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moonlightwritingf1 · 2 days ago

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The Monaco Experience | LN4

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando, newly in a relationship, and Lando finally invites Y/N to Monaco to stay at his apartment.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ word count ━━━━━━━ 2.9k

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The first thing Y/n noticed as she stirred awake was the warmth. There was a steady, comforting heat radiating against her back, and something heavy draped over her waist. It took her foggy brain a moment to piece together where she was—and who she was with. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. She shifted slightly, only to feel the arm around her tighten ever so slightly, pulling her closer.

Lando.

Her heart skipped a beat as the memories of last night came flooding back. The teasing, the flirtation, the way his lips had brushed against her hair before they both drifted off. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his arms, but now that she was here, she couldn’t bring herself to move. His chest rose and fell steadily behind her, his breath warm against the back of her neck. She could feel every inch of him pressed against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers like they were made to be this close.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her mouth. This is dangerous, she thought. Dangerous because she could get used to this far too easily. Dangerous because it felt so right, even though she’d spent so long convincing herself it wasn’t.

Carefully, she turned her head just enough to glance over her shoulder. Lando was still asleep, his face relaxed, his dark lashes fanning out against his cheeks. He looked softer like this, younger, without the usual smirk or playful glint in his eyes. She studied the curve of his jaw, the faint stubble shadowing his skin, and felt a strange ache in her chest. How does he manage to look this good even when he’s sleeping?

As if sensing her gaze, Lando stirred, his arm tightening around her again as he let out a low, sleepy murmur. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

Y/n froze for a moment, then quickly turned her face back to the pillow, hoping he wouldn’t notice how closely she’d been watching him. “Morning,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, and then she felt him shift behind her, his hand sliding up her side until it rested just below her ribs. His palm was warm against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “Sleep well?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something else there—something deeper, more intimate.

She nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah. You?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” he admitted, his lips brushing against the back of her neck as he spoke. She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Was he doing that on purpose? Or was it just an accident?

Either way, it was driving her crazy.

“You know,” she started, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady, “you don’t have to stay. If you need to go… or whatever.”

Lando chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through her body. “Are you trying to kick me out already?”

“No!” she said quickly, then winced at how desperate she sounded. “I just mean… I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything. I know you’re busy, and—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted gently, his hand moving to her hip and turning her to face him. She blinked up at him, her breath catching as their eyes met. His gaze was soft, almost tender, and it made her stomach flip. “I’m exactly where I want to be. Trust me.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. Trust him. That was the problem, wasn’t it? She wanted to trust him, more than anything, but letting someone in—letting herself be vulnerable—was terrifying. And yet, lying here in his arms, feeling the way he looked at her… it was getting harder and harder to keep those walls up.

“Okay,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

He smiled, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good.” He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead, she found herself tilting her head up, her lips parting slightly in anticipation.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, as if they were both testing the waters. But then his hand slid into her hair, holding her gently as he deepened the kiss, and any thoughts of hesitation evaporated. She melted into him, her hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed her—like she was the only thing that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together. “Wow,” she breathed, her voice shaky.

Lando grinned, his nose brushing against hers. “Wow indeed.”

She laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep inside her. “You’re such a dork.”

“Hey, I’m your dork,” he shot back, his tone teasing, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made her heart skip another beat.

“Is that so?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded, his expression softening. “If you’ll have me.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking. But all she saw was sincerity—and something else, something that made her chest ache in the best possible way. Slowly, she reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I think I could live with that,” she said quietly.

His smile widened, and then he was kissing her again, his hands roaming over her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. It was overwhelming, the way he made her feel—like she was falling and flying all at once.

Eventually, they broke apart, both of them panting, their foreheads resting together once more. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Lando murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She felt her face flush, her heart swelling at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood before it got too serious.

He chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Good to know,” she replied, grinning up at him.

But before either of them could say anything else, his phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, shattering the peaceful moment. Lando groaned, reluctantly pulling away to grab it. “Sorry,” he muttered, glancing at the screen. “It’s work. I have to take this.”

She nodded, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment in her chest. “Of course. Go ahead.”

He gave her an apologetic smile before answering the call, his voice dropping into a more professional tone. Y/n took the opportunity to slip out of bed, grabbing one of his discarded shirts from the floor and pulling it on. It hung loosely on her frame, the fabric still carrying his scent, and she couldn’t help but smile as she padded toward the kitchen.

As she started making coffee, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had felt on her skin, the way his lips had tasted. What are you doing, Y/n? she scolded herself silently. You’re supposed to be keeping your distance.

But deep down, she knew it was too late for that. She was already in too deep, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Lando appeared a few minutes later, his phone tucked back into his pocket. “Sorry about that,” he said, leaning against the counter as he watched her pour two cups of coffee. “Duty calls.”

She handed him a mug, their fingers brushing briefly as he took it. “No worries. I get it.”

He sipped his coffee, his eyes never leaving hers. “So… what now?”

She hesitated, her grip tightening on her own mug. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He set his cup down and stepped closer, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “Where do we go from here?”

Her breath caught, her mind racing as she tried to come up with an answer. But before she could respond, he was kissing her again, slow and sweet, and all rational thought went out the window.

When they finally pulled apart, she looked up at him, her heart pounding. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But… I want to figure it out. With you.”

His smile was brighter than the morning sun streaming through her windows. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Lando’s fingers traced lazily along the rim of his coffee cup, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s as they sat across from each other in her cozy London flat. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on her face, and he couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly beautiful she looked, even with her hair slightly tousled from sleep.

“So,” he began, his voice casual but laced with something more—something that made her stomach flutter. “I’ve been thinking… you’ve never been to Monaco, have you?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “Are you asking me to come visit you, Lando?”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his confidence radiating through every movement. “Maybe. What if I told you I wanted to show you around? Give you the full Monaco experience. You know, the beaches, the yachts, the glamour…” He paused, his grin turning mischievous. “And, of course, me.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

“But you like it,” he countered, his tone dropping slightly, that teasing edge softening into something warmer, more sincere.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her coffee, trying to hide the way his words made her heart race. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s a big trip. And we’ve only just—” She hesitated, gesturing vaguely between them. “This is still so new.”

Lando reached across the table, his hand covering hers, his touch firm yet gentle. “New doesn’t mean it’s not worth exploring. Come on, Y/n. Let me show you my world. Just for a weekend. What do you say?”

There was something about the way he said it—the earnestness in his voice, the way his thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles—that melted her reservations. She bit her lip, looking up at him, and found herself nodding before she could overthink it.

“Okay,” she said softly. “A weekend in Monaco.”

His face lit up, and he squeezed her hand. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

---

Three days later, Y/n stepped off the plane onto the tarmac of Nice Côte d’Azur Airport, squinting against the bright Mediterranean sun. She hadn’t even made it to baggage claim when she saw him, leaning casually against a sleek black car, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking every bit the F1 driver he was.

“Took you long enough,” he teased as she approached, pulling her into a tight hug. His scent—clean and masculine, with a hint of cologne—flooded her senses, and she felt a rush of warmth spread through her chest.

“Traffic on the M25,” she quipped, pulling back to look at him. “You wouldn’t believe how bad it gets.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He took her suitcase from her, loading it into the trunk before opening the passenger door with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips as she slid into the seat. The car smelled like him, and the leather was cool against her skin. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This was Monaco. And she was spending it with him.

The drive along the coast was breathtaking, the sea glistening under the afternoon sun. They chatted easily, the conversation flowing as naturally as it always did between them. But there was something different this time—a tension that simmered beneath the surface, unspoken yet palpable.

When they finally pulled up to his apartment building, Y/n couldn’t help but gasp. It was everything she imagined—modern, luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering stunning views of the harbor.

“Welcome to Casa de Norris,” he said with a grin, grabbing her suitcase and leading her inside.

---

That evening, after a leisurely dinner at a seaside restaurant, they returned to his apartment. The city lights twinkled outside, and the air was warm, carrying the faint scent of salt and flowers. Lando poured them each a glass of wine, and they settled on the couch, the soft hum of music playing in the background.

Y/n sipped her wine, feeling the alcohol warming her veins. She glanced over at Lando, who was watching her with that same intense gaze that always seemed to see straight through her.

“What?” she asked, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

He shook his head slowly, setting his glass down. “Nothing. I just… I like seeing you like this. Relaxed. Happy.”

Her cheeks heated, and she looked down at her wine glass. “It’s hard not to be happy here. It’s… magical.”

“It’s not the place,” he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “It’s you.”

Her breath caught, and she looked up at him, her heart pounding. There was something in his eyes—something serious, vulnerable—that made her stomach flip.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek. “Right now. Tell me.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. But then, in that moment, all she could think about was how much she wanted him—how much she’d always wanted him.

“You,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want you.”

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, filled with pent-up longing. She melted into him, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that left her dizzy.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, she looked up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “Yes.”

Without another word, he stood, pulling her to her feet and leading her toward the bedroom. The room was bathed in soft light, the bed impossibly large and inviting. He turned to her, his hands coming to rest on her waist as he kissed her again, tasting of wine and need.

Slowly, deliberately, he undressed her, his movements careful, reverent, as though she were something precious. When he pulled back to look at her, his gaze dark and hungry, she felt a shiver run down her spine.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. “So fucking beautiful.”

She reached for him then, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt until it fell open, revealing the toned planes of his chest. Her fingers splayed over his skin, and he groaned, low and deep, pressing her back onto the bed.

As he kissed his way down her body, his lips trailing fire, she arched into him, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Every touch, every caress, was electric, lighting her up from the inside out. His lips were everywhere, leaving a trail of fire across her skin. He started at her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear, eliciting a soft moan from her. His hands roamed over her body, cupping her breasts as his mouth moved lower, teasing her nipples with his tongue until she was arching into him, desperate for more.

“Lando,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to worship her body with his mouth. He didn’t stop, his kisses growing hungrier as he moved down her stomach, his hands gripping her hips to keep her still. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his breath hot against her most sensitive skin.

“You taste so good,” he murmured before his tongue flicked out, teasing her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as he worked her with his mouth, his fingers slipping inside her to match the rhythm of his tongue. The pleasure built quickly, coiling tight in her belly, and she was on the edge, so close to shattering—

But then he stopped, pulling away just as she was about to fall over the edge. She whimpered, her body trembling with need, but he didn’t give her time to protest. In one swift motion, he positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. Her eyes met his, dark and intense, as he thrust into her in one smooth motion, filling her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, each stroke driving her closer to the edge again.

He kissed her deeply, swallowing her moans as their bodies moved together, the tension building until it was unbearable. And when she finally came, her body convulsing around him, he followed her over the edge, his release spilling deep inside her. They clung to each other, their breaths mingling, as the world outside faded away.

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httpscameron · 3 days ago

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arranged marriage with simon.

the marriage was arranged by your parents, you didnt even know it was going to happen until a few weeks before the wedding. your first meeting with simon was in a coffee shop. your mum just told you to go there at ten am to meet him there.

he stood out like a sore thumb. his hair was messy, a dirty blond but short, he was sat in a booth with a cup of tea in a to-go cup. a look of exhaustion on his face and a five oclock shadow of a beard. he had eyebags that were deep but his eyes were a soft blue. simon wore dark clothes, probably to keep himself looked at atleast as possible.

you took a breath of nerves before getting a coffee yourself before going over. you stood opposite him. “simon riley?” you asked him just to confirm really that he was infact your husband to be.

he just nodded “yeah i am.” he didnt bother asking for your name because well youre obviously his future wife he knows your name. “i didnt ask for this you to be my mrs, so dont blame me.” he tells you a in mutter. his voice was husky, a smoker and clearly a heavy one at that.

after that visit you didnt meet again until your wedding, you couldnt really class it as a wedding. you both went to county hall and signed the documents and you had your stuff moved in that night.

it was awkward, very awkward. that night the two of you stayed in silence. you both agreed to share a bed because thats what married people did. he was in a pair of joggers and a dark tank top. you were in your usual pyjamas. both of you as far away as possible in the bed. the tv was on playing the eleven oclock news. once the show finished you both said your good nights and that was it.

life went on like that for a few months, simple hellos and simple mutters of how are you. it was terrible. he was a good man at that, he allowed you to quit your job and the two of you lived on his income, you had unlimited cash and could do as you please. however the one thing you werent allowed to do was cheat. it was a basic thing you both agreed to early on as it wasnt fair on the other no matter how much you both disliked the marriage.

simon went on deployment, it was long three months without speaking (like that really bothered you). he returned late into the night, you were asleep in your bed, sleeping as snug as you could.

he kicked his boots off at the bottom of the bed and his clothes stripping to his boxers, as he climbed into bed, his arms wrapped around you quickly. waking you up. “simon?” you said quickly.

“shh birdie i need this.” he huffed, his head going into the crook of your neck, sniffing your hair which still smelt like that shampoo you used. you just being there settled him instantly. he fell asleep instantly too. you fell asleep too, the warmth of his arms was somewhat suprisingly nice too.

after that night you both had a silent agreement to sleep cuddling, even if some nights your head was on his chest or you both spooned. it was nice actually, being close to your husband.

the two of you eventually agreed on going on date nights, simple stuff twice a month even if it was getting a take out and watching a film and well it was perfect. settling into routines with him that you never thought would happen. being able to fall in love with your husband.

he thought of you as his salvation, your relationship bloomed into one of love and adoration to each other, spending early mornings and late nights together. simon wouldnt be the man he was without you, even if it was a rocky start it still happened. you still both fell in love and had the happy ending neither of you expected.

masterlist

#simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #cod

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bruhstories · 22 hours ago

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Bet IV

p.1 here & p.2 here & p.3 here

mandatory mdni because things will start to get heated up in the following chapters.

summary: you're starting to feel things for the man who hired you to take care of his cat. but he's only being nice. that's it and nothing more. pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, domestic violence (reader gets slapped by her uncle), veeeery slow burn, reader's dad is dead w/c: 2.1k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! please remember that if you asked to be tagged but i can't find your age on your blog, you will NOT be tagged. there will be smut and people dying lol.

"Where were you last night?"

You sighed at your uncle's question, sick and tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. He woke up earlier than he should have, especially for a man who worked night shifts at a warehouse. He did it on purpose, just to have more reasons to pick on you, and you knew that all too well. You lived through that hell for the past ten years.

"I told you, I was cat sitting."

"Cat sitting." He repeated with derision in his voice. "You need to get a real job."

"I have two real jobs." You reminded him, and it took all your willpower not to raise your voice at him.

"Where's the money, then? Huh?" Your uncle grabbed you by the wrist, twisting it backwards.

"I'm getting paid today!"

"How much?"

"660,326!" You cried out as his fingernails dug deeper into your skin.

"I better see that money on my nightstand by tomorrow morning." He let go of your wrist. "Keep the change."

How generous, you thought, rubbing the crescent-shaped dents in your skin. At least he didn't hit you, but your small victory crumbled when he turned on his heels, smacking you with the plastic fly swatter in his hand. Once. Twice. Thrice.

You didn't cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him.

But when you stepped through the doors of Mr. Hwang's penthouse, the dam broke, and tears streamed down your cheeks. They burned when they touched the cracked, swollen skin, courtesy of your uncle, but you still smiled at the sight of Eunjoo.

Instead of waiting next to the water bowl, like she had done before, the cat jumped on the countertop, her paw gently touching your wrist, where the imprinted dents of his fingernails were still visible. You didn't know why, but Eunjoo's gesture made you cry harder, heavy tears falling onto her plate.

"Good kitty." You sobbed, daring to pet her, and she allowed it, nuzzling your hand for the first time since you met her.

Without wasting a single moment, you took out your phone to take a selfie of you and Eunjoo, and sent it to In-ho, with the caption 'Making progress!' You thought he might be happy to see her slowly lower her guard and get attached to you.

Who hurt you?

Stupid. How could you be so stupid to send a selfie when your cheek was grazed and puffy? Of course Mr. Hwang would ask about it, he was a nice man, one whose kindness you didn’t think you deserved.

I accidentally walked into a lamppost! Silly, right?

Hoping that the lie would be convincing enough, you carried on with your tasks after eating with Eunjoo, and to your surprise, it worked. It fooled him, but you weren’t proud of yourself in the slightest.

You need to be more careful next time. If anything happened to you, who would take care of Eunjoo until I return?

It shouldn't have hurt reading his reply, and yet your heart ached. What did you expect? You were an employee, he obviously wanted his cat to be safe, not you. And how could someone like him even care about someone you? You came from different worlds that could never intertwine.

I will.

No thank you, no sad face — you were bitter, even though, rationally, you had no reason to be. Besides, you lied to him in the first place. Maybe if you told him the truth, he would have sent a different reply. It didn't matter. In less than five days he would come back, pay you and never speak to you again. Just like all rich people did.

You cleaned the bathrooms that morning, scrubbing the bath tubs, the toilets, the sinks and the floors until your fingertips stung and your head pounded from the bleach fumes. The vibration of your phone startled you, and you wiped your hands to check the notification.

Have I upset you?

Okay, maybe he did care. Or maybe he was just very observant and noticed your monotonous reply.

Not at all, I just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry that you worried about me, or that I seemed upset! You're right, I need to be more careful next time.

Please don't take this the wrong way, miss, but I've never met anyone who apologised for making me worry about them. You're quite special.

You did a double take when you read Mr. Hwang's reply, and a wave of remorse crushed your heart. The man was too nice for you to lie to him, but you didn't want him involved in your family affairs, either. There was a strong internal conflict within you, a battle between honesty and dishonesty, but for the time being, dishonesty won, no matter how disgraceful it was.

Choosing not to reply, as time was ticking and the Abduls would be waiting for you soon, you swiftly finished tidying up the bathrooms and put away all the cleaning products so Eunjoo couldn't get to them. With the automatic feeder full, fresh water in the bowl and litter boxes clean, you left.

In all fairness, you didn't know what to reply to his text. No one called you special before, except for that one guy you dated who only wanted to sleep with you, and unfortunately succeeded. It wasn't your proudest moment, but you moved on since then. You stared at the text, typing a reply, then deleting it, then typing again, and you did that for the duration of the entire bus ride back to Guryong Village. By the time you knocked on Ali's door, you still hadn't come up with a response.

What could you even say? Thank you? Likewise? I'm sorry I lied to you, my uncle slapped me with the fly swatter? No. In telling the truth, Mr. Hwang would pity you, perhaps even offer you more money, or food, or clothes, and you didn't want to be pitied. You wanted your hard work to be recognised, not to use your social status or depressing background as an excuse.

Mrs. Abdul couldn't feed you that day, and that was fine. They needed to prioritise themselves, since they didn't live any better than you. Luckily, you saved enough money to buy a kimbap roll for lunch and a bag of rice crackers for dinner and breakfast. Resourcefulness was, perhaps, your strongest point and the reason you survived for so long.

The theme park was packed with tourists and locals, gathering to watch the parade, and you took the time to entertain children and take pictures with them, always on your feet, always working. Back in the dressing room, you took the comically large mascot head off, sweat dripping down your face and neck. Summers were worse — there were body parts you didn't think could sweat.

"Excuse me, Y/N?"

You looked up from your seat to a man around your age, a coworker named Donghyun. He had worked there for a few months or so, but you barely spoke.

"Yes?" You smiled, resting your elbows on the mascot head in your lap.

"We're getting paid today, and a few of us are going for drinks after work. I was wondering if you would like to come." Donghyun avoided looking into your eyes, nervously pinching the soft fur of his own mascot.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have another job I need to get to. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, another time." He nodded. "Hey, could I get your number?"

"Why would you want my number?" You laughed, immediately pursing your lips when Donghyun frowned. "Sorry, yeah, of course I'll give you my number!"

You were such a people pleaser, it was ridiculous, but he seemed to feel better after saving your number in his phone. And there was no harm in making new friends.

"I'll text you later." Donghyun nodded with a smile and left.

What a strange interaction, you thought. It wasn't unusual for men to like you — you were pretty, smart, funny — but you just weren't interested in any of them. In fact, it was their age and maturity that didn't appeal to you. They acted like prepubescent pricks, trying to impress anything with a vagina and a pretty face by being obnoxious and loud and downright irritating.

Older men were different. They had manners, they were respectful and caring. They knew how to dress, knew how to speak to women, kind of like Mr. Hwang.

Oh.

God, you needed to forcibly remove that thought from your mind before it spiraled into something worse. In-ho probably wanted nothing to do with you — no, he definitely didn’t want anything to do with you. He was just a nice gentleman who happened to not be married. Maybe he had a girlfriend that didn't live with him. Or maybe he worked so much he couldn't afford a relationship.

Maybe he murdered people.

You laughed at that ridiculous idea — no one in their right mind would do that, especially not Mr. Hwang. He had a cat, for God's sake. Murderers usually killed animals, surely he was just a normal man with a lot on his mind, a workaholic, or a hermit.

Walking into your boss' office, you received your pay and counted the money — 662,326. You got more than you should've, completely forgetting about the pay rise. Your uncle didn't need to know about that, and you took the extra 2,326 and hid it in a small pocket inside your backpack, along with other money you saved. Unbeknownst to him, you secretly opened a savings account in the hopes that one day you would be able to leave and rent your own place, but you only had 1,094,463.60 won, which was barely enough to cover the deposit.

One day. One day you would leave all that abuse behind and have a fresh start. But today was not that day.

Back in Gangnam-gu, you entered the penthouse earlier than normal and dropped your bag on the floor next to your worn and torn boots. You were hoping they would last through winter because you really couldn't afford a new pair. Eunjoo ran to greet you for the first time, and your heart was filled with joy at the sight of the cat rubbing against your leg. She was growing on you, and you soon realised how much you'd miss her when Mr. Hwang returned. Perhaps he'd let you visit her.

You turned the TV on and played some songs by ABBA, the sadness of the morning gone, replaced only by joy and optimism. Things would turn out well, you just knew it. You grabbed In-ho's black clothes and placed them in the washing machine, all the while dancing to the beat of Money, Money, Money. It was a song you related to, but you didn't want to find a wealthy man. You just wanted to have enough money to survive without your uncle.

"It's a rich man's world." You sang to Eunjoo, who wiggled her butt, playfully attacking your feet.

"All the things I could do if I had a little money, kitty. I would get my own apartment, I would donate to orphanages and charities. Oh, don't look at me like that." You frowned when Eunjoo stared at you judgmentally. "I would! There are people out there who need help. But you know what I would get for me? A hotteok! Ah, I would kill for that cinnamony goodness."

You placed the food on the floor and opened the pack of rice crackers.

"My dad got me a hotteok on my seventh birthday. It was the best birthday ever and- oh my God, I'm talking to a cat." Laughing at the sudden realisation, you shook your head in disbelief. "Well, you're probably my only friend anyway. You don't judge me. You don't care if I'm rich or poor. You just listen and eat. Oh!"

Good evening, Mr. Hwang! Could I ask what your favourite dish is?

You decided that would be your gift. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill, but you were confident in yourself. And who didn't want to come back to a hot home-made meal? Maybe he liked jajangmyeon, or jjigae, or something sweet, like chapssaltteok. The possibilities were endless.

Beef Wellington. Why?

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Beef fucking Wellington? How on Earth could you even afford all the ingredients? The tenderloin itself was probably over 65,000 won. But you were going to do it for him, regardless of what it cost. You felt that Mr. Hwang deserved it.

I was hoping to cook it for you when you returned. I'll admit, I didn't think it would be such a... fancy dish, but I'm sure I can manage.

Have you tried it before?

I'm afraid not. Is it good?

Exquisite. You'll have to stay and try it when I return, yes?

Chewing on your bottom lip, your heart skipped a beat at his request. You knew he was just being nice, but you couldn't stop the sudden burning desire to just obey.

Yeah, I'll stay.

