#actually this is so telling of their lack of people that actually enjoy their company aside from each other it makes me wanna cry a little | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nouvxllev · 6 months

Note

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

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

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

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xokohaneazusawa · 3 months

Note

hello i have a bllk request!

so uh today i got hit in the face during PE with a football (we were playing football for PE and i was daydreaming about bllk boys 💀) and i wasn’t paying attention and got hit in the face and got a small cut on my nose 💀.

yet all i could think about was how my favourite characters would be laughing their asses off at me/judging me and the amount that would genuinely be concerned was a bit tragic. 💀

which led me to think of this potential fic idea. inexperienced reader who has probably touched a ball less than 10 times in her life, whose class is required to do football for PE (as much as i love bllk, i could never enjoy playing football myself.)

so anyways, her bf (chigiri, rin, nagi, bachira, isagi, reo, and sae) sees her get hit in the face and is ready to laugh at her, but starts lagging when they see blood. (sweet infirmary scene maybe 😍😍)

reader is absolute dog shit at football due to a lack of experience, compared to him, who’s on the mf school team. (hence why they were in different teams.)

overall i’m just feeling a little mortified over the little accident and i think it’s gonna scar 💀 but watching other ppl, even fictional, suffer with me just makes me feel better lmao. it’s fine if you don’t wanna take this request or shorten the list of characters tho 🫶🫶

(my injured nose hurts as i’m typing this 😭😭)

OMG It’s been a couple days so I hope your nose starts feeling better!! But you're so iconic for thinking about Bllk boys when you’re supposed to be doing something else- Also Anon if you want me to go more into detail about some of the like infirmary and nurse scenes just lmk and I can totally make a part 2 and go into more detail!

Chigiri Hyoma -> Sadly this man did actually laugh at you, but then when he came over to check on you and realized there was actually blood he got a little nervous and did actually take you over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else people call it -> Though when he brought you and the nurse said he was fine to go back he almost fought the person working in the nurse's office and they let him stay and keep you company -> He stayed by your side almost the whole time and did make fun of you a little bit, I mean it was a little stupid (HIS WORDS NOT MINE, I've had the same thing happen just with no blood) though he does kinda feel bad that it was somebody on his team that did it, though he won't ever tell you that -> He does eventually, after you stop bleeding, scold you a little for not paying attention, even though you don't know how to play you should at least be paying attention, though if you ask ever so nicely (aka he also hits too it) he'll at least teach you how to defend yourself from being in a situation like that again (It's his way of showing that he cares and doesn't want you getting hurt again<3) Rin Itoshi -> He will rush over immediately, I mean as much as he likes to win he doesn't wanna see you get hurt in the process, he could clearly tell the way the teams were set up was quite unfair, having the good players on one side and the bad ones on the other -> Checks around for injuries, all while grumbling that you should have been paying attention and not off in whatever world you were in -> When he realizes that you're bleeding though he stands you up, not too fast just in case, and takes you over to a teacher, letting them know that he's taking you over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else, and then makes sure you get there safe before heading back -> Only goes back because the person working there said it was fine if he did and not because he wanted too, in all honesty he wanted to stay with you to make sure you were okay, as much as he didn't sound or look like it -> tries to take his mind off it by going back and playing more, but going against a team of lukewarm nobodies doesn't quite hit the spot for him so he just ends up worrying even more Nagi Seishiro -> The second that he saw you get hit he waited for a second and when he saw that you didn't bounce back like the people on his team normally did he made a slight effort to move a little faster to go make sure that you were alive still -> When he walked over and saw you were bleeding, he got up and let one of the teachers know, since he wasn't exactly sure what to do. They ended up making him help you to get to the nurse/infirmary/ whatever else, and when get got there he just kinda sat on the chair next to you, even when they told him he should go back to class -> He was kinda over football right then anyway, and he would have much rather stayed with you, way less of a hassle for him away, he would have also had to walk all the way back to the class and that's way to much work -> So instead he just stayed in there with you, and like everybody else kinda scolded you, or more in his case, lazily warned you about not paying attention when football are being passed around Bachira Meguru -> As soon as he witnessed you getting hit in the face with a ball, he laughed. No questions asked. -> Though as he was laughing he came over to check on you, at least to make sure that you were already and when he realized you weren't he quickly stopped laughing and tried to find somebody to get tissues or like really anything -> Gladly took you to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it when the teacher ask him to walk you down/over/up there. He def giggled about you getting hit in the face and was so curious about what you were thinking about before it happened -> Another man who is staying with you, Manz is not leaving until you leave, no matter what person tries to send him back to class -> Also, he's never gonna let you live it down Isagi Yoichi

-> This sweetheart! The second you got hit, he was right by your side (now if this was a match in Blue Lock, eh things would be different, but since he most likely wasn't trying all that hard since it was like people who actually knew how to play vs people that didn't he didn't wanna destroy anybody)

-> He helped you up and grabbed tissues and the whole nine yards, made sure to get you some water and everything like that, even volunteered to take you down to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it to make sure that you got there safe, and got some water on the way

-> When he got there, def was such a sweetheart to the people who were working and how concerned he looked for you, they didn't even ask him to go back to class, they just let him sit next to you and hold your hand and even almost all let out an "aww" when he would ask how you were every few minutes

-> Though once you started feeling better he would try to explain that you really have to be paying attention when you play, but also give you some help in learning ways to defend yourself against said flying footballs Reo Mikage

-> Another sweetheart, while he did slightly chuckle at you at first, when he jogged over and realized that you were bleeding he started worrying, asking people to grab him basically anything, which knowing Reo's popularity at school everybody scattered to grab something

-> Walked you up/down/over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it, and while he did also laugh on the way, teasing you slightly about if you were thinking about him, he was still pretty worried for your safety

-> Would sit in the infirmary/nurses office/whatever else with you the whole time, making sure that either the bleeding spotted or their wasn't any bruising or anything along those lines

-> Another one who would wait to scold you, he needs to make sure you're okay first, and he will tease you the whole time about getting hit in the face with a ball, and you'll never live it down

Sae Itoshi

-> Brother Like Brother

-> Will wait for a couple seconds just to see if you can take care of yourself, but when he realizes you're bleeding he walks over pretty fast, pushing anybody out of the way

-> Gets somebody to grab some tissues or something, or just anything to stop the bleeding as he takes you down to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it

-> Unlike his brother, he will stay, even if people tell him to head back. Why would he, it's not like lukewarm players will actually change anything for him

-> The staff might be a little pissed off at him later about his mean comments, but that's an issue for later.

-> He'll also ask every couple minutes if you're okay and if you need anything, but he won't sound as nice as Isagi when saying it. He will also call you dumb for not paying attention and getting hit in the face (but later on he'll also smile and chuckle at the thought)

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #meguru bachira x reader #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #xokohaneazusawa’s writings!

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fariesoiree · 10 months

Text

to hobie’s surprise, you’re still working into the late hours of the night. no way he’s gonna let that happen multiple nights in a row.

caution! mdni 3k wrdz, pet names, oral f. receiving fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, black fem reader, overstimulation, use of cunny cunt n pussy, back scratching, squirting, creampies pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

when hobie swung into your open window, he wasn’t expecting to see you awake and actually doing stuff.

his head tilts at the sight of you typing away at your laptop, swivel chair turning in endless semicircles. you’re dressed for bed, wearing a silk nightgown and your slippers astray beneath you. even your hair is tucked away from the night under the safety of your bonnet. “why are you up, ducky?” he climbs his way through the window purposely left open for him.

it’s become a part of your routine. you both live your lives during the day and at night, hobie comes by to climb into bed beside you. you spend the morning together, just for him to leave and do the same the next day. as long as neither of you acknowledge it, he doesn’t count it as a consistent schedule and therefore doesn’t feel the need to stop.

you don’t lift your head to acknowledge him like you routinely do. instead, your manicured hands dart across the keyboard. “got home from work late, got an essay to write. it’s due tomorrow night.”

“what?” his shadow grows nearer with each step he takes towards you. hobie knows you’re too far gone when you don’t reprimand him from sitting on your desk. “it’s almost four in the morning, lovely. you can’t do it tomorrow?”

“no,” there’s a pause between your words and the silence is filled with your incessant typing, “i picked up a shift at work so i can’t.”

“you’re becoming a cog in the capitalism machine. that’s why you’re so stressed out. you should to take a break before they make you a mindless slave. that’s what they want, y’know. for more people to – ”

you tilt your back, a sigh leaving your lips. your eyes close with the attempt to find what dwindling patience you have. “hobie, i really cannot do it tonight. i have an essay to write and it’s due tomorrow. i just told you that.”

he stares at you, only for a moment. there’s a lot of things he isn’t enjoying about this. the fact that you’re still awake, the fact that you’re stressing over something put in place to make you feel bad about yourself, and the fact that you’re snapping at him. he’s sure it’s due to your lack of sleep but that doesn’t make him feel any better about it. “you’re in a shitty mood and it’s starting to bother me.”

“wow, really?” you can’t help your sarcastic tone. it slips out before you’re aware of it. “i didn’t even realize i wasn’t feeling super good!” your eyes are rolling as you place the laptop on what desk space is left from his limber body. you regret it the moment you say it but you’re so deeply set in your ways that the second thought doesn’t linger long.

he’s silent again, fingers tapping against the desktop. he stares at the floor, outlining the wood detailing with his eyes.

you both stay like this for a while, typing and staring at the floor. you can’t deny his company aiding your stress relief. it’s always nice to have hobie around, even if he isn’t doing anything.

ten minutes pass before hobie is glancing at the clock. “alright,” he finally says while rising to his feet. “time for bed, love.” he turns your chair himself, dragging you away from your nearly completed essay.

“what are you doing? i have work to do.” you struggle against him, tugging your arms but to no avail. he’s just so much more stronger than you, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. “hobie,” you whine as he gathers you up and into the air with his super human abilities.

“oh, i heard you,” hobie says, closing your screen and turning off your desk lamp. the room immediately gets dark. the lamp functioned as the sole light in these hours. having it off sent your space in a blanket of nothingness. “i just don’t care. you’re tired and your attitude is shit.”

you can never get over how easily he overpowers you, despite his tiny frame. while hobie is large in height, he’s the lankiest thing. his strength solely came from his radioactive spider.

you huff, throwing your weight around. all it does is get you tossed onto the bed. because your eyes have yet to adjust to the lighting, you’re unable to see a thing. you can’t help but shriek upon impact, bouncing on your mattress. “what the hell, ‘bie? my attitude is shit? your attitude is shit. mad at me because i’m not giving you attention because i have stuff to do. of course i’m tired. i’ve been up all night because i actually have responsibilities.”

“stop fightin’ with me.” hobie worms his way next to your body. his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “and while you’re at it, stop talkin’ and go to sleep.”

you’re still mumbling your distaste against his skin, arms pushing against him. you’re refusing to go down like this, to let him simply take you away from the essay you’ve been working so hard on. you’re so close to finishing, you can taste it. “isn’t this against what you stand for? thought it’s wrong to force someone to do something.”

he only holds you tighter, strapping your arms down in his grip. “you’re not takin’ care of yourself, princess. didn’t sleep last night, didn’t sleep the night before. think i’m gonna let you not sleep again? especially since you’re talkin’ to me like you’ve lost your mind.”

