, leaning closer. their lips press in a slow, sweet, long kiss. he pulls back once he feels her hand on his cheek.

“you stressed out, baby?” she whispers. his eyes are still closed an he only nods, grimacing. she strokes his cheek with her thumb.

“you want me to help you relax?” she says. he leans lower, his forehead on hers. his stomach is numb. his boxers suddenly feel too tight.

“yeah.” rafe’s tone is low. needy.

“lie down,” she tells him. “i’ll make you feel better.”

his entire body is buzzing. once he’s on his back in his bed, they’re slowly pulling off each other’s clothes.

she thought when they’d inevitably get into bed, it’d be impatient and rushed, but every movement is careful. they want to savor each other. it’s so much better this way.

she leads him to lie on his pillow when he’s left in his boxers and she’s in her panties. she pulls down his boxers, watching him spring out, the coil in her body already tightened to its limit. she missed him so badly.

she holds him at his base, meeting his eyes as she slowly takes the tip in her mouth. she watches his toned body curve as he bucks his hips with a groan.

“fuck,” he whispers. “wait, wait.”

he shifts to his side, turning his nightstand lamp on so that he can see her better, instead of doing this in the dim of the sunset.

he lies back down, placing eager fingers at her roots, desperately guiding her back to where she was.

their eyes lock as she lowers again, her tongue hot against him, slowly sinking until she has all of him in her mouth. she softly gags and pulls back, leaving his length wet with her spit.

“you’ve been working so hard, hmm?” she asks, looking at him as she palms him slowly, dragging her hand over his slick hardness.

“yeah,” he says, voice strained. “fuck, i missed you so much.”

she feels better hearing his words. all the tension between them has dissipated, at least for now.

“i missed you, too,” she whispers. she wraps her lips around him again, feeling him twitch against the inside of her cheek.

rafe can’t take his eyes off of her. she moves slowly, carefully, her tongue flicking around him, her wrist twisting and stroking. his grip is tight at the roots of her hair as she starts to move faster.

he can feel himself getting closer. he doesn’t want to finish like this.

“come here,” he murmurs, cradling her head, leading her closer.

she obeys, hovering over him on her knees. his hands drag over her ass, running over the lace of her panties, squeezing hard as she lowers to press her lips on his.

they kiss hard and slow, over and over until she can’t anymore, breathless and grinding on him. his thumbs loop under the band of her underwear, pushing the fabric down.

she wriggles out of the lace and he grasps her waist to turn her onto her back, kissing her again, finding her wrists and pinning them tightly against his bed.

“i don’t think i’ll last long,” he rasps against her mouth.

“that’s okay,” she says. “i just want you to feel good.”

he so badly wants to tell her he loves her. but they’ve never taken that step, and if he does take it and she doesn’t follow, he might not survive the fall.

instead, he moves to rest his hand between her legs, inhaling sharply once he feels how wet she is.

“fucking dripping for me,” he praises. she spreads her legs wider and he trails up to her clit, starting to trace circles.

she arches her back, pushing against his hand, already getting close. her body is just as desperate and impatient for it as his is.

“i’m close,” she whispers within seconds, her eyes shut. he stares at her in awe, so damn pleased that he can do this to her and get her there so quickly.

“yeah? you gonna come on my hand?”

“yes, yes,” she breathes, her lips parted. “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

rafe wants to kiss her, but seeing her pretty face twisting in pleasure is too good to miss. one hand keeps her wrist pinned above her head while the other works with fast, firm movements, bringing her closer.

“i can’t wait to be inside you,” he groans. “you’re all i think about, you know that?”

she dips her head back, a soft moan spilling out of her mouth as she unravels, her body weakening with her orgasm. it hits her so hard that she trembles more than ever before.

she takes a moment to collect herself, then finds the strength to sit up just enough to grip him, guiding him to press against her. he groans as he starts to sink in her and she links her legs around him, pulling him in.

she presses her free hand against the head of his bedframe to steady herself so he can slam into her without any recoil, promising him the best sensation she can give him.

with one hand on her jaw and the other on her palm, interlacing his fingers with hers, he bottoms out, grunting against her ear.

“as hard as you want,” she whispers. “you know i can take it.”

her words make him dizzy. he doesn’t build up to the pace. suddenly, their slow, patient movements are gone, and he starts to thrust in and out of her fast and rough, to the hilt every time because of the way she’s keeping herself anchored against his headboard.

it’s like he’s drowning in her. he doesn’t want to come up for air. his breaths grow more shallow, his skin gets clammier, his pulse speeds up.

his bed is shaking with every slam, hitting deep inside her, wrapped in her heat and never wanting it to end. he squeezes her hand, wishing she knew just how grateful he is for her. not just for this. for everything.

“you’re mine,” he rasps. she tightens her legs around him, looking up at him as his handsome, sharp features crease in pleasure. “you belong to me.”

“yes,” she whispers. “i do. i do.”

rafe leans down to kiss her, his body going tight. she feels him grow harder, the pressure outright perfect, and he groans into her mouth as he comes, filling her with his heat.

he collapses on her, heavier than he was the last time they slept together. but she keeps her legs linked around him, withstanding the weight, running her hand down the curve of his spine while the other stays interlaced with his.

he’s panting hard. and he can’t control it when tears sting his eyes. she notices him shuddering, and she squeezes him tighter, kissing his cheek over and over again, her heart breaking for him.

“you okay, baby?” she whispers.

“yeah,” he says, and for once, he’s being honest about it.

all of this has been so hard and discombobulating, but with her here, life feels easy. and finally, he’s confident in something again. he knows they’ll make it. there’s no way they can’t.

“yeah,” he repeats. “hungry.”

she softly laughs, moving to wrap both arms around him. he’s so big and hard and heavy, but she tries her best to hold him, to comfort him.

“let’s get dinner,” she says. she knows his diet has been strict. “cheat day?”

rafe smirks against her neck. he didn’t know how badly he needed a vacation, and that he didn’t even have to leave his house to feel like he’s on one. he just needs her.

[folkwhoredoll]

soothing touch - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: after a tiresome week, your boyfriend knows just how to help

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex, nipple play), soft bf!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever say this enough but thank you for your support! however i might be inactive for the next days or weeks because easter break is over :< but i promise to keep writing whenever i can <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

“Baby, come lay with me.” You heard your boyfriend whine from the bed.

“Just a few more minutes, Rafey. I need to finish this essay, or I’ll lose my train of thought.” You replied without looking at him, eyes steady between your laptop screen and keyboard.

Rafe groaned, growing impatient after hearing you use the same excuse for the third time.

It had been over two hours since he laid on the bed and over two hours that you refused to join him. The past weeks have made you busy, considering you were a graduating student. There were deadlines here and there, you have experienced sleepless nights for the past few days, and coffee is probably the only liquid cursing through your veins.

Rafe knew it was coming and made sure to help in any way possible, but it doesn’t mean he was okay with it. He missed taking you out on dates and golfing sessions, but it has been almost a month since he was able to do so.

He came to your house a few hours ago and brought you snacks you felt incredibly grateful for. You welcomed and greeted him, then returned to your room to sit in front of your laptop.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’ll just finish this essay, and then we can cuddle, okay?” You offered to him softly, feeling bad that you’d ignored him.

Rafe, who has a stern exterior towards other people, is always soft towards you. His eyes softened upon hearing your offer, wanting nothing more than for you two to spend the night together.

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

You flashed him a smile, your fingers desperately working to finish your essay.

Around half an hour later, you were typing out the last sentence for your draft. You inhaled deeply and stretched your back before shutting down the computer, deciding that you would just do your revisions in the morning.

“Finally.” You heard Rafe’s voice, making you chuckle, and excitedly made your way to the bed where your boyfriend was adorably tucked in the covers. “Hi, baby.”

You crawled in his arms, feeling extremely relaxed now that you were out of your stiff chair. “Hi, Rafey.”

“What do you want to do now?” He asked you sweetly, letting you decide depending on how you were feeling.

You thought momentarily, looking at the time and realizing it was almost midnight. Yet, surprisingly, you didn’t feel an ounce of sleepiness.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not sleepy yet. You?”

 “Nah. I’m not sleepy, too.” Rafe shook his head before an idea popped into his mind. “You want me to give you a massage?”

Without hesitation, you agreed, nodding your head quickly. “Yes, please. My back hurts so much.”

Rafe gave you a pitied look. “Aw, baby. I got you; go get ready.”

You positioned yourself on the bed, grabbing a pillow where you can rest your head on. You sat up for a while to remove the thin sweater that hugged your torso. Your bra followed after you skillfully removed the clasps on your back. The amount of times that Rafe had seen you naked has made you shameless in making such gestures in front of him.

Meanwhile, Rafe watched your actions as he positioned himself behind you, hungrily eyeing your bare back before reminding himself that he was supposed to help you relax.

“Lay down on your stomach, pretty girl.” He spoke.

You did as he asked, sighing relief when your front side made contact with your sheets.

Knowing your room like the back of his hand, Rafe grabbed a bottle of lavender oil from your bedside drawer. He squeezed out a small amount, only enough to cover your back. Once satisfied, he warmed up the oil by rubbing it between his palms before putting it on your skin.

You let out a soft moan at the contact; the minty feeling from the oil and the feeling of your boyfriend’s large hands on your back made you instantly relax.

Rafe continued to give you a massage until his hands were dry from the oil, giving your back continuous strokes while you were on the verge of sleeping.

Little do you know, your breathy sighs have awakened something in Rafe.

He cleared his throat after several minutes, leaning down to check if you were sleeping. After seeing your opened eyes, Rafe relaxed and gave you a smile. “You feeling better?”

You mumbled a ‘yes,’ groaning as you slowly turned around on your back. “Thank you, Rafe.”

Rafe replied nothing, instead just lowering his face to yours in order to press a kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, making Rafe go crazy. He wanted nothing more than to go further but hesitated as he thought of your tired body.

Unexpectedly, you were the one who deepened the kiss, your hands subtly moving up to his hair.

“Baby…” Rafe gasped, pulling away slightly. “Are you not tired?”

“Not really.” You said honestly as you looked into his eyes. “Feels good, Rafe. Please.”

Your words were confirmation for Rafe, making him press his lips back to yours. You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.

“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, remembering the time that your parents almost fainted when they saw Rafe’s love marks on your neck and chest.

“Yes, ma’am.” He cheekily smiled.

Rafe’s attention was suddenly on your breasts. He already had easy access to them after you removed your top. You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath.

“Rafe.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture, and you took the opportunity to start removing his shirt.

You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you focus on his shorts.

“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.

“It’s been a while.” You pouted.

“I know, sweetheart. We have a lot of time.” Rafe replied softly. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, baby. Let me take this off of you.”

You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the bed to allow Rafe to pull down your shorts and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed but paid no attention when you caught Rafe eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.

“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right-hand landing gently on your thigh.

“Rafe…” You whined lowly, feeling frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked innocently.

You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”

He smirked. Rafe loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.

Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit. You jolted forward; the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. “Fuck.”

Rafe’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming more prominent at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.

“Fucking hell, Rafe. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.

He didn’t respond, pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.

“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb to your face. “Open.”

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck.” Rafe spoke, feeling his cock straining. “I was planning to go soft on you. But you seem more eager than I do.”

After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.

You watched as Rafe kneeled before you, his eyes on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.

“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught by your parents, do we?”

Without any warning, Rafe pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.

He slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”

You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.

“Yes, yes, Rafe…. Shit.”

He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting.

Rafe felt your legs shake, and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.

“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.

He gently shushed you, pushing himself up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll finish you right here.”

He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Rafe groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.

You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the sheets around you as you shook in pleasure. Rafe looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with lust and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.

“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”

“Rafe…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. The bed was creaking slowly, and you could only hope that your parents were currently deep in slumber.

The pleasure was overwhelming as Rafe focused on every part of you as much as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt.

“R-Rafe, I’m…”

“I know, baby. Cum with me. Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.

Your heart rate was increasing, and your body was shaking. But it was Rafe’s direct eye contact and sudden pinch on your clit that pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you released.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Rafe moaned at the sight, loving the feeling of your tight walls and warm release around his cock.

It wasn’t long until he pumped several more times before he gave in, releasing his juices inside of you with heavy breaths.

Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.

Rafe pulled out of you slowly, making you whine. He cooed at you, pressing kisses on both of your cheeks. “Are you feeling better, baby?”

Unable to form words because you were still catching your breath, you just grinned and nodded, your hand rising to cup and stroke his cheek.

“Let’s get you ready for bed now, sweetheart.”

The rest of the night, you didn’t break any sweat. Rafe took charge of changing your clothes and sheets, even giving you a quick bath to refresh you.

On times like these, you thank the heavens for giving you a boyfriend like Rafe Cameron.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Calrissian

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: you weren’t quite sure how it was possible that your boyfriend lando had never seen the star wars movies. he was named after one of the characters… right? regardless, halloween was the perfect time to introduce him to the franchise

♥ ficlet/drabble - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: this has been trapped in my drafts for months so i think it’s time to set her free

“You know," you said, sitting on the couch beside him with a giant bowl of popcorn. "I always thought you were named after my favorite character.”

Lando knew this was important to you so he set an ambiance just for the occasion. He brought out the footrests, covered the couches with blankets, and lit a few candles around the room.

“And who might that be?” he responded, grabbing a fistful of the buttery snack and popping it into his mouth.

“Lando Calrissian, duh. Billy Dee Williams? Donald Glover…?” you trailed off waiting for his response.

He paused for a moment, “Doesn’t ring a bell."

“Remind me to get you into Community after this,” you mumbled while setting up the movie.

The title card for episode 4 showed up on screen as you settled onto the fluffy sofa. Once your gaze finally met his again, you noticed the big grin on his face.

“What?” you questioned.

"Nothing,” he continued to smile.

You rolled your eyes at him playfully and grabbed some chocolate to pop into your mouth.

He put his arm around your shoulders and tugged the blanket up closer to the two of you as you cuddled into his side.

“So how many hours am I in for?” he asked.

“Hmm, I think six?"

His eyebrows raised and his eyes widened, “Well fuck, good thing I cleared my calendar," he laughed.

You had gone about 2 and a half movies before passing out on Lando’s shoulder. He made sure not to move too much as he tried to turn off the current film. He bundled the two of you up and wrapped his arms around your waist, getting comfortable for a good night's worth of sleep.

-

bonus smau;

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, carlossainz55, and 208,843 more

landonorris halloween ‘24

tagged; @/yourusername

view comments

yourusername 💚💙

user1 lightsaber colored hearts

user5 I understood that reference

carlossainz55 he got those pumpkin carving skills from me

landonorris @/carlossainz55 you wish

user7 they're han an leia 😭🫶

user8 these cute fuckers

user2 missed opportunity for carlos and rebecca to be anakin and padme 😔

oscarpiastri happy halloween !