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm @nikos-a-clown @cchewhaz @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @red22wolf @nellabear @unabletonotlovesatoru @happiness2112 @waterjewelsspite @luna-looniesnlog @plan3t-plut0 @full-sunnies @houta-habtet-houta @alexisabirdie @riri53 @bluehourss

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho x you #hwang in ho x y/n #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x you #hwang inho x y/n #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #afab reader

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isagispuzzle · 3 days ago

Note

HII I love the way you write sm !! is it okay if you write anything with nagi ??

thank you!! i'm assuming this is for my 200 followers event bc i have written a few scenarios for nagi. this was prob the most fun i've had writing him, so i hope you enjoy!

they say love is a game, and for nagi, that can't be more true.

nagi first gets to know you when you sit next to him in class, and through your constant pestering for him to listen to the teacher and take notes, he realises he can't ignore you. at some point, you stop prodding his side as much and instead slip notes to him with little jokes on them, which he much prefers. he starts to stay awake more in class, awaiting your next slip of paper, and it's only when reo muses about how attentive nagi has been in class recently that nagi realises you've already got him right in the palm of your hand.

nagi takes his time to get to know your interests, your quirks, your ticking points. he completes the tutorial patiently, and commits every detail to memory. he helps you with your bags and other heavy things, gives you jellies when you seem sleepy or down, and walks you to the bus stop after school although he stays on campus. beyond these side quests, he makes sure to complete the special events too. he takes you out for a meal on your birthday and gives you a little cactus that matches his own, and on white day, he taps hershey's kisses on your cheek, nose, hand, and finally, lips, before giving them to you.

with enough experience points, nagi tries new combo moves. when he walks into class in the mornings, he greets you with a hand on your head that glides down the length of your hair to land on your shoulder. when you eat dinner with him on wednesday evenings, he leans close to you, steals something from your chopsticks, and gets you to wipe his lips. when you're in the stands to watch his matches, he looks at you every time he scores, smiles, and hugs you at the end even if you complain about his sweat.

games are only fun if nagi wins, which is why he takes his time to level up and prepare himself for his first boss fight. he runs mental simulations, practises the steps, and even prepares a flower buff. he waits for the perfect time to strike, and when he finally feels ready, he confesses.

#isagispuzzle hits 200 followers!#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #emma is thinking...

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syverse · 2 days ago

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i depend on you // ft. katsuki bakugou

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

bakugou can't bring himself to hate you, even after you left

warnings&a/n: if this is bad LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!!! got suddenly verrrry inspired by that one drawing on tiktok and maybe i misinterpreted it in the writing but shoot me who cares. this is like my first time writing something and actually finishing it i get so discouraged and give up. if you hate this i will never do this again.

In his life, there's a lot of things that Bakugou hates. He hates simple and unavoidable things like the rain, and he hates specific things like people who rely on everybody around them. He hates weak people, hates getting up too early in the morning, hates being too involved in other people's lives if he doesn’t necessarily have to be. But, as he sits alone at his desk, forced to listen to the obnoxious and overbearing sounds of society in Tokyo despite how late it is, Bakugo can’t think of anything he hates more than you.

He spent a lot of his life loving you. He loved things like your unwavering conviction to do the right thing, he loved the look in your eyes when you stole glances from each other during class dinner back when you were both in highschool, and loved the way you whispered his name like a prayer when it was just the two of you under the covers of your shared bed. It was hard at first, but as the two of you grew together, so did his love. He learned to love through the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your gentle hands intertwining with his. Nimble fingers pressing into the palms of his hands before flipping them over and placing feather-like kisses on his fingerprints, he tries to swallow the bile that claws its path up his throat.

Along with the symphony of nightlife outside of his agency, he can also pick out the faint sound of a news reporter being broadcasted on a billboard next to his building. Pictures of your face are shown on the large screen, along with the headline “PRO HERO TURNED VILLAIN” and Bakugou holds his breath for as long as he can. His phone lay flat on his desk in front of him, buzzing every few seconds from concerned friends and family members, but the blonde doesn’t dare to touch it. It had been at least a week since your departure from his agency, and the news had spread to all of Japan at this point, but the news and media were still eating it alive as if they were starving.

Bakugou’s eyes glue shut as he wishes for memories of you to disappear, and for the heavy dread in his gut to fizz up and die out. He curses himself for not picking up on it sooner, the fact that you would leave. Looking back on it, he’s pretty sure he could put his finger on the exact moment when you started to fade away. When the universe in your eyes started to blur each time you looked at him, when the sense behind your touch became hesitant instead of gentle, and when your cheeks no longer touched your eyes when you smiled. He should’ve said something. Should’ve done a lot of things to at least delay your disappearance, but Bakugo was familiar with the fact that he was never good with words, and the fact that his heart was bottomless with fear of him making it worse.

Bakugou absolutely hates you for leaving him here. He hates that he can’t throw every single I love you that came out of his mouth into a little box and set it to ashes, hates that he has to go back to home and still smell you on his bedsheets, hates that even though you’ve made it clear that you’re never coming back, he still patiently waits with bated breath to hear you whisper his name again. So, as Katsuki picks himself off of his desk and drags himself to the elevator to return back his house, his house where you don't live anymore, he tries to convince himself to forget you, and ignores the way his tongue instinctively traces the letters of your name on the roof of his mouth.

#bakugou katsuki #boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #im about to throw up in my mouth so sorry if this is bad

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greenandsorrow · 2 days ago

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Morning Wood.

rut!Alastor x gn!reader

☞ I had some leftover smut scenes from the first chapter of "The price for misbehaving" and so, I decided to combine them with a slightly different depiction of Alastor. He's all fuzzy, basically covered in deer fur -anthropomorphic animal vibes and not the cartoonish, bright red guy we all know!

☞ You don't need to have read the actual multi chap in order to enjoy and understand this. However, I did keep the rutting/mating season theme. I love it when fictional men act pathetic -and the fact that I'm the one determining that in my silly, not so little, fics.

☞ Lots of horniness and hormones. Pet names. Masturbation and a blowjob, but make it goofy and playful! The reader is full of sass. Alastor is eepy and needy. Pre-established relationship. You're his mate!

🪻

Alastor is a mess.

A mess of sharp edges.

And antlers.

Antlers that bear little nicks along their edges.

His wiry frame is covered in patches of scruffy fur that cling to his body in a disarray. It's a chaotic blend of rough textures and soft tufts. His chest and arms are a map of scars, faint reminders of a past that seems to be trying to hide beneath some of the fluffiest tufts.

His tail is twitching with restless energy.

Somewhere on the upper floors of the hotel, his bedroom is dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the radio dial of a fancy antique. Alastor is sitting perched on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide and claws digging into the mattress beneath him. His chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths.

The air is heavy with the dizzying scent of his rut.

He lets out a low growl, his usual composure cracked by the haze of primal need that's clouding his mind. His cock is already in his hand, long, throbbing and impossibly hard, with veins pulsing. The fur at its base is damp with sweat and precum. His heavy balls are drawn tight against his body.

Alastor squeezes the base of his cock and the sound that escapes him comes out unbidden, raw and guttural. He can feel it... The unbearable heat coursing through him, a wild and instinctual drive he can't suppress.

He pumps his shaft, slowly and deliberately at first, as he tries to maintain an ounce of control. But his rut isn't something he can just ignore... And soon his pace quickens, his hips bucking into his hand.

"F~ fffuck~" he hisses through gritted teeth, his free hand gripping his thigh -in an attempt to not tear the poor bedding. His thoughts are filled with glimpses of you... The way you tease him with that infuriating smirk, the way your hands feel on his chest, your breath ghosting over his neck.

It only makes things worse.

His cock twitches violently in his hand, precum running down the length in sticky lines. His clawed hand grazes the sensitive skin of his cock head just enough to sting, but the pain only spurs him on more.

"Why now?" he growls, his voice gravelly.

His tail thrashes behind him.

Alastor is imagining you beneath him, your hands exploring every inch of his furred body while your voice whispers filthy encouragements in his ear.

The thought alone sends him over the edge. With a strangled cry, his body tenses, his hips jerking forward as his release spills on his hand in thick, hot ropes. His vision blurs for a moment, the intensity of his orgasm leaving him trembling.

The room is now silent, save for the sound of his ragged breathing. Alastor slumps forward, claw still sticky and cock softening slowly. He grimaces, dragging a hand down his flushed face before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Disgraceful" he mutters to himself -though the shame is only fleeting. The rut isn't done with him yet and he knows it's only a matter of time before the unbearable ache returns.

Had you found him like that... What would have happened?

For now, though, he allows himself a moment of tranquility.

You said it'll only be four days... He can go four days without you, right? Pfft. Sure, he can. That was literally day two.

The morning light filters through opac curtains and the hotel fills with the familiar sounds of its guests going about their day.

Alastor stirs on the couch, his lanky frame sprawled across the cushions, tail twitching lazily. He lets out a small groan, rubbing at his chest absentmindedly.

The Radio Demon is practically draped across the couch like he invented the concept of fatigue. His shirt is half-tucked, the fabric wrinkled like he's been sleeping in it for days. His legs dangle off the arm of the sofa, one hoof idly moving to some rhythm only he can hear. His hair sticks out in every direction, defying both gravity and logic.

That's when he feels it.

"Oh, dear" he mutters, blinking, as he shifts his hips and feels the unyielding pressure against the front of his slacks. His cock, half-hard when he fell asleep, is now achingly stiff...

Alastor gives an exasperated sigh, though it is also tinged with some embarrassment. He shifts his long legs awkwardly, but the motion only heightens the friction, earning an involuntary hiss from him.

"Of all the things to wake up to" he says under his breath, voice carrying its usual cadence despite the situation.

One hand is already slithering near his waist before he thinks better of it... But he decides to resist.

It's no use.

His cock throbs, demanding attention, the weight of his balls adding to the torture. Alastor whines softly, while his tail is moving erratically against the cushions of the couch.

That's the sight you walk in on -Alastor spread on the couch, red-faced and visibly aroused, brows furrowed in sleepy distress. You lean against the doorway, taking a moment to soak in the ridiculousness of it all.

"Well, good morning to you too, sunshine." you begin, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see you've got a… pressing issue in your hands."

Alastor's head snaps up, his wide eyes widening even more. He had forgotten it was today you were coming back.

"Wha-?!", he struggles to sit up.

You toss a pillow at him. He doesn't dodge -it smacks him in the chest and he groans theatrically, clutching it like it has wounded him mortally.

"Careful!" he pouts, half-lidded eyes gazing at you under messy bangs. "I'm already frightfully weak. Don't make it worse."

You rollyour eyes. "You're always weak when you want something, Al. So spit it out. What do you need?"

Alastor stretches, the movement languid and a bit too purposeful as his shirt rides up, exposing his lean, scarred stomach and the dip of his hip bones.

"Well", he drawls in a tone full of fake innocence, "since you're offering…"

He really is weak.... He hates but simultaneously loves how lust dictates his decisions.

His ears flatten against his head, hands moving to shield himself, though it does little to mask the twitching outline beneath the thin fabric of his slacks.

"Relax." you say, stepping closer with an amused smirk. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. Though, I'll admit… you look particularly needy this morning."

"I- I wasn't expecting company s- so soon again..." he stammers, his usual smoothness nowhere to be found as his tail continues to flick nervously behind him.

You raise a brow, letting your gaze drift deliberately downward.

"Clearly. But hey, I'm here now, so why don't I help you… ease into your morning?"

It's obscene, the way his cock is straining against the fabric like it is fighting to break free. The outline is clear -a fat dick, slightly curved and frankly, too big for him to be this embarrassed about it. His trousers don't stand a chance... The poor button at the top looks like it's holding on for dear life.

"Wow" you observe, crossing your arms. "When you called to say you were 'resting', I didn't realize you meant that. I guess you really were up all night."

His lips part in protest, but the words get caught in his throat when you kneel between his legs, smiling up at him.

"Don't act so shocked... You always do that." you tease, dragging your palms up his hairy thighs. "Y'know Alastor, you look like you could use a hand -or a mouth."

"Y- You are positively scandalous" he manages out, though his voice wavers -probably from the excruciating anticipation for your touch.

"Yeah, yeah" you quip, tugging at the waistband of his slacks. "Now shut up and let me work."

He can't help but make a strangled, static-laced whine at your order.

The moment his cock springs free, it hits his stomach with a thud, the thick shaft flushed and throbbing with need. A soft, furry, happy trail goes down till the base -where his balls rest against the couch, each movement causing them to shift enticingly.

You let out a low whistle, leaning in close. "Well, aren't you a pretty buck."

"This whole ordeal is utterly flawed!"

"Oh, I wouldn't use that word. It's more like an opportunity."

Alastor's right ear twitches at that, his breath ragged. "A- An opportunity for what, exactly?"

Grinning wickedly, you answer. "To see just how needy the great Alastor can get."

Alastor freezes... like a deer caught in headlights, the eternal grin faltering. He shifts his limbs, trying to compose himself, but there's no hiding it -there he is, the Radio Demon, infamous and terrifying… now looking like prey that has wandered into a very compromising situation.

And oh, is it compromising.

Your newly acquainted mate's cheeks flush a deeper crimson, his grin stretching unnaturally wide in a desperate attempt to assert himself. "Ah, well, you see- It's not- !"

"Save it. You're not fooling anyone, stag boy. Look at you... All scruffy and needy... Rocking an erection on your favourite vintage couch."

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I- I assure you, it's entirely… involuntary!"

"Yeah?" you quirk an eyebrow, letting your hand trail up his chest and then back down his stomach, relishing in the feel of his muscles clenching underneath your fingertips.

"Sh- shocking behavior! I- I don't know what you're-"

"Alastor" you cut him off sharply. "Stop talking."

He did.

The trembling demon's shaft isn't just stiff -it's... raging, twitching as if annoyed that it's not already getting attention. And oh, the head. Flushed an angry red, it's bulbous, slick with an impossible amount of precum that's dripping lazily down the sides. It is cartoonishly swollen to say the least.

"Good lord. How can you always wake up like this?"

Alastor squirms, his grin trembling. "I- I am a creature of many talents, my dear!"

His hand grips the armrest of the couch so tightly that the fabric starts to fray.

"Right" you mutter, your fingers finally wrapping around him. The moment you touch him, he lets out a static-filled gasp and the hotel's lights all flicker, his whole body jerking as though he hasn't been touched in centuries. It's been four days.

His cock is hot to the touch. The contrast between the smooth head and the slightly fuzzy base is oddly satisfying under your palm. You give him a little squeeze. He twitches violently in response, tail flicking and ears flattening again.

"Eager, huh?" you tease, stroking slowly. Alastor's sharp teeth clench, his head falling back against the couch as he lets out a broken groan.

"N- nothing like that! I- I'm always prepared!" he babbles, his voice breaking into static again.

"Sure, sure."

That earns you a petulant glare.

The smell of him -something earthy and musky- fills your senses. You let your tongue dart out, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock, slowly, tasting the salty precum that has been pooling at the tip.

Alastor lets out a sound that can only be described as pathetic, his sharp claws scratching the couch (aka the real victim) in a vain attempt to ground himself.

"Prepared?" you mock, your breath falling on his slick glans. "You're shaking like a leaf,u freckled sweetie. I'd say you're anything but prepared."

Alastor whimpers, an uncharacteristic noise for someone so smug. His deer tail is lashing furiously now, the coarse fur of his thighs brushing against you as he shifts in place.

You wrap your lips around him in one swift motion, taking him just far enough to feel the weight of him on your tongue. The ridges along his shaft catch against the wet heat of your mouth as you slide down his length. His claws dig into the couch, again.

He almost chokes... His grown antlers momentarily catch on the backrest. His chest is heaving.

Meanwhile, your lips remain around his hot cock. You hum, the vibration making him jerk so hard he nearly bucks into your mouth. He spills even more precum, coating your tongue.

Pulling back just enough to tease, you let your lips part with a wet pop, his shiny length gleaming.

His ears are still pinned back, his teeth biting into his lip as he struggles -and fails- to suppress a shuddering moan.

You don't wait for him to recover. Instead, you lower your mouth back onto him, taking him even deeper this time. His cock twitches and twitches, the veins pulsing against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks and suck hard.

"Ah- !", static again.

You pause to look up at him, his sweaty and flushed face making you feel oddly proud. Alastor's response to your simple gaze is a little pat on your head. He appreciates what you do, even if it brings him equal amounts of relief and torture.

An incoherent and strangled series of moans leave his open mouth as you work him over with a mix of slow strokes and hard sucks. His legs tense, the fur along his thighs bristling as he teeters on the edge.

"P- Please" he begs, his voice cracking in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach. His usual bravado has vanished completely, leaving him dazed, needy... and utterly at your mercy.

You hum again, the sound sending a shockwave through his body. His cock pulses hard in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer with every ragged breath and broken moan.

You shift your position on the rug slightly, your hand slipping lower to cup his balls. They are heavy and warm in your palm, fuzzy with coarse fur -like the rest of him. You give them a teasing squeeze. Alastor practically yelps, his thighs snapping shut for a moment before falling open again, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to you.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" you comment, rolling them gently between your fingers. His cock twitches violently in response, a bead of precum spilling onto your lips as you kiss the base of his shaft.

Alastor's hands claw at the couch helplessly, his sharp nails ripping the fabric. (🛋️RIP)

"I- I can't take this anymore!", his voice breaks into a high-pitched whine. His antlers clatter against the backrest, as his head tips back, neck taut and exposed.

"Oh, but you can, deer boy" you murmur, your voice sultry. "And you will."

As if spurred by your words, his hips jerk forward, his instincts betraying him. The movement is sudden, sharp and almost frantic, his cock sliding further into your mouth as he begins to rut against your face. His balls slap against your chin with each desperate thrust, their weight a reminder of just how pent-up he truly is when he's in musth.

"G- Goodness gracious, I- ah- oh my~!"

His fur bristles everywhere now -all over his back, his arms and chest- and his ears are spasming.

Static crackles in the air.

You tighten your grip on his base, your free hand moving to steady his hips.

"Easy there, mister buck" you say, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. "Getting ahead of yourself, don't you think?"

"F- forgive me... I really c- can't help it!" he stammers, eyes glazed over with a mix of embarrassment and raw, animalistic need. "You're- you're too good! And frankly, I missed you!"

You chuckle.

Then, you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the very tip, savoring the way he shudders. "Oh, I know", you say smugly. "Now, be a good little deer and stay still, or I might stop altogether."

The threat makes him whine again, the sound almost pitiful -but he forces himself to stay still. His thighs tremble, the tension in his body visible.

Satisfied with his obedience, you take him back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip before sliding down to the base. His hips twitch despite himself, his cock pulsing hard as you swallow him down.

His breathing grows extremely ragged.

"I- I'm... ah! I'm so close" he chokes out. His balls have drawn up tight against your palm, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm -making you moan around him.

Simply, that's enough.

With a desperate cry, Alastor comes undone, his cock throbbing violently as he spills into your waiting mouth. You swallow it, the salty heat flooding your senses as he slumps against the couch, his body trembling with aftershocks.

When you finally pull back, he is even more of a mess than you found him -his hair disheveled and wet, his chest heaving rapidly and his face flushed with a mix of exertion and satisfaction. You lick your lips, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you look up at him.

"Feeling better, bucko?" you ask, your tone smug but with an undertone of affection.

Alastor's ears rise on top of his head and he gives you a sheepish, toothy smile. "I… suppose you could say that", he admits, still breathless.

You laugh, the sound light.

You stand up and give his lips a peck."Good. You look cute like this... completely wrecked and at my mercy."

"The couch looks worse."

Thank you for reading!🪻

Support me further: ☞ PayPal link

~ My Hazbin Hotel masterlist ~

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! 💌

The dividers are by @saradika-graphics.

Tags; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp

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tenasz · 1 day ago

Text

Evermore (Satoru x Reader)

By Taylor Swift

I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone

Trying to find the one where I went wrong

[…]

Can't remember what I used to fight for

I rewind the tape, but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost

[…]

And I couldn't be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for evermore

When love is tested by neglect and pain, even the strongest bonds can break. After taking his marriage for granted, Satoru is forced to confront the devastating reality of losing you, the woman who remains the center of his world. Caught between regret and the fight for a second chance, he learns that true love demands more than words—it demands choices.

paring: Satoru x Reader

Genre: angst / comfort

Warning: mention of faint

Words: 6,3k

a/n: this is the first fic I’m doing based on Taylor’s songs. it’s a project, so more are to come. Hope you enjoy this one!

You felt that something was coming. It wasn’t an abrupt surprise, but that calm unease that precedes a storm. The kind of stillness that makes the air heavy and the sky seem ready to collapse. It was as if the foundations you both had built together, with so much care and over so much time, were about to crumble under an invisible, relentless force.

Satoru was… distant. It wasn’t just a fleeting distraction or a shadow of exhaustion. It was a growing chasm, something you had never seen before, not in all the days of laughter, promises, and glances that once felt eternal. He was there, but he wasn’t. And that subtle absence was like an invisible knife piercing your chest.

The first thought that consumed your mind, so full of labyrinths and traps that he used to laugh at and lovingly call "worms," was an idea that burned like poison: he was cheating on you. A new love, a fresh passion, someone who had sparked in him a fascination greater than you ever could. The image was so vivid it hurt—him smiling at someone else with that same sparkle in his eyes that was once only yours.

You knew it might just be your mind playing tricks, distorting reality based on your deepest insecurities. But what if it wasn’t? That doubt was an internal earthquake, toppling the walls of what you believed to be unshakable.

The breaking point—the critical moment that caused the glass already filled to the brim to overflow and flood everything around you—came on your wedding anniversary. Not that things had been easy before. The distance between you two had been growing like an inescapable shadow, but you kept trying, stitching the invisible threads that still connected you. Fragile threads, almost frayed, but ones you refused to let break.

That day, you decided to fight against the crushing weight of the circumstances. You left Jujutsu school early that day. You didn’t run into Satoru, but that didn’t faze you because you knew he was away on a mission with his students. He had promised he’d be back in time for dinner. At home, every second was spent striving for perfection: the dress chosen with care, the hours spent making your hair flawless, the makeup that concealed the dark circles from sleepless nights. Everything had to be perfect. You wanted him to notice. Not just the effort, but you—as if, for a moment, you could erase all the indifference that had accumulated between you two.

The plans had been set for over a week. The restaurant was reserved, and you were excited to share a sweet moment with your husband. Everything was planned to create a night that would be just yours, a chance to rekindle what had seemed clouded. Every detail was carefully thought out. You rehearsed the words, the gestures, even the small smiles you’d give during the dinner you had dreamed about for days. You allowed yourself to believe that maybe this was the chance to start over.

That morning, before Satoru left, you made sure to confirm the plans. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest as the words cautiously left your lips, almost fearing the response. It was a timid attempt to remind him—without sounding desperate—that the day was special. He mumbled something vague as he adjusted his uniform. You saw his gaze pass over you, like a cold breeze, without truly landing. That was the first blow, but you smiled. Pretended not to notice the emptiness in the gesture. And when he opened the door to leave, there wasn’t even a kiss, a touch, a warm glance, or a “happy anniversary.” Just a hurried wave, as if you were a static presence in the backdrop of his routine. The silence that lingered after was deafening.

Even so, you tried not to crumble. “He’s just in a rush,” you thought, clinging to hope with trembling fingers. “He wouldn’t forget, right? He couldn’t forget.” But deep down, doubt had already planted its roots. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your body and mind. Later, you called Satoru to ask if everything went well on the mission, if anyone got hurt, if he was already on his way back. But your calls went unanswered. Every attempt went straight to voicemail. Messages were sent in hopes of a response, and when it finally came, the weight of worry lifted from your shoulders. He said he couldn’t answer earlier, but everything was fine, and he’d be home soon. A smile of relief escaped you. He called you “darling.” Such a small thing for people who’ve been together for so long, but in your situation, it was a sip of water in the scorching desert.

When you were finally ready, checking the last details in the mirror, a shy smile appeared on your lips. You looked beautiful. No, stunning. The dress, chosen so carefully, hugged your silhouette perfectly, and the subtle shimmer of your makeup enhanced the hopeful look you could barely hide. Nervously smoothing the fabric with your hands, as if you could dispel the growing anxiety, you grabbed your purse and left the house.

Everything had been planned with love. You chose his favorite restaurant—the very place where he had proposed to you. A special place, full of happy memories, where every corner seemed to whisper stories you had shared. Tonight would be different. It would be a chance to rescue everything that felt faded in recent times.

In the car, soft music played, but you barely noticed it. Your hands sweated on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, while your eyes kept darting to your phone on the passenger seat. The screen remained dark, with no notifications, no calls. No message from him. With every mile, the silence on his end amplified your unease.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you were greeted with warm smiles. The waitstaff recognized you immediately, welcoming you enthusiastically. They had always been part of those happy moments, witnesses to laughter, toasts, and declarations. They led you to the table you had reserved—the same one where he had knelt, years ago, his eyes shining with love. Seeing the setting, your heart warmed.