“i’m not! i didn’t say anything to you. if your feelings are hurt that’s your fault.” you resorting to using your feet, kicking at him until he’s forced to tangle his legs with yours.

“you’re always sayin’ the same thing when i call you out on somethin’. ‘i didn’t do it’. ‘it’s your fault’. ‘i’m not sorry’.” hobie’s voice raises a few octaves to mock yours. “it’s not rocket science. just admit it and let me help you.”

your cheeks puff in irritation. his route isn’t helping your mood and knowing unfinished work is just arms length away is making you antsy. “unless you’re gonna get up and do it for me, which you won’t, you can’t help me.”

with your next blink, you find yourself on your back. the bed dips and rises as hobie adjusts his position, arms locking around your legs and hands resting on your stomach. “what the actual fuck are you doing?” you sit up and as a result, slide out of his grasp just a bit.

hobie just yanks you back down and tightens his hold, leaving you no choice but to remain at his mercy. “helpin’ you. if you don’t wanna go to sleep, fine. i’ll just make sure you can’t do nothin’ else.”

he rolls the hem of your gown up, despite your protests above him. you wiggle about but it has no effect on his focus. he’s too busy staring at the pretty cotton panties you sport. “you need to relax, treacle. gonna spread yourself thin.”

you blow out a breath, somewhat mixed with frustration and defeat. you know he’s right but your mind is already racing with everything you have to complete this week, including going to work and making school deadlines. “that’s reality, ‘bie. that’s how it is. i’m not a crime fighting, rioting spider person with no cares for anything. i actually have to be a cog in the machine or whatever you said.”

his lips ghost and press against your skin, littering soft kisses along your inner thigh. “so? don’t gotta let them use you like this.”

“hobie.”

he hooks his finger around the bottom, pulling the white material to the side. “jus’ worried about you is all, dovey. shouldn’t even be awake, much less doing somethin’ right now.”

he tenderly kneads the stress away at your hip while his thumb coaxes you into submission, drawing slow circles on your clit. he leans his head against your skin, looking through his eyelashes to watch you.

you, who’s struggling to give off an unaffected impression, eyes closed and knees bending. “get off. you’re annoying me.” your slight grip on your sheets tell him otherwise.

“mhm,” hobie hums. his gaze is trained on you and you only while he warms your sex up to his touch. “you gonna go to sleep if i do?”

your silence is a loud enough response for him. he turns back to your now glistening cunt. his thumb glides over it with ease, collecting your slick and redistributing it along your folds.

he doesn’t understand you and your need to fight against him. hobie really is just trying to take care of you and you’re insisting on ignoring him and rotting your soul away. as if he is going to stand by and let that happen.

you keen at the feeling of his tongue running over your cunny, flat and thick. a soft pant falls out your lips, just barely open. your fingers curl into your palm. there’s a part of you that doesn’t want him to know, yet, how quickly he’s consuming your thoughts so you force you spine into the mattress and hold your arms against yourself.

you clench your teeth together and mute the moans that crawl their way up your throat as hobie drags his tongue around. his lips wrap around your bundle of nerves, suckling off the juices. his lips piercings aren’t helping, slotting against your skin and sending you into overdrive.

he glances at you for a second, only when you give in and entangle your hand in his hair. the tug that follows only pulls him closer. he has to pull your thighs apart when they threaten to close around his head. any other day, he’d stare at you with a warning slap to your pussy but tonight, he lets it slide in hopes you’ll tire yourself out.

hobie can tell your close when your writhe in his hold, both to get away from and get closer to his tongue. he’s easing you into it with a hand reaching up to clasp yours and another at the soft skin of your tummy, forcing your back out the arch. he massages your skin in encouragement at your orgasm that comes ripping through your body.

hobie, although unhappily, has to leave your pretty pussy behind. you’re pulling his hair so hard, he’s forced to resurface until he’s eye level. “feel better?” he positions himself next to you on his side. he’s sweet, draping his arm around your waist.

as he expected, you nod and curl into his chest. you can’t deny that much of the stress you felt before dissipated. hobie’s warmth is soothing, enticing you to revel in your sheets. you’re grateful when he pulls the duvet over your bodies.

his head is in the groove between your neck and shoulder, peppering kisses along your skin. “that’s good to hear, duck.” his fingers run up and down your back, just grazing and dipping farther and farther down. “still thinkin’ about all’at stuff?”

“yeah but i can just do it tomorrow. it’s not like i have a lot left because i already did most of – hobie!”

you shriek when his fingers suddenly become nestled inside you. you grip his shirt, hiding within his chest. you shudder at the feeling of them move, stroking against your cunt.

“you’re still thinkin’ about it.” he chastises with a click of his tongue. he holds you in place to control your twitching, continuing to peg his digits into you. “wrong answer.”

“i’m not,” you whine. you can both feel your gummy walls tighten and twitch, sucking him in despite you campaigning to get away from him.

“you’re not?” hobie cradles you against him, gentle in touch. “could have sworn you just said it, though.”

you whimper and mewl, torn between enjoyment and overstimulation. his fingers are larger than you can comprehend, digging dip within your core, and much longer than yours, pressing farther than you could ever do yourself.

you’re reduced to sobs, nearly shredding his shirt into two with how much you’re pulling it apart. the popping of the seams is drowned by your voice and the squelching of your slick against his hand.

his arm against your back leaves you little room to struggle with his fingers prodding from behind. at some point your leg slips around his waist.

“it’s okay, pretty. i got you, yeah?” hobie feels hot, physically hot. the duvet wasn’t helping, trapping your body heat that increased with each movement. he also can’t help his massive boner, having to fight the urge to rut against you.

hobie knows this is about you, or rather that he’s making it about you. about helping his baby get to sleep. this isn’t the first time he’s came back and seen you up at the late hours of the night. the first few times, he let it go but the longer this continues, the more messed up your sleep schedule is going to be. he has to interfere, especially when you’ve been waking up in a terrible mood each morning, a frown already settled on your lips before you’ve even gotten out of bed.

he’s so deep in his thoughts, hobie nearly misses how desperate you suddenly get. it’s only when you’re reaching behind to grasp his wrist that his brain fog is gone.

he didn’t realize, either, how much faster he’s moving, fingers bumping against your spot. “dove,” hobie says it softly, “i don’t want to use my webs on you. move em’ before i do.”

you’re reluctant but obliged, unwrapping your fingers from his wrist and hanging them over his shoulder. you find yourself plunging your nails into his skin. “hobie,” you cry out, hips grinding against him.

“i know, pretty. i know,” he whispers against your forehead. “let it out. i got you.” hobie consoles you as your body tenses in his hold.

you’re all wound up, taking a final gasp as it all rolls off your skin. he draws gushes of your cum out your leaking hole and swallows your sobs in his mouth, connected with a kiss. you’re grateful for his comfort, clinging onto him as if he is your saving grace

your chest rises and falls with each breath and you shove his hand away. “no more,” you roll away from him, simultaneously pulling off the covers for some much needed cool air.

it’s futile when hobie draws you back into him after tossing off his shirt, himself. “nah, i think you have another one left in you.” you can feel him shuffling behind you and assume he’s preparing to pull his dick out.

you tightly cross your legs together at his words, eyes darting around for a clock. “what? it’s so late, though. i have so much to do tomorrow, too. we should just sleep.”

your rational fall on deaf ears because he’s easily lifting your leg into the air and almost to your shoulders. “oh? you have a lot to do tomorrow?”

his tone has your stomach twisting. you wet your lips, feeling around for something to hold on to. “n – no. i don’t. i’m not doing anything tomorrow.”

the fat tip of his cock slaps against your folds, sticky from his own arousal. “too late, lovely. you already said it. gotta fuck it out of you.”

you’re still pleading your disagreement and how you’ll start sleeping at a proper time when hobie stuffs his cockhead inside your cunny.

he groans in your ear upon your welcoming wet grip. you always feel so good, at this point he’s addicted. if he ever died in your cunt, hobie would be the happiest man in the world.

thanks to the previous orgasms, there’s no pushback. only you griping about how you can’t take it and that he’s too big, which hobie knows is a lie. truthfully, you go through the same thing every time and he can never get enough of it.

“tired yet?” he grunts in tune with his rapid, steady paced thrusts. hobie doesn’t expect anything past your incoherent gargles.

you clutch the mattress under your pillow, prying at the fitted sheet. with every thrust, your body lurches forward. your head turns on your own accord, reaching out to cup his cheek.

you’re so cute, he thinks, with your eyes big and round and full of enchantment. you heave him towards you until your lips are moving together in perfect synchrony.

hobie wraps his tongue around yours, sitting up to deepen in. with his neck craned down and your dress pulled up, he gets a perfect view of his dick sliding in and out.

it glistens, even if the limited moonlight. the base is especially glazed over, foaming with a white sheen.

he feels like he’s becoming deranged when you toss your head back in ecstasy. you’re going to kill him, he’s sure.

and he’s even more sure when your tiny fist is rapping against the bed. “oh my days, oh my – fuck!” you outstretch your arm until you find his, grabbing in a firm hold.

hobie plants his head on top of yours and inhales the whiffs of hair products from your bonnet. he can smell the lingering hints of rosemary from your oil. “no more staying up late, you hear? pissin’ me off with this.”

and like the best girl you are, you nod brainlessly. your wordless promise is taken seriously, you’re sure. it’s cemented when hobie forces you to look at him.

his eye contact is just as intense as the grip on your cheeks. you can see just how vehement he is and it only makes you needier.

your face screws up as one final indication before your entire body trembles. you fall limp onto your side, cunt spasming around him. you’ve been fucked into oblivion, ready to settle in for the night. to your surprise, hobie has other plans.

his pulling out has you thinking he’s done, only to roll you into your back and position himself on top of you. he doesn’t wait for you realize what’s happening before he’s aligning his tip with your entrance again and gliding it in with ease.

you feel full to the brim, one hand on his chest and the other scraping your nails against the headboard. at some point, he supposes his own lust kicked in. after putting your needs first, he’s given free reign to chase his own orgasm.

that’s exactly what he’s doing now, pounding into you with such speed, your tits have been jostled out your top. the brown of your nipples has his infatuated brain screaming.

“hobie!” you all but yell. you’re inching slowly towards the top of the bed, unaware of your movements. hobie isn’t, though. he finds purchase at your hips to shift you back into place.

“hold – hold on. jus’ wait.” he moves both your legs over his left shoulder, driving deep.

you swear you can feel him in your throat, swear he’s realigning your insides like some sort of chiropractor. “gonna – ” your eyes roll to the back of your head. your nails dig into his back and drag across the skin as you try to ground yourself.

immediately, his attention fall to your cunt. hobie expects to see the usual sparkling ooze of cum but to his marvelment, watery squirts take it’s place.

you seize up so tight on him, he’s forced to release inside you without warning. he has to remember to hold himself up as to not crush you beneath him. all he can think about is how that was probably the best nut he’s ever had.