♡ by landonorris

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: happy halloween loves! <3 this was just something small for the holiday but I'll be back soon with a full smau!

[kingkatsuki]

— when you get him a birthday cake

Masterlist.

It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺

Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.7k.

Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).

But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.

How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?

Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.

By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.

“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.

“I left you a coffee on your desk.”

God, you really were the best part about his day.

You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.

And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.

It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.

“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.

Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.

“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.

Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.

And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.

“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.

“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”

“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.

“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”

You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.

“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”

“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”

“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”

You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.

“It looks like shit.” He smirked.

“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.

“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”

It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.

“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”

“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”

“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.

“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.

“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”

He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.

“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.

“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.

If he could ever tell you.

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊”Dirty whore, Eij saw you” + BKG꒱

『♡』 found this in my drafts from months ago, I think I was half asleep while writing on my phone… again.

『♡』 bakugou x reader, alcohol consumption, f! Reader, thigh riding, exhibitionism, Kirishima watches you rub your pussy on katsuki lol, ONE degradation mention only one tho, uhhh Mina talks about dick, yeah that’s just about it, idk how to finish this so I’ll just not !

You’re relaxing, spending the day together and having fun when the caramel pools of want soak into you.

Something about sitting on his lap, in your pretty little skirt, makes your mind wander. Your face heats, room feeling as if it’s risen a few degrees in temperature.

But you’re in public— sort of. His friends are there, you’re all at Kirishima’s place to have some dinner. Something about a barbecue.

To the outside eye this is a normal, pure, innocent thing to do. Sitting on your boyfriends lap is normal. It’s fine. It’s fine.

Your hips adjust a bit, clothed core directly pressing onto this thigh. Your leg bounces, trying to ignore the heat and slick beginning to bubble up. The thin, dark skirt is adjusted to cover a little more. Now no one can see the angle your hips are resting.

Kirishima gives you a big smile, handing a orange drink to the both of you.

“It’s nothing crazy, just a little slushee with some ciroc in it.” He reassures, and you take your first sip.

The sun begins to set, warm rays dying down as they begin to lay to rest for the night. People are slowly going home but the majority are still enjoying the get together.

Katsuki bounces his leg and oh. Oh fuck, that feels good. Your hips kick forward a little, pussy clenching on nothing.

You adjust yourself a little more. Clit beating like it has a pulse, and your boyfriend takes a sip of his drink. You know you’re wet, without even checking.

Kirishima grabs a snack platter now, placing it in front of all of you. You lean forward, hips hinging to grab some crackers and pepperoni. It rubs your clothed clit against him again and your thighs squeeze together a bit.

Katsuki’s thick thigh moves a bit again, dark sweatpants rubbing against you. You lean back, an arm of his finding purchase around your waist. You feed him a little ‘sandwich’ and continue talking to Mina.

She’s going on about a recent fling and giggles.

“His dick was like wayyyy big but he came two thrusts in. Talk about a disappointment!” The girl deemed “pinky” exasperates.

A couple people chuckle and you pipe up. “How big though? Like Eij’ or-“ the thigh bounces again and your mind races.

Luckily no one catches it, you don’t think. Mina starts going on about the guys cock. Talking about wanting it in her mouth, but he apparently also couldn’t be mean.

“I mean-“ she gestured length and girth with her hand “like that! I just wanted some good dick, but no!” Mina finishes, stuffing her face with a variety of snacks.

“Yeah then his dick is probably about as big as mine’ but some guys think size is everything. It ain’t. It’s a lot of work getting it to fit.” The red head offers another drink and you oblige.

Alcohol swims through your veins. It makes you bold- much too bold. Cause now your hips are rutting, lightly against the blonde beneath you.

His cock strains against the waistband of his sweatpants. Katsuki’s on cloud nine watching you, you think you’re getting away with it.

You are not.

He can feel your pussy leaking and clenching with all of his movements. So he jostles you again, reveling in the way you squeeze around nothing.

You’re soaking through your panties a bit, by now. Almost everyone has left and only you, him, and eij’ are remaining. Mina is on the couch knocked out.

His best friends eyes are half lidded while watching you. Katsuki knows you’ve already been found out. He’d been watching for the past hour, every time you’d squeeze your legs or move a little too much.

Kirishimas tongue swipes over his plush lips and he blinks slowly. Eyes flicking down to where the blondes leg now bounces up and down, lightly. Then, to your eyes, and finally to katsuki’s.

Katsuki takes note of the red head’s tent in his pants. Then watches a flush spread across his poor best friends face, and his own cock starts leaking precum. There will no doubt be a sticky mess beneath tanned skin, where the head of his cock has been nestled.

You push your hips down into him a little more and abuse your poor bottom lip with your teeth. It feels so good, your pussy is leaking everywhere. Nothing could possibly be better than this.

“We’re gonna stay here tonight, eij’. Had a few too many, don’t wanna drive.” Your boyfriend suggests and you all but whine.

“But babe we-“ He grabs your hips and pulls down, earning a whimper and a look of betrayal.

Kirishima shrugs, already deciding to clean up later rather than now. His eyes meet your boyfriends one last time before he stands up and begins walking towards the stairs.

Katsuki pulls you inside and up into the spare room. There his fingers force themselves between your legs to slick with your juice. He yanks them out and shoves them in your mouth.

“Dirty whore. Eij’ saw you.” He rasps.

Oh you are so fucked.

[allthingsimagines]

State of Grace

“This is a state of grace. This is the worthwhile fight. Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it good and right” - State Of Grace by Taylor Swift

Rick Grimes x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: The group is wary of Aaron, until he reveals information that shocks the group to their core.

Takes place in season five at the start of the Alexandria arc!

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Swearing, childbirth, fluff, and ooc Rick

a/n: This has been sitting in my drafts for literal years. It’s not great, but I don’t care!! I hope you enjoy! Also, sorry for the formatting I’m on my phone!

—————————————————————————

The group all stood on high alert as they stared Aaron down as he sat tied to the pole. He was an outsider and knew far too much about them for any of them to be comfortable.

Rick was at the edge. He would either fall off and lose himself or pull himself back. The group was doing their best to keep him stable, but after Terminus, the death of Beth, and his own wife being lost after the Prison he was close to being too far gone. The only reason he hadn’t yet was for Carl and Judith. If he hadn’t had them he would’ve been long gone by now.

Aaron was another threat to the group’s safety.

Rick stalked around him as the group watched on. He seemed like a predator about to go in for the kill. Rick had always been an intimidating guy, but after the loss of his wife and the months on the road he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully return to who he had been when she was alive.

When the Prison fell everyone got scattered. Rick had been in the yard, Carl with Daryl, Judith with the kids, and Y/N had been in the sick wing helping Maggie evacuate people. When everyone got separated she’d just disappeared. No one had seen her since that day and there was no indication she was alive. Rick had lost hope a long time ago. She was tough, but it was difficult enough for them to survive as a big group. There was no way she would have made it months on her own.

Aaron gulped as the group discussed what to do, “My job is to convince you to follow me back home.”

Everyone looked around skeptically at his words. Aaron sighed, he knew it would take a lot of convincing, “I know, if I were you, I wouldn’t go either until I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

Aaron looked around at the big group and took a breath to steady himself. He’d been following them for two weeks and still didn’t know half as much as he would’ve liked to about them. He knew Rick was the leader and had two kids. He knew a few others like Maggie, Sasha, and Glenn, but the rest of them were strangers for now. Yet, he knew they’d keep them alive.

Alexandria needed people who knew how to survive and navigate the world they lived in now. The only people in the community who knew how to was himself, Eric, Deanna, Enid, and Y/N. She was the perfect person to teach them, but she wasn’t much help outside the walls since she was pregnant.

“Sasha, can you hand Rick my pack? Front pocket, there's an envelope,” Aaron asked and Sasha complied as she brought it to him.

“There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community. That's why I brought those. I apologize in advance for the picture quality,” Aaron said as Rick pulled them out and looked through them.

“No one gives a shit,” Daryl grumbled out and Aaron nodded quickly.

A few others crowded around Rick to look at the pictures when the baby began crying. The teenager tried his best to calm her, but she just wailed. Rick pinched his brow and sighed, “Carl, will you get Judith the binky in my pack.”

The boy quickly complied as he tried to soothe his sister. Aaron’s eyes widened and he felt his heart jump at his words. He quickly leaned forward, pulling against his binds, “Your son is Carl and your daughter is Judith?”

The group all shared confused looks as Aaron looked like he’d had a world ending revelation. Rick passed the pictures to Glenn as he moved closer to Aaron, “What’s it matter to you?”

He kneeled down in front of Aaron and glared down at him, “Why do you need to know?”

Aaron swallowed, trying to compose himself, before looking up at Rick, “Did you have a wife named Y/N?”

Rick physically recoiled at the question and everyone tensed. How would he know her? Carl stepped closer to them, Judith held firmly at his hip as she was quiet now, “How do you know my mom?”

Aaron looked sympathetically at Carl and Judith before looking back to Rick. He looked as if Aaron had flipped his whole world, “How do you know that name?”

“She’s alive. She’s been living in our community with my husband and I for the past few months. She’s talked about your family endlessly- I just didn’t put it together,” Aaron breathed out and he saw the whole group react to his words.

Rick stumbled back and stood deathly still as he paled. Carl moved forward, his eyes full of hope, “How can we trust you? Where’s my mom!”

Aaron nodded towards his bag, “There’s a picture of her in the inside zipper of my bag.”

Glenn quickly unzipped the pocket before pulling out the picture and passing it to Rick. Rick couldn’t believe his eyes as he stared at it. It was her. She was leaning her head on a man’s shoulder, who he assumed was Aaron’s husband, with a bright smile on her face.

She was alive and happy.

Rick let out a choked sob as Carl tore the picture from his hands and broke down as well as he clutched his sister to him. The whole group was visibly affected by his words as they all had bright looks on their faces. Rick pulled Carl into his side and pressed a kiss to his head, “She’s alive. We’re gonna have your mom back.”

Glenn cut Aaron free and he stood up and rubbed his wrists. Rick released Carl, but when he turned to Aaron to say something he noticed the odd look on his face. Rick moved closer to Aaron and felt his stomach drop, “What’s wrong?”

Aaron looked up at Rick and scratched his neck, “I don’t know how to say it.”

Rick pushed down his fear as he stepped closer to him, “Aaron what’s wrong with my wife?”

Aaron met Rick’s piercing eyes and breathed out, “She’s pregnant.”

Rick swore he’d died. There was no way that she’d lived, but now she was pregnant? She couldn’t be.

Rick grabbed Aaron’s shoulder as leverage as he almost fell over, “What?”

Aaron grabbed Rick’s arm, “My husband and I picked her up on the road five months ago and brought her back. We’ve been taking care of her. The baby is doing great and so is she. She helps our leader, Deanna, out as her advisor so she doesn’t have to leave the walls.”

Rick tried to take in deep breaths, but he could hardly comprehend that his wife was alive and now she was pregnant? Rick grabbed onto Aaron as he fell to his knees. He tried to breathe as everything became too much for him.

His wife was pregnant and she’d been alive this whole time. They were going to have another kid.

Aaron squeezed Rick’s arm and sighed, “Rick, she’s full term now and when I left she was having consistent Braxton Hicks.”

Rick almost fell over from how quickly he shot to his feet. Lori had those during both pregnancies and she’d given birth soon after. He needed to be there for her. Especially considering what had happened to Lori.

“What’s that mean?” Carl asked, quickly wiping any remnants of tears from his face.

“They’re false contractions, but they’re meant to prep your body for labor,” Maggie answered, coming up behind Carl and squeezing his shoulders supportively.

“Take me to her. Please,” Rick pleaded with Aaron and he was quick to nod.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll radio my husband to come get us in our RV. We can all fit, but it’ll be tight,” Aaron said, looking around for approval.

Everyone quickly moved to ready their gear and Aaron took that as his sign to radio Eric. He quickly moved towards his radio that had been tossed out of his bag and picked it up, “Eric, we need you to get us at the barn we scouted. They know Y/N. Her husband and kids are with them.”

“Oh my god. Okay, I’ll be there soon. Be safe,” Eric quickly responded.

Rick held Judith tightly to him as he moved over to Aaron and clapped his hand on his shoulder. Aaron quickly turned to him only to find his demeanor much more relaxed, more like the man Y/N had described. Rick let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Thank you.”

Aaron nodded and sighed, “She’s family to me too now. I’d do anything for her.”

Rick nodded as his nerves began to eat at him. The group packed up quickly and they all anxiously waited in the barn to leave. Twenty minutes passed before Eric pulled up and they all quickly filed in. He seemed stunned by the road hardened people that passed by him to get into the RV. The RV was big, but they had a large group now and they were all crammed in.

They all sat packed into the RV, each having their own quiet conversations for a while until Aaron’s radio went off. The whole group turned to look at him as he quickly fished it out.

“Hey, Aaron, you there?” A female voice said.

“Hey, Denise. What’s up?” Aaron responded.

“Just wanted to check in and give you an update. When are you heading back?” She asked.

Aaron looked around at the group and scratched the back of his neck, “Uh, actually now. I’m bringing back that group I scouted for Deanna. Tell her that we’ll be back in less than an hour and they’ll need to get check ups asap just in case.”

“I’ll let her know, but the doctors office is kinda busy today,” Denise said sounding hesitant.

“What? Did something happen?” Aaron quickly asked, sharing a nervous look with Eric.

“No! No, nothing bad, but we’re about to have a new baby around here soon. She wanted me to let you guys know,” Denise said, with a cheery tone to her voice.

The whole group froze as Aaron looked at Rick in slight horror. Rick kissed Judith’s head and squeezed Carl’s shoulder as he tried to be strong for them. The last time, Carl had to kill Lori after she needed a C-Section. Rick knew Carl wouldn’t survive losing his other mom the same way.

Aaron’s eyes softened as he noticed their family dynamic. He remembered what Y/N had told him about Carl’s mom and he could tell it was causing trauma to resurface for them.

“How is she? Everything going okay?” Aaron asked, nervous himself for his friend.

The radio was silent for a few moments until it crackled again and a new voice came over the radio, “She can speak for herself. I’m in active labor, not dead.”

The whole group shared a look of shock. It was her. Rick quickly moved to the front of the RV to stand next to Aaron, his blue eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“And yes, I’m fine. I’m almost fully dilated, so not much to do but have terrible contractions till they come. Baby Grimes would like to make an appearance soon, so I’d appreciate if you hurried back. It’d be nice to have someone who I actually care about to hold my hand. You too Eric. How’d scouting that group go? They convinced yet?” She asked breathlessly as Rick and Aaron shared a look.

Baby Grimes. She hadn’t let go either. Rick had a child and wife waiting for him.

Aaron held the radio out to Rick and he looked at it nervously. What was he even supposed to say? Rick turned as Carl came up behind him and took Judith from his arms so he could hold her. Carl’s eyes were filled with a hope Rick hadn’t seen in years. Rick swallowed his fears and took the radio from Aaron’s hand.