It was perfect. Delicately arranged candles illuminated the space with a soft, comforting glow. Flowers adorned the table, exuding a sweet and inviting fragrance. Among the plates and perfectly aligned utensils, there were Polaroids of the two of you, capturing moments of joy that now felt so distant. You picked one up, smiling at the memory of how he used to insist on capturing even the most mundane moments, always saying, “Every second with you is worth keeping.”

Taking a deep breath, you sat down. Your chest was full of hope despite the anxiety, and a small, nervous smile lingered on your face. You waited, sitting there, until he arrived. You waited. And waited. And waited. But he never came.

As the hours passed, the warmth that had once filled the space gave way to an unbearable emptiness. Your phone remained silent. You tried calling him countless times, but the calls went unanswered. Your heart began to pound erratically, not from anticipation, but from worry. Had something happened? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. He had many enemies, though he always claimed none could measure up to him. This was the only plausible explanation in your mind.

The waitstaff’s gazes began to weigh on you. Their smiles had turned sad now, filled with a pity you despised. The ice in your glass had long melted, and the candles were nearly burned out. Your dress, once so comfortable, now felt suffocating, and your jewelry burned against your skin like a cruel reminder of your vulnerability.

And then, just as you finally stood up, ready to end the public humiliation and go home, your phone rang.

It was him.

With trembling hands, you answered. “Satoru? Where are you? Are you okay?” Your voice was shaky but full of hope.

“I’m fine. I got home a while ago, but my phone was on silent. Where are you?”

Those words shattered what was left of your heart, a sad, painful tightness echoing in your chest. He had forgotten. All the hope you had clung to with so much effort dissolved into tears that began to fall uncontrollably. You pulled the phone away, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs, but he heard them.

“S/N? What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?” His voice was filled with concern, but to you, it felt like an ironic blow.

"Now you seem to care, don’t you?"

The words escaped before you could hold them back, your voice laced with disappointment, sadness, and even anger. On the other end of the line, the silence was deafening. He tried to respond, but you cut him off, your pain bursting like a dam that could no longer hold the flood.

"You forgot, you idiot! You forgot what day it is, forgot our plans, and left me here, alone, like a fool!" You practically yelled into the phone, right there in the middle of the restaurant. You could feel the mascara running down your cheeks, mingling with the salty, bitter tears.

His silence was suffocating, but you knew he was still there. Perhaps he was processing your words or trying to come up with an excuse for the inexcusable. You waited for something—anything—that might ease the weight crushing your chest. But for a long moment, all you heard was the muffled sound of your own breathing, broken by sobs.

“S/N…” he began, but the hesitation in his voice felt like a knife twisting in the wound. “I... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize...”

“Didn’t realize?” you interrupted, your voice firmer now, emboldened by the mixture of sorrow and indignation. “You didn’t realize today was our anniversary? That today was the day I was trying to save... this?” Your hand gestured toward the photos of the two of you, which now felt like daggers to your eyes, as though he could see all the effort you had poured into tonight.

On the other end, he sighed. A heavy sound, as if carrying a burden, but the weight you felt was yours, not his. "S/N, I know I’ve been absent. I know I haven’t been what you deserve. But—"

"But nothing, Satoru!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the empty dining hall. The waitstaff, who had been discreet earlier, now peeked from a distance, trying to appear busy. You felt exposed, like an open wound laid bare for the world to see. “You always have excuses, always have explanations. But what you don’t have is time. Time for us, time for me!”

The line went silent again. In the background, you heard the familiar sound of a door closing. He was moving, perhaps trying to reach you. Perhaps trying to fix things.

“I’m coming there,” he said, his voice steadier now, as if he could resolve everything by simply showing up.

“No.” Your response came quick and sharp, cutting through any possibility. “Don’t come, Satoru. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you to come because you feel guilty. I wanted you to come because you wanted to be here. But I guess that was asking too much.”

He tried to protest, but you ended the call before he could say more. You stood there, frozen, the phone still in your hand, as silent tears streamed down your face.

You left as quickly as you could, not looking back or speaking to the staff. You were too humiliated to face them. The night wind brushed against your skin, a cruel reminder of the loneliness you now carried. This was the end—not because he had forgotten your anniversary, but because he had forgotten you.

You got into your car, driving aimlessly for a while, until you finally stopped in a place where memories of him couldn’t reach you. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to think about what came next. Tears streamed down your face, smudging the makeup you had so carefully applied earlier. The ache in your chest tightened around your heart, leaving you breathless with sorrow. You thought that this pain would be for evermore, an endless weight on your chest.

Parking your car in a random spot on the street, you rested your forehead against the steering wheel. Millions of thoughts raced through your mind now. What would you do next? How would you move on with your life?

Miles away, Satoru rushed into his car, his fingers trembling as he turned the key in the ignition. Between harsh whispers, he cursed himself, the weight of guilt crushing his chest. How could he have been so blind? So careless? The brutal truth that tore at him was simple: he loved you deeply, more than he could ever love anyone else. And yet, he kept hurting you, as if the love he felt wasn’t enough to make him the husband you deserved.

Rain began to patter against the windshield, each drop intensifying the storm within him. Satoru gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white, as the lump in his throat felt impossible to swallow. He thought of the smile you used to wear so easily, the sparkle in your eyes that now seemed dimmed. He knew it was his fault. He had extinguished that light with his absence, with the words he never said, with the promises he broke.

“I’m a disaster,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with frustration. The words felt insignificant compared to the enormity of what he felt. He wanted to turn back time, to return to the day everything started falling apart and do it all differently. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to carry the weight of a marriage he had let slip through his fingers. The truth that tormented him was this: he was losing you. And for the first time, the fear of losing you felt more real than ever.

When he finally arrived at the restaurant, he stumbled out of the car, ignoring the heavy rain soaking his clothes and streaming down his face. He burst through the front door like a whirlwind, only to be greeted by a desolate sight: the staff dismantling the decorations with methodical movements, erasing the traces of what should have been a special night. Each deflated balloon, each removed flower, was a blow that tightened the knot in his chest.

His eyes were drawn to the photos of the two of you—memories of happier times when he was still the man you deserved. With trembling fingers, he picked up one of the Polaroids, almost forgotten. It was a picture of the two of you smiling, your eyes shining in harmony. Now, it felt like an image of something unreachable, an echo of everything he had destroyed.

Melancholy turned to desperation, and the guilt that gnawed at his chest erupted in a moment of impotent rage. The sharp sound of his fist hitting the table echoed through the empty hall, making the few staff members present exchange uneasy glances. They had seen you wait; they had witnessed your disappointment, your humiliation.

Satoru met their gazes, and the weight of shame hit him like a tidal wave. The thought of you sitting there, alone, believing he would come, waiting for a gesture that never arrived… It was unbearable. He hated himself. Hated the man he had become, the man who had put you through all of this.

His shoulders slumped, as if the rain outside was now falling inside him, flooding his heart. He wanted to fix it. He wanted redemption, he needed it.

Back to your fragile and shaken figure, you drove the car to the house you once called home. But, at that moment, this house no longer felt like yours. It wouldn't be yours anymore, because you had already decided: you were ready to leave.

As you got out of the car, the heavy rain kept falling, mixing with the tears that seemed endless. Every step you took toward the building was another nail in the coffin of the love you once believed would last forever. You entered the shared apartment, silently hoping he wasn’t there. And, for the first time in a long while, the universe seemed to grant your plea: he really wasn’t. You walked, wet and trembling, to the room that once held so many happy moments. But now, it was just a shadow of what it had been. You began to pack a suitcase in haste, awkwardly, only putting the essentials. There was no space to think about everything. You planned to return another day, maybe when he wasn't there, to grab the rest. The only thing that mattered at that moment was leaving. You couldn't bear the weight of a home so devoid of love, so cold. It was time to move on, even if it meant destroying what little was left of you.

Your body felt heavy, your mind clouded. Your vision was blurred, distorted by the tears that wouldn't stop falling. Your ears only caught a distant hum, as if a sad melody played in the back of your mind, preventing any connection with the world around you. The rain soaking your clothes made you shiver, but the external cold was nothing compared to the ice in your chest.

You were so absorbed in the task of filling the suitcase that you didn’t even notice the sound of the apartment door opening and closing. It was as if your body had shut down, operating on autopilot. It wasn’t until the door to the bedroom, which had been slightly ajar, slammed open that you realized you weren’t alone anymore.

And there he was. Satoru. Your husband, your love. He looked as devastated as you, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His eyes were wide, locked on you as if he had found something he feared he had lost forever. There was relief in them, but also something deeper: pain, regret, and despair. He was there, but did it still mean anything?

Satoru stood still for a moment, as if his body didn’t know how to move forward. His chest rose and fell with shallow, irregular breaths, and the weight of what was happening seemed to crush his shoulders. The knot in his throat was so tight that it made it hard to breathe. He wanted to speak, but the words seemed trapped, suffocated by the whirlwind of emotions tearing him apart inside.

When he finally found the strength, he took a step forward, the sight of the half-open suitcase burning in his mind like a sign of everything he was about to lose.

“Are you… leaving?” he managed to murmur, his voice soft but trembling. There was fear in every syllable, a fear he rarely admitted to feeling, but now it overflowed.

You didn’t answer, just kept your hands busy, as if he weren’t there. But the silence was louder than any word. It was the silence of someone who had already given up. He ran a hand through his hair, wet from the rain, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. The weight of guilt pressed on his chest like physical pain, something deep and unrelenting. He felt as though he were drowning, unable to escape the ocean of regret that surrounded him.

“I know… I know I was wrong.” His voice was firmer this time, but broken at the edges, as if each word was tearing him apart inside. “But please, listen to me.”

You paused for a moment, but didn’t look at him, and he continued, the urgency blending with the pain in each word.

“I… I love you. More than anything in this world. I know it doesn’t seem like it, I know I didn’t show it. But it’s true.” He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat making it even harder. “I let work consume me. I let the pressure turn me into someone you don’t recognize, and that was unforgivable.”

He took another hesitant step, fearing you would pull away even further. His fists were clenched by his sides, as if he were trying to hold himself together. His eyes were misty, but he didn’t blink, staring at you as if his life depended on it.

“But you… you mean everything to me. I know I disappointed you. I know I made you feel alone, invisible. And I hate that. I hate what I did.” He took a deep breath, but the air seemed to not fill his lungs. “I swear I can be better. I need to be better. For you. For us.”

You finally looked at him, but your gaze was filled with pain, and it hurt him even more. It was as if every second that passed made the distance between you seem even greater. Satoru fought the urge to reach out and wipe away your tears, to hold you and beg for your forgiveness, but surely, you wouldn’t want to share the same square meter with him, let alone let him touch you. That thought squeezed his chest.

— Please, don’t leave me. — His voice trembled, desperation dripping from each word. — Listen to me, I...

You interrupted him after staring at him for a long moment, your hands still in the middle of packing the bag. His words echoed in your mind, but you couldn’t break through the wall of pain you had been building for so long. Something inside you shattered, like a dam incapable of holding back the wave of repressed emotions anymore.

"Listen to you? "Your voice came out low, hoarse, but laden with latent anger. "Listen to you, Satoru? Now? After everything?"

He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but you raised a hand to stop him.

"No. You’re going to listen to me now. Because I’m done. I spent months trying to reach you, trying to find the man I loved, but you were always so… busy. Always with an excuse. Always with something more important than me." Your voice grew louder, each word coming out like a bullet, ready to kill anyone in front of it. "Do you know what it’s like to wait? To wait for someone who should be by your side? To wait for him to see you? For him to choose you?" He lowered his head, as if your words had physical weight, piercing him. His chest rose and fell more forcefully, the knot in his throat tightening with every sentence you spoke.

"I loved you, Satoru. I still love you, and that’s the worst part. Because I keep loving you while you destroy me. While you make me feel small, invisible!" Your voice trembled, and the tears you had been holding back overflowed. "I blamed myself for so long, thinking it was my fault, that I wasn’t good enough. But you know what I realized? The problem isn’t me. It’s you. It’s your inability to see beyond yourself, to realize what you’re losing while you’re so busy with... with everything but me."

Satoru felt something break inside him. Every word of yours was a direct blow to his heart, leaving him more vulnerable than he had ever been. The guilt burned like fire in his chest, and he struggled to find what to say, but nothing seemed enough. He knew you were right, and that tore him apart even more.

"You say you love me, but love isn’t this, Satoru. Love isn’t forgetting such an important date for us... Love isn’t making her feel alone in a marriage. " You swallowed hard, the tears now mixed with the rain still running down your face. "Love is being there. It’s caring. And you failed. You failed me."

He stumbled, as if your words had hit him hard. His eyes were watery, his chest tight to the point of pain. He tasted the bitter shame and helplessness as the tears finally escaped.

"I know... " He murmured, his voice barely audible. "I know I failed. But I can change. I will change. Please..."

"It’s not that simple, Satoru! " You shouted, the anger finally overflowing. "Do you think that just saying 'I’ll change' will fix everything? No, that’s not how it works. You broke me. You broke us. And I... I don’t know if I can keep fixing something you seem so willing to destroy.

He fell into silence, his hands trembling at his sides. Her words reverberated in his mind, each one heavier than the last. He wanted to speak, to beg, but the pain in his eyes kept him paralyzed. All he could do was watch, helpless, as the woman he loved poured out all the truths he feared to face.

"I deserve more than this, Satoru." Your voice was now lower, but still filled with devastating sadness. "I deserve more than waiting for you. More than being treated like an option. And I don’t know if you’re capable of giving me that."

The silence that followed was absolute, only broken by the sound of the rain outside. Satoru felt the weight of truth in her words, like a final sentence. He realized that, for the first time, she wasn’t just hurt. She was tired. And that terrified him more than anything.

Satoru opened his mouth to speak, his heart beating irregularly as he struggled to organize his thoughts. He needed to tell the truth, needed to expose what he had always hidden, even from himself. It was now or never.

"You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had," he started, his voice hoarse, but sincere, his chest tight as the words finally escaped. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, know that every time I failed, every time I hurt you, I hated myself for it.'

You looked at him with tear-filled eyes, but didn’t respond. Your breath was heavy, your shoulders tense, as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

"I love you, " he continued, the urgency in his voice growing. " Not because I need you, but because you’re everything. You’re my home, my peace, my reason. And I was a fool for not showing you that, for not making you feel that."

He took a hesitant step toward you, as if afraid to break the fragile space between you. But before he could say anything else, something happened.

Your body, so overloaded with anger, pain, and exhaustion, showed signs it couldn’t take it anymore. Your breath became more irregular, and you felt a sudden vertigo. The world around you seemed to spin, the voices, the light in the room, everything started to fade.

" I..." You tried to speak, but the words died on your lips.

And then, you collapsed.

Satoru reacted with primal instinct, catching you before your body hit the ground.

"Hey! Hey! " He shouted, his voice overflowing with panic. His arms wrapped around your fallen body, his head lowering as he looked at your face. Your skin was cold, as cold as the rain still dripping from your clothes. "No... No! Stay with me!"

He pressed his forehead against yours, and then, with trembling fingers, checked your pulse. You were there, but so fragile, so still, it felt like you were slipping through his fingers.

"You’re cold... " He whispered, almost to himself, as panic rose. He could barely think, each thought racing ahead of the other. The guilt crushed him, the fear destroyed him. How didn’t he notice before? How did he let you get to this point?

Holding you tightly, he stood up, almost stumbling as he rushed to the door. He felt your weight so light, as if you had no strength to exist at that moment. He opened the car door with a pull, carefully adjusting you in the passenger seat. His fingers trembled as he fastened the seatbelt around your unconscious body. His eyes couldn't leave your face, so pale, so sad, and so terrifyingly empty.

On the way to the hospital, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. He drove fast, ignoring the red lights and the sounds of honking horns around him. His thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and guilt.

"Why didn’t I notice?" He muttered to himself, his voice broken. "How did I let you get to this point?"

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes filling with tears. Your breath was so weak, and your skin so cold… He couldn't think clearly, but the worst thought consumed him. He couldn't lose you. Not just as his wife, but as the person who gave meaning to his life.

"Please, hang in there." His voice faltered, a hoarse whisper that barely made it over the sound of the engine. Satoru's warm fingers brushed against your cold, pale ones. "I need you. Don’t leave me... Please, don’t leave me."

At the hospital, he never left your side. His hands held yours, his heart heavy as he watched the doctors tend to you. Every second felt like an eternity, each beat of his heart a punishment.

"Please," he whispered, looking at you, so still in the bed. "I would do anything for you. Anything."

He gripped your hand tighter, feeling the tears roll down his face. The lump in his throat returned, but he didn’t care anymore.

"I know I hurt you. I know I failed as your husband, as the person who promised to love you above everything else. But I won’t lose you. I can’t. I’ll be better, I promise. Not for me. Not to save this. But because you deserve it. You deserve everything."

Your breathing was more stable now, but he still felt the fear. A deep, visceral fear that, even if you woke up, it might be too late to fix everything.

He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against your hand. And for the first time, he prayed. Not to a specific god, but to any force that could hear him, begging for a second chance.

After a few hours, your body stirred, your eyes slowly opening and trying to adjust to the light of the unfamiliar surroundings. Satoru, who had been by your side, quickly lifted his head, his hand still holding yours.

"Hey, how do you feel?" Her mind barely registered his words, but you felt his warm hand gently cradle the side of your face.

"What... what happened?" you asked, dazed, your vision and hearing slowly coming back into focus. He then explained what had happened, and you understood why you were in such an unfamiliar place.

"Do you feel better?" Satoru asked again, and the question hammered in your head. You now remembered the argument before your collapse and why you were so exhausted and drained that your body couldn’t hold itself up. You just looked at him before turning your gaze away and pulling your hand from his.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if gathering courage to let out everything that had been trapped in his heart. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and raspy.

"I know I don’t have the right to ask for anything, but please, listen to me just this time. I need you to know… everything I should have said before but never could."

He held her hand gently, as if afraid to hurt her, his eyes full of tears he didn’t try to hide.

"I know I hurt you. I know I failed you in every possible way. I was so wrapped up in my own world, so blind, that I didn’t see I was losing the only person who had always been by my side. You. The only one who truly saw me, who loved me despite all my flaws."

His voice trembled, a knot tightening in his throat, but his words were filled with such intense love that it seemed to fill the entire room.

"You are everything to me. And I’m not saying this in a trivial way. It’s the purest truth inside me. You are my home, my peace, my strength. But I left you alone, I made you feel like you weren’t enough, when in reality, you’re more than I ever deserved."

He tilted his head, his eyes fixed on her face, searching for any sign that she was listening. You heard his words calmly, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I’ve spent my life thinking I needed to be strong, that I needed to carry everything alone. But you... you showed me that being strong isn’t about carrying the weight by myself. It’s about trusting. It’s about sharing. And I failed at that with you."

He took a deep breath, and his voice grew even softer, almost a whisper.

"I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. If you give me another chance, I will spend every day of the rest of my life showing you how loved you are. I will be the man you deserve, even if it takes a lifetime to prove."

A tear fell, running down his face. He lowered his forehead to rest gently on her hand, feeling her skin now warmer against his.

"Please, stay with me. Not because I need you, but because I want to be worthy of you. I want us to have the future you dreamed of, the future you deserve. And, if you decide that it's enough, I will understand. But you need to know... I will love you forever, even if that means letting you go."

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the weight of the silence that followed, while the sound of the machines in the hospital filled the emptiness of the room. You stared at him for a long moment, and though your eyes were tired, they didn’t hide the pain.

"Your words are beautiful, Satoru." Your voice was low, but carried the weight of everything you felt. "But where were they when I needed them? Where were they when I felt alone, even though I was by your side?"

He lowered his head, pressing his lips together. It was a deserved pain, but still hard to bear.

"I know..." He took a deep breath, struggling against the lump in his throat. "I know I failed you. And I’d give anything to go back and do things differently. But I can’t. All I can do now is ask you for a chance to fix what I broke."

You looked away, tears silently streaming down your face.

"I loved you so much, Satoru. More than you can imagine. But loving you... it became so heavy. And I started fading in the process."

He felt the impact of your words like a knife to the chest, but he didn’t pull away. He knew he needed to hear everything, every pain, every hurt, to fully understand what you carried.

"I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness." His voice faltered, but he continued. "But please, let me try. Let me show you that I can be the man you deserve. Not with promises. With actions. With every choice I make from now on."

You closed your eyes, exhausted, but his words reached you in a way you hadn’t expected. You wanted to believe him, but you knew it wouldn’t be easy.

"I still love you, Satoru." The confession came out in a whisper, and he widened his eyes, almost in disbelief. "But I don’t know if that’s enough now."

He held your hand more firmly, his eyes locked on yours.

"It doesn’t have to be enough now. Just let me start. Just give me the chance to prove that you’ll never carry this alone again."

You looked at him, and for several minutes in silence, you pondered. You loved him so much, and had been so hurt by his neglect, but in all these years together, this was the first time you saw him so desperate. A feeling that maybe things could be different from here on out poked at your mind. There was a small spark of hope.

"If I stay, Satoru, it has to be different." Your voice finally broke the silence. "I can’t go through this again."

He nodded vigorously, the tears now freely streaming down his face.

"I know. And I will be different. You don’t have to believe me now, but I’ll show you. Every day. For the rest of my life."

You sighed, the emotional and physical exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"You have one last chance, Satoru. Don’t make me regret it."

He lowered his head, pressing his lips reverently against your hand.

"I won’t. I swear on everything I am."

And so, even amidst the scars, a new promise was made. A promise he knew would take a lifetime to fulfill, and he did. He loved you every day, showing his affection, admiration, and tenderness every day you stayed by his side.

And you couldn’t be sure, but you had this feeling so peculiar that the pain you felt that day wouldn’t be for evermore

#jjk #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #jjk angst #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #imagine

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sincerelyriize · 11 hours ago

Text

cotton candy | p.wb

“so we just have sex to solve all our problems”

💿now playing: cotton candy by yungblud

❯ summary: Your boyfriend, Wonbin, is so fucking stubborn that he never knows when, how or why he should apologise. Good thing he’s good at hot, sweaty make-up sex though.

❯ pairings: wonbin x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, angst, smut

❯ words: 1.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, make-up sex, pretty arguing for like a second, wonbin is insufferably stubborn, mention of marking, unprotected sex, lowkey a toxic dynamic oops

an: this fic has absolutely nothing to do with cotton candy, or the song really lol, i was just inspired by this one lyric.

Park Wonbin is stubborn—but not as stubborn as you.

He never thought he’d meet someone who could rival him in that department, let alone end up dating them. It’s a mess, really. Maybe even toxic. Because while he loves every single part of you, when the two of you argue, it’s like fire meeting fire.

It gets nasty. Personal. Downright vicious. Honestly, your friends can’t figure out how you’ve lasted this long—especially since neither of you ever wants to be the first to back down. Apologising? Yeah, no.

Wonbin doesn’t apologise.

But this time, he really should.

It started the same, always does, over something petty like the dishes, or jealousy or when he works long hours and forgets to schedule you in but always seems to have time for the boys. That last one was oddly specific because it’s the exact reason you’ve been screaming at each other in his apartment for the past twenty minutes.

You’d jabbed at his chest with your finger and he’d swatted it away. The fury in his eyes lit aflame, and you weren’t sure you saw an end in sight.

But then he said it.

“If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

That was the end. Because stubborn might as well have been your middle name, and you were ready to make good on his threat—if only his apartment wasn’t so far from yours.

“Fine, I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

“Fine,” he spat.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed off to the bedroom, your footsteps heavy with anger. You didn’t bother slamming the door—too cliché—but the sharp click of it shutting was enough to drive your point home.

You busied yourself with grabbing whatever you’d brought over—a spare set of clothes, your charger, a few toiletries—but the more you moved around the room, the more frustrated you became. Your hands shook as you stuffed items into your bag, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from yelling.

Yelling would give him too much satisfaction, and satisfaction was the last thing you wanted to give him right now.

You throw yourself onto the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. The covers feel cold, they always do when he’s not there to cuddle you asleep, not that you’d want that right now, you’d technically just broken up—maybe—ugh, you don’t know. He’s too complicated to work out.

Instead, you curl up on your side, the pillow barely softening the tension in your neck. And sleep doesn’t come easily—your mind replays every word, every jab, and that final, infuriating sentence: “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

Asshole.

Hours pass, the silence of the apartment punctuated only by the occasional creak of the floorboards and the low hum of the city outside. Your phone screen glares at you from the nightstand, but you ignore it. You weren’t about to scroll through social media for comfort—not tonight.