“you . . . you wanna finish your paper?” hobie says finally. he’s the first one to speak as you were both trying to catch your breath from your late night exercise.

you so quickly scowl at him, both at the implications and the thought of doing anything else tonight. “you must not value your life. you can’t.”

hobie smiles, lazily. he kneads at your muscles. “bear with me, treacle. ‘s gonna be uncomfortable.” he warns, anticipating the wince your expression turns into as he pulls out, genuinely this time.

you can feel the scratches developing from your previous actions, rubbing his shoulders, and a tinge of guilt tugs at your heart. “sorry. for these and all the worry i caused you . . . and also for what i said.” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close until you’re both laying down, cuddling up on each other. although you can’t quite remember what you said, you know you would have never uttered the words on a normal day.

he shrugs, fixing your slipping bonnet and unbunching your nightgown. “it’s in the past. i’m not thinkin’ about that, right now. i’m thinkin’ about how we need to get you ready for bed, again. can’t go to bed like this.”

he’s right but you’re still dramatic about in, unwilling to leave the comfort of your bed. “ten minutes.” you say, eyes fluttering closed. you revel in your sheets as long as you can before hobie chuckles, ripping them off.

“no, can’t do that. we’re doin’ it now. we both have to shower and shit and you probably can’t stand without me,” his voice is lighthearted, if not evident by the smirk playing in his lips.

he’s carrying you again, subjecting you to the princess treatment he feels you deserve. the most funny part about this, to him, is how dedicated you were before to staying up all night.

now, you’re all pliant and it’s purely due to him and his cock. even though hobie made you promise these endless nights won’t continue, he definitely doesn’t mind doing this again. especially after how easily you finally knock out, mouth wide open and snoring.

#✮🕷✮⋆˙#hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #hobie x reader #x black reader #x reader #hobie x y/n

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builtbybrokenbells · 5 months

Text

Rotten Apple | JTK

Karmic relationships indicate feeling or expressing a passionate response very early on in a relationship. Oftentimes, instant chemistry is mutually felt. Sometimes, the drain of that connection or addiction to a partner is described as exhausting rather than feeling calmly settled in a grounded partnership. (Elizabeth Keohan, LCSW-C, LICSW, LCSW)

Listen while reading: (the entire fic is based off this song so I highly suggest at least reading the lyrics before reading 😁)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING AS THIS STORY COULD BE POTENTIALLY HARMFUL/UPSETTING TO SOME READERS//SMUT 18+, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), sir kink, choking, touch of orgasm denial, dom/sub, possessiveness, jealousy, degradation, name calling, praise, rough sex, toxic themes/relationships, heavy implications/explanations of cheating/infidelity, actual cheating/infidelity, chronic cheaters, gaslighting/manipulative phrases, fighting, arguing, crying, insulting, mentions of bad relationships/relationship trauma, mistresses/home wrecking, self hatred/self sabotage, remorse/regret, depression, anxiety, (lots) angst, (some) fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

and im back 😙 please tread carefully with this one if any of the aforementioned warnings are personal to you. this definitely isn’t some people’s cup of tea! aside from that, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (so sorry, very lightly edited. just wanted to get this posted so i can keep going with more stuff 😁) (also another side note, I do not condone cheating at all. was just an idea that sparked some creativity is all)

Innocence is over

Hey ah na na, over

Ignorance is spoken

Hey ah na na, spoken

Confidence is broken

Hey ah na na broken

Sustenance is stolen

Hey ah na na, stolen

Arrogance is potent

Hey ah na na, potent, yeah

“Y/N!” Your name screamed over the busy chatter of the crowd around you, catching your attention and turning your head.

House parties had always been so overrated, and since high school, it seemed the scene hadn’t changed a bit. Even in your late twenties, the spill of alcohol on the floor made your soles sticky and the haze in the air choked you as you breathed. The home you were in was familiar, but certainly not comfortable, and the memories that lived inside the walls were haunting as they flashed before your eyes. The crowd of people around you only made it harder to escape the stalemate remembering had put you in. Still, you pushed a smile on to your face, holding the hand in yours a little tighter as you marched forward toward the greeting.

So many questions flooded your mind as you closed in on the perpetrator of your punishment. You knew they would all be here; they invited you, after all. The text message exuding formalities and lacking substance was the whole reason you stepped foot in the door in the first place, and you knew without a doubt that they would be waiting to greet you soon as you showed.

Well, three of them, anyway.

You swallowed your pride, leading your company through the swarm of bodies. The weaving was tiresome, and you had only just begun navigating your way through an exhausting journey. It was too early to be tired, too soon to be so cynical, yet it was all you could do. Something about the story was too repetitive for you to believe the night would end any differently than you imagined when you received the invitation.

The questions continued to beat against your skull, twisting around the guitar riffs and raspy voices flowing through the speakers in the living room. It made for a violent pair, and your eyes began aching from the pressure behind them. Your body was telling you it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t listen. You had faith that the night would be different, that you would be different, stronger than you were before.

You could turn around, submit to your already guilty conscience and run out the door. You could pretend you never heard your name at all, and more importantly, pretend you never read the message in the first place. You responded too fast to a person who should have been long deleted from your contact list, but if you played the game well enough, you could climb out of the hole you already dug yourself in. You could come out on top of this, you could conquer the world that previously held you back from succeeding. All it took was turning around, leaving, walking away from him.

For some reason, your feet continued forward, neglecting every warning your psyche could give. They carried you far enough that you landed before the person you knew you should walk away from.

No, not the person.

Just the closest one to him.

“Hey, Josh.” His name felt like poison on your tongue, already seeping through the gaps of your teeth and searing holes into the flesh. You could feel the pain deep into your jaw, running down the back of your throat and circling around your neck. The sensation was lethal, but it was addicting. Something about the brothers made you a sucker for the pain. You hated the names now, but you hated yourself more for never having the willpower not to speak them.

“I’m glad you came! I didn’t really think you would message me back.” He confessed, leaping forward and extending his arms outward.

He wanted a hug, innocent and warm, a sure way to greet you with all of the love he still had for you.

To you, it was none of those things. Instead, it served as a reminder of your catastrophic failures and the life you once lived. A life that was painful, ugly and cruel, but still seemed shiny, like a dream you craved to see in your deepest sleep. The person that used to hug Josh Kiszka was not someone you wanted to be, but it was someone you could not escape, someone who only showed herself when she was around him. You could not be around Josh without being near him, too, and for that reason alone you had pinned Josh with his brothers crimes, too.

Still, your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer and torturing yourself with the scent of his cologne. As his arms closed in around you, the anguish of the familiar touch nearly sent you to your knees.

It wasn’t the same, but it was the closest thing to what you truly wanted.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I figured I’d stop by and say hi at least.” You replied, your head still swimming with uncertainty over the interaction. “I should probably be on my way soon, anyway. I can’t stay long.”

“Oh come on, stay a while! Don’t leave yet, you just got here!”

What game was he playing?

He knew the consequences of your presence in their lives, and he was lighting a match that would fuel an unstoppable fire.

“Maybe just for a little while.” You gave a soft smile, hiding your longing for the connection you had so long ago. His words were kind, more generous than they should be, but the weight of your past mistakes were heavy between you.

Maybe that was why you didn’t have the heart to turn him down. Subconsciously, you were stuck in some repetitive cycle of trying to right wrongs you were not fully responsible for.

“Who is this, anyway?” Josh turned to the man standing next to you, eyeing him carefully as he took in the sight before him. His gaze traveled from his face down to his arm, piecing it together once he saw your fingers still interlocked with his.

“This is Cole…” you said, slowly while Josh’s eyes moved back to meet your own. “My boyfriend.” You didn’t need to say the word. The implication was already painfully obvious, and all you did was rub salt in your open wounds.

Why did you bring him with you?

Why did you come at all?

“I see,” Josh grinned, but it was just as fake as your own cheeriness. You were both thinking the same thing, without a doubt for the future when the night came to an end. “It’s nice to meet you, Cole. I’m Josh.” He extended his hand for your new boyfriend to shake, the formality only slightly off putting as Josh’s eyes remained locked with yours.

‘Not tonight, Josh. Not this time.’ You tried to plead with him, silently telling him that tonight would be different than all the ones that came before. ‘It’s different now. You have to believe me.’

He did not, and you could not blame him. You did not even believe yourself.

By the end of the night, your relationship with the boy beside you would be no more. Jake Kiszka would see to that, and your undying desire for him would solidify it. It was a matter of time before you crossed his path, and not long after that would the incessant cycle resume exactly where it left off.

“Nice to meet you man.” Your boyfriend's voice was cheerful, and unlike yours, genuine. If only he knew the hurt he would endure, he would have left long before he ever experienced love at your hands.

No matter how hard you tried, it always ended the same way. No matter who it was, they were never able to compare to the boy who forever stole your heart.

“So how do you two know each other?” Cole asked, looking down at you now. You bit the tip of your tongue, standing stoic for a moment as you tried to come up with a quick lie. Without being too obvious, you tried to silently warn Josh to keep his mouth shut. You should have known better.

You have always known better.

“She’s never told you about Jake?” Josh laughed, finding the notion incredulous. He was too drunk to lie, but it wasn’t like he could ever do it sober. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes pointed towards the floor, feeling your heart jump to your throat and your head begin to ache. The poison of Jake’s name melted your tongue entirely, leaving you wordless and unable to defend yourself.

“Jake?” Your boyfriend asked, wearily speaking the name aloud as if it were a curse he was desperate to avoid. “Your uh… your ex?” He wanted clarification, or assurance that he was wrong, but it was something you could not give to him because he was right.

“Y-yeah.” You choked out, feeling your throat begin to close and air become scarce. “This is his brother.”

Innocence is over

Cole formed a tight-lipped smile, but did not let go of your hand. In an instant, he understood that attending the house party was not a mindless effort at a drunken date. He was not meeting your old friends, and he was not out to have a good time. Instead, the intent ran much deeper, and he was being used in a pissing contest for bragging rights to the ex he had always felt inferior to.

You wanted to assure him it wasn’t like that, but it was, and speaking would get you no further ahead of the game.

Why would Josh tell him? Why would he say it like that, as if Jake was the reason why you were there?

You closed your eyes, silencing your brain for a moment as you digested the truth.

Jake was the reason why you were there, and he was trying to spare Cole the heartbreak.

“He was barely an ex, Cole. You know that.” You spoke, bargaining with the distaste already forming in his heart.

Out of all of the dishonesty you had already dealt, that was the truth. An ex was not what you would classify Jake as, because you barely dated him. In fact, you hadn’t really dated him at all. You spent weeks secluded behind the walls of the very house you stood in now, nights wrapped up in him, tainting his sheets with the smell of your shampoo, but you were never his girlfriend.

You wanted to believe that if you had stayed just a little while longer, gave him a little bit more, maybe you would have been, but holding on to that belief was painful more than it ever served a comfort.

“Right,” he whispered, his hand still in yours. It felt wrong, just like it had the first time he ever held it. Cole never should have been in the middle of this, because he never should have been yours at all. You had no idea why you ever said yes to the title of girlfriend, because you never wanted it, and you had no idea why you invited him here tonight, especially knowing how it would end.