“Darlin?” Rick said, his voice wobbling as he choked out the words.

The radio was silent for a moment before her shaky voice said, “Rick? Is that you?”

Rick fell to his knees at the sound of her voice. It was his wife. She was alive.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. We’re okay. We’re all on our way,” He breathed out as a hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked behind him to see Daryl behind him.

A loud cry came over the radio and the whole group from the prison visibly reacted with relief of their own as they finally had a family member back.

“Oh my god, I swore I’d never hear your voice again. Is everyone there? Carl? Judith? Please, please, tell me they’re okay,” She sputtered out through sobs.

Carl snatched the radio from his dad’s hands and shakily said, “Mom, mom, it’s me. We’re okay. Judith and I are okay. We miss you.”

“Carl, baby, I-I-,” She started but broke down into tears and the radio went silent for a second.

The whole group went dead silent as the radio cut out, but quickly reacted as she cried out over the radio. Rick rushed to Carl’s side as he stared at the radio in horror.

The radio cut back in and Y/N’s groans could be heard in the background, “She’s okay! Just bad contractions. She’s gonna need to push soon, so hurry if you guys can. I’m sorry I’ve got to go to make sure everything goes okay, but Aaron knows where the delivery room is. Deanna knows and she’ll have Spencer open the gates as soon as you get there and let them through.”

The radio then shut off and Rick looked up at Aaron in abject horror. What if he missed his child’s birth? What if something happened to her? Aaron squeezed his shoulder and shook him a bit to bring him back, “We’ll be back soon. She’s gonna be okay. We have good doctors and medical supplies to make sure of it.”

Rick nodded, seeming like he was off in a different place. Aaron moved back to Eric’s side and helped direct him the quickest way to Alexandria. Rick sat against the door of the RV, his mind running over every worse case scenario.

Nothing ever went right for him.

Right now he could have his wife and a new son or daughter when he arrived to Alexandria. Or he could lose them both, and he was sure that he would never survive that loss again of someone he loved so desperately.

Eric pushed the RV as hard as he possibly could without blowing anything mechanical. A half hour passed before Aaron finally announced that they were there. They all rushed to their feet and looked out the window to find a fenced in town with guard towers at the gates.

The group had been in one place with high fences before, but this place looked untouched from the apocalypse. Aaron turned to the group as Eric slowed as they got closer, “When we get in the gates, you will all have to turn over your weapons. We don’t allow people to have them, unless they’re on patrol or cleared by our leader Deanna or Y/N. You will all be interviewed by Deanna and then get a check up by one of our Doctors.

Rick and Carl, you’ll come with me. The rest of you will wait until I come and get you or you’re showed to a house. This community is pretty sheltered, so please take it easy around them for now. Understood?”

They all shared nervous looks before nodding in agreement. The RV came to a stop and Aaron and Rick shared a look.

They needed to go.

Carl passed Judith off to Carol as Eric quickly turned the car off and opened the doors and Aaron, Rick, and Carl quickly moved out.

The group rushed towards the gate as it slid open for them. Rick and Carl hardly had time to admire the community before Aaron waved his hand at them, “Come on. Medical center is over here.”

They hurriedly followed after Aaron and Eric as they ran towards one of the closest buildings and people stared as they sprinted past. Rick couldn’t have given less of a shit as he just ran after them.

Aaron barreled towards a house and quickly threw the door open. Rick’s eyes widened at the sound of his wife crying out. Rick shoved past Aaron and rushed toward the room. The continuing cries became louder from the door at the end of the hallway.

Rick quickly grabbed the handle and threw the door open and there she was. His wife was laying up against a mountain of pillows with her legs propped up.

Dear god.

Her eyes pooled with tears at the sight of her husband alive and in front of her. She released the sheets from her clutched hands and reached out for Rick, “Rick- oh my god.”

Rick went to rush to her when a woman quickly moved in front of him, “Woah! Okay, I know you want to see her, but you’re gonna put her and the baby at risk if you don’t wash everything off of you.”

Rick hadn’t really considered that it’d been months since he’d showered properly. He looked at his hands and found they were covered with blood and walker remains. He hadn’t even thought about it.

“Denise he can- he can stand up by my head and he won’t touch the baby until he’s clean. Right Rick? I can’t do this without him,” She said squeezing her eyes shut and crying out in pain.

Rick nodded frantically, desperate to touch his wife himself after months apart.

Denise looked hesitant, but let out a frustrated sigh, “At least scrub your arms and hands with soap quickly and put on that surgical gown just in case.”

Rick didn’t say another word as he quickly rushed toward the other room where the woman pointed. He moved to the sink and scrubbed at his hands so hard they felt raw. The sink turned red as his hands were washed clean of all the remnants of the outside world. Carl quickly sprinted in, turned on the sink next to him, and did the same.

Once Rick felt like his hands and forearms were clean of blood and filth, he put the surgical gown on and rushed back into the room.

“You have to push! Come on deep breath and bear down,” Denise said as she stood between her legs.

She breathed heavily as she pushed for ten seconds, before she laid back and let out a groan of pain. Rick moved to her side and quickly took one of her hands in his own and pressed it to his lips. Rick tried to force back his tears and the emotions threatening to overcome him as he finally had his wife right in front of him.

She tiredly smiled up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears, “Hey Sheriff.”

Rick chuckled before he quickly captured her lips, “Hey darlin.”

Her smile was interrupted as she squeezed her eyes in pain and clutched onto his hand tightly.

“How’s she doin Doc?” Rick asked worriedly, Lori’s death at the front of his mind.

Denise tried to smile comfortingly and said, “She’s doing great, but you’ve got to keep pushing. Baby’s almost here.”

Rick looked down at his wife and squeezed her hand, “You can do it. I’m right here.”

“Me too,” Carl said as he rushed to her other side.

Her eyes brightened at the sight of her son at her side. She took Carl’s hand and nodded as she sat up, “Yeah, I’ve got you two now. I can do this.”

“Fuck yeah you can mom,” Carl said beaming at her.

Rick laughed at his words and she shook her head with a loving smile directed at him, “I missed you, but watch your language baby.”

Carl smirked and he and his dad shared a look as she got ready. Denise smiled at the family before clearing her throat, “Okay, after this next contraction you need to push again. Make it count you’re almost there.”

She nodded and shared a nervous look with Rick. Rick squeezed her hand and quickly kissed her forehead, “You can do this baby. We’re right here.”

She nodded before letting out a shaky breath and squeezing her eyes shut as Denise indicated for her to push. After the seconds of silence she cried out and fell back, but Rick quickly slid his arm around her waist to catch her, “You’re doing great darlin.”

She nodded against his shoulder as she mentally prepared herself to push again.

“I can see the head. One more good push and it’ll be done,” Denise said.

She nodded and she took another deep breath, “That better be a goddamn promise Denise.”

Denise smiled and shook her head, “If it’s not, I’ll give you my bottle of bourbon.”

She let out a shaky laugh and smiled at her, “You’ve got a deal.”

She looked at both of her boys and felt determination swell in her chest. She felt the contraction come on and she pushed with everything she had.

Rick brushed the hair out of her face as she cried out again. Then the room was filled with a sharp cry.

Rick felt his whole body tense as Denise beamed at them as she lifted the baby up, “It’s a girl. She’s beautiful.”

She immediately began to cry as Denise nodded at Rick, “Wanna cut the umbilical cord dad?”

Rick nodded and shared a look with Carl. Carl nodded and quickly moved his arm around his mom to support her sitting up as tears of joy streaked down his face. Rick took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord where she directed as she quickly cleaned his daughter.

Carl helped his mom get more comfortable on the pillows as they waited for Denise. Carl pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I love you mom.”

She smiled up at her oldest boy, “I love you too baby. I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Rick’s eyes were full of tears as he carefully looked over Denise’s shoulder as she checked over his daughter. He hadn’t really felt this way since Carl was born. He felt like he was teetering on an edge as he waited to see his youngest daughter.

Denise turned around and Rick moved to her side. Denise smiled softly as she carefully passed the small bundle to her outstretched arms, “She’s healthy and looks perfect. You did great Y/N.”

She let out a choked sob as she took her daughter into her arms, “Hey sweetheart.”

Rick finally let his tears fall as he looked down at his beautiful daughter. She leaned into Rick’s embrace and gently stroked her baby’s cheek, “You’re so so loved already.”

Carl sniffled as he leaned closer to his mom to get a better look at his youngest sister. She looked up at him and smiled brightly, “This is your big brother, Carl. He’s gonna be the best big brother ever and he’s always gonna be there for you .”

Carl nodded as she lifted her up closer to him so he could see her for a moment. Then she turned and her eyes met Rick’s that were filled with emotion. She moved her daughter now to Rick’s side so he could see his little girl.

“This is your daddy. He looks mean and grumpy, but he’s a softie I promise. He’ll always keep you safe,” She said with a gentle smile as he got to look at his daughter.

Rick brushed his finger over her small cheeks and choked out sob. He pressed a kiss to his wife’s head, “I love you more than anything. Thank you.”

She pulled away from him before she leaned up and kissed him. She pulled away breathlessly and smiled before moving her gaze to her daughter, “You can thank Hope for getting us here. I would have died a long time ago if I hadn’t been fighting for her.”

Rick raised an eyebrow and smiled, “Hope? That’s her name?”

She nodded resolutely and beamed, “Been calling her Hope since I found out I was pregnant. Hope Willow Grimes.”

Rick nodded and smiled down at his daughter, “Hope’s a great name for her.”

She nodded before turning to give her boys a tired look, “As much as I love you both, you reek of blood and sweat. Aaron can take you to one of the empty houses to get cleaned up. Then you can come back and hold her. Okay?”

Rick felt his whole being begging him to stay, but she was right. He pressed a kiss to her head and looked down at his daughter before stepping away, “Kay, but you send someone for us if you need anything.”

She nodded as Rick and Carl moved towards the door, “Got it Sheriff. Will you bring back Judith and the others?”

Rick nodded and smiled, “Promise. Trust me they’ll be begging to come see you as soon as we get there.”

“Well, tell ‘em I’ll give ‘em a pass for not getting a baby gift in time,” She joked as she rocked their daughter gently.

A knock came from the door and they all turned to find Aaron and Eric standing there. They both stepped into the room and Aaron smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, we didn’t wanna intrude, but I overheard you. I’ll take them to the house Deanna is setting them up in. She’s gonna set your group up in three houses. Some of the residents are moving your stuff into a separate house so you guys will be together.”

Y/N smiled and waved them into the room, “You’d never intrude. Come see her.”

Eric moved to her side and smiled down at the baby. Aaron held out his hand for Rick to shake, “Congratulations.”

Rick paused for a moment before pulling Aaron in for a tight hug. Aaron tensed for a moment before clapping Rick on the back. They pulled apart and Rick nodded in thanks, “This is all cause of you. Thank you.”

Aaron smiled at the sight of his husband and friend cooing over the baby, “Come on. I’ll take you guys to get cleaned up.”

The boys hesitantly followed after him and to the house. An hour passed and Y/N fed her daughter as she talked to Eric.

“When you mentioned your husband he wasn’t quite what I pictured,” Eric said as he rocked back in his chair.

She raised an eyebrow at him, “What’s so different?”

Eric rolled his eyes, “Y’know for being in an apocalypse where you don’t have many options you bagged one of the finest men I have ever seen.”

She burst out laughing as she grinned at him, “Oh, I know. Trust me I was fighting off women left and right when we lived at the prison. You better believe if I see Jessie anywhere near him or my kids I’ll throw her out like a farm cat.”

Eric snorted and beamed, “I believe it. I’d love to see you take her down. She’s had it coming for years.”

A soft knock came from the door and Y/N sat up and adjusted her little girl in her arms, “Come in.”

The door slowly opened and her husband came into view and her eyes lit up. Rick came in and walked over to her. Eric smiled at the pair and stood up, “I’m gonna go make sure you guys have everything set up.”

She smiled softly at him as he moved to the doorway, “Thank you.”

Eric nodded and shut the door behind him. Rick had changed into new clothes and cleaned up his beard now. He came and sat at her side on the bed, “You feelin okay darlin?”

She nodded and leaned against his shoulder, “About as good as you can be after pushing a baby out of you.”

Rick chuckled in response and she met his eyes. Rick cupped her face as her eyes lit up teasingly, “Lookin good Sherriff.”

Rick pulled her in and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. After a moment passed they pulled apart and she muttered, “I love you.”

Rick kissed her quickly again and moved back, “I love you too.”

“Wanna hold her?” She asked gently holding her out to Rick.

Rick swallowed nervously and held out his arms and she passed Hope into his arms. Rick let out a shaky laugh as he finally got to hold her. He shared a look of awe with Y/N as he gently rocked her.

She pressed a kiss to Rick’s jaw with a smile, “You’re a natural.”

Rick smiled, his eyes staying on his youngest, “Comes with practice.”

The pair were silent for awhile as they watched their daughter. Y/N let out a shaky breath and leaned her head on Rick’s shoulder, “Who isn’t here?”

The silence was palpable between them as she pressed a kiss to Rick’s shoulder, “I- I just need to know, please.”

Rick nodded, keeping his eyes on their youngest, “Beth. She escaped with Daryl, but she got kidnapped by a group in Atlanta. We almost got her back, but she got killed before we could leave.”

Y/N swallowed back her tears and pressed her head into his shoulder and squeezed his arm, “Y’know no one would ever blame you for that, right? You tried your best and that’s all you can do sometimes.”

Rick nodded silently before pressing a kiss to her head. Y/N reached out to brush her finger over Hope’s soft cheek. Rick leaned back and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and held his daughter with the other, “Anything we need to know about here?”

Y/N sighed heavily, “They’re weak. These people never learned how to survive outside the walls, because they never had to. Deanna understands what the world is and usually lets me call the shots when it comes to anything outside the walls.”

“Any pushback?” Rick said as he gently rocked Hope.

Y/N scoffed at his words, “Yeah, just a bit.”

“Anyone I need to kill?” Rick joked dryly, his arm tightening around her.

“Not yet. Deanna’s son, Spencer, is a liability. He doesn’t appreciate that I completely changed their tactics for runs, even if it was getting people killed. Spencer and his friend Nicholas are pretty much all talk, but they’re not shy about opposing anything I say. Oh, and watch out for Jessie,” She said leaning further into Rick’s chest, annoyance filling her while thinking about the town home wrecker.

Rick narrowed his eyes at her change in demeanor. He gently lifted her chin so she would meet his gaze. Despite having just given birth to their child, she still felt a pang of insecurity claw at her heart. Rick held her chin gently in his hand as his intense blue eyes met hers, “I have killed people to protect you. I would kill anyone to keep this family safe. You are the only woman I will ever want. Tell me you know that.”