The doorknob turns with a faint click, and the door opens just enough for him to slip inside. The soft rustle of his clothes and the weight of his footsteps tell you exactly who it is.

You don’t move. Don’t look. Just stay still, pretending to be asleep.

And then the bed dips—but it’s not like you can be mad—this is his house, his room, his bed.

Just…why did he have to be so goddamn stubborn? You’re not going to apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong.

And like you said, Wonbin doesn’t apologise either.

Well…not verbally, at least.

Because within minutes, the shift in the mattress goes from tentative to deliberate. His hand slides across your waist, pulling you flush against him, and before you can even protest, he’s pressing into you—pinning you to the bed, his actions saying everything his pride won’t.

Because when Wonbin knows he’s wrong, he’s bad with words. Instead his body moves against yours, wordlessly pleading for forgiveness the only way he knows how—telling you he regrets what he did.

This is the exact reason he doesn’t apologise. Why should he when he can just fuck you silly and make up?

It’s always from the back after you fight, and you’ve come to understand that it’s because Wonbin doesn’t want to look into your eyes and see any lingering hurt. He's not supposed to be the one that hurts you, he hates it actually.

His hands wrap around your wrists, smashing your palms against the mattress as his slender frame rubs against your back, allowing you to feel every inch of his hot, sweat-soaked skin as he thrusts.

His face finds his favourite place, buried in your nape, because there’s something so possessive about it; and he needs to mark it because he doesn’t want you to leave. He might have said it, yes, but he didn’t mean it. You have to know he didn't mean it.

Your nails dig into the sheets as he licks and sucks, leaving his signature purple love bites across your flesh. You practically mewel into the pillow you’re chewing on when he dips between your shoulder blades and marks there too.

He’s really drilling it home, and you can feel all of the passion and love he has for you poured into his fucking, but it’s almost not enough.

It’s too easy. He’s too easy to forgive considering he hasn’t muttered the word ‘sorry’ since you met him.

But as you turn around to try and even attempt to reprimand him, one look at the crimson tint on his pale complexion and the heavy lidded haze on his eyes has you clenching around his cock. And then the fucker had to go and whimper, the sound so faint and vunberable it was impossible to be mad at him.

“Binnie—” you moan, arching your back to give him a better angle, pushing yourself into his fervent rutting.

Your head rolls against your shoulders, tilting back, needing a better look of him. His unruly black hair damp and sticking to his own face, his lip chewed from biting down. He nuzzles close to your cheek, panting and grunting in your ear and it becomes your undoing.

“Baby, kiss me…” you plead with him for just a little taste, your lips parted, jaw hanging slack and your eyes dazed.

You can’t believe you’re the one begging him right now.

Instead of answering you, Wonbin only grunts and nests his face into your neck, where he kisses and sucks and nibbles on your pulse point as his hips slap against your ass in rapid, needy thrust. He keeps uttering your name, whining it in between his ragged breaths, squeezing both of your wrists until your fingers are tingling.

You can tell that he’s right on the edge, chasing his elusive high deep into your cunt, his sensitive tip twitching and throbbing as it daubs at your inner nerves. Your stomach knots up.

“Oh, fuck, Bin—!”

Wonbin wraps a gentle fist around your neck and guides your face back into the pillows, shushing you breathlessly as he does so. You know why— you’re so damn loud when he fucks you like this, and Wonbin is a jealous man. Your moans are his to hear—not his lousy neighbour who he has seen checking you out a couple of times.

That could start another argument on its own.

As you both settle, your body trembling with aftershocks and his twitching needily, you feel him pull out with a long, shaking moan. Your body reacts, missing the feel of him. You roll onto your back, panting whilst staring at the ceiling and he sits back on his knees.

You look at him and manage a small smile, though his face remains clouded with a frown. His eyes flicker to yours for a moment before darting away. You sigh, already knowing what this means—you’ll have to be the one to speak first.

“Baby, c’mere,” you say softly, opening your arms.

It’s all the invitation he needs. Without a word, he slides into your hold, his movements almost hesitant as he rests his head against your chest. He avoids your gaze, even as your fingers thread gently through his damp hair.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice tender and low. “I forgive you. I love you.”

Maybe Park Wonbin was as stubborn as you.

#riize smut #wonbin smut #wonbin x reader #riize x reader #riize one shot #riize hard hours #riize scenarios #kpop smut

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jjkfanfic · 23 hours ago

Text

Nanami kento X Y/N

The Forgotten Anniversary

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a gentle glow over Tokyo as Nanami finished up yet another long day at work. It had been a grueling battle against a particularly stubborn curse, and he was grateful for the quiet in his office as he finished the report. But as he glanced at the clock, the realization hit him like a wave—he had lost track of time.

He had meant to be home earlier, but the curse had demanded his attention. With a sigh, he collected his things, promising himself he would make it up to her for being late.

As he entered their quiet apartment, the first thing he noticed was the warm, sweet scent that filled the air. His heart sank a bit as he spotted the flickering candlelight, casting soft shadows on the walls. A beautifully set table awaited in the dining area, complete with a fancy dinner and an elegantly arranged dessert, and then it hit him.

He had forgotten their anniversary guilt consumed him.

“Y/N?” he called softly, hoping she was just in another room.

No response.

He stepped further into the living room and found her curled up on the couch, fast asleep. Her hair fell gently over her face, and a soft smile lingered on her lips, even in her dreams. His heart ached at the sight, realizing the effort she had put into this night—the decorations, the food, the ambiance. It all felt like a stark reminder of how he had let the day slip through his fingers.

Quietly, he tiptoed to the dining room, to the dinner she had carefully prepared. He gently placed the food and dessert inside the fridge, not wanting to disturb her any further. The sight of the untouched anniversary meal made him feel even worse.

With a soft sigh, Nanami turned back to the couch. He knelt down beside her, brushing a few strands of hair from her face.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, feeling the weight of regret. He should have been here with her, not working late.

Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against him. She stirred slightly, but her grip instinctively tightened around him as if sensing his presence even in her sleep. He carried her gently to their bedroom, where he laid her down softly on the bed, he pulled off her jeans and shirt so she was comfortable and pulled the covers over her to keep her warm.

As he tucked her in, he whispered an apology once more, wanting to make it right. He stripped oit of his work clothes and settled next to her, pulling her close, feeling her warmth seep into him. A sense of comfort washed over him as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for the first time that day, with his wife curled into his arms.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. Y/N stirred, but it wasn’t the natural light that woke her. It was the soft warmth of a kiss against her forehead. She blinked her eyes open to see Nanami sitting beside her, bare chest, low hanging sweat pants and a warm smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice low and soft, like the sweetest melody. “Happy-late-anniversary.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion, still half-asleep. “Nanami, it’s morning?” she murmured. Confused as to why he was home from work.

He chuckled, the sound warm and rich as he pecked her forhead again.“Yes, but I called in to work. Today is for us.”

Her heart swelled at the thought, her disoriented mind piecing together last night’s events. “You didn’t have to do that...” she said, voice sleep-heavy.

“I wanted to,” he replied earnestly, leaning down to place a tender kiss on her lips. “I felt terrible for being late yesterday.”

Y/N’s heart sank a little at the memory of the forgotten anniversary, but his presence washed away that sadness. "You’re here now.” she said with a smile

He brushed his thumb over her cheek, his gaze sincere. “I want to make it up to you. I made you breakfast.”

With that, he kissed her lips softly and stood, walking out, where the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Y/N sat up, feeling more awake, she stood and grabbed one of Nanamis sweaters, slipped it over her head to keep warm, as she walked into the dining room, she took in the sight before her. The table was filled with a spread of fluffy pancakes, eggs, crispy bacon, and a small fruit arrangement.

“Wow, you really went all out,” she said, her heart fluttering.

Nanami shrugged, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his demeanor as a blush dusted his cheeks lightly. “I wanted it to be special. Just like you.”

She smiled, feeling warmth envelop her. “You’re too sweet,” she said, she aalked up to him and hugged him tight and kissed his chin before pulling away.

As he poured her a cup of coffee, he added just the right amount of cream, it was like he had been married to her for 6 years for something, she giggled st the thought. “I hope I didn’t burn anything,” he said, a touch of worry in his tone.

“It smells perfect,” she said, taking a seat at the table and admiring the spread before her. The sight of the delicious breakfast made her stomach growl in anticipation.

Nanami slid the steaming cup of coffee in front of her with a soft smile. “I hope it’s not too much,” he said, taking a seat opposite her.

“It’s just perfect,” she reassured him, taking a sip of the coffee and savoring the rich flavor. “Thank you for this. You really didn’t have to take the day off work.”

“I wanted to. You deserve to be celebrated, especially after everything you put into last night,” he said, a hint of remorse in his voice. “I’m really sorry for working late.”

Y/N felt a pang of sadness looking back on the previous night. The candles, the carefully set table—it had all been for this moment. But as she saw the sincerity in his eyes, that sadness melted away. “It’s okay, Nanami. I understand. Please stop apologizing"

“No, it’s not okay,” he replied firmly, his expression shifting to one of determination. “You’ve always supported me, and I should’ve been here for our anniversary-for you. I want to make it right, not just today, but every day.”

Touched by his words, Y/N felt her heart swell. “You already are, just by being here,” she said softly, her eyes glistening.

They dug into breakfast, conversation flowing easily between bites. Laughter filled the room, as they talked, playful teasing mixing with heartfelt moments. As they finished, Nanami reached across the table and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “I Love you" he murmured

Y/N smiled at him and whispered "I love you too"

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httpvomitello · 1 day ago

Text

Cold Heart ⁠*⁠.⁠✧ (part 5/final)

cregan stark x targ!reader

(part 4)

Two weeks passed since Cregan had made his journey to Dragonstone, and though the silence between you both remained, there was something heavier in the air now—a tension thick with the weight of unspoken words. Cregan had stayed at Dragonstone, determined to right the wrongs he had done. Despite the coldness between you, he had not left, not again.

At first, you were resolute in your silence, unsure whether you could ever forgive him for the hurt he had caused. But the truth was undeniable: you still cared for him, still yearned for the love you had once hoped would be returned.

And then, one evening, as the sun set behind the dark silhouette of Dragonstone’s jagged cliffs, you felt it. A sickness that had started with a wave of nausea had blossomed into something more. Your chest was heavy, and your hands trembled as you lay in bed, the reality of your situation sinking in.

You were pregnant.

The discovery hit you like a thunderclap, sharp and unexpected. For a long time, you sat still, your hand pressed against your stomach, feeling the life that was growing inside you. This child would be the tie between you and Cregan—whether you liked it or not.

There was a storm of emotions inside you. Anger. Fear. Regret. But there was something else, too. A fragile hope. A hope that maybe, just maybe, things could still be salvaged.

The next morning, you sent for Cregan, your hands trembling as you prepared yourself for what you knew would be another painful conversation. His knock at your door was soft but insistent, and you called for him to enter.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment, his eyes scanning the room before they found you. His face was drawn with worry, and though his posture was firm, you could see the way his jaw tightened in anticipation.

“I received your message,” he said, his voice steady but laced with uncertainty. “What is it you need, Y/N?”

“I need to talk to you,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice from wavering. “I’ve… I’ve discovered something.”

Cregan stepped into the room, his eyes narrowing with concern as you slowly looked up at him. “What is it?”

Your breath caught as you said the words aloud, each syllable more difficult than the last. “I’m pregnant, Cregan. With your child.”

The words hung in the air, thick with the implications. For a long moment, Cregan said nothing, his gaze locked onto you, his mind seemingly racing as the news settled. His face softened with a look you hadn’t seen from him in months, an almost imperceptible shift in his expression.

“Are you… certain?” His voice was barely above a whisper, disbelief mixing with hope.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice breaking just a little. “I am certain.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy and thick. Cregan looked at you, his brow furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

“I never intended for this to happen, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but earnest. “I never wanted to bring you any more pain. But I can’t ignore what this means.”

“You’re right,” you replied, your heart pounding. “You can’t ignore it.”

Cregan’s face softened further, and he took a hesitant step forward, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “Then… what will we do?”

You swallowed hard, trying to fight back the swell of emotions threatening to overtake you. “I don’t know yet. But I think… I think I’m willing to try again. For this child. For us.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time in months, there was a glimmer of something like relief in his gaze. He stepped closer to you, cautiously reaching out as though afraid you might pull away.

“I don’t deserve another chance,” he said, his voice rough. “But I will do whatever it takes, Y/N. For you. For our child. I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you that I can be the man you need.”

The sincerity in his words broke through the walls you had built around your heart. Your eyes welled with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I’m still hurt, Cregan,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I’m still angry. But I will give you one more chance. Not because I think we can fix everything, but because this child deserves to know their father. And maybe… maybe we both deserve a chance at something more than just pain.”

Cregan’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he said nothing. He simply stood there, his hands trembling as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms. You hesitated, but then, slowly, you allowed yourself to rest against him, your head on his chest.

“I will make this right,” Cregan whispered against your hair. “I swear it, Y/N.”

The days following your decision were filled with uncertainty. While Cregan made every effort to show his commitment, the hurt and mistrust between you were not easily erased. Still, he was present. He spent his time with you, offering support in every way he could, from attending to your needs as you navigated the early months of your pregnancy to silently standing by your side when the pain of it all became overwhelming.

It wasn’t perfect, and there were days when the silence between you threatened to suffocate, but slowly, slowly, you began to allow yourself to believe in the possibility of healing. The tension that had once hung between you began to loosen, replaced with small moments of connection—a hand held in the dark, a shared glance over the dinner table, a smile from him when your eyes met across a room.

In time, the walls between you both began to crumble. Cregan’s presence in your life became less about obligation and more about the future you were trying to build together. Though there were still many challenges ahead, you found yourself holding onto the fragile hope that things could, one day, be different.

The days of silence were not gone, but they were less frequent, and in their place, you both began to carve out a new rhythm. It was a slow process, and there were times when the past came rushing back to haunt you both, but there was progress, and that was enough for now.

You could not erase the past, nor could you forget the hurt, but in your heart, you realized that maybe you didn’t need to. Perhaps, together, you could learn to live with it, and in doing so, forge something new. Something that, despite the scars, could still be beautiful.

And for the sake of your child, you would try. You would try to make it work.

#reader #x reader #y/n #f!reader #hotd cregan #hotd x female reader #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #cregan stark x targaryen reader #cregan x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #house of the dragon

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midnighvtm4ss · 11 hours ago

Text

Oh you sweet, poisonous thing

summary: just Arthur yearning and being jealous of reader and Javier. Enjoy😽

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

content: fluff, jealousy, a hint of angst maybe ?? idk

wc: 1,8k

a/n: *taps into the mic* heyy,,, how y’all doing *voice echoes, crickets can be heard in the distance* so i kinda disappeared from tumblr ik. I went through a rough period and I thought a lot about what to do with this account. I lost all motivation to write for a while ngl, but after some thinking i decided that no matter what I’ll keep writing and posting here. After all this was and still is my little safe space where i can just forget about my life and post silly things about cowboys sooo yeah have some Arthur yearning because we should bring back yearning in 2025. ok i yapped enough bah byee

The cracking sound of the campfire travels softly in the center of camp, casting long, flickering shadows that stretch and shift over the familiar faces of the gang, dancing on their features to the sound of the soft music leaving Javier’s guitar.

It had been a rare, uneventful day—the kind where, surprisingly, nothing went wrong, and the world seemed to hold its breath afraid to burst the serene and quiet bubble that engulfed all round the camp. The stillness settled over the gang’s members like a balm, soothing old wounds and lifting everyone’s spirits. By evening, an easy carefree air had taken root, boosted by a few shared drinks and Javier’s guitar.

You sit near the fire, sandwiched between Karen and John, the blonde slouched lazily at your side, her cheeks flushed from the too many whiskey glasses she downed. Javier is in a contagious good mood, sitting on the ground near John strumming another lively tune as he leans toward you, his bronze skin glowing in the campfire’s light and he’s grinning like at you like the charmer he is.

“Why don’t you sing with me, cariño,” he says, his voice playfully teasing. A chorus of groans and exaggerated complaints come from around the campfire, the gang all too eager to tease you about the first and fortunately the last time you sang around the campfire in Horseshoe Overlook after you had too many to drink. You remember waking up the morning after with a terrible headache and the sweet memory of laughter shared around the warmth of the campfire.

You laugh at their reaction, shaking your head. “I think I’ll save everyone’s ears this time, thank you.”

Javier chuckles and with that resumes playing, his voice low and smooth. His energy is infectious, pulling easy smiles and a few soft laughs from everyone. But in the back of your mind, you can feel that there’s a subtle shift in the air—a pull, a presence that tugs at your attention like a ping you can’t ignore. It’s faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grows stronger, undeniable, familiar. You glance toward the edge of camp, and as suspected there he is.

He’s leaning against one of the wooden posts near the horses, half swallowed by the shadows, the dim firelight barely reaching the brim of his worn hat. His broad shoulders are hunched, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he’s trying to protect himself, to keep something away though you’re not sure he even knows what it is. His aqua eyes are sharp even in the shadows, and they’re fixed directly on you.

As the weight of his gaze settles over you like a heavy fog, thick and tangible, despite the distance between you, a shiver runs down your spine. Your chest tightens, as if the very air around him has thickened with unspoken things.

You’ve known him long enough to feel a quiet storm building in the depths of his quiet, unshakable composure. It’s not indifference nor anger. It’s something else—something raw and unspoken but you can’t, and maybe won’t, put a name on it.

When Javier nudges you playfully, you force yourself to focus back on him, offering him a smile that you hope conceals the tension swirling inside of you. Still, the weight of Arthur’s gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as the evening stretches on.

As the night deepens, the fire crackles low. One by one, people begin to drift off, leaving just you, Tilly, Lenny, Javier, and Karen around the fire. Tilly, who had joined your little circle a few hours earlier, is lively chatting with Lenny about some gossip she’d overheard in town, her voice bright with excitement seemingly unphased by the late hour. Meanwhile, Karen has fallen asleep with her head resting on your shoulder, undoubtedly drooling a bit on your blouse. This leaves you and Javier alone, the conversation between you two flowing easily, until he eventually sets his guitar aside with a stretch, breaking the comfortable atmosphere.

“Already going to bed ?” you tease, nudging him gently on the side. “Won’t you play me another song before you go to sleep ?”

He smirks, shaking his head with a wink.

“Tomorrow.” He promises winking at you. He stands up and disappears into the shadows of the night. After a few minutes Karen stirs awake, mumbling something about needing another drink before bed, lazily getting up on her feet, shuffling toward the camp’s supply.

After that it’s just you, Tilly and Lenny sitting near the dying fire. From your peripheral vision you can see the dark silhouette of Arthur sitting at the worn wooden round table under the tall tree in camp. You don’t look at him, not directly, but you feel his presence like a thread pulling between you. You sit there, looking at the fire contemplating if approaching him or calling it a night.

When you finally stand, your feet move before your mind can catch up with your actions. You carefully walk towards him, finding him hunched slightly over the table, his broad shoulders tense as he stares down into the nearly empty glass in his hand.

“Mind if I join you ?” you say pausing a few feet away. The sound of your voice softly filling the cold air around you both.

Arthur doesn’t immediately look up, his focus still fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. You nearly contemplate leaving when after a long moment, he tips his head in a slow, deliberate nod. “Suit yourself.”

You take a seat across from him, your hands folding in your lap playing with a few loose threads as you settle into the quiet. For a long moment, neither of you speak. The noise of the evening has faded away, leaving the camp wrapped in the soft rustle of trees and the distant sound of crickets.

“Tired ?” you finally ask, your voice hesitant, breaking the silence.

Arthur huffs a low breath, his eyes never leaving the glass. “Long day,” he mutters, a simple response that tells you nothing.

You nod, though his answer feels like a wall, a quick, easy way to avoid revealing something deeper. There’s something bothering him, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system or maybe you simply care too much for him but you’re determined to find out what.

“Javier kept everyone entertained tonight,” you say lightly, your words casual, trying to spark a conversation, though you’re watching him closely.

Arthur’s grip on his glass tightens just enough for his knuckles to go pale against the clear glass. “Yeah,” he replies, his tone flat. “He’s good at that.”

The space between you feels heavier now, filled with something unspoken, a tension that neither of you acknowledges directly. You lean back in your chair, letting the silence settle between you, but you can’t ignore the flicker of his eyes as they meet yours, then quickly shift away like he’s afraid of what might show if he stares at yours too long.

“What’re you drinking ?” you ask after a moment, breaking the quiet.

“Whiskey.”

“‘S that the good whiskey Pearson’s been hiding, or the usual watered down crap ?”

Arthur’s lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, clearly fighting a smile. “Usual crap,” he murmurs. “Pearson ain’t that generous.”

You laugh softly, the sound easing some of the tension that’s built between you. But still, it lingers, just beneath the surface, like something you both know but can’t put into words.

“You seemed quiet tonight,” you say after a pause, studying him closely.

Arthur shrugs, lifting his glass to his lips, the movement slow, as if every motion is carefully measured.

“Didn’t feel like talkin’.”

You watch him, your gaze tracing the line of his jaw, his wet lips and the way his fingers absently trace the rim of his glass. He’s not being completely honest—that much you know, but you’ve learned to read between the spaces of his words.

“Or maybe you just didn’t like the company,” you offer, your tone playful but with an edge to it.

Arthur’s eyes snap to yours, sharp and unmoving. “I didn’t say that,” he replies, his voice low, almost a growl.

He holds your gaze a beat longer than necessary, and you feel the weight of it settle deep in your chest, making your breath hitch. There’s something in his eyes, something raw, vulnerable that makes your heart stutter. You’re not sure if he sees how your composure falters, but he’s the first to look away, tipping his hat lower over his brow to shield his expression. You’ve always hated when he does that—you’ve always hated the way he uses it to put a distance between you, but now more than ever you hate it because it feels like the wall between you is growing thicker and you’re not sure if you can get through anymore.

“You’re a hard man to figure out Arthur Morgan,” you say softly, the teasing edge gone from your voice.

He doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, it’s in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You bite your lower lip in frustration but then you force yourself to swallow down your disappointment. The conversation shifts then, moving toward more trivial things like the weather, the horses, Pearson’s latest disaster with the stew. But even as you talk, you know that there’s another conversation happening in the spaces between words, in the glances you exchange, in both your body language, in the way the silence sometimes wraps itself around you both.

You don’t speak of it. You don’t name it. Neither of you can, but you know it’s there.

“Good night Arthur,” you say, your voice quieter than you intended. You give him a sweet smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before you stand, the weight of your own tiredness forcing you to seek the sweet embrace of your bed.

He doesn’t reply right away, just gives a slow tip of his hat. “Night.”

As you start to take a few steps away from the table, you feel his gaze on your back—steady, unwavering. It feels like it’s burning into your skin.

You glance over your shoulder, just once, and meet his eyes. For a moment, they’re distant, almost lost, like he’s somewhere far away in thought. But as your gaze lingers, you catch something else—something in the way his eyes soften, the barely perceptible softening of his eyebrows. It’s not a look of anger or frustration that he gives you, no, he’s looking at you with something deeper, something raw.

It’s the kind of look that makes your chest tighten, a sweet warmth settling between your ribs. He doesn’t need to say anything; you can feel it in the glance between you—the weight of all the things neither of you will dare to speak aloud.

In that brief moment, you understand. And it’s enough to leave you walking away with butterflies storming in your stomach and the strange sense that you’ve just shared something deep, something fragile with him without ever needing to say a word.

#.rira’s posting ౨ৎ ⋆#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur morgan

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damnfandomproblems · 1 day ago

Note

Problem 7009:

I disagree with this.

This morning, I read a pretty insightful post about how someone decided to stop posting their fanfiction because they were getting no comments (after the overall amount of comments had steadily declined over time across their fics, as with so many of us), then they discovered a discord server full of people were gushing and praising one of their fics on a server, using all that energy up, boomeranging it all back and forth... but not a single person had given feedback to the author. So all the feedback might as well not have existed to the author.

And it got me thinking about how, on a fundamental level, fandom is about sharing your enthusiasm about something with other people, discussing, praising, ranting, glomping (sorry), etcetera. Authors are a big part of this. They're heavy lifters in a way, they spend hours, months, years of their lives writing. But people are so used to clicking a button for something juicy, burning through it like a cloud of locusts, then going right back to the others, and never even acknowledging the author exists beyond the slightest, bare-bones passing thought. It's like people don't understand authors aren't just content creators. We're not here chasing stats, we're here because we are trying to engage with fandom but instead of posting a ramble or something, we're posting a story as the first move.