“Either way, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see Jake, I came to see you.” You said, pointing the finger at Josh to get yourself out of the spotlight. “You asked me, remember? What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to celebrate your new album?” You forced another smile, begging them both to believe that’s why you really showed up. Cole seemed to relax slightly at the sound of your words, but his chest still ached at the idea of being in Jake Kiszka’s house.

Was Josh encouraging you to fall back into old habits? Was Josh playing martyr for a cause that would only hurt everyone in the crossfire?

You could not believe he wanted to see you, because if he missed you so much, he would have shown up at your door. You would have went for coffee or shared dinner like you did so many times before, but instead he invited you to a party hosted by the one man you needed to stay away from.

“The worst.” He joked, playing along with your poor excuses. An awkward silence hung heavy between the the three of you. Nobody knew what to say, because no words could ever turn the conversation to a positive tone.

“Did you want a drink, baby?” Cole asked, looking over his shoulder to the liquor bottles on the kitchen table. You followed his gaze, eager for him to leave you alone so you could pry into Josh’s head.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, giving him a smile.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He said, clearly looking for a way out of the tense situation.

“I’ll be right here.” You promised. He seemed reluctant to leave you, but after a shared glance and silent reassurance, he retreated to the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Josh again, desperate for an answer.

“Why did you invite me, Josh?” You asked, your tone turning grievous in an instant. The sweetness you held seconds before disappeared without a trace.

“He wanted me to.” Josh admitted, giving a shrug of his shoulder. “I didn’t know you’d bring a date.” He continued, his words more accusatory than you liked.

“Is it a crime?”

“When you know the consequences, yeah.” He answered, truthful with his response. “Listen, I’m happy to see you, Y/N. Whatever the fuck happens between you and Jake is none of my business. You’re my friend, and I’m glad you came, but I do think that you should be mindful of him before anything happens.”

“I’m not here to see Jake, Josh. I came because you invited me, because we’re friends. Remember, before all of this shit happened?”

“How could I forget?” He chuckled, thinking back fondly on the memories. Josh had been your friend first, the whole reason you knew Jake at all, but after all of the pain, your friendship with him seemed to get lost in the mess. “As much as I’d like to believe that you’re here to see me, we both know it’s not true.” He paused, thinking carefully before he spoke again. “And as much as I don’t want your new guy to get hurt, it would be nice to see you and Jake catch up, especially after it ended the way it did.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to him, Josh.” You crossed your arms over your chest, accentuating the cleavage in your already skimpy dress. You had picked it with Jake in mind, even if you would never admit it.

“You have lots to say, mama. We all know that.”

With that, a body presented itself beside you again and a drink was being offered to you. You sent Josh a pointed stare, letting the action finish the conversation for good. Josh nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze before walking away.

Cole noticed, and you couldn’t blame him for his questioning gaze, but it did irritate you beyond belief. He was treading in waters too dangerous to survive.

Instead of asking, he opted to keep quiet in fear of the answer he would receive.

Ignorance is spoken

“It’s really nice of you to support Josh like that, even after Jake fucked you over.” Cole said, sending a small smile your way. You took a moment to admire him, his beauty, and his bare-faced stupidity.

“We’ve been friends for a long time. It’s the least I could do.” You shrugged, brushing off his sweet sentiments.

Cole knew you were not there to support Josh, but he was forcing himself to believe it. It was easier for him to digest, thinking that your intentions were friendly and honest. When he focused on the alternative for too long, he thought he would be sick.

Before you could respond, you were pulled into a whirlwind of emotion as your eyes fixated on something within the crowd. In the distance, you saw a flash of familiar brown hair. The sight made your stomach turn and your palms turn clammy.

He wanted you to come.

Josh’s words repeated in your head, making it hard to think of anything else. Jake wanted you there. He asked for you. He knew you would never answer if he asked you himself, because you had never been keen on giving him what he wanted.

That was yours and Jake's biggest problem; you wanted too much from each other, and neither of you had ever been very generous. He wanted more than you could give, and you wanted what he could not provide.

Despite knowing that about yourselves, there was this incessant temptation in both of your minds, forcing you to believe that you were the best the other could ever get, even if it never worked out, and even if all it ever caused was pain.

The familiar head was not pointed in your direction, but you were certain it would be soon. The two of you had an awful attachment to one another, the bond extending into the realm of spirituality and likely even far beyond it. If you walked in a room, he knew, no matter how far away or how invested he was in something else. If you left, your absence hung heavy in the air and haunted him, even if he did not witness you leave. He was completely in tune with you, knowing your next move without you saying a word.

Even if you tried to ignore it, you knew you felt it just the same when it came to his presence and absence.

He was a habit you couldn’t kick, a guilty pleasure and an addiction far more lethal than one to substance. You would search for him in every room, cry out for him and him alone in the darkest nights, and long for his company after he disappeared from sight. His voice was like venom, seeping under your skin and tainting the blood supply the minute it reached your ears. His eyes, easy to get lost in and your definite demise.

He was not good for you, and he never would be, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him. He was the most karmic relationship you’d ever engaged in, punishing you for wrongs you’d committed long before you met him. At the same time, he was making you engage in far more at his hand than you ever believed possible. You didn’t want to want him, but it was impossible to deny. The thought of not needing him was obsolete, because you never knew a moment of peace after he walked into your life.

You could not be with him, and you knew even in the future it would never be in your cards, either. For some reason, even while knowing he was actively ruining your life, you jumped at the chance to love him one more time. You destroyed every opportunity given to you in favor of his twisted agenda, and you did it without regret or second thought. New relationships blossomed after he walked away from you, and failed when he decided to walk your way again. You needed to stay away, to put a boundary in place, but you loved his sin too much to refute it.

You had slowly come to terms with the fact Jake Kiszka would be your kryptonite until you took your dying breath. He was inescapable, and even if you would never truly be his, he would always have a part of you.

No, he would always have all of you, but he would never be yours to keep.

And just like the world ensured it a million times before, the head turned, and the familiar brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul once more.

You couldn’t run, because he would always find you. You couldn’t run to him, because the boy by your side would know the truth behind the situation you had been trying so hard to keep a handle on. You were stuck, glued to the floor and locked in position until he decided to walk your way.

He was in control, and always had been. Since the moment you met him, you were happy to leave your fate in his hands, blindly trusting a man who only ever did what he could to fuck you over.

You couldn’t see all of his face, but you knew how beautiful he looked despite the crowd standing in his way. You could picture it crystal clear, the pout of his lips and the heavy-lidded eyes filled with lust. You knew the wrinkled furrow of his brow better than anything else in the world, and the softness of his skin and how good it felt under your touch.

As he stared, only his eyes visible to you, you knew he was envisioning all the same things.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Cole asked, his voice concerned. His hand on your back was excruciating, the overwhelming feeling of wrongness growing by the second.

You wanted to tell him, to send him away before he met the same fate as everyone who came before him, yet you couldn’t bear the thought of confessing all of your secrets to him. Some small part of you even believed you could avoid it this time, even whilst you felt the gravitational pull all the way across the room and through the crowd. You wanted to be the good guy and spare him, and you wanted to be the best person and end the cycle, but you knew neither would happen.

There were two reasons why you could not do those things; one being that Jake Kiszka made you into the worst version of yourself, and two, he was walking towards you now with no intent to slow.

“I-I’m okay,” you tried to assure him, but your voice was shaky and your words were weak. It did not take a genius to understand why, and as his eyes moved to look in the same direction of yours, his stomach was sick with fear. He did not know Jake by looks, but he knew you, and he knew that your pompous reaction would not be caused by anything other than him.

“Y/N, let’s go.” Cole said, trying to get you out of the situation before it began, but you were already in his sight, and there was no shying away. The hunter settled on prey, and you could only hope that Jake had enough kindness left in his heart to spare you from the suffering he so often inflicted upon you.

“I-I can’t.” You shook your head, noticing his grip move to your arm. He was trying to force you away, almost as if he knew his fate before it began to unfold.

“The fuck you can’t.” He scoffed, nudging you in the opposite direction of the man approaching you. “Let’s go.” He said again, harsher than the last.

You should listen.

You should leave.

It was too late, anyway. Your choosing of Jake over anyone else was a disaster, but it was something no outward intervention could have possibly changed. It was your own personal law, and when it came to a competition between Jake and anyone else, the contender always lost.

He was in front of you again. Months of static silence and breaking hearts, months of longing and yearning for something you could not have, finally came to a bitter end. It had been so long since you were face to face with Jake that you almost managed to forget how intoxicating his aura was. Almost, being the key word, because deep down you knew you would never forget a thing about him.

“Long time no see, sweetheart.” His voice was like liquid gold, washing down over you and curing any ailment that plagued you. The pout of his lip had only become more irresistible, and his chocolate coloured irises locked you in for eternity. Even if you wanted to leave, you knew it to be impossible.

“Could have kept it that way.” You replied, your lips turning down into a slight frown. Your eyes, though, told a much different story that he was quite privy to. You were good at keeping the feelings between the two of you a secret to anyone looking in, but inside, you were dying for him to touch you. Just once, just for a second so you could ascend to heaven again. It was a feeling only he could give, and you had been deprived of it for a long time, constantly in search of the high since his absence began.

“Right,” he chuckled, remembering your snarky tone all too well. “That’s why you came to my house? To bitch at me for saying hi?” His words were evil, and so was his tone, but you nearly went weak in the knees hearing the domineering voice once again. His eyes held emotion different from the venom of his words, and you could feel how thrilled he was to see you again.

“It wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t bitching at you for something, Jacob.” You reminded, keeping your expression stony so he could not use anything to his advantage.

“Of course, angel. It’s what I love most about you.” He smirked, nodding in agreement. You noticed his eyes flicker to the man beside you, the one holding your arm so tightly in hopes he could pull you away. Jake bit back a bigger smile, knowing there was nothing strong enough in the world to pull you away from him.

His black dress shirt was held together by the bottom three buttons. A fitted suit jacket was settled neatly atop it, but it was not screaming anything overly fancy. The cheap necklaces around his neck dumbed down the expensive clothing, but you cursed how remarkably well it worked together. His dress pants hugged his hips, and the tanned skin of his chest held your attention. It was not the clothes that sent you mad, but the fact you had before studied the beautiful intricacies that lie beneath.

“Are you going to introduce me to your little friend?” He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, raising his eyebrow in inquiry.

Little was a term he used only to assert his dominance. Cole stood heads taller, and his shoulders were much wider, but in the moment, Jake appeared much bigger than the man beside you. His ego was so large that it left no space in the room for anyone else, and his confidence made Cole pale in comparison to him.

“Boyfriend.” Cole corrected, his jaw clenched and his grip on you growing tighter by the minute. At that, Jake laughed out loud, unable to hold his feelings on the matter. Cole swallowed back the bitter taste it left in his mouth, but opted not to respond.

“Okay.” Jake nodded, looking back to you for clarification. “Your boyfriend.” He reworded his question, putting emphasis on the term and making it painfully apparent he had no interest in talking to Cole at all.

“This is Cole.” Was all you said, your nostrils flaring slightly at Jake’s egotistical expression. As much as you craved for him to touch you, you weren’t blind to his abhorrent tendency towards cockiness.