Y/N smiled somewhat bashfully at his words. Those words would have terrified her in the world before it fell, but now it was a declaration of the highest love. She nodded and pressed her lips to his. It was almost as if no time had ever passed as they fell back into a routine with one another.

She pulled away breathlessly and met Rick’s expectant gaze. She let out a breath, “I know.”

Rick nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Hope cooed and stretched her arms out with a yawn. A knock sounded out and Rick moved the the door, his youngest cradled securely in his arms. He opened the door and then Carl stepped in with Judith on his hip. Y/N burst into tears at the sight of her daughter. Judith reached out her arms as she saw her, “Momma.”

Carl came over and sat next to his mom and Y/N was quick to take her into her arms. She pressed a kiss to Judith’s head, “Oh, babygirl I missed you so much.”

Judith clutched onto her shirt and snuggled into her mom. Y/N rubbed Judith’s back with one hand and reached over and pulled Carl into a tight hug. Carl sighed and leaned into his mom’s embrace. She pressed a kiss to the side of Carl’s head, “Thank you for keeping him alive.”

She and Carl shared a look of understanding as they pulled away. Rick came over, looking like a true dad with Hope in one arm and his other hand tucked in his jean pocket. Y/N wiped her tears and sat Judith on her lap as Rick came and sat next to her. She looked around at her family and smiled, “I don’t believe in god, but thank whoever the hell is in charge up there that brought y’all back to me.”

Rick smiled and kissed the side of her head, “Damn right.”

Then a knock came from the door and Maggie popped her head in. Maggie rushed over to Y/N as the rest of the group followed in. Y/N swore she’d cried all of her tears, but each hug she gave to the members of the group brought on a new onslaught.

After each member of the group had been properly introduced to their daughter Rick stood off in the corner. He looked around the room, Hope settled safely in the crook of his arm. This was the happiest he’d seen the group in years.

Carl had yet to move from Y/N’ side, as Judith happily sat on his lap playing with her mom’s hand. Rick was certain he had never seen Y/N look so beautiful. She was beaming as she talked to Glenn and Maggie, despite the fact that she’d given birth hours earlier.

“She’s just like Lil Ass Kicker.”

Rick chuckled as Daryl came to his side. He looked down at his daughter lovingly and sighed, “This is what we fight for. Everythin we do is for everyone in this room.”

Daryl made a noise in agreement, “We keep going for shit like this.”

Rick met his wife’s eyes and she was quick to shoot him a wink, before she turned and pulled Carl closer to her into a hug. He sighed, his heart feeling full for the first time in months. Herschel had told him years ago that every day was a choice.

He would to choose to keep his family in the room safe everyday for the rest of his life. No matter what it cost.

[overtrred28]

So high school | Jessie Fleming x reader

Summary; The story of how you and Jessie were brought together one fateful night in college and didn't leave each others side ever again.

Words; 2050

Pairing; Jessie Fleming x UCLA reader

A/N; Mother Taylor has inspired me and a tiktok that paired a footballer with an academic girl and I had thoughts. Then I was wondering who to do it with and THEN… UCLA J FLEM. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do because I’m in a Jessie mood rn. Btw this has been sitting in my drafts for literally like 2 months and I haven't had the inspiration to finish it until today. Enjoy loves xx

Jessie was more than kind of uncomfortable right now.  She was tired after a full day of classes and an early morning training session, wanting to flop into bed after her long day and sleep away most of the weekend. But here she was, nursing a cup of coke in the corner of a frat house and wishing she had declined the invitation to come out with half of the soccer team. 

“You good?” Teagan had made her way over, leaning against the wall and looking down at the midfielder who was seemingly lost in thought.

“Yeah, fine.” Jessie nodded her head, hiding the fact she desperately didn’t wanna be here anymore. 

“Why don’t you try and go talk to someone? I’m sure there are plenty of pretty girls catching your eye right now.” Teagan nudged her shoulder with a smirk, downing her drink before walking away again. Jessie sighed before taking another sip of her coke and walking to another section of the house where more people congregated. 

Her eyes filtered through the room, trying to take the goalkeeper's advice but giving up after noticing every pretty girl making their way over to someone else. Eventually her feet mindlessly walked her over to the back door, the glow of the pool under the moonlight catching her eye first before she spotted you. 

Your friends had practically dragged you from your dorm, insisting you had to come and party with them, but where were they? Probably inside making out with frat guys and forgetting you actually came with them. That’s how you had found yourself sitting on a deck chair outside, avoiding the loud music and heavily intoxicated 20 year olds celebrating the start of their senior year, after your friends ditched you early on.

It didn’t bother you, them leaving you alone that is. And you could have gone home but you wanted to stay and make sure your friends made it home safely. 

Jessie only saw the side of your face from how you were positioned on the chair but immediately found herself drawn to you. People may have called her crazy for falling with just one look, but when you know, you know. 

You didn’t hear the sliding door open, too busy looking up at the moon and wondering what else you could be doing right now if you stayed in bed. It wasn’t until you heard the chair beside you creek that you finally noticed her, snapping your head at the noise and becoming encapsulated by her big brown eyes and freckles immediately. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” She apologised, her eyes somehow getting bigger and more beautiful. 

“I-it’s okay.” You let out a breath. “Just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here.” You shared a soft giggle and she finally smiled. 

“Yeah, not really my scene.” Jessie shrugged and began sitting back in the chair, copying her movements and turning your head to face her.

“Me either.” You smiled before reaching out a hand to her. “Y/N.”

“Jessie.” She connected your hands, ignoring the tingling she felt in her fingers while you pushed down the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. 

You two spent the rest of the night talking before she offered to walk you back to your dorm, after finding out your friends had already left with guys and you were left alone. Well, not so alone now. 

The next few weeks would find you and Jessie with each other as much as possible, save for your individual classes, and you were happier than ever. You weren’t dating, no but it began to feel like it, especially when you ran down the bleachers after she won her next match, Jessie catching you as you jumped into her arms with pride. 

After almost two months since meeting you finally had your first kiss. It wasn’t super romantic but exactly how you would have wanted it to go. You and Jessie were hanging out in her dorm, you studying for an upcoming exam and her pretending to catch up on classwork but really spent the whole time staring at you. 

“Jessie.” You were focused on the millions of highlighted poems and texts that sounded you on the floor but could feel her eyes burning in the back of your head. “I can feel you staring.”

“What?” Jessie acted dumb, biting her lip to hold back a smile as she watched you turn your head, raising an eyebrow.

“You know that if you don’t get this work done you’re not playing this weekend. And I already cleared my schedule to watch you soooo.” You sat up fully, leaning back on your arms to look up at her on her bed.

“Can we not just take a small break? We’ve been at this for hours!” She whined, tilting her head at you, a fake pout accompanied by some puppy dogs eyes. 

“It’s literally been 45 minutes.” You deadpanned as you got up and jumped up to sit next to her. 

“45 minutes too long.” She huffed and you stifled a laugh as you looked at her. 

“What would you rather us do then?” You asked while shaking your head at her, letting out that laugh but stopping when her silence was noted. You looked up to find her staring, no, gazing into your eyes, a look on her face she had many times but this was the first time you noted it. She looked lovestruck. 

Your mouth opened to speak again but you were cut off when she was suddenly moving forward, one hand reaching up to hold your cheek and the other moving down to hold your waist. Before you could process anything, her lips were on yours and it was as if you had been transported into another world.

After that kiss your relationship didn’t seem to change that much, still spending almost all of your time together, though this time spending it a little closer and with a lot more kissing. Something about your relationship felt so young and naive, like you were back in high school making out at parties and never spending more than a couple hours apart from one another. 

You now went to all her training sessions, sitting in the bleachers finishing homework while she prepared for their next match. Jessie loved you just being there but was getting a little annoyed that you weren’t fully paying attention as she ran rings around her teammates in an effort to impress you. She knew the perfect way to get your nose out of your books. 

“HEY BABE!” Jessie shouted up to you across the pitch. The sheer volume and urgency of her voice caught your attention instantly, looking up to find her waving her arm comically in your direction. 

“What?” You laughed alongside her teammates who were standing on the pitch waiting for something to happen. 

“WATCH THIS!” She yelled again before running back to her starting position, eyeing up the cones and dummies she meticulously laid out and the ball that laid in wait for her. You bit back a smile at her excited nature, waiting for her to begin whatever trick she was about to show off. 

She began dribbling the ball skillfully through the first few cones that were placed closely together. Yourself and her remaining teammates watched her feet intensely, quite impressed with how precisely she was keeping the ball in and under her feet. She made it through her round of cones and looked up towards you in the stands, making sure you were in fact watching her and whether or not you were impressed. But what she failed to notice was how close she had positioned the steel dummies that were part of her second skill test. 

Everyone saw it happen before she did, running straight into the dummy, too distracted by you to realise she was running into it. You heard the ding from halfway up the bleachers and within seconds you were racing down to her on the pitch, trying to keep your laughter at bay so you could seriously check on her. 

“Jessie, are you okay?” You knelt down to where Jessie was now sitting up, legs splayed across the grass and a hand to her temple, soothing where she hit her head. 

“Don’t laugh. I was just trying to impress you.” Jessie finally spoke, avoiding your eyes and producing a pout, meanwhile her freckled cheeks were getting redder than they already were. 

“Oh baby I know. It was very impressive till… you know.” You directed her eyes back to you with a soft smile, biting your lip again to hold back your laugh. 

That night Jessie continued to pout, even when you were giving her all your attention, laying between your legs as you held an ice pack to her temple and babying her all night long even though you didn’t put the dummy there, she did. 

After graduation you moved with Jessie to England for her contract with Chelsea, you managed to land a position at the University of London, teaching in the English department, a great start to your life together in a new country.  

Jessie proposed to you in January of 2022 after three and a half years of dating, keeping it private and personal by dropping down on one knee as you were getting into bed one cold night. 

Clad in flannelette pyjamas and fluffy socks, just having got out of the shower, you walked back into the bedroom expecting Jessie to be curled up in bed and waiting for you. But as you turned the corner she was bent down on one knee and holding a ring in her shaking hands. Jessie had prepared a whole speech about how much she loves you and wants to spend the rest of her life with you but in true Jessie fashion she got nervous and the only words that came out were. “Marry me? Please?” 

You both took the next year to plan the wedding for Spring 2023 before the world cup, wanting to make sure you knew what you wanted and to enjoy being engaged before being married. 

The big day finally arrived and you hadn’t seen Jessie in more than 24 hours, both of your bridesmaid groups separating you from one another for practically the first time in almost 5 years. 

It was a beautiful ceremony filled with all for your close family and friends to celebrate your love and unite your families. You cried, Jessie cried, everyone cried. The reception though was one massive party. Everyone danced, everyone drank and most of all you got to have fun with your wife like you did back in college. 

At the end of the night, after the party ended and everyone went home, you and Jessie were sipping champagne on your hotel room floor, giggling with one another in the silent room while wearing matching pyjamas. 

“I love you.” Jessie said as she stared, no gazed, in your direction. “You’re so pretty, will you marry me?” Her words were slightly slurred as her tipsy frame swayed back and forth every so slightly. 

“Too late, already did.” You laughed as you brought your left hand up to her face, showing off both of your shining rings. “Look.” You brought her hand up too, showing her own ring clad fingers to her, shock adorning her freckled face. 

“We’re married already?!” Jessie shrieked and you knew it was time for bed. 

“Yes, now come on. Time for bed my love.” You placed a kiss on her lips before putting your flutes down and pulling Jessie up with you from the floor. You dragged her over to the large bed, crawling alongside each other to then assume your regular positioning. Jessie waited for you to get comfortable against the pillows before laying herself across your chest, her pillow. 

“Baby?” Jessie spoke after a few minutes, tilting her head to look up at you. 

“Hmmm?” You respond as you begin to stroke her hair gently. 

“Tell me about the first time you saw me.” Jessie asked before setting back down against your chest. You let out a small breath, a smile donning your face as she asked you. 

“Well, I was sitting at a party next to the pool…” 

THE END

[aangelinakii]

NEVER GOING TO HURT YOU.

— it's a promise.

summary : when jason accidentally triggers a trauma reflex, he tries to make it up to you; tries to show you that he is not your trauma, and you can be loved healthily.

TRIGGER WARNING BEFORE YOU READ : this includes mention of traumatic experience and ptsd but not in great detail, mostly just describes the feeling of trauma showing up again in non-traumatic situations. the ptsd reaction occurs due to a form of physical touch, but won't go into detail. thank you for reading.

note : this has been in my drafts for MONTHS and i lost inspiration for it like halfway through so it's not really like resolved by the end, but yeah

everything had kicked in so quickly.

the kisses had started off slow, sweet, intimate; everything you were okay with, and, honestly you were feeling it, too. a chuckle brushed past your lips as you reached out and ran soft fingers through his grown-out curls, which only caused him to deepen your shared kiss, tongue softly running across your bottom lip.

his own rough fingers grazed skin, swooping beneath the hem of your top, sending shivers down your spine, chills erupting along your flesh.

a pleasant sigh passed through, and jason's grip on your skin tightened. that was the wrong move.

immediately pulled from your heaven, your eyes flipped open, and your hands fell from his soft hair, coming to land firm on his chest, and your lips screwed shut.

barely a moment passed before jason realised something was off, pulling away as you pushed softly on his bulging chest, lids still hung low over his eyes and he looked down at you. he was quick to note your discomfort, and the lust was wiped from his expression immediately, grip weakening.

"hey, hey," he breathed softly, a tone of alarm to his words, shifting away slightly, so the view of him above you wasn't as daunting. "what's up? you okay?" he pulled back as he watched you clamber to sit up. "did i.. do anything?"

attempting to read the situation as well as possible, jason knew the answer; he had, but what about it, he was unsure. the two of you had been dating a while, yet had never gone further than simple making-out. even after the months, maybe this was still too fast.

frame coming to a tremor, hands coming to clutch at your chest, you avoided eye contact as you shook your head. it wasn't that he had done something... if what had happened had never happened, you wouldn't be reacting like this. it wasn't jason's fault at all. he didn't know. you were embarrassed for him to know.

dark eyebrows furrowing, jason was unsure how to behave, whether to shuffle to the other end of the bed and give you space, or to engulf you in his arms and allow you to tell him what he did wrong. mentally deciding on the middle ground, he stayed where he was, fingers fidgeting with the soft fabric of his sweatpants; just close enough to comfort, just far away enough to reassure.

"it's okay if i did.." he mumbled, corner of his mouth dropping to a half-frown. "i mean, it's not. not okay. but i won't be offended, just.. tell me if i did."

he didn't want to plead, didn't want to beg, but your body was shaking like a weak branch in the wind, your breathing loud and laboured. one of his hands came up to linger by you, but he didn't want to overstep as he just had. he shouldn't overstep.