Meet us there. Don't leave us in the dark. You don't owe anyone anything, but there's been a social contract of sorts in fandom for decades, and I don't want it to die.

A heart, commenting that you're kudosing again, there are so many things that can go a long way without using up spoons. Even just pre-write a couple comments to paste if you stumble upon a fic you enjoyed.

If you see a fic without any comments, please keep all this stuff in mind.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

#fandom problem 7009 #response to previous problem #mod sf

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m00nchildwrites · 2 days ago

Text

pairings: female!reader (first person) x Xavier

tags: romance, eventual smut, based on storyline of game but diverges, little angst and feelings, resolved feelings, fluff, hurt/comfort, injury, these two need to just kiss already, use of her/she/you depend on the pov at the time, reader/MC/you is expressed as female and during smut times will use female-at-birth anatomy terms- she/her, first person when written from "your" pov- use of I/my/mine, referred to as y/n, will have nsfw content mdni- please read with caution, will be tagged, my smut gets ...vivid. Will have content from part of story line, myth cards, and other cards [possibly...probably].

{ch list: 1, 2 , 3, 4, 5 (here)}

Chapter 5: Lumiere

When I arrived in Azure Square, the scope of the situation fully sank in. There was devastation everywhere. It looked post-apocalyptic. The skyscrapers' bottom floors all had their glass blown out like from an explosion, likely the same metaflux explosion that was on set earlier that morning. Broken hologram signs were hanging or scattered on the ground below. Taxis and cars were wrecked, crushed, or on fire. It had all fallen into ruin. People ran around screaming as hordes of Wanderers attacked anything and everything that moved. Otto-bots were smashed to pieces. Explosions shook the ground. It was like when the Deepspace Tunnel first appeared when I was a child. This level of destruction had not taken place in the city since that time.

The chaotic metaflux was spreading like wildfire outwards as though it was being created and pushed further to encompass more territory. It was so thick in the air; it nearly distorted it like heat waves off of pavement in the height of summer. Hunters were already there when I arrived. More and more of my colleagues poured into the square, fighting desperately to contain the horde and their destruction. Others ushered the trapped civilians to safety.

I immediately got to work. My guns smoked from the amount of firing. I covered countless civilians as they ran, reuniting crying children with mothers and moving so many others to safety. On and on it went, yet it seemed that as quickly as we put them down, more poured in, as though they were just endlessly respawning. Hunters began falling around me one by one, and I could feel myself growing weaker. The continued and constant use of my evol over such a period of time was draining my energy.

After a particularly nasty fight, my vision blurred and I stumbled, catching myself on an overturned taxi and ducking behind it to catch my breath. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to recombobulate myself. My ears were ringing. But the sounds of battle seemed further away and fewer.

Perhaps we had made a dent afterall… or maybe the Wanderers were chasing my teammates down elsewhere. I had to pull it together and see for myself. I shook my head in a feeble attempt to shake the blurriness out of my sight. My heart was pounding from the exertion. My body was burning too, from cuts, burns, bruises, and gashes. My uniform would have to be replaced.

I tsked. My head falling back against the metal of the ruined taxi. It was beginning to look like I wouldn’t make it out of here. Like none of us still here would. Surely more teams were on their way. But, would they make it? And where were these Wanderers coming from? No. My uniform was the last thing I needed to worry about.

I reloaded my guns and, breath returned, stood from my cover and threw myself back into battle. In the distance, I saw a Hunter, a familiar figure, someone that I had worked with before- gone on that team building trip with- collapse. I rushed over- or tried- but a massive Wanderer blocked my path, forcing me to fight it. I tried to get a glimpse of the Hunter, Steve perhaps, to check on them, but by the time I finally defeated the hulking Wanderer, my energy was dangerously low. Steve was no longer on the ground. Someone else must have gotten to them. My vision swimmed.

I knew I had heavy blood loss from all my cuts and gashes. No doubt, that was not helping my light headedness and blurred vision. But it was my heart that hurt the most. With intense pain. My vitals were flashing orange on my watch: “Warning! Hunter, your energy is low! Warning! Hunter, your heart rate is irregular. Please seek out a safe-”

Beep.

“No shit,” I clicked my tongue, shutting off the annoying AI warning voice. I pushed onwards ignoring the warnings to find a safe place or to seek out medical care. People’s lives were in danger. I didn’t have that luxury.

An explosion made me duck as a burning car finally blew up. Today had quickly become a very bad, no good day. I huffed, standing from cover and firing more shots at a Wanderer. It screeched as it disintegrated into metaflux. One more down. Several dozens or more to go. I grit my teeth and pushed on through the pain.

“Y/N! Are you alright?”

I heard Captain Jenna over my comms. No doubt my vitals were going crazy at HQ. “Captain…” My voice felt weird, garbled to my own ears. That couldn’t be good, surely.

“It’s likely another Metaflux explosion will…. occur at your… location….Retreat. I repeat…”

The signal cut in and out. I squinted, pressing the comm to my ear, straining to hear, “Captain? Captain? Can you repeat that?”

“You can’t…. Fighting…. Numbers too…Retreat…”

“Captain?” I hissed at the failed signal as it cut out. I needed to get somewhere where I could get through to HQ. Someone might need help. Using my watch's guidance, I mapped out the best way out.

I was about to head out when I heard a young girl crying. “Help!”

My head spun around searching for the crying. There is another child?!

“Help us!” a woman’s voice called out as well.

There are still people here trapped! I couldn’t just leave them to die. I reloaded and began searching the square trying to stay covered as much as I could until I found them. My vision swam off and on, almost like the world was tilting. Maybe I damaged my inner ear?

Finally, through smoke and dust, I saw an arm waving from the collapsed cafe at the edge of the Square. I sent the coordinates to any nearby Hunters and HQ, calling for backup to help me dig them out. They were okay, but blocked by the fallen entrance. But in the end, danger found me first.

My watch sensed them first. Three alerts popped up in quick succession as three Wanderers appeared. “Threat level: S.” Figures.

“Get back!” I yelled into the collapsed cafe, “Take cover at the back of the cafe. Can you do that?” I yelled orders to them desperately.

“Yes,” the woman called back, “There is a storage room.”

“Hide in there until backup arrives! I am going to lure them away!” I turned back to the Wanderers and jumped and yelled, waving my arms, “Hey! Hey you giant, stupid, big ugly lugs! Look at me! I’m over here!”

The three loud roars of rage signaled that they got the message.

“Oh shit,” I took off running, three giants pounding the ground in pursuit. Good. They took the bait. Unfortunately, the bait was me.

As I ran, I felt my belt for how many bullets and clips I had left. My equipment was low. Too low. And my stamina and energy wouldn’t last much longer, but maybe if I could just draw them far enough away from the civilians in the cafe and keep these three busy until help arrived… maybe then the civilians would be safe. Maybe I’d even manage to take one down with me.

I spotted a clearing in the square. It was all the way on the opposite side, far from the civilians. The perfect place for a last stand.

As I pushed my legs to run faster, I thought of Grandma and Caleb. Maybe I will be seeing them soon? I thought of my teammates and Tara; I hoped they were okay.

I thought of Sylus and his annoying habit of calling me kitten; I’d never admit it but he was growing on me. I’d miss his terrible singing and how he always had my back, no questions asked. I’d even miss his damn gothic chicken.

I thought of Zayne, my childhood and dearest friend currently; he would be devastated and so very mad I didn’t play it safe. I’d miss our meetups for sweets and his sarcastic dry humor and getting him to crack a smile as I sang loudly to songs in the car.

I thought of Rafayel; he would be so heartbroken to lose his favorite bodyguard and adventure buddy. I’d miss his antics and our beach walks and Reddie and trying to guess the song he was humming as he painted until he finally gave up and we’d dance around his studio singing whatever pop tune came to our heads.

Inevitably, as I spun to a stop, guns aimed at the three massive S-class Wanderers coming for me, I thought of Xavier. Of how sweet and peaceful he looked as I last saw him, curled up and sleeping, silver-blonde hair tousled in his sleep. He was gorgeous, painfully so. And I never told him. Never told him what I felt. How my heart skipped and then raced just for him. How his smile was brighter than the sunrise and made me want to spout poetry and listen to love songs. How his gentle touches made heat and longing fill my very being. I thought about how worried he got over me, how protective he was. How he seemed to naturally guard me from harm not because he thought me incapable, but because it was natural, instinctual. I thought of how his face would crumple when he learned that I hadn’t made it this time. Because I wouldn’t. I thought about him and I realized-

I love him.

“Xavier…” a tear slipped down my cheek as I took aim and fired, “I’m sorry.”

A roar filled my ears and my head whipped sideways. When did that Wanderer get over there?!

And then darkness and pain.

My mind seemed to flicker to the past. A memory. All those years ago to before when I was a child. The smell of smoke was the same. The screams and roars of Wanderers.

I clutched my gun and fired towards the Wanderers I knew were around me, hovering nearby, waiting to pounce again. The pain-filled roar of one told me I hit one. They were going to crush me. This was it. My mind played out the nightmare from my past like an overlay on top of the present. It was so similar, but different. This time, I wouldn’t make it, would I?

Dazzling light suddenly surged through the dark haze of my failed vision and in my memory. A shockwave of light blasted through the area. The Wanderers had no place to hide. They dissipate into metaflux dust leaving only the echo of their shrill screeches in the air. Even the distant sounds of fighting stopped.

Just how big was that blast of light? My mind felt woozy as my vision came through as dark shadows and shapes. Another slash of light slashed through the darkness of my vision. Golden light filled the air and poured down like rain, washing away filth. I could hear the pops and screeches of more Wanderers further away.

I blinked trying to focus. I struggled, trying to sit up. I saw a beam of light flashing through the golden speckles of light dancing in the air like fireflies. It is headed towards me like a meteor. Space and time itself appeared to distort around the radiant light. I should likely feel worried. The intense beam was headed for me, but I felt only serenity. My arms gave out and I fell backwards. As I fell, my memory flashed back through my mind– my memory of the past event like this one– suddenly it came through clear and vivid.

Arms caught me; Hands cradled my head just before it hit the concrete. I heard voices exclaiming surprise and shock. People no doubt were drawn out by the spectacle of light that sent the Wanderers away. But all I could see was him.

Dazed, I looked up into the face of the one who caught me and held me embraced into their chest. Something about him was familiar. His energy or perhaps his scent? I blinked away the haze, trying to focus. I saw silvery blonde hair… I think?

“Xa-Xavier?” my voice is barely a whisper.

The figure didn’t answer but merely wiped at blood on my face and at the corner of my mouth. Wishful thinking. He isn’t here. Through my blurry vision, all I could see was a warm gaze, profound as a lake but deep and intense with urgency. Then, I saw it. The mask.

“You!” I gasped.

He swept me off my feet as he carried me up into his arms, then we were in the air. The wind blowing past my face. In my exhaustion, my vision started to blur and darken at the edges again.

“Close your eyes if you're tired,” a soft and warm voice drifted to me through the haze. He cradled my head to his neck as more flashes of radiant light rain down from his blade. I heard cheering from below as the last of the Wanderers were cleared and metaflux fluctuations righted. A glowing moon signalling the user. Lumiere. He had returned, and like 14 years ago, he saved me again.

Sharpness cut through the haze and I gasped in pain. The arm around me tightened. I leaned back to reassure him, but my voice caught in my throat. The pain had cleared my vision. The face before me was crystal clear.

“Xavier?” The pain hit again and I clenched my eyes shut with a hiss. My words cut off and stuck in my throat in exchange for a groan of pain.

“Sleep,” he spoke, cradling my head back into his neck, “Don’t force yourself to stay awake.” His gloved hand brushed over my eyes, and they closed, heavy, as I relaxed in his arms, my guard relinquished at last. And I slipped into a world of sweet darkness.

I came to sometime later. The moon was in the sky.

“Does it hurt?”

I turned my head and saw Xavier bandaging my hand.

“I did some first aid,” he continued softly, concern sitting heavy on his brow. “The roads are still a wreck right now. I will take you to the hospital for a thorough examination later when I can get through.”

I turned my head the other way towards the sounds of people talking and crying. They sounded far but close at the same time. It was then I realized that we were on a rooftop. Down below, Azure Square was reduced to ruble. Rescue workers ran around searching for who needed immediate help. People were looking for loved ones. It was a mess. Camera crews and journalists had also arrived, trying to get the latest updates.

Xavier’s small huff of a laugh drew my attention back. His grin was tiny as he looked at me softly in amusement, “Don’t worry. The people in the cafe are safe.”

My brows smoothed. He knew me so well. I had been wondering about them.

“And there aren’t any other casualties,” his face fell slightly, his hand brushed away a strand of hair from my face, “You’re the only one who is severely injured.”

I studied his face. The contours of it etched into my heart, but now that I am seeing them again, they seem shrouded in unfamiliar shadows. Secrets.

“Why are you here?” I asked at last.

He looked down, away from my gaze, “Who else were you expecting to see?” He deflected my question as he busied himself with my wounds again.

I was tired. Tired of the secrets. I pressed, likely for the first time, I truly pressed, “But how did you get here?” The image of him curled up asleep in that pod flashed in my mind. “Are you okay now?”

“I slept well, so I am fully recovered.”

“How? You practically shut down in the no-hunt zone… Then there was that pod and those syringes-”

He sighed, “You’re the one who needs to be cared for right now.” He gently pushed my shoulder, forcing me to lay back again.

I obeyed with a huff and then winced in pain.

He tsked, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he worried over the bandages he had placed over various wounds. My side seemed to worry him in particular.

I felt the urge to explain how I got so bad, “It was urgent. I had to–”

“I only know that if I had been even a second later, I would’ve lost you. Forever.” Though his tone was flat.

“...No,” I tried to relieve that heaviness that settled on his shoulders, “that’s not- Don’t underestimate me. I’ve always been lucky.” I gently took his hand in mine, “14 years ago, Lumiere saved my life. And this time…” I looked into Xavier’s eyes. “Lumiere saved me again. I must be the luckiest person alive.”

His eyes studied my face, his expression calm aside from the storm of emotions swirling in his gaze. “You might just feel lucky…” he spoke, as his hand reached out to brush dirt from my face, gently, fingers lingering, “But for me, it’s a wonderful blessing.”

The sounds of the news screens below reach our ears. Lumiere is declared the savior of the day's events and the one who vanquished the Wanderers. It is also suggested that he was the one who cleared up the odd anomaly from a few days ago with the apocalyptic storm.

I glanced over to Xavier to see his brow furrowed and his mouth turned down. I hated seeing him troubled. And the news wasn’t exactly a good thing. I remembered the wanted posters in the Nest. Lumiere- Xavier could be in danger if anyone found out.

I reached out and placed my hand on his arm, “I am sure that news of Lumiere’s return will be all anyone talks about in the morning.” I smiled at him teasingly. He was lost in thought for a moment, then suddenly scooped me up into his lap. I squeaked in alarm and scrambled to wrap my arms around his neck, “Xavier, what the hell?”

He chuckled, holding me to his chest. “We should hurry.”

I blinked, “Why?”

“We need to get to the hospital. Otherwise, everyone will be rushing over after dawn to catch a glimpse of Lumiere.” He hesitated, glancing down at me, “Your doctor…”

“Dr. Zayne?”

He nodded, “You trust him?”

“I’ve known him since we were children.”

“But you trust him.”

“With my life… quite literally,” I grinned, but he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Xavier’s tense expression didn’t shift as he held my gaze before looking down to the fray below us. His eyes were troubled, and I realized what he was getting at. I held his face between my palms, “Hey, look at me.” I smiled softly as his blue-blue gaze fell back on mine, “Zayne is a good person. He wouldn’t put anyone at risk.”

He frowned, lower lip pouting slightly, “Zayne?”

“Doctor Zayne,” I squished his cheeks slightly grinning at his pout, “but I would never want you to feel uncomfortable. If you can get me close enough, somewhere secret and hidden nearby, I can make it into the hospital myself.”

His pout fell into a flat look, “You’re wheezing.”

“What?”

He leaned his cheek slightly more into my palms, “Your breathing has a slight wheeze to it. I’m not letting you walk anywhere.”

“Xavier, Lumiere is wanted. You can’t be see-”

He shook his head resolutely, “You likely have a broken rib pressing into your lung. Your heart is also erratic.”

“The heart part is nothing.” His gaze darkened deeper into worry at that, but I waved it off trying to ease his stress, “I’m used to that. And I can breathe fine, see?” I tried to take a deep breath and gasped as a sharp pain tore through my rib cage and chest, “F-fuck!”

Xavier’s eyes went wide, frantic. He called my name, standing. His arms tightened around me, “If you trust your doctor… then I will too.”

“Wha-”

“I will never leave you all alone. Ever,” His voice was soft but firm, leaving no room for debate. Pressing me closer, his lips brushed my forehead, “You might get dizzy. Hold on tight.”

I pressed my face into his neck and let my eyes close, taking in his scent. For a while back there, in the fighting, I was sure that I would never see him again. My arms tightened around him slightly at the thought. Now, though, he had come and saved me. My masked hero, Lumiere. My knight, my prince charming, Xavier.

I smiled into his neck. Xavier, Thank you. Before I could react, the world around me started to spin again, “Ugh.”

His chuckle reached my ear, raising goose bumps along my arms as his breath tickled at my ear, “I warned you.”

“Menace,” I hissed, earning another chuckle.

The world stabilized and we were in a familiar office. I blinked, lifting my head from Xavier’s neck. My bewildered eyes met equally bewildered green eyes from his spot behind his desk. He appeared to have stopped in his movements to collect something. His hair was slightly a mess, showing how busy the hospital was with the attack. He looked frazzled, or as frazzled as Zayne ever looked.

Zayne looked from me to Xavier who still held me. His sharp, analytical eyes taking in Xavier’s clothing and widening just barely as recognition hit him. His eyes narrowed as he looked over my form. His hands clenched at his sides, the temperature dropping in the room as he made to step forward.

Xavier’s voice level but firm cut through the tension, “You are her doctor, yes? Dr. Zayne, correct?”

Zayne gave a slight nod. He looked to me, uncertain, seeking a question with his eyes. When I smiled slightly and waved my fingers in the air, the tension drained out of his stance and he sighed, sounding over my antics already. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. “And you are her partner, the Hunter…” He looked Xavier up and down, “or should I call you Lumi-”

“Xavier is his name.” My voice cut in, drawing two pairs of eyes. “Just Xavier, Dr. Zayne,” I repeated. The message clear. This knowledge wouldn’t leave this room.

Zayne gave a slight shake of his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Very well.” Zayne appeared not entirely happy with the situation.

Xavier looked down at me with his brows raised, from surprise or what, I wasn’t certain. I gave his shoulder a small squeeze in an awkward hug, I was, afterall, still being held in his arms. It was sort of hard to hug him like this, but my reassurance worked because his face softened as he looked at me.

Zayne let out a sigh and moved to us, “I can take it from here… Xavier. Let me see her.” He reached out to take from Xavier’s arms, who took a half step back. Zayne rose a singular black brow.

I huffed, “Guys, I can walk.”

“Not on my watch.” “I think not.”

I frowned at both of them as they frowned at each other.

“I’m not leaving her,” Xavier declared.

“Xavier…” I sighed, annoyance at the lack of independence leaving me and concern for Xavier taking its place, “You can’t be seen. Lumiere buzz is everywhere and you very obviously,” I flicked his earring, “Are wearing his clothes.”

“No one has ever connected the dots before,” he argued even as he relaxed his hold slightly. I knew I was getting through to him.

“Yes, well, people are stupid,” I scoffed.

“Y/N,” Zayne chidded.

“What! It is true! What is this? A Superman movie? Take off the mask and POOF where’d Lumiere go?” I squeezed Xavier’s face between my palms and turned it towards Zayne, “Look at him and tell me it is not obvious!”

Zayne did in fact eye Xavier before tilting his head slightly and begrudgingly admitting, “Point made.”

I turned back to Xavier’s face, “See?”

Xavier’s eyes wavered. Something deep in those pools of azure rippled with some unknown fear and pain, “I can’t lose you. Not again.”

The breath in my chest froze as he pinned me with those eyes. I felt the strangest sense of panic, desperation, and longing fill my chest; my arms tightened around his neck slightly, as though afraid if I didn’t hold on, he’d slip away into the stars and be gone from me forever.

“I think,” Zayne’s voice made me jolt suddenly pulling from that odd magnetic pull I had felt, “It would be best for all parties if I took it from here.” He looked to Xavier, who looked solemn. Zayne seemed to regard him differently than he had mere moments before. “Unless, of course, you wish to have all of the hospital and soon the media aware that Lumiere is here and just who he brought… single handedly… personally.” His eyes flicked to me pointedly.

Zayne was right, of course. If anyone found out that the legendary hero Lumiere had brought a woman to the hospital himself, the media would be in a frenzy spinning love stories, and I would be the target for their attention. I knew from Rafayel how much of a nightmare that could be.

And Xavier knew it too from the way his shoulders slumped as his eyes averted briefly before fixing onto Zayne firmly. His eyes narrowed as he tilted his chin up briefly. His tone was firm, a slight sharp edge to it, “Do you want to get that under control then, Doctor?”

Zayne’s eyes fell to his hands where crystalline shapes had creeped up from his wrists. He looked slightly surprised and chagrined about it. As he shook them slightly, tiny snowflakes fell to the ground, the ice of his evol receding.

“Really, guys,” I interrupted, “I can walk.”

“You have a punctured lung,” Xavier stated matter-of-factly. “And you’ve lost a lot of blood. You’ll likely need an infusion.”

Zayne tsked, sweeping in, clearly over my ‘nonsense’ as he called my stubbornness, and gently took me from Xavier’s arms. The crystals were gone, but in their place, he looked absolutely unamused, “How did you manage this?”

I opened my mouth to retort that it was my job when Xavier spoke up.

“She was holding down the Square… single handedly.”

Zayne’s gaze fell to me sharply as mine snapped to Xavier, “Traitor.”

Xavier’s mouth twitched in an almost smile. My eyes narrowed. He looked to Zayne, “You will take care of her until I get back.”

Zayne looked at him as though he was dim, “I will look after her regardless of your return.”

I frowned, Zayne was being even more blunt than usual.

Xavier ignored it and looked back to me, “I will take care of everything. Just recover. I will be here when you get out.”

“What?” He had that look on him, the one he wore on missions, “Xavier? What are you-”

Zayne let out a tired sounding sigh and made for the door, “I trust you can find your way out?” He said to Xavier, but the flash of light behind us signaled Xavier’s exit.

Prying my eyes from the spot Xavier had just left from, I opened my mouth to insist on walking again, but he cut me off as he kicked the door to his office open.

“You have any other interesting friends I should be aware of?”

I scoffed, my head lulling as the tiredness and dizziness set back in as the adrenaline drained out of me. If you only knew.

“Nurse!” I heard him call out as he began calling out orders to his team. But I had slipped back into the black of unconsciousness. My final thought was on Xavier, and how I had gotten my wish to see him again after all. And I got to see my childhood hero as well. My partner- neighbor- crush was secretly a superhero.

What an odd day.

I woke up to the annoyingly familiar sounds of medical machinery beeping. My vision was blurry as I blinked my eyes open, pulling my face from the sterile smelling pillow it was stuck to. My mouth felt like cotton. I smacked slightly trying to get moisture back in. My vision cleared and all I saw was red.

Well, red roses. Lots of red roses in crystal vases with black satin ribbons tied around them dotted around my room on every surface available. Or at least, every surface not filled with bouquets of fire lilies mixed with exotic looking purple, blue and pink flowers sprinkled with white baby’s breath. Those sat in crystal vases of their own. I blinked, sitting up and grabbing a card from each. I opened the red envelope first.

(Translated: Kitten, A little birdy told me that you had gone and gotten yourself injured playing hero. We really need to have a talk about you and your martyr complex. It is vexing. Be a good kitten and be patient. Allow yourself to heal. I am a call away if you need me. As for the ones responsible for your injury- I am on it. Yours Truly, S)

I scoffed out a small laugh, shaking my head as I set the card down and looked at all the roses. I had no doubt before who they came from, but now I knew for sure. His line about the ones responsible made me pause. Did Sylus know who the ones were that were causing those suped-up Wanderers to appear? What was he going to do about it? I made a note to message him when I found my phone.