“You move on quick, sweetheart.” He noted, glancing back at the other man for a moment. You scowled at his willingness to shame you for dating another when he was the one who drove you to it in the first place. Before you could comment on his misplaced belief, a blonde haired woman appeared beside him, making the situation all the more tense. You forced a smile on your lips, watching closely as she clumsily grabbed his arm, claiming her territory without a trace of humility.

“Seems like you do, too.” You shot back, biting down on the tip of your tongue hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled your senses, but the pain did nothing to deter the rise of anger in your chest.

She did not say a word, but she did not have to. She was the same to Jake as Cole was to you: a placeholder.

As much as you were a victim to Jake, he was just the same to you.

You moved on, found another to replace the hole he left in you when he walked away. He found her, hoping she would feel as good in his arms as you did, but she could never give him the same thing. She could try until the end of time, but both of you knew she could never come close.

“Was nice seeing you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” His words were equal to a dismissal of the conversation, but his eyes spoke something completely different. He wasn’t done, and neither were you. He approached you with intent to start anew, and he would see through to it no matter who got caught in the crossfire.

He slung a lazy arm around her waist, giving you a subtle wink before pulling her off in the same direction they came.

You thought you were going to be sick, your entire body aching with the knowledge he was touching someone other than you. You wondered if you loving someone else plagued him with the same illness, or if he viewed it as a game. You constantly feared that he did not feel for you what you felt for him, but you’d always been too afraid to ask.

“What a fucking douchebag.” Cole muttered, only loosening his grip on you after Jake was out of sight. As he let go, you raised your opposite hand to the same spot, rubbing the sore skin where his fingers rested moments before.

“He’s not that bad, Cole.” The defense slipped out without a second thought, and his misplaced confidence was shattered entirely. You looked up at his face, wide eyed and regretful of your words, but the damage was done and a fight was unavoidable.

Confidence is broken

“Not that bad?” He echoed, practically scoffing the words out.

“Yeah, Cole. Not that bad.” You repeated, rolling your eyes. “He’s full of himself, yeah, but when you get to know him, he’s actually got a pretty good heart.”

“Good enough heart to fuck someone else in your bed?” He questioned, remembering the tearful stories you had told after too much wine. Your expression dropped, your heart plummeting to your stomach as you were forced into a memory you were committed to forgetting. “Did you actually come here to see him?”

“Yeah, he’s an alright person, but a shitty fucking boyfriend.” You nodded, swallowing back the lump forming in your throat. “Which is why I’m dating you, and not him.” You clarified, averting your gaze to the ground. “No, I didn’t come here to fucking see him, Cole.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, realizing his harsh words were not needed.

At the same time, they were. You were playing the victim to avoid being the bad guy. You hated being the bad guy, and when it came to Jake, you couldn’t seem to escape the title.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” You forced the words through your teeth, feeling the whirlwind of memories wash over you like acid rain. Your skin burned as they continued to flow, and you knew that you would die before you could ever outrun them.

“Babe, come on.” He pleaded, reaching out for your shoulder to hold you in place. You shook him off as soon as his fingers connected with your body, stepping away without a second thought.

Without any regret, you left him amidst the swarm of people in the house of your ex whom you knew you’d end up in bed with by the end of the night.

Even though the thought normally settled your upset stomach, not even the promise of sex with Jake could cure the sickness that washed over you. Remembering was the biggest curse of your entire relationship, and unfortunately for you, most of your relationship was remembering. You went without him more often than you were with him, and even the sweetest of memories were tainted with sins and sourness.

You navigated your way to the bathroom blind, your sight ridden with pictures of Jake shirtless in your bed, and worst of all, shirtless in bed with someone else.

If not for you knowing the house so well, you would have gotten lost in the endless sea of flashbacks.

From the very beginning, yours and Jake’s relationship was bound to fail. It began from lies and deceit, and it would carry on the same way until the next bitter end.

“And this is my twin brother, Jake, and his girlfriend, Suzanne.”

“You can call me Suz,” she flashed you a breathtaking smile, extending her arm towards you.

You barely registered her hand in your face, nor her friendly introduction, because you were too busy gawking at the blinding beauty of the long haired man beside her. You cleared your throat, swallowing hard and blinking twice to bring yourself back to reality. Even as you reached to shake her hand, you were unable to focus on her. As disrespectful as it was, even if it was her boyfriend, he was someone who was meant to be admired.

Plus, his wandering eyes and lustful gaze made it all the more easy to completely discredit the woman offering you her kindness.

Of course, it started that night. It started the minute his eyes locked with your own, like an unavoidable omen of the horror you would soon endure. The connection was instantaneous, and the desire followed not far behind. Although you didn’t sleep with Jake the first night you met him, you were no better than a mistress without ever taking your clothes off.

It started with lustful glances, then came the flirting in secrecy. Within days, he was going out of his way to catch you in the hallway or alone in a room to profess his affection for you. Weeks after that, the touching began, slowly but surely. It started with a lingering hand on your back, or hugs that never should have been initiated at all. Then, his hands drifted closer to your hips, and even worse, your ass. The hugs lasted far too long, and his lips treaded dangerously close to your skin.

You hated thinking about what you did to that poor woman, the tearful eyes as she berated the two of you as one. She was kind, she was beautiful, and she deserved better, but Jake Kiszka had always been too much to resist. Now, he was a habit you could not kick.

Over the years, the women became countless, and then men from your relationships, too. Everyone else saw that you could never keep a relationship, but it ran far deeper than that. You did exceptionally well at hiding your affections, and even better at hiding your betrayals. Jake and you never felt the desire to commit to one another, so instead you ruined other people while you committed to your relationship in every way other than officially. You did not intend to hurt so many people, and you never planned to betray others on behalf of each other, but it always seemed to happen no matter how hard you tried to stay away.

And then one day, the two of you had enough. You had lost too much humanity on your endless quest to be with each other, sacrificing too many people in the process. You decided to try, to be with each other in an honest and sincere way, just to make the world a little bit better for each other. You wanted to love each other openly, without anything or anyone standing in the way.

But, you didn’t want to be in a relationship.

Exclusivity was agreed upon, but labels were tossed in the garbage. The two of you convinced yourselves you were happy with the arrangement, and for a while, you truly were. At first, you kept it very quiet. You went on dates and stayed the night at each others houses, but only rarely. Most of the time, it was quick hookups whenever you had the opportunity to do so.

Then, things changed, and in his opinion, for the worst.

Both of you fell in love, completely and utterly, without question or care. Your apartment was forgotten after weeks of you staying in his bed. You shared meals together, sat outside on the porch and watched sunsets and sunrises, and said I love you in every action, but never aloud. Jake was indefinitely intertwined in your life in every way possible, and you were happy with it, until he said the dreaded ‘L’ word aloud.

It slipped out, carefully and quietly while you laid in his lap on the couch, watching reruns of your favourite shows. At first, you thought you misheard him, but the silence that hung in the air told you the truth about his words.

You loved him too, and you cursed yourself for not being able to say it back. You thought that it was too much too soon, despite living with love surrounding you constantly. It scared you, and you reacted with fear, even with your heart screaming at you to stop.

You didn’t say it back, because you neglected labels and thought it was not possible to be in love because of that. And, true, genuine love scared the absolute shit out of you.

It scared him too, but he seemed to harness more courage in that moment than you had in your entire life. Instead of applauding him for it, you effectively slapped him in the face.

For a few days, things carried on like normal, but you could notice the tension in the air. Every day, you could tell he waited to hear it, that he needed you to say it back, but it never came. After a while, he began to pull away, showing the old Jake that made you fall in lust with him in the first place. There were no more shared meals, and definitely no more sunset gazing. The television was off more often than it was on, and the blankets on the couch remained neatly folded on the back. The bed felt empty, even when both of you lied in it, because the distance between you two grew larger by the day.

But the sex?

It was better than it had ever been.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him too, but you were so paralyzed with fear that the word got stuck in your throat every time you tried to speak. Instead, you let him distance himself, knowing you’d already pushed him too far away. You continued to fall more in love with him, and he forced himself to fall out of love.

Then, you came home to him in bed, but he was not waiting for you. Instead of anticipating your arrival, so you could live as roommates rather than lovers, you found him wrapped up in another woman who gave him more than you could in the moment.

It was tearful, angry, and loud. Things were thrown, shattered on the floor, and your throat was raw from belittling the man you had only ever wanted to love.

You had finally gotten the karma you had rightfully deserved, and you finally understood the horrible pain you had inflicted on so many others.

The story finally ended the same way it started, but the two of you never recovered.

You moved out, but you were never able to rid yourself of Jake Kiszka. Intermittently, drunken and sad, you’d show up at each others doorstep and give in to your needs once more. He hated himself for hurting you, and you hated yourself for letting it get to that point. Blame was abundant, and regret plentiful, but one thing never changed; the fact that you two never fully fell out of love.

Too fearful of hurting each other the same way again, you fell back into old habits. You and Jake could never commit to each other, but could never stop loving one another enough to put an end to your toxic ways and commit to someone else. The second time around, it was much more difficult, and a lot messier. Your secret-keeping abilities had greatly decreased, and worst of all, everybody knew how you felt about each other.

When he left for his last tour, ready to release a new album and move forward in his career, you took it upon yourself to try and end the curse indefinitely. You blocked his number, removed him from your life in the most brutal ways possible, and you never spoke to him again. You vowed to start over, to be better, to love someone properly without the memory of Jake Kiszka tainting it before it could begin, and you did well.

For a while, at least. Until Josh sent you the damned message that landed you at his house that night.

With a boyfriend who you’d been with for long enough to take a bigger step, you crawled back to Jake like a dog who’d been lost without him. All it took was a single glance, and you knew Cole would meet the same fate of so many others, and you would meet the same fate that would inevitably ruin your life.

Your hands gripped the countertop of the bathroom tightly, holding yourself upright as the grief did all it could to break your bones. Your chest was heavy, your heart aching and your mind overrun with thoughts of a man you could never fully comprehend. He hurt you, and you hurt him, but never enough to put a stop to it for good. There was something deeper, something so incomprehensibly strong tying your souls together, even if you wanted to sever the bond. You could run to the ends of the earth, away from him and all of the mistrust and deceit the two of you had created, but you knew you would run so far that you would end up behind him, whispering in his ear as you pleaded to start anew.

You looked up at the mirror, trying to understand the woman staring back at you. She was a stranger, a shell of the woman who existed before meeting Jake. She was barren, cold, and tired. She wanted to love, but could not love anyone other than him, no matter how hard she tried. The bathroom door was cracked open ever so slightly, the glow of the hallway light illuminating your tired features, only worsening the sorrow you had for your former self.

As if on cue, the door creaked open by the push of a hand. The yellow glow of the lightbulbs were blocked by a body, casting a shadow over the already dim room. You did not need to look to know who it was; you could feel his presence without ever seeing his face, and it was just as beautiful as you remembered.

No matter how much you hated yourself for the relentless cruelty you inflicted and endured, it could never amount to the love you held for him in your heart.

“What are you doing up here, all by yourself?” The words were sickly sweet, settling in your spine and relieving you of all the tension that gathered over the course of the night. Without even looking at his face, you felt yourself stepping towards him, gravitating to the one thing that continually held you to the earth.