"please?" jason's voice came quietly, softly, uncertainly; it held an aspect you had never heard before, and you slowly trailed your eyes from your knees, up to his face, lip trembling.

a soft frown graced his lips, a tiny dimple appearing in his chin as his mouth upturned. as much as you wanted to apologise for upsetting him, the blood rushing up to your ears, pounding to the erratic beat of your heart, was much too distracting.

when you didn't respond, jason felt his pulse quicken, and he leaned forward, placing the softest of calloused hands upon your shoulder, careful and precise. this wasn't an out-of-nowhere attack; this had been triggered by something. he recognised it all too well.

down at the cave, if he heard the chance scrape of metal along the stony floor, the rush of his blood would spike, and dick or alfred would find him curled up in the shadows, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, forehead clammy.

it was like staring in a mirror.

"breathe. you're safe here," he murmured, making sure to keep a distance away from you, despite his hand, which was softly moving to the back of your head, large fingers circling soothing patterns into your scalp. watching as your stiff body relaxed, jason let out a breath he didn't realise he was keeping in.

a few beats passed and he watched you carefully, unspoken words lingering on the tip of his tongue.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to.. do anything to hurt you." although he still wasn't sure exactly what he did do.

at his quiet words, you peered up at him, breathing in heavily through your nose, and out shakily through an o-shaped mouth. his lips parted, urging to move forward and engulf you in his huge embrace, but that wasn't an option right now.

your quivering mouth opened, anxiety engraved into the skin of your chin, as if you were about to speak, and jason's soft hands in your hair paused momentarily. he wanted – no, needed – you to speak to him, tell him you were okay.

letting out a shaky breath, your eyes squeezed shut and you carefully shook your head. "i'm sorry," you said simply after a moment, frame owning a tremor, chest heaving with exhaustion.

before you could finish that sentence, jason was shuffling closer, having to restrain himself before getting too close, fingers twirling around a strand of your hair, tugging softly, soothingly. "no, no. no apologising. nothing to apologise about."

although he was softer with you than he was with anyone, you had never heard him speak like this before; deep voice barely above a whisper, but firm, like a bear hug.

"seriously." he gave a nod, palm coming to your head, patting it softly. when you met his eyes, they were filled with, although affection, sincerity. "please don't apologise."

[concreteburialplot]

Cruel

Pairing: Nicholas x F!Reader

Masterlist: here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Cocky Asshole!Nick, stereotypical cliché rockstar behavior, toxic af, petnames, fingering, oral (f receiving), p n v, cream pie, canon big fat co-, dramatic and cliché, ~making love~, happy ending, lightly edited, [you deserve better than men like this!!!], 18+ MDNI

Summary: Your long time on-again/off-again love finds you the second his tour bus reaches home. Even with your walls up, he charms his way into apartment and back into your heart.

A/N; Not my best work but this wip has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, finally decided to let it see the light of day. Enjoy 💕 Also… this almost became a Jake Kiszka fic…

“You paint a picture of us, just to burn it. Fool, I’m a fool if the shoe fits.”

- Cool // Gracie Abrams

The minute the GPS was set to home, there was a buzz on your phone that had been absent for the past two months. You unlocked it mindlessly, thinking nothing of it, but the second you read it your heart sunk to your stomach.

❌DO NOT ANSWER❌:

Gonna be back in town around midnight.

See you then?

Absolutely not. Why would you do that to yourself again. Yet, against your better judgement, you answered.

No.

You sent back simply, with your heart pounding in your ears.

He replied almost immediately. The speed of it made your heart flutter but you had to remind yourself that he was probably just bored on a tour bus. That you were probably just the easiest option after having an endless pick of groupies on the road.

Oh, c’mon don’t be like that

We could have fun

The thought of having him again sent a wavering behind your ribs that you quickly tried to squash down. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. No, no, no – you repeated in your head like a mantra.

You: I don’t have fun with you.

Nick: It sure didn’t seem like that before I left

It was a half lie. While you did have fun together, he always came at a cost. He was never yours, not fully. Right before tour was always the worst.

While he was home everything felt different – domestic even at times, and each time you convinced yourself it’d be different, that that time would be the one to stick, that he would stay yours. But then weeks leading up to tour things would change, he’d grow distant, and fights would spawn out of nothing. In an instant, he wasn’t the man you were in love with. Love wasn’t a word you ever threw around in your label-less relationship, but it was felt, at least on your end. Regardless, sex was the one thing that always kept you two together – but it made you weak and pliable.

You: That’s not true and you know it

Nick: Just let me see you, we can talk about it

You mulled it over in your head. Your heart wanted nothing more than to see him again but that was exactly the reason you needed to resist. It was a war between your head and your heart and for once, your head was winning. You were sick of the rollercoaster of loving him, sick of getting your heart broken repeatedly. This tour was the biggest and longest they’d ever done, almost double their usual length, and the fallout with him before he left was the most damaging it’d ever been. The extra time apart allowed you to process the pain and assess the relationship. You’d been able to accept it for what it was and come to terms with the fact that you’d never have him the way you’ve always craved. While he was away, you grieved the crumbs of your situationship and chose yourself for once. Though, the pain that bloomed from that decision felt like a betrayal to your heart in the moment, but you knew it was for the better.

You know it’s for the better.

You: I don’t want to see you, Nicholas.

Nick: I wasn’t aware we were lying to each other now

Heat rose to your cheeks and your stomach churned in anger and pain as your brain flooded with infinite memories of him lying to you.

You: Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you

Nick: Just let me see you

You: No. Why the fuck should I let you

Nick: I wanna talk Nick: I have something for you

You: I don’t want anything from you

Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. Sometimes he’d bring you little nothings from his travels, but nothing notable or worthy of being a bargaining chip.

Nick: Just let me see you.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, his persistence was wearing you down. It’s a horrible thing to be lovesick for a man who gives you just enough slices of dopamine to make you forget why you were mad or cautious in the first place. It was toxic and thrilling all at once. It was nothing but lies – both from him and yourself. Your heart was beginning to feed you false truths like: he could just come over, you’d call him on his bullshit and let him leave without him getting to you.

You gave into him, like you always did.

You: Fine. But you leave when I tell you to. Nick: No problem. See you in an hour.

You mentally scolded yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel the flurry of butterflies running rampant in your stomach.

After a while, you checked the time and noted that about an hour and a half had passed. Fear and disappointment trickled down your spine at the idea that he might not even show up after you gave into him like a fool. It made you sick to your stomach even though it wouldn’t be the first time he’d done that.

About 10 minutes later you heard a knock at the door and adrenaline spiked in your bloodstream. You took a look in your full-length mirror and smoothed out your silhouette. While you fed yourself the lie that nothing was going to happen, your hands chose a flowy sundress that laid mid-thigh.

When you opened your door, you were met with Nick in comfy clothes, clearly fresh from off the tour bus. As indifferent as you should’ve been, you couldn’t help but take notice of how good he looked with his hair up in a messy bun. Still, just the sight of him felt like a dagger through your already bleeding heart. It was a torturous duplicity being so in love with him, yet so heartbroken from just looking at him. All the work you did to suppress and heal your wounds crashed back down to square one. The second he spoke you knew you’d made a horrible mistake.

“Hey.” He smiled and you could tell he suppressed a smirk.

“Hey.” You replied flatly. Your resiliency was already begging to falter. You hadn’t heard his voice in months, and it stirred something in you – something both vicious and compelling. You came to realize that this was a dangerous game you chose to play.

His eyes fluttered down your frame, soaking in the vision of you completely. “You look,” He paused, and you expected something vulgar, but he surprised you. “Fantastic.”

A peachy hue grew on the tops of your cheeks at the compliment, and you silently reprimanded yourself for letting him get to you already.

He stepped closer to you, brushing your hair just behind your bare shoulder to admire you fully. “All this for me?”

And just like that, the flutter in your stomach fell along with the edges of your lips. Your eyes begged to roll at the question, but you restrained it to just a scowl.  “What are you doing here, Nick?”

“To see you silly.” He said nonchalantly while his crystal eyes held something more you couldn’t place – it was like a glint of something deeper than he was letting on. “Now let me in, won’t you?”

You sighed and stepped aside to let him past you. “You said you wanted to talk?” You pressed against the door to close it behind you. When it clicked into place you rested flat against it with your arms crossed.

His head tilted around the small space to take it in, even though it wasn’t drastically different, any remanence of him was gone. Then, he met your eyes again to answer your question. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

You groaned, unraveling your arms to ball your fists at your sides. “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

So much for keeping your cool.

He huffed out a maddening laugh. “All worked up, are we? Must’ve been really frustrated while I was gone.”

“Actually, it’s been real fucking peaceful.” Your arms crossed back over your chest. “What do you want, Nicholas?”

“I wanted to see you.” He said earnestly, this time with less smugness to it. “And to give you this.” His arm went behind himself and into his back pocket only to pull out a palm-sized stuffed black cat. He held the sitting stuffie in his hand on display.

Your heart sunk the second your eyes landed on the stuffed toy. Both anger and heartache bubbled into your stomach, into your veins and all across your skin. Your shoulder muscles stiffened reflexively. “Why the fuck would you bring me that?”

The truth was that the cat contained more than just stuffing – it represented a past floating idea of a shared black cat between you. Whenever you two were at your best, you discussed adopting one together. You’d keep it at your place since he’s so often away from home, but it would be shared nonetheless. It never happened of course, but there he was holding a physical placeholder for it.

“I saw it and thought of you.” He said infuriatingly nonchalant, though you couldn’t tell if the ignorance was genuine or not.

You crossed the threshold between you and snatched the stuffie from his hand. You squeezed it by its sides in front of his face, “This is cruel, and you know it.”

While you were fuming, there was still a small pathetic part of you that swooned at the fact that he remembered such a small thing.

He reached out to graze up your jaw to your chin. “Even when you’re pissed at me you’re beautiful.”

You smacked his hand away from you, not wanting anything to do with him or his dizzying games. “You are such a fucking prick, and you know it. You know what this little toy means to me, and it means nothing to you.” You nearly spat at him while you shoved a finger into his sternum.

He grasped your wrist, keeping it in place as he stepped forward. “Who said it doesn’t?”

The air between you seemed to dissipate, leaving your throat barren of oxygen. Yet, your self respect held strong against his convincing words. “You’re a liar. A cruel liar.”

He closed the gap between you further until his lips were hovering just above your own. “I’m not lying.” Your nose filled with his scent – peppery cologne, weed and beer. It wasn’t the most pleasant mixture of smells, but it was him and he was something you’d missed and longed for the past two months. His smell and his proximity had your chest swirling with love and desperation. You wanted – no – you needed him to be telling the truth this time. It had to be the truth.

“I’m not lying.” He replied softly with his eyes falling from your own to your lips then meeting your gaze once more. “Let me show you how honest I’m being.”

It wasn’t your smartest move, giving into him so effortlessly. He just made it so easy to believe anything that came out of his pretty mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time you fell for his tricks and unfortunately, something told you it wouldn’t be the last.

When your lips met, it was electric, sparking and hot. You weren’t sure if that was just what he’d always felt like or if it had just been months since he touched you last.

It didn’t take long before his fingers frantically tangled in your hair. You matched his energy, curling fists into the base of his bun. He stumbled you both back onto your couch with your lips glued to each other’s. The kiss was full of fire and pent-up tension.

You ended up with both knees on either side of his hips. Your lips landed on the spiderweb tattoo on his neck, immediately sucking at the ink. He let out a hiss at the intensity of your suction. Your hips swiveled over the bulge growing in his pants.

“Fuck.” He groaned and tugged at the hem of your dress, silently asking you to pull it off.

You detached from his neck briefly and yanked the sundress off your body tossing it on the floor. Before you could return to your spot on his neck, he grabbed your face to meet his lips again. It was messy with teeth clashing and hasty tongues fighting for dominance.

Your hands fumbled between your bodies to unzip his jeans to let him out. You wondered how he was even able to stay in his pants with his massive size when he was hard. You took him in one hand while the other stabilized you on his shoulder. He groaned into the kiss as you worked him in your hand.

His fingers curled tightly into your hair, “I need to fucking be inside you.” He all but growled.

You nodded quick and breathless, you needed just the same. You tugged away and spit multiple times onto his impressive size. It had been months since you’ve had him, there’s no way this wasn’t going to hurt.

You lifted on your knees, as much as you could, Nick helped by pushing your panties to the side and sliding his fingers up and down your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.” His fingers dipped inside you, just a fingertip deep to gather some of your juices and used it to better coat your entrance. He paused and his brows furrowed a bit. With how full you felt with just one finger you could only imagine what he was thinking. “You’re going to need more prep than this for me.”

You whined, but you knew he was right. It had been so long since you’d taken him, and your cunt needed time to refamiliarize itself with his size.

Your hand never halted on his length, and it was obvious on his twisted features and his mouth slightly parted. No matter how angry you were at him, it didn’t take away from how pretty he looked when he was drunk off of you.

He pumped his finger slowly in and out of you just to set a pace before adding another. A small gasp fell from your lips at the addition and stilled all of your movements.

“Just relax baby,” He soothed, and you softened in his hold. “That’s it, let me take care of you.”

It was a weighty thing to ask of you, but your mind turned to mush the second his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. Your eyes rolled back, and your chest gave way to him. “Fuck, Nick.” You muttered out pathetically.

“I missed you.”

-was the last thing you expected to hear from him in that moment, but you were so lost in euphoria that you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Mmmhm.” You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed. “Missed you too, Nicky.”

You were absolute putty in his hands, he knew exactly how to work you into whatever he wanted. You were easily pliable to him, and in that moment, he was grateful for it. He placed a soft kiss to your collarbone, then another at the base of your neck. “Missed me how, angel? Tell me.” He whispered, his voice low and crackly.

Your jaw fell slack when he added a third finger but you were so worked up that it hadn’t been that difficult. It still burned but the pleasure he was supplying to your clit was overshadowing any pain.

“Use your words, princess. Let me hear how much you missed me.” He was practically begging you for any morsel you’d give him. He’d never admit it but he was desperate for you too. “Tell me baby, did you touch yourself thinking about me?”

Your head lulled to the side, cascading your hair over your shoulder. “Uh huh.” Was all you could muster.

“Mmm. Like this?” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that was rarely touched by you or anyone else.

You gasped at the feeling in tandem with his thumb on your clit. His fingers pulsed against the soft inner tissue in a rhythm that made your brain numb. It was a spot only he had ever really been able to reach, either with his fingers or his cock. He knew your body better than anyone else ever had and he was good at it.

A smirk played across his lips, evidently satisfied with your response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The warning of an orgasm burned in the pit of your tummy, filling it with tingling warmth. It must’ve been all over your face because he caught on quickly. “Oh, what’s wrong? Is my pretty girl going to cum already?” He spoke smoothly up your neck while his fingers increased their speed ever so slightly, just enough to tip you over the edge.

You abruptly grabbed hold of his shoulder, squeezing it with every bit of strength inside you as your orgasm washed over you. The euphoria began just below your navel then spread electricity across your skin. You felt it everywhere, down to your fingers and your toes.