With a sigh, I moved onto the purple envelope. It had a slightly iridescent sheen to it, making hints of blues and pink shine out in the light. I smiled softly, fingers tracing the shell shaped wax seal. I knew who wrote this one, even before unfolding the expensive feeling paper. The looping hand of the calligraphy inside fit the man who wrote it.

(Translated: Miss Bodyguard, The sunset has lost its magic. The fishes of the reef are complaining so loudly that I am losing sleep– their friend that walked the beaches hasn’t been by and won't be for a while! I had to tell them the news to get them to give me a moment's peace. My inspiration is all dried up like a desert. How could you get so injured like this and leave me all alone to my own defenses? How shall I survive being apart from you? I will shrivel up and die of loneliness like a starfish stranded all alone in too small a tide pool. Will you take responsibility? Who will help me find the perfect shell for my collection? I started a new one, ya know? Got a whole new crystal vase for it and everything. So… you have to get better soon and help me find more shells to keep it company, yeah? You’ve really got to learn to not face things on your own, yeah? These hands aren’t just for painting. You have me, ya know? I’ve heard whispers. Rumors. I do have connections, ya know? I know who let all of those monsters out– the ones that hurt you. The ones responsible will learn- The sea never forgets those that cast offenses against its own. Eternally Yours, Rafayel)

I frowned. What did he mean ‘These hands aren’t just for painting’? Sure, I knew that there was more to Rafayel than most realized; he did have connections to the Nest, but I couldn’t help the worry that filled my heart at his words. His words about the sea never forgetting sounded especially concerning. What in the world was that fish planning?

I needed to get out of here. I needed to get to the bottom of this mess before more people I cared about got hurt. I sat up and began peeling the tape of an I.V. off my arm.

“I highly recommend that you stop doing that.”

My head whipped to the otherside of the bed, the side not filled with flowers by the door. There in a chair looking suspiciously like he had been dozing shortly before now sat Zayne. I eyed the empty coffee cups on the bed tray next to us both and fixed him with an accusatory look, “Have you been here all day? You have to have been busy with the disaster. Go take a break. I will be fine.”

He grunted noncommittally as he stood, reaching for the stethoscope around his neck. He pressed it over my heart, green eyes narrowed with focus as he watched the monitor. It seemed he didn’t trust it to report completely; his shoe tapped on the tile of the hospital room floor along with my pulse as he counted. Satisfied, he finally met my gaze, “Mhm,” he nodded slightly, “And all that night until this morning. Your… partner was quite clear about you being left alone.” His eyes went to the tape I had begun to peel, one brow raising as he fished tape from the pocket of his white coat and fixed it. He looked at me pointedly, “It seems he knows you nearly as well as I do.”

I sat back a bit dazed, “All night and this morning…? How long have I been out?”

Zayne looked at his watch, “Well, the hunter-”

“Xavier.”

“-brought you in at around 7:47pm last night. Roughly… 1.25 hrs after the Square incident was ended-”

“By him.”

“So, that would mean you’ve been here getting the care you needed for about 41.55 hours or 1.73 days, give or take a few minutes.”

“What?” My brain hurt and I could tell he was ticked, whether it was at me or Xavier, that I didn’t know. “Zayne, talk to me like I’m dumb. How long have I been here?”

“You’re not dumb.”

“Let’s pretend I am,” I rubbed a hand over my face, “I have been here for over a day?”

“Almost 42 hours.”

“42-” I stopped and eyed him fiddling with the way my IV laid. My eyes narrowed, “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Wh- Why!?” No wonder he was tissy, “You need rest too! You have to take better care of yourself.”

The glare he leveled at me was almost icy but definitely put out. He picked up my chart and flipped through it:

“Your rib wasn’t broken, but two were cracked. You likely coughed up blood due to the nasty bite to your tongue, which we found during examination. Your CT scan showed a mild concussion. I concluded that your main injuries were likely from a blunt and heavy force trauma hitting you from the right- something akin to but not exactly like a small compact car colliding with your person- causing the cracked ribs. You had whiplash of the neck to match this idea and a bump on the back of your head as well, likely from the impact and the subsequent landing of your skull to the concrete. You also had a slight sprain of your right ankle and wrist. Your heart was also in tachycardia and very nearly gave the whole heart team on call a very busy night indeed.”

My jaw snapped shut with an audible click and I plopped back on my bed. Pain radiated from my side and I winced, hand going over it to feel bandages.

Zayne clicked his tongue. He set the chart back down and set about fixing the pillow behind my head. He continued, though his tone was less harsh, softer, more worried. I felt awful for how scared he must've been, “You had to have a total of 24 stitches. Try not to twist they are on your left side. Your Hunter friend, Xavier, was it?” I nodded. “He was correct. You did need an infusion...Two, in fact. One gash hit your intercostal arteries and another cut through a majority of your lumbar arteries branching below your ribs. It is a lot of blood flow, but... " He leaned back, seemingly satisfied with the pillow. His jaw ticked as he added, "Thankfully, no major artery was hit or you would have bled out during the 1.25 hrs that he delayed your care.”

“He didn’t delay my care on purpose,” I sighed feeling tired. Tired of his prickling mood, tired because I knew he was just worried and that made me feel like shit, tired from the emotions of the day before, and tired from the meds I was surely on. “I passed out, but I woke up. He had stopped the bleeding. And I honestly did not feel so bad.”

“I’m sure his… secret identity needing to remain a secret had nothing to do with it,” Zayne’s eye leveled with mine.

I shook my head, “No. Not at all. It wasn’t until I started trying to move around that we both realized it was worse than we thought, and he immediately insisted on bringing me here, whether he was seen or not. It was me that had to convince him to be careful, otherwise he would’ve teleported us right in the middle of the Emergency Department or the OR itself.” I chuckled a bit at the thought of the nurses exclaiming as Lumiere appeared in a flash of light. I thought back to those last moments when I thought I was about to die. My voice shook slightly, “He saved my life, Zayne. I really thought I was going to die down there at the end.”

Zayne’s hand fell over mine on my blanket. He gave it a small squeeze, “If that is true... then I suppose, I owe him my thanks.”

I chuckled softly, “Whatever for? Saving your most difficult patient?”

“Hn,” he shook his head slightly, “For saving my childhood friend. My... dearest friend.”

I smiled at him at that, giving his hand a squeeze, “We’ve known each other a long time, huh?”

His mouth twitched in a near smile, as though he knew something I didn't. He glanced to the side and chuckled, “It almost feels like eternity.”

I grinned, chuckling softly as well. Curious, I asked, “Hey Zayne?”

“Hm?” He looked back. His expression back to the softer Zayne I usually knew when it was just us.

“What made you want to become a doctor?”

“My father.” His eyes darted to the side however.

“Zaaayne,” I whined playfully and wiggled his hand still in mine, “No, really. Why a heart doctor? Come on. It’s just me. I won't judge you or think it's lame. I promise.”

He sighed, “Very well… Once, when I was over playing with Caleb, I heard your Grandmother talking.” He paused, eyeing me hesitantly before continuing. “You had been sick. Very sick for a while. It was not too long after she brought you home. I’m not sure if you remember.”

“I do.” I had been terribly sick then. So much so that many of my memories were lost.

He nodded, “Well, I heard then that it was your heart making you sick. Then you got better… and I got to know you. But sometimes… sometimes you’d get sick again. Never that bad but bad. Your Grandma always tried to look brave in front of Caleb and me, but we knew. It was then that I decided.”

My eyes widened, “You became a Cardiac Surgeon because of me?”

“Of course,” the green of his eyes looked intense and vivid as he stared back, “I wanted to be the one to save you. Of course I did, for you.”

“Zayne…” I trailed off. I didn’t know what to say. What could you say to something like that?

He tore his eyes away from mine and looked around the room. “Is it really so surprising? You have a way of making me care for you.” His eyes were soft and warm as they met mine again, “It is my honor to be able to help you in this way. If I could do it over, I would do the same.”

My eyes watered and I leaned up, throwing my arms around his neck, "Well that's not lame at all! That's so impossibly sweet."

“Careful,” He said but hugged me gently back. His ears were red.

“You are amazing, Zayne, you know that? I am so, so glad that we reconnected. I wish we never lost touch at all.”

His arms tightened just slightly, “I feel the same.”

I pulled back and couldn’t help the warm smile on my face, “You are such a good friend.”

He blinked a moment and at first I thought I had said something wrong, but then he smiled back, “I will always be here for you. As long as it makes you happy.”

I grinned, “It does.”

He feigned a sigh, “It is settled then. You are stuck with me.”

“Darn it,” I teased.

He chuckled, before looking more serious, “I do have a request.”

“What is it?”

“I… I know it is your job. I understand what it is to have a career that can push you. But I must insist that you not push yourself so far. You were the only hunter to sustain this level and amount of injuries. Everyone else pulled back and allowed a replacement to go in.”

I had to look away from his searching green eyes. The pain in them made a cloud of guilt swell in my gut.

“Why do you have to take such unnecessary risks?” He leaned his elbows on the edge of the bed, “Please. Help me understand.”

“I had planned to find a safe place to go.” My mind replayed the scene. “Captain Jenna was trying to tell me something, but the signal was bad. I was heading out but then I heard them…”

“Who?”

“A Mother and child. They were trapped behind the entrance of a cafe that collapsed.” I shook my head, “I knew I needed help and sent word but then these three huge Wanderers just appeared, almost like out of thin air.”

Zayne brows furrowed, “They didn’t give off a metaflux surge?”

“They did, but it was almost instantaneous with their appearance.”

“That seems… unnatural.”

“I think… it was…” my eyes met his, “I have not made my report yet though. There will have to be an investigation…”

“But you think something or someone caused this?”

“... Yes, I do.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbed his face. “I guess… it is a good thing then.”

“Huh?”

“That Lumiere is back. Or at least, that he came back for this. For you.”

"I don't think it was just for me," face heating, I looked into my lap deep in thought.

Zayne hummed, "Perhaps."

I thought about the odd Wanderers in the Square then earlier on set. And about those guys cornering Xavier in that alley. I frowned. What was going on?

“Promise me that you won't do anything rash,” He caught my gaze, “Let the proper channels do their work. We’ve…both of us…have already lost. Let’s not add to that list.”

My chest panged at that. It was true. Zayne lost Caleb, just as I had. I nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

He smiled a soft smile at that then stood, glancing at his watch, “Well, I suppose I should get started on your paperwork.”

My eyes lit up, “I’m going home!?”

He tutted, “You will be after 8 tonight.” I groaned at that and he shook his head, brow raised, “I only agreed to that because your partner assured me that you would not so much as lift a finger for the next two to three weeks if I released you to his care.”

“You… What?” I blinked, “Two to three weeks!”

“Cracked ribs, Y/N. You Association will determine the exact length, but I have submitted my suggestions as your Doctor,” he reminded me, “Now then, he will be here after 8. Since you are being released I figured that it wouldn’t be too bad if I brought you something to eat.”

“You mean I don’t have to eat hospital food!” I laughed at his huff, “Even you have to admit it is awful.”

“The choices can be… limited.”

I scoffed, “The food tastes like cardboard or salt cakes and there is no in-between.”

That earned a chuckle. He was trying not to grin as he suggested, “Your favorite from the nearby cafe?”

“YES.”

A snort.

I grinned, “You just snorted.”

“... You’re high. It’s the meds.”

“Zayne!”

“Oh look, I’m being paged…”

“Zayne! You are off duty! You’re not even wearing a badge!” I laughed at his retreating figure, “Wait, Zayne! Come back I wont tease you about it! Snorting when you laugh is cute!”

“Just for that, no dessert.”

“You’re evil.”

“Just petty.”

“Zayne!”

This one took me a WHILE. I think it is the longest chapter so far and I almost chopped it in half AGAIN (originally this was part of chapter 4!)

The guys letters gave me trouble. I couldn't figure out how to include their handwriting and really wanted to. IDK how the heck to do code in tumblr, so I just made the letters into images and included translations for those that have a hard time with loopy fonts or that use accommodations. If you still had an issue, let me know and I will help you out by sending the letter text in a different way or something. I want to be inclusive and am open to tips!

I personally loved this chapter. I loved adding more intimate moments between Xavier and "Us". I let "Y/N" have more of a voice and I think I am having more fun with this than I even was before. Hopefully, you all are liking how she is coming across.

This chapter was also a bit of a love letter to Zayne. While he is not my main now, he was way I started playing and will always have a special place in my heart just for him. I hope he wasn't too ooc. Poor Zayne was *stressed* and suspicious for a lot of this. Still, I am comfortable (I think) with how it came out in the end.

Let me know what you all thought of this one! Did you like Sylus and Rafayel's letters? Anything you didn't like? Give me the DEETS.

Tag list:

@xxfaithlynxx @moonsavior @2kyute2poot @yournextdoorhousewitch @sapphoslostkid @ivohex @cherimoyatea @sandy2848582 @adorezhi @animecrazy76

As always, thank you for your support and for reading! Please comment to be added to the list!

#lads xavier #xavier x you #xavier x mc #lads zayne #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #xavier fluff #xavier x reader #lads rafayel #lads sylus #~Threads of Eternity #love and deepspace #my writing

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naughtyneganjdm · 2 days ago

Text

Threads of Desire: A Christmas to Remember - Chapter 5

Summary: Upset about the conversation that he had with Maggie, Negan shows up at Y/N's house hoping to convince her to quit her job and a lot of their feelings come to light.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Daryl Dixon, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61111030/chapters/158656765

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating, Angst, Smut, Heavy Touching, Unprotected P in V, etc.

Notes: Real sorry about taking a break on this. The holiday season is nuts, but I'll do my best to put up the rest of the story as soon as I can.

It had been a long time since Y/N had been this exhausted. Sure, it had been a rough few days, but this was not what she was accustomed to. Maybe it was from all the stress of everything going on. Stress was something she had grown used to, but never at these levels. When she got home today, she just crashed. She laid down on the couch and that was it. She didn’t even eat. All she remembered was walking in the door, tossing her stuff aside and falling onto the couch. Next thing she knew, she was out cold and didn’t even wake up until she heard what she thought to be the sound of someone knocking on her door.

Groaning out, she lifted her head and looked back over her shoulder at the door. Whoever was there was impatient. Laid out on her stomach, she realized that she had been sleeping face first with her head buried into the throw pillow that was at the end of the couch. All around her, the apartment was pitch black except for the small glow of the automatic light that turned on in the dark in her kitchen and the light coming from her clock.

More than anything, her body wanted to go back to bed. It needed the rest and it longed for it. Everything had been brutal on her body lately. From the lack of sleep to the destruction of her mental health. It wasn’t doing her any favors.

That wasn’t going to happen with the continued knocking though. It wasn’t just a light knock, it was an emotional knock. Which told her whoever was at the other side of the door thought they had some important reason to be there.

Pulling herself up into a seated position on the couch had an involuntary groan escaping her. Sleeping on the couch was not the best of ideas. Everything hurt. Curling her fingers around the edge of the cushion, she tried to coach herself into standing up. Sighing, she managed to gather enough strength to stand. A rushing sensation went to her head and she needed to take a minute until she was steady on her feet. Moving across the apartment, she turned on the light switch and winced at the bright lights flooding her vision.

Hearing another loud sequence of knocks had her looking to the time again. It was two in the morning. What the hell was so important that someone had to be here? And who the fuck was it?

A sense of anger was flooding her veins. It was probably over the fact that she was tired and that she had been woken up from her deep sleep, but she couldn’t control that tired rage. Heading for the door, she unlocked it and then irately pulled it open, “What the hell do you want?”

Exhaling loudly, she felt her throat tensing up with the familiar hazel eyes locking with hers. That was a time where she should have held in her emotions again. Clasping tightly to the door, she gazed over Negan. He was completely disheveled wearing his pajama pants, a bulky winter coat and a pair of boots. What he was wearing was completely mismatched and it looked like he had thrown it on quickly. His hair was messy and he looked extremely fatigued himself.

Straightening up her posture, she noticed that Negan was breathing heavily as he stood before her. His shoulders were slouched and he looked incredibly upset. Stepping into the hallway, she looked both ways realizing that he was alone.

“Negan?” she breathed out, her eyes locking with his in a state of panic. It struck her in that moment what it could have been. Coming to her home, dressed like this? Emotionally banging at her door like he had been. “What are you doing here? Is Jordyn okay? Is something wrong?”

“Jordyn is fine. She’s alright!” Negan was quick to calm her, holding his hands up in the air. By the expression over her tired features, Negan could tell that he had her worried over his daughter and that was the last thing he wanted. Fear obviously ate away at her because she had no idea why he would show up at her apartment at this time of night. “She’s back at the house sleeping in her bed. I checked on her before I came over here.”

“You left her alone?” she wondered, her fingers curling around the handle of the doorknob. She was perplexed why he was there so late. “She’s still a baby Negan. She shouldn’t be left alone. What were you thinking?”

“She’s not alone,” Negan assured her trying to ease her worries. Reconsidering it, Negan tipped his head to the side and huffed. “Maggie is there. I mean they are both sleeping, but I’ll be back before anyone can get in trouble. You know that I have the security cameras in my home linked to my phone. If anyone gets up and starts moving around, I’ll know.”

“Leaving her with Maggie is pretty much the same thing as leaving her alone,” she frowned, hating the idea that Jordyn was at home alone with Maggie. Leaning her shoulder against the doorframe, she knew she just wanted to get to the point. There was a tension in her head that likely came from the lack of sleep. “What are you doing here Negan?”

“I uh…” Negan paused, looking down the hallway of her apartment building. His face scrunched up and he shrugged his shoulders. “We really need to fucking talk. I want to talk to you.”

“And this couldn’t wait until tomorrow? Or you couldn’t just call me?” she wondered, her hand sliding down the length of the door. In the past? She was desperate for Negan’s attention. Now that she had it, she wasn’t so sure that she wanted it. It was only making things more complicated.

“Would you have answered?” Negan asked, a muscle in his jaw flexing expressing to her that he was stressed. After all the years she had spent around Negan? She easily learned what he was thinking or feeling by his expressions. Taking a moment to consider things, she stepped aside and motioned him into her apartment. Giving her a weak smile, Negan entered and started to pull off his jacket once he did. Under the jacket he was wearing an old rock band t-shirt. Holding out her hand, she requested him to give her his jacket so she could hang it for him. Turning toward him, she saw that he was taking off his boots so he didn’t get her apartment messy. After he finished, she realized that he was gazing over her body. By the way his thick eyebrows furrowed, she knew that he was perplexed. “When did you get home?”

“Hours ago. I was just exhausted,” she admitted knowing that he was referring to the fact she was still wearing the dress that Guy had requested her to wear earlier. “I just laid down and I crashed.”

Nervously flattening out the material of the dress against her body, she pointed toward her bedroom and yawned again, “Can you wait here so I can go change? Unless this is urgent.”

“No, I can wait,” Negan responded with a quick nod, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. Standing before him a moment longer, she didn’t even know what this was about. Part of her wished that she did so it didn’t make her feel so awkward being around him.

“Can you?” she turned away from Negan, pointing toward the zipper for help. Hearing him moving behind her, she knew she could have managed to get it down herself, but having Negan’s help was just easier. Closing her eyes, she felt the warmth of Negan’s fingers dragging across her shoulder. Tugging at the zipper had the material parting with her looking over her shoulder. Giving her a small nod, Negan backstepped trying to give her some space. “Thank you.”

Heading toward her bedroom, she pushed the door open when she entered. Working the material of the dress down her body, she knew that she wanted to be careful with this. Earlier she had caught a glimpse at how much this dress cost and she didn’t want to ruin it. Especially since Guy Vixen himself had bought it for her as a gift of some kind.

Walking toward her closet, she glanced over at the partially opened bedroom door to see Negan standing at the back of the couch. The way that he was standing was in such a fashion that he could watch her change. His weight was balanced on his hand that was braced on the couch. When their eyes locked, he let out a panicked sound. Pulling his hand away from the couch had him falling forward to the point she no longer saw him but heard the sound of him hitting the ground.

“Jesus!” she moved out of her room, holding the dress to her chest in attempts to cover up in some way. Not that it mattered considering he had already seen her naked earlier. When she got into the room, Negan was already pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. Immediately nodding, Negan scrambled to his feet and brushed his fingers nervously through his messy hair. Already he was incredibly red from being embarrassed. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yeah. I’m perfect. Fucking great,” Negan assured her, his voice raspier than it normally was. Forcing himself to look away from her, Negan growled under his breath and a slew of curse words followed. “Totally meant to do that.”

“Right,” she couldn’t help but laugh with the prominent vein at the side of his neck bulging. This was a time where she could have teased him that she caught him watching her change, but he was already upset enough as it was. She didn’t want to push her luck. “I’m going to finish changing. And then I’ll be back. Try not to knock anything over this time, okay?”

A fake laugh was forced from Negan’s throat with him moving around the couch to sit down. Burying his head in his hands, she could tell that Negan was talking to himself but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Shaking her head, she moved back to her bedroom and was quick to hang up the dress. Throwing on a quick pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, she knew that she wasn’t out to impress. It was two in the morning. He would be fine if she was in pajamas since he was in his too. When she was done, she headed back into the living room to join Negan.

“Can I get you anything?” she offered, moving around to her Christmas tree to turn the lights on. The living room area lit up with all the things she had decorated making a weak smile tug at Negan’s features when he was surrounded by the glow. Preferring that to the actual lights, she moved over toward the switch to turn the main light off. There were enough decorations for them to be able to see one another underneath the glow of them. “Water? Hot chocolate? Some ice for that fall?”

“Fuck me, you’re not gonna let that go are you?” Negan scoffed, his nose wrinkling in frustration when she started to laugh. “It was a miscalculation of where to balance my body weight. I’m tired. I’m fucking sorry.”

“Yeah, okay,” she made it obvious that she didn’t believe him. And he knew that his lie was a shitty one. Really, she didn’t want to make things weird. Pointing out that she caught him staring at her changing was not going to enhance their friendship. Moving around the coffee table that was in front of the couch, she took a seat at the opposite end of it. Getting comfortable, she tucked her leg underneath her so she could face him. “So, what are you doing here at two in the morning? What couldn’t wait?”

“Did you have sex with Guy?” Negan stammered causing her to choke at the immediate question he so simply blurt out. That was not a question that he was embarrassed of. It was one that he was obviously worried about because his eyes seemed upset. “Tonight, when Maggie came over, we were talking about you. This whole job thing. She also stressed to me that she thinks Guy is only doing what he is because he wants to have sex with you.”

“I didn’t realize my sex life was so important to yours and Maggie’s relationship,” she chimed in, smirking at her smartass remark. Negan however was not impressed with what she had just said. Rolling her eyes, she tipped her head to the side and knew that Negan wanted a genuine answer from her. “I did not have sex with Guy. If you would have asked Maggie that question, you would have known that I left before Maggie and Guy did today. He dismissed me when they were still finishing something.”

Relief flooded throughout Negan’s body and it blew her away how easily she could tell that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, “That’s why you came all the way out here in your pajamas? To ask me if I had sex with Guy Vixen?”

“No. Well, yes. But…no?” even Negan didn’t seem to know the answer to that question. His face twisted with frustration, his fingers sinking nervously into his messy hair while he tried to slick it back. Gathering his thoughts, Negan swallowed down hard and considered what the best thing to say next was. Shaking his head, he inhaled loudly with his back becoming straighter with the way he was sitting. “I think you should quit your job.”

“And why is that?” she breathed out, biting down at her bottom lip as Negan turned his body to now face her at the opposite end of the couch. This was something that seemed to be weighing heavy on him and she didn’t know how to approach the conversation. “I thought you said this was a good thing. That I should take advantage of what was happening.”

“Well I changed my mind,” Negan asserted, holding his hand up to silence her from reminding him of what he had said to her earlier. “I don’t think Guy is doing this out of purity. I don’t think he cares to see your talents. He just wants to fuck you. And I think him taking advantage of you while holding the promise of the job you want over your head…”

“Do you think I would sleep with someone in order to get the job that I wanted?” she wondered, reaching for the throw pillow that was between the two of them to hold it in her arms.

“I don’t know,” Negan was honest with her, his jaw flexing. There was a sense of worry that flooded his veins that she would get mad at him for saying that. “You are really depressed and upset. If someone offered you everything you wanted just by asking for sex from you…I think most people would take that deal. Don’t you?”