Jake closed the bathroom door behind him, locking the two of you inside together, looking at your sad expression with the utmost regret in his heart.

If only he could do it right, to take back all of the wrongs that got you to where you were, he would do it in a heartbeat, for you.

But you had always been better off as a dirty little secret, and he made a much better whore than he did a lover.

“Waiting for you to come and find me.” You quipped back, covering the sadness in your eyes with a soft smile. He stepped towards you, meeting you in the middle. He reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he gazed down over your face.

“You look like a fucking whore.” He rasped, his voice quiet but not hateful. His eyes raked over your body, taking in your low cut dress revealing more of you than he’d seen in a long time. His hand dropped from your face entirely, instead reaching forward and anchoring itself on your hip.

You leaned closer, your painted lips barely hovering over his own. The warmth of his breath on your skin was enough to make you forget about your sadness, and any remorse for your actions fled the minute he touched you.

“You don’t like it?” You asked, pushing your bottom lip into a pout. It grazed his own, sending a rush of emotion straight through the both of you. In an instant, you were one again, two bodies combined into a single entity after being forced apart.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head ever so slightly at your dramatics. “You know better than that.” His other hand rose, settling on the back of your neck. The pressure of his hand on the base of your skull caused your head to tilt upwards towards his just a little more, just enough for him to see your eyes. “I love it.”

“Did you miss me, baby?” You asked, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him alone. His cologne was suffocating, but it was so delicious that it helped you forget about the dying itself.

“Do I have to answer that?” He smirked, his body nearly completely pressed into your own. The space between you was non-existent, blatantly showcasing your lack of growth during your time apart.

Sustenance is stolen

“No, because I know you did.” Before the words even left your tongue, his lips were on yours in a heated reunion.

The sensation was euphoric, something you’d been searching for without ever realizing it. The whine that rattled your chest sent a shiver down his spine, only encouraging his bad behavior further. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, desperate for a drop of anything you could give him. You were the only woman in the world who could do such things to him, and despite pledging to stay away, the two of you would always end up in each other's arms. Whether it be morally right, or morally wrong, his arms were where you were always meant to be.

In an instant, you were no longer the woman who came to the party with a boyfriend who treated her well. That title was ripped from you, stolen from his grasp in exchange for a single moment alone with the man who forever plagued your mind. Just like every man before, he stole you from him like a thief in the night, never satisfied unless he could make you his own again. He knew the love you gave was addicting, and anyone who received it was dependent upon it. He did not commit such thievery for any reason unjust, but because he remembered the effect of your affections so well. Without you, he thought he would die, and because of that, he was willing to sacrifice any other man’s life so he could survive off your love alone.

The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue, making the moment all the more enticing. His touch was burning, but only ever pleasantly. Right and wrong did not exist; only he did, and you submitted to the knowledge that you lived solely to be his. You were not cut out to be a wife for a man who had his life together, and you were not meant to mother a child or start a family with a man who earned his keep honestly and loved sincerely. You were a mortal being who’s soul had been blackened with lust for an entity with more power than you could comprehend. You were born to play Jake’s twisted game, and over time, you had grown happy to be a part of it.

You were a whore, but only he knew how to pry that out of you. His words were laced with poison, his tongue made of opiate, his touch of ecstasy, and every action completed with intention to kill. You would not commit the crimes for another, because there was nobody else worth the effort.

“Taste just as sweet as I remember, Angel.” He withdrew a long breath, parting from you for just long enough to utter the praise.

“So good you couldn’t stay away.” You whispered, wishing he would kiss you again. It had been so long since you experienced such pleasure that you thought you might die without it.

“I can never stay away from you, sweetness.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and in his defense, it was.

He backed you up against the countertop, locking you in place with his hips. As he leaned his top half towards you, you leaned backwards to allow him easier access. His lips landed on the side of your neck, his kiss gentle and nowhere near what you remembered of him.

For a second, you let yourself believe there was some kind of sentiment behind his action, like he still cared and wanted to appreciate having you again.

Then, you pushed the thought from your head. The worst thing you could do to yourself was imagine that Jake cared about you, even if it was true.

His mouth traveled downward, drifting over the column of your neck and brushing over your collarbone. His tongue trailed over the soft skin, reminding himself of all he missed out on while he was gone. He was a man gone mad, driven to insanity just from the taste of you on his tongue. As tempted as he was to leave a mark behind, to claim territory that had always rightfully been his, he knew he couldn’t. He did not want to make the fallout any worse than it needed to be.

Instead of showing his true feelings, he spoke it into existence as an insult, inadvertently begging for you to validate his feelings on the matter.

“What would your little boyfriend think of you now?” He muttered, his face buried in your chest as his mouth ghosted over every available inch of skin. The hum of his voice against your body made you weak in the knees, but his words plagued you with guilt. You were not the person to get off on infidelity; in fact, before you met Jake, you despised it. You were not sleeping with him for any twisted desires or hidden kinks, but because you loved him too desperately to walk away. You would take him any way you could have him, even if it was despicable.

“The same as your girlfriend would think about you.” You reminded him, assuring he knew you were not the only one at fault. Your tone was breathy, your heart thudding against your ribs as his hands scoured your thighs. His fingertips settling just below the hem of the skirt, begging to go further but waiting for your permission.

“As if I’d ask her to be my girlfriend.” He scoffed, revolted just at the thought of it. His hands trailed higher, in search of the seam of your underwear. He seemed to freeze in place, his fingers inspecting your hips underneath the cool fabric of your dress. Slowly, his head raised from your chest, looking up at your face with a wondrous twinkle in his eye. He could not find what he was looking for, because they did not exist. His hands felt only the softness of your skin, without barrier as he smirked up at your rosy cheeks. “For me, sweetheart?”

“It’s always for you, Jake.” You averted your eyes, an unfamiliar feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure why you were so sheepish of the fact; both of you knew it all too well.

“You’re too good to me, angel.” He commended your efforts to please him only because they worked so well. He bunched the skirt of your dress in his hands, pushing it up past your hips to reveal your lack of underwear. The sight of you exposed in front of him was nearly too much for him to bear, but he persevered through the abundance of lust he felt for you in hopes of drawing the reunion out a little longer.

His fingers slipped between your legs, pushing them apart so he could continue his tyranny without interruption. You watched him closely, inspecting every move as if you needed it to survive. In some sick way, you did. You felt as though if you were deprived of his touch for too long, you would succumb to death and waste away to nothingness. His touch hovered above your heat, but he was unwilling to give you what you wanted so easily.

How foolish of you to believe that Jake would be kind, even after such a long absence.

“Please touch me, Jake. Waited so fucking long.” You whined, looking down at his hand between your thighs, taunting you with the power you knew he possessed.

“Oh no, sweetheart.” He shook his head, chucking at your neediness. “You don’t get to call the shots.” He said, his eyes flickering up to meet your own. “You left, remember? You blocked my number and went off and found someone else to take my place. You don’t get to complain about it after you finally decided to come back.”

Arrogance is potent

Oh, so he was mad. Good thing for him, you could play that game, too.

“Quit it with the fucking pity party, Jacob. We both know you’re not innocent, either.” From sweet to sour in a second, your entire demeanor changed in response to his ridiculous claims.

“You should see yourself.” He smirked, moving his hand a little closer to your aching cunt, but not close enough to touch you, yet. “Just as desperate as you were the last time I saw you, still so eager to be fucked while your boyfriend waits for you downstairs.” He spit the word as if it were a bitter taste on his tongue, easily telling you that the old game of cat and mouse had changed. He was going to fuck you, but he was angry that you had tried to move on despite him doing the exact same thing.

“Oh, you poor thing.” You seethed, feeling the rise of anger begin to take over your body, too.

Clearly, leaving silently had deprived you of the release you so desperately needed. There were too many loose ends, too much emotion hanging heavy on the both of you. You had waited nearly a year to get it all out, a year of suffering before you could even begin to release some of the pain you locked up so securely in your heart.

“Don’t tell me your feelings are hurt, Jacob.” You raised an eyebrow, condemning him for feeling any kind of sorrow over your new relationship.

“Over you? As if.” He sneered, the momentary sweetness from earlier fleeing him completely. Touching you again was euphoric, telling of all he still felt of you, and he didn’t mind letting you know he missed you. Unfortunately, it brought up a whole other whirlwind of emotions that were far less appealing.

“Still doing whatever you can to convince yourself you don’t care about me, hmm?” You snipped, taking the opportunity to slide your dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed before him. “We both know why you’re upset, Jake, and it’s not because you don’t care.”

His hands shot to your hips, lifting you on the counter and setting you down on the cool surface. Now that you were locked in, his own body ensuring you could not run, his hand was between your legs again and finally connected with your cunt.

“What is it then, if you think you fucking know everything?” His fingers sliding through your folds, gathering the wetness on his fingertips and circling around your clit made it hard to respond. The feeling was so grand, even if the action was small. It was something you’d been waiting for since he got on the plane that flew him away from you, severing the twisted ties that held you two together.

The most harrowing revelation came when you understood that it was even better than you remembered it to be.

“You’re j-jealous, Jacob. Just fucking say it.” You spat between waves of pleasure, looking down at his face with a distasteful look in your eye. He was silent for a moment, opting to watch his hand working at your cunt instead of responding to your accusations. Eventually, after an unusually long bout of silence from him, his eyes flickered back to your face.

Without him saying a word, you knew you hit the nail straight on the head.

“You think it was nice to see that you found someone to take my place after I was gone?” He whispered, his tone dangerously low. “That he’s been taking up space in your bed where I used to sleep?” He growled, the curl of his lip resembling him as more of a wild animal than a man who had been hurting on your behalf. He raised his other hand to your neck, the back of his fingers gently caressing the side of it as he let his words sink in. “Do you think I liked the way he was touching you, like he was protecting his territory? Like you haven’t always been mine?” The possessive claim caused you to clench around nothing, desperate for anything more than he was giving you.

His fingers closed around your neck, the grip loose but foreshadowing of all that was to come. His face was close to yours, so close that the tip of his nose brushed against your burning cheeks and his lips were ghosting over your own.

“Answer me.” He whispered, letting his middle finger slide down to your entrance, feeling his way through the arousal he was responsible for.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, almost finding yourself sympathetic for the pain he was masking with his cruel words.

“So why did you bring him here, sweetheart? To rub it in my face? To piss me off?” He asked, slipping his finger inside you and letting his thumb drift over your clit. He began a steady pace, clearly getting himself worked up as he made a point to berate you for your decisions. “Did you want me to get jealous so I would start a fight with him and show everyone how much I fucking care about you?”

“N-no, sir.” You whimpered, feeling the flutter of an orgasm begin to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The curl of his fingers was addicting, and with every pump of his hand he was hitting the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” He said, his fingers tightening around your neck a little further. He wasn’t ready to take it all the way, because he wanted to hear the truth before anything else. “You’re a little attention whore, and you wanted me to tell everyone out there that you’re mine. That’s all you ever fucking wanted, right? To be mine, and for everyone to know it?” The conversation was taking a dark turn, but you were too needy to complain about it. You thought if you kept talking, telling him what he wanted to hear, he would give you what you needed.