He let out a satisfied chuckle against your throat, “That’s my girl.” He praised and held you as your body began to collapse against him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

When you were finally spent is when he really came to life.

“Fuck I need to taste you.” He exhaled and as soon as you nodded, he snatched you, holding you with both hands securely below your ass. He was in a frenzy, like a shark that just smelled blood. “I want to taste all of you, every bit of mess you just made.”

He hastily carried you over to the bed across the room in your small apartment. He laid you gently, but impatiently, on the edge of the bed with his lips planted on yours.

You barely had time to miss his lips before his tongue latched onto your clit and his fingers returned to their place inside you. He brought you back down to just two fingers in order to give you a bit of reprieve.

Your mouth immediately created an ‘O’ shape with wide eyes at the skill of his tongue. “O-Oh.”

He ate you hungrily as if he hadn’t had pussy in weeks which historically, when he’s off on tours, was quite the opposite. He gave you no time to get caught up in your thoughts with the way his tongue slithered ‘S’ motions from your clit to your entrance, then taking his time at your throbbing bud. He lapped up every bit of your orgasm, not wanting to leave anything behind. The feeling bloomed a sparking heat from the pit of your core to the rest of your body and you silently cursed him for making you feel so good.

When you glanced down you noticed that while he was bent eating you, his hand had been on his cock – gliding up and down swiftly and in rhythm with his fingers and tongue. You thought that might’ve been the hottest thing you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the way he couldn’t not touch himself while eating you.

You let out a tiny moan at the sensation of his tongue against your swollen clit. But god did he feel good. It had to have been his extensive body count that made him good in bed and while you didn’t like thinking about it, you were surely grateful for it in the moment. His tongue expertly spun around your nub with various patterns. You couldn’t help but wiggle around at the stimulation to which he hooked his arms around your thighs and brought you to the edge of the bed. His knees met the wood floors, his tongue never once wavering. When he pulled your bud into his mouth with a suck you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

You shook your head, while he felt amazing, you needed more. “I need your cock, Nick, please.” You begged, pathetically.

His lips curled into a smirk against your core, placing a soft kiss at your clit. “Whatever you wish, princess.”

Your heart swelled and your tummy swirled at the name, it was your favorite, and he knew it. You were convinced it was the best sound in the world when it fell from his lips.

He pressed kisses up until your mid torso before pulling away. You whined at the loss of contact, but you knew it was only for something better. You squirmed at the attention and parted your legs even further, wanting more.

“Look at you, all laid out for me.” He cooed, with his eyes wandering across your body trying to choose his favorite part of you. His fingers trailed up your thighs, taking his time to savor your skin. “Okay, now baby, take a deep breath for me, will you?”

You did as he instructed but your breath hitched in your throat as he slid his fingers inside you once more, this time adding a third finger again. It burned a bit, being stretched out that much, but you knew it had to be done in order to take him fully.

“Good girl.” He hummed as he began pumping his fingers in a slow pace. After some time familiarizing you with the span of his fingers, he decided he wanted to take it further. “Actually, can I have you a different way?”

You nodded, too fucked out to deny him of anything.

His hands were rough when he flipped you over onto your stomach. His pointer and ring fingers slid up, spreading your lips open to let the tip of his cock sit at your entrance. He leaned down to just beside the shell of your ear.

“I wanna hear how bad you want it.”

You let out a near guttural groan at the statement. You were clenching around nothing just at his proximity.

“Oh c’mon, I can feel how bad she wants me.”

“Please, please I need your fucking cock.” You begged.

He smirked against your skin, “Good girl.” His hips moved forward, slowly pushing himself into you. You could feel yourself parting around him painfully, even with the prep you did. Your hips stiffened up not quite remembering how to take him. He took his time, carefully moving deeper inside you.

“Now tell me baby,” He hummed, dipping his fingers down between you. His fingertips slid around his girth to feel where you and he became one. You wondered if he could feel the burn that he was causing. “Has anyone else touched this pretty pussy while I’ve been gone?”

The question caught you off guard, quite literally the last thing you ever thought he’d ask you in this situation. Your eyes instinctively wanted to widen but you squeezed them shut instead. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, but you hoped he didn’t notice.

“Oh, c’mon now, be honest.” He teased in a patronizing tone.

You swallowed all the saliva left in your mouth and pressed your lips shut tight. You knew you couldn’t lie to him, especially not in such a vulnerable position. The truth was that you tried any and everything to get him out of your mind - which landed you some vices in your time apart. You and Nick weren’t anything of substance, nothing official. You were sure Nick had to know since it had come up previously and he never seemed phased by it – you knew about his tour hookups, how would this be any different. Regardless, you had no idea why he was even bringing it up and wished he wouldn’t.

He didn’t seem to like your silent pause and halted his movements. “If you don’t answer I’ll stop.” He threatened.

You groaned in frustration and threw your head down into the mattress. “Fine, fine,” You spat out in defeat. “Yes. One.”

“Hmm.” He stretched out the noise to emphasize his disbelief. “I think you’re a poor liar.” His fingers grazed over your clit briefly, just to remind you what you were missing. “Don’t lie to me baby, you won’t like the outcome.”

You sighed, feeling defeated and helpless beneath him. “Two.” It was the honest truth. One of them he knew about, a long-time casual friends with benefits. The other, was a drunken mistake from the bar on a particularly lonely night.

He sheathed himself fully inside you, “Yeah I can tell.” He said in a pointed tone, and it caused your brows to furrow, wondering what exactly he meant by that. “Oh, don’t worry I don’t mean it that way.” His fingers trailed down your side to hook into your hip, pulling you flush against him. “I can tell by the way you’re trying to adjust to me.” His voice was smooth and deep. “Like your body got too comfortable with something less than me.” His hips shifted back just to fall back into you, hitting you right in the spot that made your stomach twist. It was painful but delicious, reminding you exactly why you’d made this mistake with him so many times. “Or is that what you prefer now?”

You shook your head quickly, you didn’t want anything other than him, you never had. As rocky as your relationship had been, Nick was always the one who owned your heart. It never for one second had been held by anyone other than him in the past couple years. It was sad how loyal you were to him when it was obvious that he never felt the same – at least not in a committed way. “No.” You breathed out. “I want you, Nick.” You looked over your shoulder to meet his eyes and they were filled with something that felt almost like jealousy, but you’d never known Nicholas to be jealous. He’d always been very fluid about your connection – always very clear about the openness of your relationship.

“Say it again.” He demanded while his hands held your hips in place as he slammed back into you in one swift move. His tip landed straight into your cervix, causing a jolt of pain up your spine.

“I want you, Nick.” You repeated with a strained voice.

He finally began a slow rhythm in and out of you, almost like a reward for listening to him. He reached forward and grasped your chin to get you to look back at him again. “Again.”

Your brows knitted at his request – it seemed almost cruel for him to have you repeat the obvious. “I want you.” You whispered. Tears began to well up in your eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was from your emotions or from the burn of him stretching you out. He squeezed your cheeks at the sight of your tears, silently asking you again. “I want you.” You squeaked out, trying to keep the tightness in your chest at bay. “I want you, I want you, I want you.” You repeated over and over, now letting tears flow freely down your cheeks. It bloomed an ache in your chest that you never wanted to feel in the middle of sex.

Suddenly, you felt him pull from you completely but before you got a chance to question it, he flipped you over onto your back. You were only vacant of him for a millisecond before he slid back into place between your legs. He hovered over you, his unraveled hair gathered onto one side of his head, brushing against your shoulder. “I don’t want you to ever question that again.”

“I never did.” You admitted embarrassingly quick. “What’s this about?” You questioned, wondering why you were having this conversation while he was still inside you. Though, he was never one to choose an appropriate time to talk about things.

“I missed you.” He repeated his statement from earlier that you were too fucked out to process. His voice was raspy with lust, but genuine. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You blinked up at him and shook your head, not wanting to get caught up in his empty promises. “Can we just talk about this later?” Although, the moment had already been squandered for you.

“No.” He continued his slow and steady pace while his eyes were set on yours. “I mean it. I want this. I want us.”

Your eyes grew wide in disbelief. You’d never heard him sound so serious about anything, nonetheless about you. “You do?”

“I’ve been an idiot. All I wanted to do was come home to you.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “And the idea of someone else touching you makes me sick. I’m selfish. I want you all to myself. I want you to be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Nick.” You whispered with brows curved up in sincerity. Even with flings and vices your heart never beat for anyone else, you could never love another – no matter how stupid it made you look. You were stuck on him whether you liked it or not. You’d always been his even when he wasn’t yours, even when he wanted nothing to do with you.

His grey eyes shifted between your glossy eyes trying to read your honesty. He said nothing more before uniting your lips into the deepest kiss you’d ever felt. Love was a whisper lingering on your tongue, but you knew tonight wasn’t the night for that. Passion quickly spread from your heated kiss to the speed of his hips. His thrusts were fast and hard, though they weren’t fueled by a promise of an orgasm but rather by a need to show you exactly how he felt. Your entire body bounced against his rough repetitions, and it was overwhelming in the best way.

His head fell into your neck, his heavy breaths against your sensitive skin sent tingles across your body. “You’re taking me so well.” He muttered below your ear. His hand found your leg and ran his fingers beneath it, pulling it up from behind your knee and bending it towards you as far as it would allow. The new position spread you out even more and made sure you felt everything – the way the head of his cock embedded itself into your g-spot and the way your walls stretched around him. “Doesn’t that feel good baby, being so full?”

You let out a moan as your eyes rolled back. “Fuck yes.” It was the truth, no one ever filled you like he did.

“Uh-uh.” His hand grasped your cheeks. “Eyes on me.”

The sensations of everything were enough to fill your clit with buzzing need and you gasped when his thumb found it. Your eyes widened as he began rolling small circles into it in time with his quick pace.

“Oh-oh.” You stuttered out pathetically as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap already.

“Take your time baby, there’s no rush.” He soothed but it only accelerated your already impending orgasm. Your fingers curled into his arms harshly, surely hard enough to leave half-moon imprints into his skin. “Oh, I know, I know.” He comforted.

That’s all it took to unravel you. Tingly warmth spread across your body, making every inch of you feel blissful. It was enough to temporarily blind your vision as you got lost in the immense pleasure that was overtaking your entire being.

“That’s it angel, just like that. I want all of it.” He said softly below your ear, but it was clear with the shakiness of his own voice that he was close too.

His speed became rapid and erratic as he sensed you reaching the height of your peak. “Fuck.” He murmured into your neck as he slammed his hips into yours faster than you could process. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.”   

All you did in response was cross your legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. It didn’t take long for him to meet you in your climax. You felt his cock twitch and pulse inside of you followed by warmth pooling in the deepest part of you.

When the moment was over, Nick took his time, tenderly ensuring you were both clean and comfortable. Aftercare was something he never skipped, but tonight, he seemed especially patient and tender. Once he’d helped you into your favorite pajamas and made a warm cup of tea, he pulled you gently into his side.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” he said, peering down at you with a sincerity that made your heart ache.

You gave him a small knowing nod, too spent to say more. Curled against his side, a quiet apprehension settled over you, memories of past mistakes lingered softly at the edges of your mind. He was the last person you should trust, but your heart couldn’t summon the strength to turn him away. So, you chose to believe in him once more, silently hoping this time would be different and that his words were true. As he held you tighter than ever, your choice felt right. Finally, he was yours, and you were his.

A/N; thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts<3

Taglist; @measuredingold @ladyveronikawrites @deathblacksmoke @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 6: Athena, Goddess Of Wisdom]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 5.2k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Here at the midway point in our journey—like Dante stumbling upon the gates of the Inferno—would it be the right moment to review what’s at stake? Let’s begin.

It’s the end of August. The delegates of the Democratic National Convention in Chicago officially vote to name Aemond the party’s presidential candidate. His ascension is aided by 10,000 antiwar demonstrators who flood into the city and threaten to set it ablaze if Hubert Humphrey is chosen instead. At the end—in his death rattle—Humphrey begs to be Aemond’s running mate, one last humiliation he cannot resist. Humphrey is denied. Eugene McCarthy, dignity intact, boards a commercial flight to his home state of Minnesota without looking back.

Aemond selects U.S. Ambassador to France, Sargent Shriver, to be his vice president. Shriver is a Kennedy by marriage—his wife, JFK’s younger sister Eunice, just founded the Special Olympics—and has previously headed the Office of Economic Opportunity, the Peace Corps, and the Chicago Board of Education. He also served as the architect of the president’s “War on Poverty” before distancing himself from the imploding Johnson administration. Shriver is not a concession to fence-sitting moderates or Southern Dixiecrats, but an embodiment of Aemond’s commitment to unapologetic progressivism. Richard Nixon spends the weekend campaigning in his native California, a gold vein of votes like the mines settlers rushed to in 1848. George Wallace announces that he will run as an Independent. Racists everywhere rejoice.

Phase III of the Tet Offensive is underway in Vietnam; 700 American soldiers have been killed this month alone. Riots break out in military prisons where the U.S. Army is keeping their deserters. The North Vietnamese refuse to allow Pope Paul VI to visit Hanoi on a peace mission. President Johnson calls both Aemond and Nixon to personally inform them of this latest evidence of the communists’ unwillingness to negotiate in good faith. Daeron and John McCain remain in Hỏa Lò Prison. The draft swallows men like the titan Cronus devoured his own children.

In Eastern Europe, the Russians are crushing pro-democracy protests in the largest military operation since World War II as half a million troops roll into Czechoslovakia. In Caswell County, North Carolina, the last remaining segregated school district in the nation is ordered by a federal judge to integrate after years of stalling. On the Fangataufa Atoll in the South Pacific, France becomes the fifth nation to successfully explode a hydrogen bomb. In Mexico City, 300,000 students gather to protest the authoritarian regime of President Diaz Ordaz. In Guatemala, American ambassador John Gordon Mein is murdered by a Marxist guerilla organization called the Rebel Armed Forces. In Columbus, Ohio, nine guards are held hostage during a prison riot; after 30 hours, they’re rescued by a SWAT team.

The latest issue of Life magazine brings worldwide attention to catastrophic industrial pollution in the Great Lakes. The first successful multiorgan transplant is carried out at Houston Methodist Hospital. The Beatles release Hey Jude, the best-selling single of 1968 in the U.S., U.K., Australia, and Canada. NASA’s Apollo lunar landing program plans to launch a crewed shuttle next year, just in time to fulfill John F. Kennedy’s 1962 promise to put a man on the moon “before the end of the decade.” If this is successful, the United States will win the Space Race and prove the superiority of capitalism. If it fails, the martyred astronauts will join all the other ghosts of this apocalyptic age, an epoch born under bad stars.

The night sky glows with the ancient debris of the Aurigid meteor shower. From down here on Earth, Jupiter is a radiant white gleam, visible with the naked eye and admired since humans were making cave paintings and Stonehenge. But Io is a mystery. With a telescope, she becomes a dust mote entrapped by Jupiter’s gravity; to the casual observer, she doesn’t exist at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

What was it like, that very first time? It’s strange to remember. You’re both different people now.