“I think that’s a very debatable topic,” she suggested, throwing one of her hands up in the air and it had Negan shifting uncomfortably. “I can handle Guy Vixen, Negan. You don’t have to worry about me. I know he wants to have sex with me, but I won’t act on it. I’m not someone who will have sex with my boss to get the job that I want.”

“Okay,” Negan sucked in a sharp breath of air, his thick eyebrows furrowed. A nervous expression flooded his features before he licked his lips nervously again. “It’s really not that simple though. I just…I don’t think you should be working for Maggie anymore.”

“Oh?” that one was a surprise to her. Truthfully? She didn’t know what to say to that. “And why is that?”

“It doesn’t matter why,” Negan thought back to the conversation that he had earlier with Maggie. Ever since they had it, he wasn’t able to put his brain to rest. There were some things he didn’t feel like he had to tell Y/N in order to get her away from that job. “I’ve been thinking about things with my career. And there is this person that has been coming to me a lot about a job. I kept telling him that I had to think about it. I didn’t know if I wanted to get back into the movies. But, I was thinking that if you want, I can take the job under the stipulation that if I sign on they have to hire you as the lead in the costume department. Or whatever job you want. I don’t even know if you want to focus on costuming. Whatever you want though, we can be a packaged deal.”

“Wait,” she waved her hands about to get him to stop rambling on about things. “You’re offering me a job now working in the film business?”

“I’m offering you a job in the film business if I’m able to sign onto something with the stipulation I bring you with me,” Negan stated, giving her a firm nod that had her muttering something under her breath. “It’s what you were asking me for the other day. A way into the film industry. So you can get away from Maggie and Vixen. A new chance at a life you always wanted.”

“You can offer me that today, but you couldn’t do that the other day?” she spoke up, her chest aching hearing what Negan was attempting to offer her. The other night at the event the college was holding he was pretty insistent that it was impossible for him to get her a job. “What changed in two days Negan?”

“I was looking at my options and I decided I agreed with you. You deserve to have a life doing something that you love,” Negan responded, his hand lifting to press in over the center of his chest. There was a sincerity in his eyes where she knew he was being honest with his answer, but she was still confused as to where this sudden job had come up now, but not before. “I care about you and I don’t want you suffering over something that you hate.”

“I thought you hadn’t worked with me in over four years. You had no idea what my work ethics were like,” she reminded him of the things that he had said to her and it made him cringe. Since she was so drunk that night he was kind of hoping that she didn’t remember the things that he had said to her when they were bickering. “What’s changed?”

“Me,” Negan blurt out, the lines in his forehead growing with him throwing his hands up in the air. How could he explain to her that he learned so much in the last few days? Things that she never needed to hear. Things that he felt horrible about himself for. Being in love with someone blinded him to the way things really were. At least someone he thought he loved. “I’ve changed. I’ve had time to think about things since the other night. And I’m willing to throw myself out there if it gives you a chance at happiness. I really don’t fucking like what Guy is doing to you. You’re being sexually harassed and with Maggie? I realize the things you were saying to me are true. I think she’s really fucking awful for you.”

Hearing that made a nervous smile tug at her lips, “What’s with the sudden negativity about Maggie? If I remember correctly, you were stressing to me that I should open up to her about things. You thought she would be a good friend and help me.”

“Well it finds out I’m an asshole,” he reasoned with her and it had her adjusting on the couch, lowering down the pillow that she was holding onto. That was a strange thing for him to say. “Maggie’s a terrible friend. And so am I. So I’m trying to make things right.”

“Where is this coming from?” her heart was pounding away inside of her chest as Negan forced himself to look away from her. Again his Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and he sighed loudly.

“You opened my eyes to a lot of things. And I started talking to Maggie and I realized…a lot,” Negan huffed, lifting his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose again. Squeezing his eyes shut, Negan didn’t know what he should and should not say. Right now he was incredibly disappointed in himself. How he had grown so blind to things was awful and he didn’t understand it. “I don’t want you hurt by Guy and I don’t want you hurt by Maggie. You deserve better than that. And I’ve let it go on for far too fucking long.”

“And you don’t care to elaborate?” she pushed for details, and it looked like he wanted to tell her. But he paused, his lips parting and he shook his head.

“I just want to take care of you the way you took care of me,” Negan admitted, reaching out to grab a firm hold of her knee to give it a squeeze. “You made my life better and you didn’t need to. I want to make your life better and I owe it to you. We share a daughter together. I don’t care if you’re not the person that gave birth to her. You’re the only mother Jordyn has ever known. And I want fucking better for you.”

“That’s very nice of you,” she started, her hand lowering to place it in over Negan’s. Giving it a tiny squeeze, she considered what he was offering her and she shook her head. “Right now? I want to give this a shot and see what happens with Guy. If I feel uncomfortable, I’ll let you know.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Negan exclaimed, his hand becoming tense beneath hers. “I don’t think Maggie is ever gonna let you come out on top. And I realize now that sounds fucking sexual, but you get what I’m saying.”

That was the Negan that she was used to. It felt like in the last few years Maggie had neutered the naughty, cheesy side of Negan that he once was. So to hear him talking like that again made her smirk. That was the kind of guy he was. Always turning everything sexual even if it was unintentional.

“I know that,” she agreed with Negan, her eyes locked on his when she gave him a weak smile. Even though things seemed more relaxed between them, she didn’t see this as a time to completely unleash her feelings about Maggie. “Did the two of you fight?”

“We…” Negan paused, clicking his tongue at the top of his mouth. This was where he could have lied to her, but there was no reason to. She was his friend. She was honest with him, so he should have been honest with her. “Yes. We fought. And I didn’t like the things she was saying and insinuating about me nor you.”

“Ah, so you finally discovered the side of Maggie you turned a blind eye to,” she mused sighing loudly. There was a time when she thought Maggie was a good person to and it hurt like hell when she realized she was wrong. Especially since she considered Maggie part of her family growing up. When she said that, Negan seemed extremely upset. His whole body language showed it and so did his big eyes. “I was wondering how long she could keep you blind to it.”

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Negan admitted, taking his time to consider everything that happened during his talk with Maggie. “She’s not the woman I convinced myself that I was in love with. Because I was dating her, I applied certain qualities to her that other people I loved had. And I’m not sure she has those qualities at all. Which fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, it hurts when you realize the people that you love aren’t who you thought they were,” she pulled her hand away and slid back further into the corner of the couch.

A loud exhale escaped Negan’s throat with his eyebrows scrunching up, “Fuck that surprisingly hurt. That was directed at me.”

“Was it?” she watched him slouch forward on the couch and he let out a tense breath. There was that chance it was directed at Maggie. Considering Maggie was her best friend. Someone that Y/N had grown up believing cared about her. But she knew better than that now. In reality though, it was directed at Negan. He was someone that she saw as perfect. Someone she admired and was head over heels in love with. How easily Negan picked up on the fact it was directed at him surprised her since he had been blind to things so long. “Who said I loved you?”

“You love me,” he spoke up, still keeping his head down. A chill flooded down her spine and she stayed silent. “And I love you. It’s a very pure love between us. I just never realized you were in love with me and that makes me a fucking moron.”

“So now I’m in love with you?” she realized that she sounded like a bitch right now, but she wasn’t denying it. What was the point in lying? She never did that with Negan. Sometimes she just didn’t tell him everything. And that made things easier. It helped her avoid lying to him about things.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Negan spoke faintly, his breathing growing louder when he finally gathered enough strength to look to her again. “I wish you would have told me.”

“Negan, I tried every way possible to let you know how I felt. I don’t know what else you expected me to do,” she cussed to herself realizing that she did just admit to him that she did indeed love him. Obviously, the first two years it was just a crush and a friendship. Something that she would never act upon since he was married. But after that? She couldn’t imagine that she didn’t do everything possible to let him know how she felt. She just never straight out said the words. “You just didn’t feel it back.”

“But that’s not true,” Negan corrected her with a firm shake of his head. “You were my favorite person to be around. Even before Lucille died. I looked forward to every fucking moment we spent together because I loved talking to you. There was no one I felt like I could completely be myself with when it came to you.”

“I would love to think all of that was true, but your actions and your words don’t coincide,” she declared, having a hard time not focusing on everything that went wrong in the last four years. “I thought you loved me, but you didn’t. There was something in the way you looked at me that last year when I was your student teacher and I think it’s like what you said. I was attributing certain factors to you because I loved you so much that I just wanted to believe you.”

“I’m not lying to you,” Negan seemed frustrated that she wasn’t listening to him in the way he wanted her to. “I loved spending time with you. Even before I lost Lucille. Think of all the hours outside of class we spent talking. It was inappropriate then, especially with the age gap between us. And I knew it, but I liked you so much.”

“You liked your ego being stroked,” she recalled what it was like in the time that they were talking back then. “Anyone with half a brain could see I had the biggest crush on you. And the fact you were giving me attention? I was so immature. I loved it.”

“Come on,” Negan grumbled under his breath, holding his hand out to try to get her to stare out at him. “You’re selling our relationship short. Even Lucille knew that we were close. And Lucille loved you. You know that. We both did.”

“Now that’s a different kind of love. Lucille looked at me like I was a kid and I feel like she latched onto me because she knew I had no one. The woman wanted to take me under her wing and it didn’t hurt that your daughter always had a comfort with me,” she thought back to the way things were with Lucille when she had been around her. “You’re talking about a love that is completely different than the one that we are talking about here.”

“I’ve always been very open with you about things,” Negan started, the lines in his forehead growing deeper as he spoke, “you know that I cheated on Lucille when we were together. It was so fucked up that I did. It’s not like I didn’t love her because I did. She was everything to me. But I was so arrogant and stupid…”

Negan had to take a moment to pause and he let out a scoff, “I hated the man that I was when I did that to Lucille. You know how hard we tried to have Jordyn. For so fucking long. She was our little miracle baby and once we had her? I felt like the luckiest man in the world. She was everything we fought so hard to have. I promised to never be that man again that hurt her.”

“Which is amazing. I know Lucille was the love of your life and I think she deserved that,” she didn’t understand where this was headed, but she could tell that talking about his late wife had Negan emotional. “Where is this going?”

“I’m trying to prove a point here,” Negan stressed to her, his body tensing up. “I never thought of cheating on my wife again. Because my life was perfect. But you? You’re the only person that made me consider it again. Maybe I did like the way you inflated my ego. And yeah, maybe I did know you had a crush on me back then.”

“Oh fuck off,” she laughed at what he just told her, standing up from the couch in disgust moving across the room to pace.

“Why do you never believe the shit that I say?” Negan snapped at her, a deep rumble of a growl escaping his throat. “You don’t remember that time that the two of us were sitting in the front row of my class with me sitting beside you?”

“We did that all the time,” she chuckled with him trying to draw forth some kind of memory between them that she didn’t think existed.

“You touched my hand and it was just innocent, but the way you touched me? It made me feel things that I shouldn’t have. I asked you that night if you had a boyfriend while stroking the back of your fucking hand because I was considering fucking you right then and there. Because you touching me made me…hard,” Negan continued on, finding his heart hammering inside of his chest with the way she stopped to stare down at him. “You made me feel good about myself with the way that you liked me and looked up to me. I loved spending time with you. But then I realized what an asshole I was and I left immediately. The next day I brought Lucille and Jordyn around so I could remind myself that things were perfect.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned away from him and couldn’t contain the amused sound that she made, “If that were fucking true, it’s been six years since Lucille died. You didn’t try to kiss me once. You never tried to have sex with me. You never even spoke of feeling that way toward me.”

“I’ve been thinking about that and maybe I shut that feeling down because of how I felt about you in that moment when Lucille was alive,” Negan reasoned, but sounded like he was trying to make sense of things himself. “You were the only person that ever made me think like that and…”

“I don’t…I don’t want to hear any more of it,” she cut him off from even going any further in that direction. “So having a relationship with me was bad because I gave you a boner by touching your hand when you were married?”

“Well now that you say it like that, yeah of fucking course it sounds stupid,” Negan stood up from the couch himself trying to appeal to her, but she held her hand out to stop him. “I don’t understand why you find that so fucking hard to believe.”

“Because it was Maggie your hard cock found its way into, not me!” she snapped at him causing him to swallow down hard with his expressive eyebrows furrowing. “It was Maggie you were showing up at my apartment for with my favorite fucking flowers. You shattered my fucking heart that day Negan. How do you not fucking see that? And then you kept fucking hurting me. Fucking Maggie with me in the apartment consistently forcing me to hear that shit? And then walking around naked all the time. How do you not realize that was you fucking tormenting me?”

A broken breath escaped Negan’s throat and he threw his hands up in the air trying to come up with something to say, but he was falling short, “You can say whatever you want, but your actions speak louder than your words. I would have done anything for you. And when you showed up at that fucking apartment that day, I thought it was me you were there for. I thought it was me you were coming to admit your feelings for and you were there for fucking Maggie. So feed me all the bullshit you want, but I know it’s not true.”

“I’m sorry,” Negan apologized, his voice broken with him shaking his head.

“For what? Liking someone else? Do you know how fucking pathetic I would have to be to expect you to apologize to me for loving Maggie?” she shook her head refusing to accept that apology. “You didn’t want me. And I wasn’t the person you liked spending the most time with because if I was? You wouldn’t have stopped doing it after you got with Maggie. We would have still been spending time together. Instead? We acted like divorced parents that hated each other only seeing each other here and there when I came to pick up Jordyn.”

Swallowing down hard, Negan lowered his head and it looked like there was a massive amount of guilt that was eating away at him, “I am the luckiest girl in the world because you allowed me to be in Jordyn’s life and I love that little girl like she is my own. And I will always treat her like she is because she means everything to me. Even when I feel like allowing this world to swallow me whole, I remember that I’m still here because I love her. She’s the thing that keeps me going every day. But I’m also the dumbest woman in the world because I’ve been in love with a man for eight years and he never felt the same way about me. Now he’s feeding me some kind of bullshit because he feels guilty about the way he treated me.”

“I wasn’t thinking right, okay?” Negan finally spoke, his eyes damp and his voice rasp when he dropped his hands down at his hips. “I had lost Lucille and I was a fucking mess. I hadn’t been with anyone since Lucille and when Maggie started throwing herself at me…”

Dramatically dropping her head back, she released an amused laugh. It seemed to infuriate Negan when she headed over back to her side of the couch to drop down on top of it, “If you would have made your move, it would have been you that I fell for. But it was Maggie that was laying it on thick. It was Maggie that kissed me first. It was Maggie that…”

“Fucked you purposely on the couch in our living room knowing that I would be coming home? Yeah. You’re right,” she blurt out, frustration flooding her veins when she just let that information drop. “You know she promised me that night when you came here with the flowers that she wouldn’t let it go any further. When I walked in on the two of you having sex, it was a real fucking shock.”

“Then why remain loyal to her this whole fucking time?” Negan hissed, throwing his hand up in the air with the vein at the side of his neck bulging. “You should have fucking told me the kind of person that she was! I didn’t know who she was.”

“You know what the better question is?” she stood up from the couch, stepping before him to shove into the center of his chest to get him to stumble back giving her a shocked expression. “Why the fuck did I put up with you the whole time? Maggie, I have an excuse. Maggie’s father asked me to watch over her and keep her safe because he was worried his daughter would fail at life. But you? You’re the one that fucked Maggie. It wasn’t my responsibility to let you know the person she was.”

“No, you just waited four years to tell me,” Negan scoffed in response, his nose wrinkling with a firm shake of his head.

“You know what? I’ll give you the floor,” she dramatically waved her hands about, drawing his breathing to grow louder. “Why don’t you tell me what it is that Maggie did to have you be a pathetic fucking puppy dog toward her with those flowers. What was it Maggie did that had you fucking her in my apartment? And what made you think it wouldn’t hurt me? Because if I had a crush on you and you knew it in those first two years, why wouldn’t I have it when you fucked Maggie?”

“There was nothing to love with me. I was a mess. You saw me at my absolute worst. You had to take care of my daughter when I couldn’t. I was a fucking mess, why would you ever want to love someone like me when you had to endure the kind of person I was?” Negan countered visibly upset, but she uncomfortably scoffed under her breath.

“Because I loved you,” she sighed, her chest aching at the thought. “You made a promise to Lucille that you would live life for her because she couldn’t and you had a beautiful daughter. I wasn’t going to allow you to break that promise and I wasn’t going to let something happen to you or Jordyn because you lost the person you loved more than anything. It wasn’t fair that the world took Lucille away from you, so I understood why you were the way you were. Which is obviously me answering my own question as to why I put up with you for so long. That and because I love your daughter.”

“You love her, but not me?” Negan didn’t like what he was hearing causing her to shake her head again in frustration.

“You want to hear that I love you for what reason Negan? So it makes you feel better again and I’ll be that one person that makes you consider cheating again? Yeah Negan, I love you too because I’m a very pathetic girl,” she confessed placing her hand in over the center of her chest. “So why don’t you tell me what it was that Maggie did to make you want her and not me? When did she kiss you and you realized that you wanted to be with her? What did she do to make you have sex with her in the home she shared with me? Maybe I can take some pointers for the next man I fall in love with. That way I don’t lose out and make the same mistake I made last time.”

“Stop,” Negan requested, his jaw flexing with them obviously emotional from this discussion. “You can’t be mad at me for not making the first move. I didn’t make the first move with Maggie either. I didn’t do anything wrong. You’re acting like you were honest with me about things and you weren’t. If you would have said something…”

“I know men are stupid Negan, but come on…” she frowned, giving a glare before moving back to drop down on the couch again finding herself exhausted with this conversation. “This whole I never made the first move thing is bullshit.”

“I feel like I owe you this massive apology, but…” Negan’s hand was shaking when he pointed toward himself, but she held her hand up to silence him. An apology was not something that she wanted from Negan.

Unhurriedly Negan moved back to his spot on the couch and dropped down. Sliding down on the couch, the two of them sat there together in silence for a while. It took a while for her heart to calm down with how hard it was pounding with the adrenaline rush this whole thing gave her.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Negan finally broke the silence, his breathing growing louder. After their fight, his chest hurt fucking bad and he knew that was the guilt of everything. “Ever since we talked the night at the event, I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re all I think about.”

“It was the tits,” she spoke quietly making Negan snort and then start to laugh. Looking to her, they both laughed at how bluntly she said it. He thought she was joking, but she was being serious in a cheeky way. “I promise you Negan, it was nothing more than that. I cover them up most of the time, I finally let them out and it has both you and Guy Vixen foaming at the mouth.”

“It’s not your tits,” Negan forced his laugh down, trying to look away from her since this was a serious moment that he was trying to approach. “Yes, you have nice breasts, but what happened earlier at the store…”

“Was a mistake,” she finished his sentence, reaching out to grab at Negan’s arm to get him to look at her. “You were emotional, you were trying to make me feel better. I was at that event. Everyone that came up to you stressed to me how much you loved Maggie. I never heard the end of it. If I was Maggie? I would have fallen in love with you so much more hearing how much you loved me. Unfortunately, I’m me. And it was her these things were about. Not me.”

“Yeah, but I’m starting to think that I don’t even know the real Maggie,” Negan declared, visible confusion flooding into his features with his admission. “And I’m not even sure I fucking know who I am. So there is that.”

“I don’t know what to say to that Negan,” she professed, her heart sinking at what he said knowing that a while ago she would have loved to hear that. “Nothing I say to that is going to make this situation any better.”

“Why…” Negan began, scoffing to himself knowing that this would likely go nowhere. “Why didn’t you try to kiss me though? If you would have kissed me before Maggie did, I know things would have worked themselves out between us.”

“Because I was worried that after Lucille passed away it would have been wrong for me to kiss you because it would have been me putting a nail in the friendship I had with her,” she had thought for a moment what to say, but when she did say this it was so emotionless that it had Negan looking her with an arch of his eyebrow.

“You’re mocking me,” Negan recognized that she was using the thing he said earlier against him.

“Little bit,” she tipped her head to the side understanding that it wasn’t the nicest of things to do in the moment. Even with her smart ass attitude, he was still waiting for an answer. “I don’t know Negan. Why didn’t you just kiss me?”

“In my mind I had to be thinking I was your professor,” Negan kept up with that defense provoking her to groan loudly. “It would have been a conflict of interests and I could have gotten in trouble.”

“Maybe I just wanted to know that I was worth the risk,” she suggested, rubbing her hands out over her thighs hating that they were bickering about the past again. “It’s nice to play a game of what if Negan, but you really fell in love with Maggie. She was what you wanted.”

“I think I fell in love with Maggie’s version of you,” Negan countered, drawing her to give him a look that showed she had no idea what he was saying. “Maggie listened to you talk about me for four years. She knew what you told her about me. She knew what I liked. She listened to someone who loved me talk about me. And she kissed me first. Like a typical fucking male, I thought with my dick. And I continued to let my dick think things out for way too long.”

“What does it matter now?” she truly wondered, a tense laugh escaping her throat. This was all nice to hear, but it didn’t change shit and it sure as hell didn’t make things better. “It doesn’t change what happened.”

“What we did together in that dressing room…” Negan focused on what happened earlier at the store with her trying on the dress. It was something she wanted to avoid talking about, but he was still locked in on it.

“We didn’t even kiss Negan. It was a moment of tension that will never happen again,” she promised him, swallowing down hard. Truthfully? When she closed her eyes she could still picture the way everything felt. “If we kissed, then maybe, but we didn’t.”

Thinking about what she said, Negan slid in toward the middle couch cushion and bit down on his bottom lip, “Then maybe we should kiss once. We never kissed. I don’t know how I would feel if I kissed you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she alerted him with a long exhale realizing that she was already hooked on Negan. The last thing she needed right now was something else like that. Something that would pull her further into him. Especially when he could never be hers. “It’s only going to complicate things more.”

“But maybe when we kiss we will realize that there is nothing there,” Negan thought aloud, shrugging his shoulders simply. “It could be for the best. That way we really know and don’t have to lay awake at night wondering about the what ifs.”

“Negan…” she whispered his name, her throat going dry with him pressing in closer to her. After the way they had been bickering, she couldn’t see this working itself out.

“Please?” Negan begged of her, his hand lifting to sweep his fingers in over the side of her face. For so long this was the kind of attention she wanted from Negan, but in the moment she knew that it felt wrong. Yet she didn’t push him away. Just his touch alone had her eyes fluttering to a close. Having the roughness of his fingertips caressing at her skin had her breath hitching in her throat. Palming down over the side of her face, Negan allowed his thumb to drag faintly across her bottom lip. The slightest of whimpers escaped her throat eliciting a chill to flood his body. It was so quiet, but since the room was too it was easy to hear. He hadn’t even kissed her yet and he had her trembling before him. It took his breath away. Pressing in closer, Negan closed the distance between them. The warmth of his breath lingered over her and he was keen to pay attention to her reactions. Considering what he was putting on the line, he wanted to pay special attention in the moment. Sweeping his fingers down over her jawline toward her neck, Negan captured her jaw between his thumb and index finger. It had her lips parting with her breathing growing broken. Part of him wondered if she would stop him from doing this, but she hadn’t. And he was thankful for that. Faintly brushing his lips over hers, he took his time to allow her the chance to refuse. Their lips barely touched. It was when his eyes closed that he finally brought their lips together in a passionate sweep. It was one that lingered, innocent at first. Her hand settled at the center of his chest with her fingers stretching upward. Gradually the kiss grew stronger. It was just supposed to be one simple kiss, but with her lips parting he took advantage by brushing his tongue delicately against hers. One kiss turned to many with her fingers curling loosely around the back of his neck. Pressing a final kiss at her bottom lip left them both breathless. Lazily, his eyes fluttered to an open with them still so close to one another. “How do you feel?”

His eyes were locked on her, enamored with the way she responded to him kissing her. Slowly her eyes opened, her pupils dilated showing that the kiss had undoubtedly had its effects on her, “I don’t know,” she knew she couldn’t say what she truly felt. With him still touching her face, it wasn’t helping. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Then maybe we should do it again,” Negan commented with his thumb stroking down over the soft fleshy part of her throat. Stealing another fervent kiss from her lips, Negan brought them close together. One kiss turned to another with their breathing growing broken and labored. This time when Negan’s tongue swept against hers, she eagerly returned the gesture. Everything about this was intoxicating having her desperately wanting more from him.

“Shit,” she stood up from the couch, panting when she pulled away from Negan’s kisses. Moving toward the corner of the room gave her that chance to put some distance between them. It felt like everything was spinning with how intense things started to get between them. Finally looking to him again, she gave him a nod, but it was hard looking him in the eye. “Well we kissed and I think we can both agree that you should probably be headed home.”