You were too stupid to realize you were only digging yourself a deeper hole, and the one you were already in was much too steep to climb out of.

“Yes, Jake. I did. That’s all I wanted.” You nodded, hoping he could feel your sincerity. You were not lying, because it was all you ever wanted. To be his and his alone was what you craved, with no one standing between you and no more secrets.

“So instead of telling me that, what did you do?” He snarled, moving his fingers a little faster. The change in pace caused your whole body to quiver. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and your mind was consumed with him entirely. He wanted you to confess, to tell him you understood the mistakes you made and atone for your sins. He needed it more than he ever needed anything else in his entire life.

“I-I left,” you choked out, feeling his fingers tighten on your pulse-point. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, so powerful it was pulsing behind your eyes. “I was scared. I was too scared to say it, Jake.” You wheezed out, feeling your head begin to swirl from the pleasure and the lack of blood flow.

“Yeah, you fucking left. You were too scared to say it, so you left me to feel like an idiot for saying it first.” You were no longer speaking of the significant others you had left downstairs, nor your absence in the months prior. He was talking about that same dreaded instance that replayed in your mind every single day.

He was talking about it.

Aloud, he spoke the words, for the first time since the war began.

“M’so sorry, Jake.” You pleaded, feeling so strung out that the apology seemed misplaced. Recounting your mistakes did not seem fitting with his fingers inside of you and an orgasm threatening you. “I felt it too. I should have said it.”

“But you didn’t. You never fucking did, because you only ever cared about yourself.” Your eyes shot open, suddenly being pulled from the euphoria taking over your entire body. Your nostrils flared, your pupils blazing with a fire that only he knew how to ignite. He knew he struck a nerve, but it was exactly what he was intending to do.

“You fucked someone else in our bed.” You seethed, your words weak from his palm pressing against your trachea. Even in your rage, your hips moved down on his hand in search for more.

Just like always, sex was the most important thing to both of you.

“Instead of talking to me, you fucked someone else and tried to play the victim!” Your words were stronger now, fighting against his power with ease.

You were the only person in the world who ever had enough courage to challenge him.

“I guess we finally got what was coming to us, then.” He muttered, scowling at the thought of the pain you two caused each other, scowling at pain you’d caused so many others. “You still haven’t learned your lesson, because you’re back here begging for more, doing the same thing to him.”

“You don’t get to chastise me when you’re doing the same thing.” You spat, enraged at his self-righteous response.

“I never said I was any fucking better, sweetheart.” He reminded you, a small, sick smile toying at the corners of his lips. As angry as you were, and as much as your chest ached, you still knew you couldn’t walk away from him. You were destined to want Jake in the most despicable and destructive ways until the very end. The only comfort was that you knew he was destined for the same fate.

Without removing his hand from your throat, he moved forward and captured you in a kiss, sealing the evil you spewed within you forever. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, your need for him animalistic and unnatural even after his cruel treatment. The only reason it did not bother you was because you knew you deserved it.

As he kissed you, his hand continued working at your cunt, pushing you to the brink of an orgasm with great ease. You let out a moan into his mouth, giving him a taste of the pleasure he was granting you. He drew in a sharp breath, the sound settling deep somewhere in his soul and making home there for eternity.

He parted from you, but not because he wanted to. He would kiss you until his lips turned blue and his lungs collapsed, happy to die at your hands. He broke away because of need, and one that much much stronger than his urge to kiss you. His grip loosened around your neck and his hand dropped to your hip. He withdrew his fingers from you, causing you to let out a hiss of displeasure at the sudden loss of the orgasm he was so close to giving you.

Before you could get a complaint out, he dropped to his knees before you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He guided one leg over his shoulder, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh as an apology for his sudden change in pace. At the knowledge of his next move, you were all but upset with his decision.

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, your head falling backwards as his tongue connected with your clit. Your hand reached for his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue ran through your folds.

The sweetness of your arousal was something he’d missed so dearly, something he could never find from another. It was more addicting than any substance and it was the very reason he could get himself out of bed in the morning. Being with you in such an intimate manner was the only reason his heart continued to beat, and the only thing he continued living for. His tongue circled your clit, continuing his torment in a whole new way.

With just a single swirl of his tongue, you felt like screaming his name, just to tell the whole world how good he could make you feel. It was almost comical, how you searched far and wide for someone who could make you feel a shred of what he could, and nobody could even come close to him. Your whole body had been begging for him since you stepped foot into the familiar home, and now that you had him, it still wasn’t enough. You needed everything all at once, things he could not give to you and things you could never ask for. You needed Jake far beyond any other person, and far beyond what was possible from him.

You needed him to be more than a dirty secret, a betrayal of trust in a bathroom at a house party. You needed him to be yours, but you knew he would never be.

Your desperation was immeasurable, and your entire body was aching for the orgasm he previously denied you of. It was a terrible feeling to have, knowing that your life was completely in his hands. Whatever he decided to do with it, you would go along happily so long as it pleased him. It was a terrible thing to know you would never truly belong to yourself, even if Jake was long gone from the world.

He was living for your shallow breathing, surviving off of your choked moans. Pleasing you was his favorite thing to do, even if he hated you in the moment. There was something so gratifying about his name on your tongue, and something so beautiful about how easy it was to make you feel good. He tried his best to ignore the incessant thoughts in his head about another man touching you the same way, about someone else believing that you were theirs.

Both of you knew you were Jake’s, and he was undeniably yours. The facade you put on and the games you played with others were just that; the only thing either one of you knew to be real was the way you felt for each other. It was painful, harmful and frustrating for the two of you to constantly avoid the way your hearts felt for each other, but it was all you knew. It made more sense for the two of you to deny and lie about your feelings than it ever did to fess up.

He pulled away from you, catching his breath as he looked up at your face from between your legs. “Come on, angel. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” He hummed, moving his thumb over your clit so he did not lose the momentum.

“You want to hear it, baby?” You breathed, looking down at him through your lashes. “Did you miss it?”

“Dreamt of it every goddamn night.” He said as a matter of fact. You let out a whine at the sound of his words, pushed even closer to the edge at the knowledge he thought of you just as much as you thought of him.

You were in no position to deny him anything, because he was giving you the entire world. As he leaned forward, his mouth connecting with your core once again, you let a long slur of curses fall from your lips. The moan that followed could only be classified as pornographic, carrying through the door and echoing into the hallway for everyone to hear.

He was doing exactly as you wanted; he was making it so the entire house could hear how much you meant to him, even if it was not in the way you so badly wanted from him. Still, it was enough to keep you on his hook, and that was the very thing he wanted to ensure.

“God, feels so fucking good, Jake.” You gasped, feeling your abdomen tense with a particularly strong wave of pleasure. He hummed against you, speaking encouragement for the show you were putting on for him.

You knew if he continued on like such, it would not be long until you descended into an orgasm. He was waiting, just as desperate as you were to feel you let the pleasure take hold. He brought his fingers to your entrance, slipping his middle and index finger inside of you to add to the sensation. You inhaled a sharp breath, feeling the curl of his fingers hit the same spot he found so easily just moments before.

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling yourself clench around his fingers as the knot in your belly threatened to snap. At the familiar sound, he took it upon himself to suction his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, adding more pressure to the already otherworldly feeling. Your grip tightened in his hair and your entire body was rigid as it prepared to be pushed over the edge. “Oh god,” you cried, your throat raw from the primal sound that tore through you.

Had his mouth not been so intently focused on you, you knew how sweetly he would have talked you through it. No matter how vicious or volatile he spoke to you, he never missed out on the opportunity to coddle you as you came. It was his favorite thing in the entire world, an excuse to show you the softness his heart had for you when he usually felt like he needed to keep it hidden. He continued pumping his fingers and moving his tongue, guiding you through the high with expert precision. As he noticed you relax against him, he tapered off his movements before pulling away completely.

He rose to his feet, already tossing his belt on the floor before he was even upright. Your mind was still swirling with the lingering euphoria, your skin electrified and your heart pounding in your chest. You watched him, wordless as he unbuttoned his pants after he threw his shirt to the ground alongside his belt. He freed himself from his boxers, the sight of him nearly too much for you to handle. You missed him so dearly and needed him so badly.

He stepped forward, landing between your legs as he gazed down at you. His lust-blown pupils turned his eyes near black, and he was aching for relief just like you had been minutes before. “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Say what?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He gave you a soft smile, void of any malice for a moment. He wanted to admire you beneath him, so desperate to have him. He wanted to enjoy the beauty of your heart being his despite being promised to someone else.

“You were just as jealous as I was, angel.” He said, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. You put all your trust in him, knowing that if he faltered, you might fall to the floor.

“So what?” You huffed, your cheeks turning red at his accusations. He smiled down at you, moving his hips forward ever so slightly. The tip of his cock rested against your entrance, already wet with your arousal.

“Do you really think I’d give her half of what I give you? That she means nearly as much to me as you do?” He questioned, his grip loosening slightly now that he had you in the position he wanted.

“No, baby.” You shook your head, wondering if tonight would be the night that things would change. “I know that.”

“You know she has nothing on you, beautiful.” His hand trailed up your side, the light touch tickling your skin as his fingers drifted over your stomach. “Nobody does.”

With that, his sweet sentiments had come to an end. He slammed his hips forward, the size of him coming as a surprise and filling you completely. A gasp left your lips as your tried to recover from the shock and adjust to him again, realizing that in the time spent away from him, nobody felt as fulfilling as he did.

To him, no one could compare, either.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He muttered, clearly strung out from the pleasure too. In just a moment, he was back where he was all of those months ago, in love with you and desperate to hear you say it back. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

His praise was exhilarating, and his love was blissful. As he began a slow pace with his hips, the grief was almost overwhelming the pleasure. You wondered why it couldn’t feel this good with him all of the time, and you dreaded him walking away after the night came to an end.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for a moment, likely mourning the same fate that the two of you so often fell into. Loving you was all he wanted to do, but he was so afraid of falling again that he convinced himself he wasn’t already long past in love.

His tongue danced over yours, the taste of his sin too much to bear as your chest began to ache. You wanted to remain strong, to carry on with the one thing that the two of you were good at, but it felt so different than it did all the times that came before. The emotion you had neglected to acknowledge was finally pushing to the surface, angry about being ignored.

It wasn’t the right time, but you feared the right time may never come. You had to stop being afraid, to find the courage he once had and utilize it.

You could feel it too, even in his cruel words and his harsh insults. The love was there, lingering in every touch and screamed in every kiss. You could not allow yourself to remain in the same incessant cycle of pain, but you could not will yourself away from him. There was only one way to change your ways, but it was the hardest thing you had ever done. Loving someone so completely, no matter the circumstance, was terrifying. Saying it aloud only made it all the more real.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss and in turn, breaking you from your internal brooding. He looked down over your face, his hips still rocking against yours. The pleasure in the pit of your stomach had nothing on the yearning of your heart, and he could see it in your eyes. He had to look away, to hide his heart from you so you could not break it again. He feared the longer he stared, the closer he was to confessing the same thing all over again.

In a moment of desperation, he withdrew from you entirely, letting his hands settle back on your hips. Before you could complain, he pulled you from the countertop entirely, landing you on your feet in front of him. He had to change the pace, to harness that same carnal desire and rank it more important than how he felt for you emotionally.