It’s May, 1966. You and Aemond are engaged, due to be married in three short weeks, and if you get pregnant then it’s no harm, no foul. In reality, it will end up taking you over a year to conceive, but no one knows that yet; you are living in the liminal space between what you imagine your life will be and the cold blade of the truth. Aemond has brought you to Asteria for the weekend, an increasingly common occurrence. The Targaryens—minus one, that holdout prodigal son, always glowering from behind swigs of rum and clouds of smoke—have already begun to treat you like a member of the family. The flock of Alopekis yap excitedly and lick your shins. Eudoxia learns your favorite snacks so she can have them ready when you arrive.

One night Aemond takes your hand and leads you to Helaena’s garden, darkness turned to twilight in the artificial luminance of the main house. You can hear distant voices, chatter and laughter, and the Beatles’ Rubber Soul spinning on the record player in the living room like a black hole, gravity that not even light can escape when it is wrenched over the event horizon.

You’re giggling as Aemond pulls you along, faster and faster, weaving through pathways lined with roses and sunflowers and butterfly bushes. Your high heels sink into soft, fertile earth; the air in your lungs is cool and infinite. “Where are we going?”

And Aemond grins back at you as he replies: “To Olympus.”

In the circle of hedges guarded by thirteen gods of stone, Aemond unzips your modest pink sundress and slips your heels off your feet, kneeling like he’s proposing to you again. When you are bare and secretless, he draws you down onto the grass and opens you, claims you, fills you to the brim as the crystalline water of the fountain patters and Zeus hurls his lightning bolts, an eternal storm, unending war. It’s intense in a way it never was with your first boyfriend, a sweet polite boy who talked about feminist theory and followed his enlightened conscience all the way to Vietnam. This isn’t just a pleasant way to pass a Friday night, something to look forward to between differential equations textbooks and calculus proofs. With Aemond it’s a ritual; it’s something so overpowering it almost scares you.

“Aphrodite,” Aemond murmurs against your throat, and when you try to get on top he stops you, pins you to the ground, thrusts hard and deep, and you try not to moan too loudly as you surrender, his weight on you like a prophesy. This is how he wants you. This is where you belong.

Has someone ever stitched you to their side, pushing the needle through your skin again and again as the fabric latticework takes shape, until their blood spills into your veins and your antibodies can no longer tell the difference? He makes you think you’ve forgotten who you were before. He makes you want to believe in things the world taught you were myths.

But that was over two years ago. Now Aemond is not your spellbinding almost-stranger of a fiancé—shrouded in just the right amount of mystery—but your husband, the father of your dead child, the presidential candidate. You miss when he was a mirage. You miss what it felt like to get high on the idea of him, each taste a hit, each touch a rush of toxins to the bloodstream.

Seven weeks after your emergency c-section, you are healing. Your belly no longer aches, your bleeding stops, you can rejoin the living in this last gasp of summer. Ludwika takes you shopping and you pick out new swimsuits; you’ve gone up a size since the baby, and it shows no signs of vanishing. In the fitting room, Ludwika chain-smokes Camel cigarettes and claps when you show her each outfit, ordering you to spin around, telling you that there’s nothing like Oleg Cassini back in Poland. You plan to buy three swimsuits. Ludwika insists you get five. She pays with Otto’s American Express.

That afternoon at home in your blue bedroom, you get changed to join the rest of the family down by the pool, your first swim since Ari was born. You choose Ludwika’s favorite: a dreamy turquoise two-piece with flowing transparent fabric that drapes your midsection. You can still see the dark vertical line of where the doctors stitched you closed. Now you and Aemond match; he got his scar on the floor of the Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach, you earned yours at Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan. There are gold chains on your wrist and looped around your neck. Warm sunlight and ocean wind pours in through the open windows.

Aemond appears in the doorway and you turn to show him, proud of how you’ve pulled yourself together, how this past year hasn’t put you in an asylum. His right eye catches on your scar and stays there for a long time. Then at last he says: “You don’t have something else to wear?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Labor Day, and Asteria has been descended upon by guests invited to celebrate Aemond’s nomination. The dining room table is overflowing with champagne, Agiorgitiko wine, platters of mini spanakopitas, lamb gyros, pita bread with hummus and tzatziki, feta cheese and cured meats, grilled octopus, baklava, and kourabiethes. Eudoxia is rushing around sweeping up crumbs and shooing tipsy visitors away from antique vases shipped here from Greece. Aemond’s celebrity endorsers include Sammy Davis Jr., Sonny and Cher, Andy Williams, Bobby Darin, Warren Beatty, Shirley MacLaine, Claudine Longet, and a number of politicians; but the most notable attendee is President Lyndon Baines Johnson, shadowed by Secret Service agents. He won’t be making any surprise appearances on the campaign trail for Aemond—in the present political climate, he would be more of a liability than an asset—but he has travelled to Long Beach Island tonight to offer his well-wishes. From the record player thrums Jimi Hendrix’s All Along The Watchtower.

When you finish getting ready and arrive downstairs, you spot Aegon: slouching in a velvet chair over a century old, hair shagging in his eyes, sipping something out of a chipped mug he clasps with both hands, flirting with a bubbly early-twenties campaign staffer. Aegon smiles and waves when he sees you. You wave back. And you think: When did he become the person I look for when I walk into a room?

Now Aemond is beside you in a blue suit—beaming, confident, his glass eye in place, a hand resting on your waist—and Aegon isn’t smiling anymore. He takes a gulp of what is almost certainly straight rum from his mug and returns his attention to the campaign staffer, his lady of the hour. You picture him undressing her on his shag carpet and feel disorienting, violent envy like a bullet.

Viserys is already fast asleep upstairs, but the rest of the family is out en masse to charm the invitees and pose for photographs. Alicent, Helaena, and Mimi—trying very hard to act sober, blinking too often—are chit-chatting with the other political wives. Otto is complaining about something to Criston; Criston is pretending to listen as he stares at Alicent. Ludwika is smoking her Camels and talking to several young journalists who are ogling her, enraptured. Fosco and Sargent Shriver are entertaining a group of guests with a boisterous, lighthearted debate on the merits of Italian versus French cuisine, though they agree that both are superior to Greek. The nannies have brought the eight children to be paraded around before bedtime. All Cosmo wants to do is clutch your hand and “help” you navigate around the living room, warning you not to step on the small, weaving Alopekis. When Mimi attempts to steal her youngest son away, he ignores her, and as she begins to make a scene you rebuke her with a harsh glare. Mimi retreats meekly. She has never argued with you, not once in over two years. You speak for Aemond, and Aemond is a god.

As the children are herded off to their beds by the nannies, Bobby Kennedy—presently serving as a New York senator despite residing primarily on his family’s compound in Massachusetts—approaches to congratulate Aemond. His wife Ethel is a tiny, nasally, scrappy but not terribly bright woman, five months pregnant with her eleventh child, and you have to get away from her like a hand pulled from a hot stove.

“You know, I was considering running,” Bobby says to Aemond, chuckling, good-natured. “But when I saw you get in the race, I thought better of it! Maybe I’ll give it a go in ’76, huh?”

“Hey, kid, what a tough year you’ve had,” Ethel tells you, patting your forearm. You can’t tear your eyes from her small belly. She has ten living children already. I couldn’t keep one. What kind of sense does that make? “We’re real sorry for your trouble, aren’t we, Bobby?”

Now he is nodding somberly. “We are. We sure are. We’ve been praying for you both.”

Aemond is thanking them, sounding touched but entirely collected. You manage some hurried response and then excuse yourself. Your hands are shaking as you cross the room, not really seeing it. You walk right into Lady Bird Johnson. She takes pity on you; she seems to perceive how rattled you are. “Oh Lyndon, look, it’s just who we were hoping to speak to! The next first lady of the United States. And how beautiful you are, just radiant. How do you keep your hair so perfect? That glamorous updo. You never have a single strand out of place.” Lady Bird lays a palm tenderly on your bare shoulder. She has an unusual, angular face, but a wise sort of compassion that only comes from suffering. Her husband is an unrepentant serial cheater. “I’ll make you a list of everything you need to know about the White House. All the quirks of the property, and the hidden gems too!”

“You’re so kind. We’ll see what happens in November…”

“Good evening, ma’am,” President Johnson says, smiling warmly. He’s an ugly man, but there’s something hypnotic that lives inside him and shines through his eyes like the blaze of a lighthouse. He pulls you in through the dark, through the storm; he promises you answers to questions you haven’t thought of yet. LBJ is 6’4 and known for bullying his political adversaries with the so-called “Johnson Treatment”; he leans in and makes rapid-fire demands until they forget he’s not allowed to hit them. “I have to tell you frankly, I don’t envy anyone who inherits that den of rattlesnakes in Washington D.C.”

“Lyndon, don’t frighten her,” Lady Bird scolds fondly.

“Everyone thinks they know what to do about Vietnam,” LBJ plods onwards. “But it’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t clusterfuck. If you keep fighting, they call you a murderer. But if you pull the troops out and South Vietnam falls to the communists, every single man lost was for nothing, and you think the families will stand for that? Their kid in a body bag, or his legs blown off, or his brain scrambled? There’s no easy answer. It’s a goddamn bitch of a quagmire.”

Lady Bird offers you a sympathetic smirk. Sorry about all this unpleasantness, she means. When he gets himself worked up, I can’t stop him. But you find yourself feeling sorry for President Johnson. It will be difficult for him to learn how to fade into disgraced obscurity after once being so omnipotent, so beloved. Reinvention hurts like hell: fevers raging, bones mending, healing flesh that itches so ferociously you want to claw it off.

LBJ gives Lady Bird a look, quick but meaningful. She acquiesces. This has happened a thousand times before. “It was so nice talking to you, dear,” she tells you, then crosses the living room to pay her respects to Alicent.

The president steps closer, looming, towering. The Johnson Treatment?? you think, but no; he isn’t trying to intimidate you. He’s just curious.

“Do you know what Aemond’s plan is for ‘Nam?” LBJ asks, eyes urgent, voice low. “I’m sure he has one. He’s sworn to end the draft as soon as he gets into office, but how is he going to make sure the South Vietnamese can fend off the North themselves? We’re trying to train the bastards, but if we left they’d fold in months. It would be the first war the U.S. ever lost. Does he understand that?”

“He doesn’t really discuss it with me.” That’s true; you know his policies, but only because they are a constant subject of conversation within the family, something you all breathe like oxygen.

“We can’t let Nixon win,” LBJ continues. “It’s mass suicide to leave the country in his hands. The man can’t hold his liquor anymore, getting robbed by Kennedy in ’60 broke something in him. He gets sloshed and shoves his aids around, makes up conspiracies in his head. He’s a paranoid little prick. He’ll surveille the American people. He’ll launch a nuke at Moscow.”

You honestly don’t know what he expects you to say. “I’ll pass the message along to Aemond.”

“People love you, Mrs. Targaryen.” LBJ watching you closely. “Believe it or not, they used to love me too. But I still remember how to play the game. You’re the only reason Aemond is leading the polls in Florida. You can get him other states too. Jack needed Jackie. Aemond needs you. And you’ve had tragedies, and that’s a damn shame. But don’t you miss an opportunity. You take every disappointment, every fucked up cruelty of life and find a way to make it work for you. You pin it to your chest like a goddamn medal. Every single scar makes you look more mortal to those people going to the ballot box in November. You want them to be able to see themselves in you. It helps the mansions and the millions go down smoother.”

“President Johnson!” Aegon says as he saunters over, huge mocking grin. He thumps a closed fist against the Texan’s broad chest; the Secret Service agents standing ten feet away observe this sternly. “How thoughtful of you to be here, taking time out of your busy schedule, squeezing us in between war crimes.”

“The mayor of Trenton,” LBJ jabs.

“The butcher of Saigon.”

Now the president is no longer amused. “You’ve never accomplished anything in your whole damn life, son. Your obituary will be the size of a postage stamp. I’m looking forward to reading it someday soon.” He leaves, rejoining Lady Bird at the opposite end of the room.

You frown at Aegon, disapproving. You’re dressed in a sparkling, royal blue gown that Aemond chose. “That was unnecessary.”

Aegon is wearing an ill-fitting green shirt—half the buttons undone—khaki pants, and tan moccasins. “I just did you a favor.”

“What happened to your new girlfriend? Shouldn’t she be getting railed in your basement right now? Did she have a prior commitment? Did she have a spelling test to study for? Those can be tricky, such complex words. Juvenile. Inappropriate. Infidelity.”

“You know what he brags about?” Aegon says, meaning LBJ. “That he’s fucked more women by accident than John F. Kennedy ever did on purpose.”

“That sounds…logistically challenging.”

“He’s a lech. He’s a freak. He tells everyone on Capitol Hill how big his cock is. He takes it out and swings it around during meetings.”

“And that’s all far less than admirable, but he’s not going to do something like that around me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s not an idiot,” you say impatiently. “He was perfectly civil. And I was getting interesting advice.”

Aegon rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry I crashed your cute little pep talk with Lyndon Johnson, the most hated man on the planet.”

“I guess you can’t stop Aemond from touching me, so you have to terrorize LBJ instead.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Aegon hisses, and his venom stuns you. And now you’re both trapped: you loosed the arrow, he proved you hit the mark. He’s flushing a deep, mortified red. Your guts are twisting with remorse.

“Aegon, wait, I didn’t mean—”

He whirls and storms off, shoving his way through the crowd. People glare at him as they clutch their glasses and plates, sighing in that What else do you expect from the worthless son? sort of way. You’re still gaping blankly at the place where Aegon stood when Aemond finds you, snakes a hand around the back of your neck, and whispers through the painstakingly-arranged wisps of hair that fall around your ear: “Follow me.”

It’s not a question. It’s a command. You trail him through the living room, into the foyer, and through the front door, not knowing what he wants. Outside the moon is a sliver; the light from the main house makes the stars hard to see. “Aemond, you’ll never believe the conversation I just had with LBJ. He really unloaded, I think the stress is driving him insane. I have to tell you what he said about—”

“Later.” And this is jarring; Aemond doesn’t put anything before strategy. He grabs your hand as he turns into Helaena’s garden, and only then do you understand what he wants. Instinctively, your legs lock up and your feet stop moving. Aemond tugs you onward. He wants it to be like the very first time. He intends to start over with you, the dawning of a new age in the dead of night.

Hidden in the circle of hedges, he takes your face roughly in his hands and kisses you, drinks you down like a vampire, consumes you like wildfire. But your skull echoes with panic. I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want another child with him. “Aemond…”

He doesn’t hear you, or acts like he doesn’t, or mistakes it for a murmur of desire, or chooses to believe it is. He has you down on the grass under the vengeful gaze of Zeus, the fountain splashing, the sounds of the house a low foreign drone. He yanks off your panties, but he doesn’t want you naked like he always did before. He pushes the hem of your shimmering cobalt gown up to your hips and unbuckles his trousers. And you realize as he’s touching you, as he’s easing himself into you: He doesn’t want to have to look at my scar.