Taking a moment to think about what she was saying, Negan gave her a single nod. Getting up from the couch, he approached her and felt his heartbeat leaping in his chest, “I guess we’ll talk again soon?”

“Sure,” she realized that he was going to hug her goodbye and she allowed him that. Squeezing her firmly in his arms, Negan buried his head against the side of her neck and sighed loudly. Chills flooded down her spine and she tried to keep her head on straight.

“I’ll just go then…” Negan spoke, leaning back ever so slightly to look down upon her. “If that’s what you want from me.”

Staying silent, she knew it was for the best. Kissing him was addicting and she didn’t want to stop. With a wicked smirk, Negan stepped back acting as if he was going to leave. Reaching for his wrist had him chuckling. Cupping his face in her hands, she hungrily pulled him back to her having his lips crashing down upon hers. The force of him stepping forward had her back pressing against the wall. Dropping his hands, he caressed them in over her hips giving them a firm squeeze. Kiss after kiss took her breath away, her body growing limp with her falling in against his chest.

Gasping out, she felt Negan’s hands palming down over the backs of her thighs. Hooking his arms under her knees, he lifted her up from the ground and braced her weight against the wall. Closing the distance between them had her heart hammering inside of her chest. Every part of her felt like it was on fire with Negan’s lips upon hers once more. Kissing her with all the passion and desire that had been building up between them over the last few days.

Wincing, she tipped her head back when Negan’s kisses tampered off down over her chin and across her jawline. Sinking her fingers into his messy, dark hair she knew that she should have let him leave but this all felt way too good to let go of. For years she longed for this kind of interaction and now that she was getting it she felt like she was drunk off his kisses.

His mouth left a hot, wet trail against the side of her neck when he eagerly returned to meet her lips in a fiery kiss. What started off innocent was growing into something hungry and passionate. Something that she never thought existed between the two of them. How easily Negan took her breath away was scary. Negan held her in the palm of his hand and she knew it. An involuntary moan escaped her lips with the sensation of Negan’s hips lightly bucking up against hers. In return he rewarded her with a throaty moan. Tipping his head back, his eyelids were heavy as he tried to make sure that she was comfortable with where this was going. Another roll of his hips had her head tipping back. Repeatedly, his hips bucked up against hers with his mouth stealing kiss after kiss from her lips.

“Fuck,” Negan hissed at the liquid warmth that was flooding his body. Sucking at her bottom lip had her mewling out and he pressed his forehead to hers. Every part of him felt like it was on fire. The way she caressed at the back of his neck had chills running down his spine. Carefully bringing her in against his chest, Negan turned on his heel taking his time to carry her over toward the couch. Dropping down on top of it, Negan fell in over her but made sure to brace his weight so he didn’t hurt her. Hovering his lips in over hers had her caressing down over the side of his neck toward the center of his chest. A smile tugged at his lips hearing the anxious sound that she made with him over her. “Don’t be nervous.”

Lowering himself between her thighs, Negan kept his weight braced on his right arm while his left caressed down over the side of her body and up again. Teasing his lips just over hers, Negan’s eyelids grew heavy when the warmth of her mouth radiated against his. It had her purring out and it sent a chill right through his body. There was a rush flooding his veins. This wasn’t where he expected the kiss to go, but here they were.

Feather like kisses pressed over her lips with him taking his time to get comfortable with her. With each kiss, the passion and hunger grew with them exploring each other. Making out with Negan on the couch was not something she expected and she was surprised they let it get this far. But right now she was feeling butterflies in her stomach. Having him pampering her with kisses was addictive and it was hard to pull herself away from it. There was an electricity between them that both of them could feel the longer they kissed.

Grunting, Negan lowered his head to look down with him hooking his arm underneath her knee. Getting her to loosely wrap her leg around his waist drew out the most delicious moan from his lips and it had her panting. Palming down over the side of his face had Negan leaning into her touch, his lips parting and his eyes coming to a tight close.

By the time his long eyelashes fluttered to an open, she felt lost in him. The way he stared down at her showed a sense of affection. Licking his lips, Negan dragged his thumb across her bottom lip and sighed. Kissing at the pad of his thumb had a tiny smile tugging at his handsome features, “You are so beautiful.”

Nuzzling his nose in against hers showed tenderness in the way he was desperate to be near. Stroking down over the side of his neck, she liked listening to the way that he was breathing. At this moment? They were just taking the time to cherish the warmth of their bodies near. Hooking her fingers into his messy hair, she caressed at his scalp and liked the tiny kisses that he was pressing at the side of her face. A lump grew in her throat with the feeling of Negan caressing down in over her thigh and then up over her side. Having her arch up into him like she did only made him smile further.

“Do you trust me?” Negan slurred, kissing softly at her bottom lip allowing it to linger in that moment.

Maybe she should have said no, but instead she just nodded. Adjusting his weight made her panic when he got on his knees above her. Reaching for the bottom of his shirt, Negan took his time pulling it up the lengths of his abdomen. Getting it over his head, he dropped it beside the couch on the floor. How she looked at him fueled him. Maggie had never looked at him like that. Reaching for her hands, Negan brought them toward his torso urging her to touch him. Tension was evident in her body, but it was from her being nervous. Flattening her palms against the center of Negan’s abdomen, she did as he wanted. Sliding her hands up his slender torso toward his chest and then down again. Just touching him had Negan sucking in a sharp breath of air, tipping his head back and pressing in closer to her. Teasing her fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered his flesh had a thick rumble of a sound falling from his throat. Forcing himself to watch her, Negan could see the awe in her eyes. Instead of rushing things, she learned the lines of his body. Learning what he liked while also enjoying the moment herself.

Lifting up, her eyes stayed locked with his at first when she started to pepper affectionate kisses at the center of his torso. Every caress of her lips over his flesh was delicate with her still touching him. His heartrate was undoubtedly high with him curling his fingers around the back of her neck. Lowering her stare, she kissed at the lines over his hips following the v-line toward the top of his pants. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan sighed loudly. It felt good having someone pampering him and admiring him like this.

Dropping his hands down, his fingers tugged at the material of her shirt getting it partially up her body. Stopping at the area right under her arms, he gave her a tip of his head when she looked up at him. Lifting her arms allowed him to pull it from her body and drop her shirt along with his. Underneath she was not wearing a bra and he knew that. Hell, he watched her change. The way her breasts bounced with the movement made him groan.

Motioning her to lay back again, Negan laid in over her permitting the warmth of their bodies to press together. That alone felt better than he could have ever imagined. It had her frozen beneath him with him dragging his bottom lip over hers. Lazily dragging his lips over her top lip had her purring out and he loved it. They should have said more, but they didn’t. The roughness of Negan’s fingertips caressed down over her side and it felt like her heart was going to pound out of her chest. After a while Negan’s fingers dragged down further, teasing in over the waistband of her pajama pants. Locking his eyes with hers, Negan pushed at the material having her a tremoring mess beneath him.

“It’s okay,” he hushed her, lifting his hips enough to get the material of her pajama pants tugged down to her thighs. With them getting locked up there, he balanced his weight enough for him to use one of his hands to get them pushed even further down her legs. Laying back in over her, Negan reached behind him to push at his pajama pants getting them down over his ass toward his thighs. Swallowing down hard, Negan’s muscles tensed with the sensation of their bodies pressed together. The way she shuddered had him breathless with his fingers tracing down over the side of her face. “You take my breath away.”

Attempting to look between them, Negan stopped her by curling his finger in underneath her chin. Hushing her, he urged her to tip her head back against the pillow, “Keep your eyes on mine. I don’t want you looking anywhere else.”

Every part of her felt like it was on fire with the warmth of his naked body lying in over her. This felt more passionate and sincere in the moment. Less sexual even though the two of them were both naked. There was a vulnerability between the both of them that Negan was enchanted by.

“No one looks at me the way you do,” Negan whispered, starting to pepper kisses against her bottom lip. How he had been blind to it this whole time was something he couldn’t wrap his mind around. “I should have seen it all along.”

Closing her eyes when Negan’s kisses tampered off over the side of her neck had it feeling like the room was spinning around them. Quiet whispers surrounded her with Negan praising her, saying all the things that someone would want to hear. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she buried her nose against the side of his neck.

Turning his head, Negan brought their lips back together. Reaching for one of her arms, he lowered it down on the couch with his fingers hooking firmly with hers. Truthfully they could have spent an eternity like that, just kissing with them pressed up against one another.

“Do you still want me?” Negan wondered, his words vibrating against her flesh having her whimper at the feeling of it. His fingers squeezed firmly with hers and he wanted her to answer honestly. “After everything, is there a chance that you still want to be with me?”

“I don’t know,” she spoke quietly, unsure of how she was feeling or how things were. More than anything she wanted Negan, but she didn’t know how it would work. “I know how you make me feel.”

“How do I make you feel?” Negan wanted to hear her answer, wetting his lips. There was desperation in her eyes with his mouth hanging just in over hers.

“Like my heart is beating wildly yet capable of stopping at the same time,” she stammered drawing him to smile with a tiny nod. That probably sounded stupid and she knew it. “No one makes me feel like you do.”

“Okay,” Negan licked his lips adjusting his body over hers and releasing her hand. “That’s all I need to know.”

Wiggling his hips a bit more got the material of his pants down to the bottom of his thighs. Dragging his hand down over her side toward her ribcage and then over her breast had her panting. Circling her nipple with his thumb, he worked to bring it to a hard bud and growled.

“Do you have any condoms?” Negan questioned and it had her shaking beneath him. There was a sense of shock in her eyes with his eyebrows bouncing up.

“I…I don’t,” she responded, her head tipping back with Negan’s thumb tracing over her jawline, down over the length of her neck and toward her collarbone. “I don’t really have time to bring men back here for sex.”

“We can work with that,” Negan slurred, reaching down between them, his raspy moan following when she assumed that he was touching himself. Nuzzling his nose in against hers, he adjusted himself over her. Curling his arm around her waist, he brought her closer to him and it had the warmth of his body near hers. Licking his lips, he reached between them again to curl his fingers around the base of his cock. Teasing the swollen tip over the length of her sex had her cooing out. Dragging a line down her body with the tip and then up toward her clit had her bouncing up toward him. “You are so fucking perfect.”

Repeatedly he teased her with the same motion, until he brought his fingertips up toward his lips. Licking at them, he lowered them down again touching himself. By the time a bit of pressure was being pushed at her entrance, she heard the sound of what she thought was another knock at her door. Closing her eyes, she assumed that it was just her mind letting things stir with the thick tip of Negan’s cock prodding at her warmth.

“Look at me,” he demanded and she obeyed. His lips hovered over hers with him working just the tip through the tight ring of muscle having the both of them moan in unison. Pulling out had her whimpering before he repeated the same movement causing them both to be a panting mess. Another knock at the door drew both of their attention this time with Negan looking to the door. “Just ignore it. It’s late.”

Nodding her head, she winced when he got just a bit more inside of her this time. He was starting off small, getting her used to him. Pressing her hand against his lower abdomen had him swallowing down hard. Even though he knew better, there was a sense of innocence to her. Lifting, she watched him pull his hips back letting her gaze upon his rigid manhood that took her breath away. Again, the way she looked at him turned him on more than he could have ever imagined. She did stare at him with awe and affection. In her eyes? He was perfection and he could see that. Cuddling in close to her, Negan got comfortable between her thighs and helped lead the tip back to her ready opening. Pushing forward had her crying out and he nipped at her chin. At this point it was only the tip that had entered her a few times but knowing that it was Negan had her body craving so much more.

“You feel so good,” Negan slurred, doing his best to brace himself pushing his hips just a bit more forward. This time allowing his body to enter hers further. Dropping her head back, she cried out with Negan kissing down over the side of her neck. There was a stretching sensation with her body parting to his girthy length. “So wet and tight…”

And there it was again, the returning knock, “I’m going to kill myself if that’s Maggie.”

“It can’t be Maggie, the alert didn’t go off on my phone,” Negan breathed against the side of her neck having a sense of realization flood through her mind. Firmly bracing her hand over the center of Negan’s abdomen, she pulled her hips up and away from him having him moaning out. “Did I hurt you? We didn’t even get half of it in yet.”

“You’re still with Maggie,” she reminded him having a flood of guilt rushing through her veins. By his expression, she could tell in that moment the only person that mattered to was her. Working her pants back up over her body, she knew that every part of her was screaming at her to continue, but she couldn’t let that go. “You’re still with Maggie and we just started to have sex.”

“Barely,” Negan stammered, his chest rising and falling heavily with his unsteady breathing. Grunting, Negan looked down to see his cock twitch with the ache that it had with not being allowed to continue. “I think I want to leave Maggie. I want to be with you…”

“You don’t know that,” she frowned, standing up from the couch leaving him to fall back against it. Dragging his hands down over the front of his face, Negan groaned and she wished he would have pulled his pants back up. Seeing him laid stretched out on her couch almost completely naked with a raging hard on was not helping the situation. “I should have never let things get that far. It makes me just as bad as her if not worse. You’re hers. And I would have had sex with you, I started to…”

Wincing, Negan reached down to squeeze at his rigid length and lifted his head to look at it. Growling, he reached for his pants and arched his hips to pull them up over his body which she was thankful for, “Maggie is in your home right now. Sleeping in your bed and I’m here with you…”

“I don’t like the way I feel when I’m with Maggie,” Negan explained to her, the muscle in his jaw flexing when he brushed his fingers throughout his hair shakily. “I like the way I feel when I’m with you. The way you look at me, the way you touch me…the electricity between us…”

“The other day people were coming up to me talking about how much you loved Maggie. How can you change your opinion of her in two days?” she had a hard time believing that with her reaching down to grab her shirt to pull it back on.

“Because my eyes were opened to how things really are. I was blind to things,” Negan stood up from the couch, attempting to approach her, but she held up her hands to stop him from coming near. With how her body felt? She knew that she needed to keep some distance between the two of them. “Please, okay? All I think about is you.”

“You’re still with Maggie,” she stressed to Negan the words that hurt, but were still so undeniably true. Right now that didn’t seem to bother Negan, but she knew eventually it would. “You’re hers. And she is yours. This? What we’re doing. It’s wrong.”

“How could it be fucking wrong when we both want it?” Negan wondered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “Isn’t this what you want? What you’ve always wanted?”

“To have an affair with you while you’re still with Maggie?” she snorted, causing Negan to frown and fold his arms out in front of his chest. “There are some things that need to be worked out before we could ever be something. You were very anti cheating and now…”

“I just…” Negan started only to hear the knocking turn to rapid, continuous hits that was having the door shaking. “What the fuck?”

Heading for the door, Negan reached for the knob and pulled it open angrily, “Whatever the fuck you want I promise we don’t want it…”

It was in that moment Negan came face to face with Daryl who was holding a few bags in his hands staring out at Negan with his cold, blue eyed stare. They both knew each other and they knew each other well. Especially since they were both a big part of Y/N’s life. And neither one liked each other all that much.

“Daryl,” she breathed out his name with a shirtless Negan standing before him at the door. Looking to the clock on the wall, she shook her head and sighed. Why was everyone suddenly showing up so damn late? “What are you doing here?”

“I figured you didn’t eat since you weren’t texting me back,” Daryl lifted the bags that he was holding giving them a small wiggle. “Since neither of us sleep much, I figured I would stop by like you did the other night and bring you something to eat.”

“At three in the morning?” Negan scoffed with Daryl pushing through into the apartment toward the kitchen area. There wasn’t a care in the world that Daryl had right now interrupting the two of them. And he was making that clear. Which infuriated Negan who stood at the door tense as can be. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something here.”

“Were you?” Daryl simply asked looking between the two of them. Setting some of the things out on her counter, Daryl brought his fingers up to his lips to suck at them. Shrugging his shoulders, he took note of the fact that Negan was half naked. But he didn’t say anything. Just acted like everything was completely normal. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have a child at home? Jordyn is too young to be left alone.”

“Maggie is there,” Negan answered with Daryl smirking and moving back around the counter toward them in the living room.

“Like I said, leaving her alone isn’t smart,” Daryl gazed upon Negan who was still breathing loudly, his eyes locking with Y/N who was standing a good distance away from the both of them trying to catch her breath. Bringing his attention back to Negan, Daryl circled his finger around Negan’s torso area. “What happened to your shirt?”

“I lost it,” Negan snorted with a roll of his eyes heading over toward his shirt that was still on the floor. Snatching it, Negan haphazardly tugged it back on. Displeasure flooded Negan’s features with his hands settling in at his hips. By his body language, he was angry and he wasn’t hiding it.

“Do you need something cold for that?” Daryl slurred getting Negan’s eyebrows to furrow and his head to tip to the side. Pointing toward the evident tent in Negan’s pajama pants had red flooding into Negan’s face. Reaching for the pillow that was on the couch, Negan placed it in front of himself. “Don’t you have to leave?”

“Daryl,” she snapped at her friend causing him to dramatically shrug and move back toward the kitchen. Daryl was going out of his way to be a shit to get Negan even more upset about things.

“He’s right,” Negan swallowed down hard looking upon her with a saddened expression. “I shouldn’t have left Jordyn alone. But the two of us need to talk. About…us…”

“Sounds serious,” Daryl spoke up with a mouthful of something getting an immediate glare from Negan having Negan’s dimples becoming extremely prominent. It looked like Negan wanted to kill Daryl in that moment. Daryl was playing oblivious to things, but she knew he was just doing it to be an ass to get under Negan’s skin.

“Daryl!” she repeated his name with Daryl throwing his hands up in the air again.

“We’ll talk later,” Negan stepped forward, lowering down to press a quick kiss against the side of her face. Even him doing that felt wrong. There was a sense of affection in the way that he kissed her face that shouldn’t have been there if he was with Maggie. “I’m sorry.”

“It was nice seeing you,” Daryl called out, wiggling his fingers about. It had Negan stopping and looking back over his shoulder at Daryl with his cold hazel eyed stare. By now? She was surprised Daryl hadn’t started a fight. Tossing the pillow back onto the couch, Negan reached for his boots and stumbled to pull them back on. By the time he got his jacket on, Negan headed for the door, but stopped. It looked like he was considering saying something else, but he just shook his head and left, leaving her alone with Daryl. Once she knew they were finally alone, she looked to Daryl shooting him a glare herself with the way he acted. “What?! I was being nice!”

Heading over toward the couch, she dropped down on top of it and buried her head into her hand, “Personally? I think you should be thanking me. Cus I stopped whatever sex the two of you were about to have. And you would have regretted it if I didn’t.”

“I know,” she agreed with Daryl who looked surprised when he dropped down on the couch beside her. “You’re absolutely right.”

“I am?” Daryl replied showing her that he didn’t even think she would agree with his comment. “You’re not angry?”

“At myself. Not you,” she confessed, her breathing still uneven with her body aching in the worst of ways. Huffing out, she felt Daryl’s hand placing in over her head and she gave him an awkward glance. “What the hell?”

“Just making sure you don’t have a fever or nothin’,” Daryl explained, pulling his hand back and rubbing at his thighs. “Since I just stopped you from having sex with the man of your dreams. He was walking around with a raging boner. I thought you’d be furious.”

“I’m not,” there was a warmth that flooded into her face with how embarrassed she was over this whole thing. Right now she was upset and it was probably a good thing that Daryl showed up, but she didn’t really want to admit what happened or talk to Daryl about it. “It shouldn’t have happened anyways.”

“You okay?” Daryl’s nose wrinkled, scoffing in the process. “I really thought you’d be throwing things at me.”

“Daryl…” she repeated his name, forcing herself to look away from him. Truthfully? Her body was screaming. More than anything it wanted Negan, it wanted to keep having sex with Negan. But her mind kept thinking about Maggie. Maggie went after Negan knowing that she was head over heels in love with him, but Negan wasn’t dating her. She started having sex with Negan knowing that he was dating Maggie. And she was furious with Maggie for cheating on Negan with Guy. “I don’t know why I let things get that far.”

“Cus you were always obsessed with that asshole,” Daryl scoffed, getting comfortable and stretching out his legs while he sat beside her on the couch. “The guy smiles and he just has you in the palm of his hand.”

“It’s a little more than that,” she reasoned with her friend, standing up from the couch and feeling her legs tremoring beneath her. Moving over toward the kitchen area, she grabbed herself a water. Looking out, she could see that Daryl’s head was turned watching her.

“Was it everything you ever hoped for?” Daryl felt like he was mocking her in that moment, but she couldn’t blame him. “Was his cock glorious and the moment you knew that he wanted to fuck you, you just creamed your panties.”

“Christ,” she muttered after taking a long sip of the water that she grabbed herself. Looking at the bags, she tipped her head to the side when she saw one of the things that was in them. Pulling out the box, she lifted it and saw Daryl grimace once he realized she grabbed the box of condoms that were there. “What were you planning?”

“I was horny and thought you might be again,” Daryl got up from the couch, shoving his hands into his pockets. Giving her a shrug, he bit down on his bottom lip and moved closer to the kitchen area of her apartment. After she tossed the box on the counter, he assumed that she wouldn’t be interested in that at all tonight. “Guess I was right.”

Bracing his hand on the counter, Daryl noticed the silence that was between them and cleared his throat. Heading over toward the corner of the kitchen, she rest herself back against it and she looked disappointed in herself.

“I really wanted him to have a small penis,” Daryl blurt out provoking her to spit out her water after she had taken another sip of it. Involuntarily she laughed with how dramatically Daryl said that. “All that arrogance and being blessed with a big dick. It’s not right.”

“What are you complaining about? It’s not like you are a lacking. At all,” she reminded Daryl who simply tipped his head from side to side. “And it’s not about dick size with Negan. I wouldn’t have cared what size it was.”

“You’d be disappointed if he had a baby penis,” Daryl insisted, leaning forward eliciting another laugh from her again. “I’m right. You know that.”

“Can we talk about something other than Negan and his penis?” she asked of Daryl having him shrug dramatically and then reach for the bag of food that he brought for them to start opening it up. “Thank you for coming over with food.”

“Well, someone has to feed you,” Daryl pointed out, dropping what looked to be noodles into his mouth and chewing loudly. Gazing around her apartment, Daryl grunted noticing that she had gone a bit overboard with the decorations. “You’re barely home. Why do you have so many lights?”

“It helps relax me,” she suggested, liking the setting that it gave her apartment. It felt more magical than just being the bare, plain apartment that she was used to.

“Being here reminds me we don’t spend a lotta time at your apartment,” Daryl swallowed down what he had in his mouth and turned to face her again. Through the years they knew each other, it was mostly his place that they were always at. Unless she had Jordyn, then it would be occasionally spent at her place. “Why is that?”

“Because I want to escape my life most of the time,” she noted, setting her water bottle down and moving across the room to the side of the counter opposite of him. “Being at your apartment gives me a different environment.”

“So…” Daryl went to reach for more of the noodles and she swatted at his hand. Grabbing a fork, she handed it over to him making him roll his eyes. Using the fork like she wanted of him, he tipped his head back and dramatically ate the mouthful of food that he grabbed. “Do you wanna go back to my apartment and have sex?”

“Daryl!” she raised her voice with his blue eyes getting big like he didn’t understand where all the excitement was coming from. “I don’t think I should be having sex right now. My body needs to chill out. And I would love to relax instead with you. We can eat, sit down and watch some movies.”

“Boring,” Daryl frowned with her reaching out to shove into his shoulder. A muted laugh escaped him as he moved around the counter to get himself a plate from her cabinets and one for her as well. “I can do that. As long as I get to pick the movie. I ain’t watching no romance films. Or any of those cheesy Christmas movies.”

“Deal,” she agreed, thankful that Daryl was there, but was still ill at ease.

Part of her wondered if Daryl was more upset with her than he was allowing her to see. Truthfully? She told him about what happened at work and how she was tired, but she left out the Negan parts. And she felt like there was a reason for that. Now he knew something was going on between her and Negan. Yet he was more so joking about it. Daryl and her had always been friends. Well, a little bit more than friends, but nothing beyond that.

Right now she didn’t want to overthink things though. Daryl seemed fine and after all the stress she had been dealing with over the last few days, she just wanted to relax. Spending the rest of her night hanging out with Daryl watching movies sounded better than anything else she could have considered. And that was the honest truth. Really she just needed time to let her emotions die down so she could think clearly. Before she fucked her life up completely and became someone she hardly even knew.

----

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