You can’t ignore him, you can’t pretend it’s not happening. He’s too big for that. It’s a biting fullness that demands to be felt. So you kiss him back, and knot your fingers in his short hair like you used to, and try to remember the things you always said to him before. And when Aemond is too absorbed to notice, you look away from him, from the statue of Zeus, and peer up into the stone face of Athena instead: the goddess who never married and who knows the answer to every question.

“I love you,” Aemond says when it’s over, marveling at the slopes of your face in the dim ethereal light. “Everything will be right again soon. Everything will be perfect.”

You conjure up a smile and nod like you believe him.

“What did LBJ say?”

“Can I tell you later tonight? After the party, maybe? I just need a few minutes.”

“Of course.” And now Aemond pretends to be patient. He buckles his belt and returns to the main house, his blood coursing with the possibilities only you can make real, his skin damp with your sweat.

For a while—ten minutes, twenty minutes—you lie there on the cool grass wondering what it was like for all those mortals and nymphs, being pinned down by Zeus and then having Hera try to kill them afterwards, raising ill-fated reviled bastards they couldn’t help but love. What is heaven if the realm of the immortals is so cruel? Why does the god of justice seem so immune to it?

When at last you rise and walk back towards the house, you find Mimi at the edge of the garden. She’s on her knees and retching into a rose bush; she’s cut her face on the thorns, but she hasn’t noticed yet. She’s groaning; she seems lost.

You reach for her, gripping her bony shoulders. “Mimi, here, let’s get you upstairs…”

“No,” she blubbers, tears streaming down her scratched cheeks. “Just go away. Leave me.”

“Mimi—”

“No!” she roars, a mournful hemorrhage as she slaps your hands until you release her.

“You don’t have to be this way,” you tell her, distraught. “You can give up drinking. We’ll help you, me and Fosco and Ludwika. You can start over. You can be healthy and present again, you can live a real life.”

Mimi stares up at you, her grey eyes glassy and bloodshot but with a vicious, piercing honesty. “My husband hates me. My kids don’t know I exist. What the hell do I have to be sober for?”

You weren’t expecting this. You don’t know what to say. “We can help make the world better.”

“The world would be better without me in it.”

Then Mimi curls up on the grass under the rose bush, and stays there until you return with Fosco to drag her upstairs to her empty bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next afternoon, you’re lying on a lounge chair by the pool. Tomorrow the family will leave Asteria and embark upon a vigorous campaign schedule that will continue, with very few breaks, until Election Day on Tuesday, November 5th. The children are splashing and shrieking in the pool with Fosco, but you aren’t looking at them. You’re staring across the sun-drenched emerald lawn at the Atlantic Ocean. You’re envisioning all the bones and splinters of sunken ships that must litter the silt of the abyss; you’re thinking that it’s a graveyard with no headstones, no memory. Your swimsuit is a red one-piece. Your eyes are shielded by large black Ray Bans aviator sunglasses. Your gaze flicks up to the cloudless blue sky, where all the stars and planets are invisible.

Jupiter has nearly a hundred moons; the largest four were discovered by Galileo in 1610. Europa is a smooth white cosmic marble with a crust of ice, beautiful, immaculate. Ganymede, the largest moon in our solar system and the only satellite with its own magnetic field, is rumored to have a vast underground saltwater ocean that may contain life. Callisto is dark and indomitable, riddled with impact craters; because of her dynamic atmosphere and location beyond Jupiter’s radiation belts, she is considered the best location for possible future crewed missions to the Jovian system. But Io is a wasteland. She has no water and no oxygen. Her only children are 400 active volcanoes, sulfur plumes and lava flows, mountains of silicate rock higher than Mount Everest, cataclysmic earthquakes as her crust slips around on a mantle of magma. Her daily radiation levels are 36 times the lethal limit for humans. If Hades had a home in our corner of the galaxy, it would be Io. She glows ruby and gold with barren apocalyptic fury. You can feel yourself turning poisonous like she is. You can feel your skin splitting open as the lava spills out.

Aegon trots out of the house—red swim trunks, cheap red plastic sunglasses, no shirt, a beach towel slung around his neck, flip flops—and kicks your chair. “Get up. We’re going sailing.”

“I don’t want to talk to anybody.”

“Great, because I’m not asking you to talk. I’m telling you to get in my boat.”

You don’t reply. You don’t think you can without your voice cracking. Aegon crouches down beside your chair and pushes your sunglasses up into your Brigitte Bardot-inspired hair so he can see your face. Your eyes are pink, wet, desperately sad. Deep troubled grooves appear in his forehead as he studies you. Gently, wordlessly, he pats your cheek twice and lowers your sunglasses back over your eyes. Then he stands up again and offers you his hand.

“Let’s go,” Aegon says, softly this time. You take his hand and follow him down to the boathouse.

Five vessels are currently kept there. Aegon’s sailboat is a 25-foot Wianno Senior sloop, just roomy enough for a few passengers. He’s had it since long before you married into the Targaryen family. It is white with hand-painted gold accents; the name Sunfyre adorns the stern. He unmoors the boat, pushes it out into the open water, and raises the sails.

You glide eastbound over the glittering crests of waves, slowly at first, then faster as the sails catch the wind. Aegon has one hand on the rudder, the other grasping the ropes. And the farther you get from shore, the smaller Asteria seems, and the Targaryen family, and the presidential election, and the United States itself. Now all that exists is this boat: you, Aegon, the squawking gulls, the school of mackerel, the ocean. The sun beats down; the breeze rips strands of your hair free. The battery-powered record player is blasting White Room by Cream. When you are far enough from land that no journalists would be able to get a photo, Aegon takes two joints and his Zippo out of the pocket of his swim trunks. He puts both joints between his lips, lights them, and passes you one. Then he stretches out beside you on the deck, gazing up at the September sky.

You ask as your muscles unravel and your thoughts turn light and easy to share: “Why did you bring me out here?”

“So you can drown yourself,” Aegon says, and you both laugh. “Nah. I used to go sailing all the time when I was a teenager. It always made me feel better. It was the only place where I could really be alone.”

You consider the math. “Wow. You haven’t been a teenager since before I was in kindergarten.”

“It’s weird to think about. You don’t seem that young.”

“Thanks, I guess. You don’t seem that old.”

“Maybe we’re meeting in the middle.” He inhales deeply and then exhales in a rush of smoke. “What do you think, should I get an earring?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It might shock Otto so bad it kills him.”

“I’ll get two.” And then Aegon says: “It’s not cool for you to mock me.”

You are dismayed; you didn’t mean to hurt him. “I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You were mocking me. You mocked me about the receipt under my ashtray, and then you mocked me again last night. I’m up for a lot of things, but I can’t handle that. Okay?”

“Okay.” You turn your head so you can see him: shaggy blonde hair, stubble, perpetual sunburn, the softness of his belly and his chest, flesh you long to vanish into like rain through parched earth. “Aegon?”

He looks over at you. “Io?”

“I don’t want Aemond to touch me either.”

He’s surprised; not by what you feel, but because you’ve said it aloud, a treason like Prometheus giving mankind the gift of fire. “What are we gonna do about it?”

If you were the goddess of wisdom, maybe you’d know.

[timesomewhere]

in honour of the West End's next to normal closing today I've finally proof-read my 'things I noticed/general thoughts' post that's been sitting in my drafts since I saw it earlier this month. it's very long I'm very sorry.

Act One:

it was really fun watching this show in September given that there's two references to it in the first song

I adore the monologue about the pills that Dr. Fine gives during 'Who's Crazy'. it's rhythmic and funny yet also unnerving. It's such a quick and impactful way to summarise what Diana has been through for the past 16 years

Gabe does a 'one of your French girls' pose on the kitchen counter under the cabinets during 'My Psychopharmacologist and I'

Jamie Parker made direct eye contact with me during the last part of 'Who's Crazy' and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life

I might just be dense but I don't get the point of the neon sign that says 'Fine' which drops down during the Dr. Fine scene. Initially I thought that then one would drop down saying 'Madden' during his scenes to help people differentiate between the doctors but then it didn't so it just feels like a weird extra prop

speaking of random props, shout out to the iPad on the table in the opening scene which Gabe pretty much instantly takes away after telling Diana that she shouldn't obsess over tragic news stories and is then never seen again as far as I remember

Dan in the flashback scene being such an optimist about Diana's pregnancy and the future they're gonna have together... soul-crushing

Caissie Levy's 'I Miss The Mountains.' Holy Shit.

I love how Diana and Gabe are the only characters who sing on/stand on the table. it's as though it's this extra dimension of the house that only they have access to and it's a really neat and subtle way to show that they relate to each other in ways other characters don't

'It's Gonna Be Good' is so underrated. Jamie Parker's somewhat genuine optimism becoming optimism-through-gritted-teeth is incredibly acted

The way Jamie delivers the first line of 'He's Not Here' is devastating. the heaviness of that moment as you feel the audience around you realising what's just happened is something I'll remember forever

Gabe body-blocking Dan from Diana during 'I Am the One' is such good staging. People talk about how Jack Wolfe plays Gabe with a lot of layers and a lot of simultaneous contradiction and this song is one of the best examples of that. how Jack manages to project a character who is goading his father and protecting his mother at the same time is beyond me

also Jack has maybe half-an-inch on Jamie which obviously isn't something the actors control but it does makes Gabe seem just that bit more threatening when he's getting in Dan's face

for the first part of Superboy and the Invisible Girl when it's just Natalie singing, Gabe is actively laughing. He's totally unperturbed by her efforts to make herself seen to her mother. it's only when Diana replies, particularly when she says "you're our little pride and joy, our perfect plan" that you see his face drop and you see him trying to figure out a way to stop her from getting Diana's attention which then results in him kicking her off the melody in her own song

"I'll hurt you" being directed at Dan and "I'll heal you" being directed at Diana as Gabe gently touches her face gets me so bad. but the most painful part of 'I'm Alive' for me is when Gabe looks at Dan as he says "I'm the perfect stranger who knows you too well." that's the first time you realise that perhaps Gabe doesn't just impact Diana, and there's something much larger at play

Caissie and Jack W's voices harmonising on 'Catch Me I'm Falling' was one of my favourite parts of the whole show. Their voices are so magical together and their mother/son chemistry is incredible

The 'I Dreamed A Dance' into 'There's a World' sequence is one of the most tragically beautiful things I've ever witnessed. I went into the show knowing what Gabe was trying to achieve during 'There's A World' and yet Jack's voice is so beautifully haunting you totally forget you're supposed to root against Gabe in that moment

Jamie Parker's 'I've Been' is some of the best acting through song out there. Interestingly my friend and I had very different interpretation's of what Gabe's horrified reaction to the blood meant. I viewed it as him being upset about what he convinced Diana to do - he doesn't like seeing her hurt. Whereas my friend saw it as him being angry at himself that she didn't manage to follow through, meaning that he has failed to regain control over her life

'I'm no sociopath, I'm no Sylvia Plath. I ain't no Frances Farmer kind of find for you' is one of the best musical theatre lyrics of all time. I genuinely don't know why I Miss The Mountains is the 'big song' known from N2N over 'Didn't I See This Movie?', it's just so good

Natalie's 'She trusts you!' line is heartbreaking, I was basically watching that entire scene through my fingers because of how high the emotion was

Act Two:

'Pfizer's woman of the year' will in fact be peak comedy every time. Eleanor's delivery is *chef's kiss*

Gabe having just one line in 'Wish I Were Here', and that line being 'Wish I were here.' Yeah. I feel very normal about that.

Natalie's line of "Can I hide my stupid hunger, fake some confidence and cheer?" being pretty much exactly what Gabe has done throughout the entirety of act 1

"And you're not a scary rockstar anymore" got one of the biggest laughs at both of the shows I went to

Dan's desperation during 'Better Than Before.' He is simultaneously trying to cajole Diana into remembering and get Natalie to be more positive. This one song really highlights how he's being pulled in a million different directions while trying to hold it all together and Jamie portrays that so well

Aftershocks. Wow. The way the last word of each line echoes throughout the theatre is great sound design. I've been in exam halls louder than the audience during that song. Holding a room that captive as a silhouette is quite the feat Jack Wolfe you will always be famous

"I don't know where the fucking pieces go" as Diana pushes things off the table as if there's a real jigsaw there that she's rage quitting and choosing to give up on is such a nice detail

"Have you talked of your depression, your delusions and your son?" The gasp in the theatre both times was sickening

the response of "good' in reply to "name?" when technically that was part of his name as they are the "Goodmans". I don't really have a point here I just think it's neat

The 'It's Gonna Be Good" reprise was one of my favourite Dan/Diana moments. Caissie and Jamie are really pushing each other to their emotional limits and they handle it so well

The first "Why stay?" is so fragile as Diana sits against the kitchen island. Also interesting given that Dan and Gabe will also sit against there later when they are at their lowest point in the story. The idea of the characters crawling to the 'centre/heart' of the home when they are at their weakest

"This is one old game that I can play so well" is the line that has stuck the most with me throughout the show. Jack's delivery of it while striding across the kitchen table - seemingly totally invincible - is crazy.

how Caissie manages to deliver "you shrugged and said that no one really knows" with humour and desperation at the same time is amazing

When Gabe and Diana stand on the table and if they let go of one another they'll fall. yeahhhhh.....

Gabe's realisation that Diana isn't going to give up on getting better. Totally collapsing in on himself and beginning to cry. How you manage to feel bad for him after all the destruction he's caused is wild

Diana's "maybe I'm tired of the game" relating back to Gabe's "this is one old game that I can play so well"

the lyrics in 'Hey #3' clearly reflecting things Diana has done, Henry cutting Natalie off at "bleeding in the bathtub"

"I am the one who'll heal you" being said to Dan not Diana this time

"Why didn't you go with her?" is the most devastating line in the whole musical I said what I said. Jamie's delivery of it is heart wrenching

the drums and bass kicking in for the loud part of I Am The One as Gabe becomes desperate to be seen once again

Jack and Jamie's acting in this moment is so intense. there's a moment where it's genuinely feels as though only one of them can make it out of the interaction alive

Jack's emphasis on the word 'loved' in the line "I am the one who loved you" nearly killed me on the spot. how somebody can deliver a line so desperately while remaining pitch perfect is unfair

Natalie coming in to kiss Dan's head at the start of 'Light' like Gabe kisses Diana's in the first scene. I'm such a sucker for a gut punching

the "And are they real?" line about Diana's parent's from Henry gets such a loud reaction from the audience. Some people laugh immediately, some people clearly get shocked out of their sobs. so good

In conclusion, this is my favourite musical of all time and I'm going to be so annoying waiting for the pro-shot to come out