Without a word, he spun you around, forcing your top half down towards the counter. The cold surface was a shock to your system, especially after growing comfortable with the warmth of his body against you. He pulled your hips back towards him, positioning himself at your entrance again.

“I think I’m being far too nice to you, sweetheart.” He muttered, reaching up and grabbing a fistful of his hair. “If I remember correctly, you only like to be fucked like a whore.”

This time, when the insult slipped past his lips, it did not feel good nor did it prompt any wave of arousal. It hurt, and it hurt achingly bad.

Still, knowing you were not strong enough to utter the proclamation of love, you went along with it despite the ache in your chest.

“Yes, sir.” You hummed. Despite the sadness of the change of position, you were still excited at the idea of fucking him. If you could not love him, you knew it was the next best thing.

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, knotting your hair around his fist as he pulled your head off the counter. He leaned down, his lips hovering just over your ear as he continued at the agonizingly slow pace.

“Just like this, sweetheart?” He asked, making sure that when his hips connected with yours he added a little extra force. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, baby.” You whined, the intimacy of the moment sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot on your neck, his voice barely above a whisper but loud and clear to you. As you answered, he let his teeth sink into your earlobe, the light pressure prompting a flutter in your stomach. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him in further and locking him there indefinitely.

Despite the pace being slow, the power behind his hips was what mattered, and with every re-entry, he added just a little more force than the last. As his cock brushed against cervix, your knees went weak and your stomach twisted into a knot. You had no idea how he could make you feel so good, but you knew you never wanted him to stop.

“He can’t fuck you like this, sweetheart.” He whispered, his lips still hovering above your ear. “He can’t make you feel this good.” He continued, his hand on your hip tightening with every word. He was mindful, careful not to leave any bruises despite his desire to. “Can he, angel?”

“F-fuck no, Jake.” You shook your head, feeling him press a kiss to the sweet spot just below your ear.

“Right, baby.” He hummed his approval, his words muffled due to his lips on your skin. “Nobody can make you feel as good as I do because you’re mine. Do you fucking understand me?”

“God, yes.” You nodded against his hold, desperate to agree with him on that fact. No matter what, you were undeniably his.

“Did you think of me when he was fucking you, angel?” He asked, his tone growing stronger by the second. He was pissing himself off the longer he thought about it, but he was willing to make that sacrifice in order to chastise you for your decisions. “Did you wonder when I would come home, when I’d come back to take care of you?

“I did, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the effects of his presence finally begin to take hold. You were strung out on pleasure, at your end already despite him being far from done with you. You were tired, but your body would not accept the fact. You thought if he stopped, you might die from the withdrawal from him. “I thought about it every fucking day.” You confessed. “I needed you, because nobody else knows how to do it right.”

“Exactly, sweetheart.” He hummed an agreement, happy to hear it from you. “You knew I’d never leave you behind. You knew I couldn’t fucking stay away.” Even if he wanted to, he never could. The confession was heavy, despite the fact already being known to you both. “God, what do you do to me?” He growled, the slam of his hips rocking your thighs forward into the countertop. Another groan tore through your chest, vibrating your entire body as he continued to fuck into you.

“Jake,” you warned, feeling your legs begin to wobble and your mind start to haze.

“I know, baby.” He crooned, placing another sloppy kiss to the exposed portion of your neck. “Being such a good girl for me. Just hold on a little longer.” At that, you let out another whine, loud and impatient, clearly unhappy about his plea to wait. In response, he roughly pulled your head to the side by your hair, craning it upwards a little further so he could press his lips to yours.

The kiss was enough to satiate your undying need for him, but the taste of his lips made the sensation in your stomach grow tenfold. The only difference was, now you could not warn him about the climax creeping up on you.

Luckily for you, he did not need to be warned about anything. He knew you better than anyone or anything, and he could feel how close you were just from your body alone.

“Oh, angel, you make it so fucking hard to say no to you.” He let out a long sigh, breaking the kiss as he let his hips rest against the curve of your ass. He had to slow down or he feared he might let go, too.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You gave him a weak smile, your eyes heavy as you looked back over your shoulder at him.

“With you? Always good, even if it should be bad.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightened up again.

His hand remained in your hair as he took a deep breath, calming himself down before beginning again. The feeling of him moving inside you again after the short break was intense, amplified by a million. Although he believed stopping might allow the two of you more time, as soon as his hips reached the same speed as before, you were both just as close to the end. He couldn’t deny you the orgasm again, and he could not hold himself back. After so long without you, he needed it more than he needed food to survive.

“Can you cum for me, baby?” He asked, pushing your head down into the counter. Your cheek was squished against the surface, and his hips were moving with such strength that it made your head spin. There was no question that you could reach the climax, because you had been doing nothing but trying to hold back.

Instead of responding, your eyes closed and the burning in your stomach reached a whole new level. You had never gone so long without him, and now you had no tolerance for the pleasure that came with his company. A choked moan filled the air, letting him know that you were doing exactly what he asked of you.

His hand on your hip tightened as he pushed you further down on the counter. “That’s my girl.” He muttered, looking down at your face as you descended into pleasure. Your legs trembled and your lungs burned, but you were on top of the world. You felt better than you ever had, and likely better than you ever would. It had nothing to do with the sex, nor the stimulation of him inside you, but rather just the thought of being his.

You managed to sing his name through the mess of moans and curses, the sound heavenly to his ears. He waited so long to hear you say it like that again, and it sent him over the edge just the same as you. As you reached the high together, the world felt right again, like coming home after an inexplicably long and tiresome day. He spilled his release inside of you, feeling you relax against him as he slowed his thrusts. He leaned down, pulling your head to the side with much more caution than last time, and kissed you with all the love he could muster in his whole body.

You stayed like that for an abnormal amount of time, neither of you keen on the idea of parting from one another. Eventually, he broke the kiss, looking down over your face with adoration in his eyes. He did his best to snap himself out of it, knowing he shouldn’t be feeling such things about you, but unable to stop. He straightened up again, making sure to admire the entire scene of you below him, too fucked out to form a single thought. Then, his eyes traveled to the mirror, catching a glimpse of your position from a whole new perspective. He swallowed hard, his jaw tensed as he let out a shaky breath.

“How am I supposed to let him take you home tonight after seeing you like this, sweetness?” He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When he realized your head was pushed too close to the countertop for you to see too, he used his grip on your hair to pull you upwards.

Staring back at you was a mess of the woman you walked into the bathroom as. Your cheeks were streaked with mascara, your skin red and blotchy and your hair a mess. Beside your reflection, you could see him watching you, studying you. His eyes were fixated on your face, taking in every detail you were noticing. To him, you were not a mess; you were the most beautiful thing to ever grace the earth. The mess just made it all the better, especially knowing he was the one who caused it.

‘I don’t want to go home with him, Jake. I want to stay here with you.’ You thought it, but did not dare say it aloud. The flash of sadness in your eye was apparent to him, for he had the same one in his.

What I see is unreal

I've written my own part

Eat of the apple, so young

I'm crawling back to start

If you did not speak now, you never would. Could you remain the same forever, or did you need to change to survive? You did not know what to do, or how to feel. If you said it, would it even mean anything, or would it be a waste of breath? He did not want to hear the words a year later; he needed it way back when the two of you were curled up together on the couch, when he used every last ounce of courage to say it first. He didn’t need to hear it now. He didn’t need you fucking up his life again. He didn’t need you.

But if he did not need you, why did he abandon his date in search of you, in search of what you used to be?

There was no more anger between you. Your eyes locked together in the mirror, housing a silent battle of uncertainty as you watched each other's every move. If you spoke the truth, the world would change indefinitely, but you did not know if it would be for better or for worse.

Oh, what did it fucking matter anymore?

You had to say it, to know that you exhausted every option to keep the man your heart sang hymns about. You could deal with the consequences later, because right now, you both needed to hear it.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, knowing there was some kind of war being waged in your head. He was afraid, not of what you wanted to tell him, but because he thought you wanted to end the constant debacle between you.

You could deal with the aftermath later, but you were done being sad. He waited so long, just the same as you, and you had to say it.

I repent tomorrow

Hey ah na na tomorrow

I suspend my sorrow

“I don’t want to go home with him, Jake.” Your voice was strong despite your worry the words would not make it past your lips.

“Then don’t.” He could not help the spark of hope that ignited in his chest. He rested inside of you, terrified to move as he awaited what you would say next.

“You mean it?” Say it, or forever hold your peace, coward.

“You know there’s always a place for you in my bed.” He was unsure if he was taking your confession in the way you meant it, but by god he hoped that was what you meant. Your eyes caught his again, holding him captive with your stare. There was not enough courage in the world for you to say it, but you could not hide it any longer.

“I love you too, Jake.” You said, your tone strong and your intent true. Nearly a year later, you finally said it.

The world was still. The commotion outside of the doorway stopped, and your relentless thoughts wasted away to nothing. For a moment, you even believed your heart ceased to beat.

“I love you, Jake. I should have said it a long time ago, but I’m saying it now, and it has to count for something.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, statue-like as he stood behind you. For a moment, you thought you might die from the pure grief that encased your heart. You waited too long. It was too late. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I should have said that a long time ago.”

Neither of you moved, and neither of you knew what to do next.

You got what you thought he could never give, and he heard what he feared you might never say.

Was it over? Was that it? Did you end the curse that had plagued you since the very beginning? Had you repented enough for the rottenness of your actions?

Could you really have him with no secrets and no more lies? Could you love him without restraint, without any pain?

“Let me love you, Y/N. Let me do it right this time.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes never leaving his face. “Please, Jake. The world hasn’t felt right since that night, until now. I want to try again, and I don’t want to be a terrible person anymore.”

Carefully, he withdrew from you, trying to limit the mess as he helped you up off the counter. He turned you to face him, bringing his hand to your cheek to swipe away a tear that escaped your eye.

“I have been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that, sweetheart. I would be a fucking idiot if I gave it up twice.” You lifted your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry I was so stupid.” You said, reaching out and wrapping your arms around him.

The hug was simple, but to the two of you, it was everything.

“I was stupid, Y/N.” he said, burying his head in your hair. He took a deep breath, finally feeling the tension in his body fade away into nothing. The smell of your shampoo, and more specifically, the way his pillows used to smell when he was sleeping next to you, was his favorite thing in the whole world, and he’d been deprived of it for far too long. “I don’t want to be stupid anymore. I just want you.”

“I was always yours, Jake.” You whispered, closing your eyes as you rested your cheek on his bare chest. “From the minute I met you, until my very last day on earth.” He did not need to reply for you to know he was yours, too.

Finally, after writing your own wretched tale, you had grown enough to rewrite it and atone for all of the mistakes you made before.

Finally, you could love him without having to worry about anything else, without pain, and without suffering.

Finally, he was yours, and only yours, like it always should have been from the very beginning.

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loverofstufflof · 30 days

Text

Black Myth: Wukong rant because I’m just… so tired of you people.

I hate the community this game has cultivated. I hate looking through the tags and seeing people tearing each other apart over a game based on a story I love.

There’s two stances:

Those who say that merely interacting with the game is in support of all the terrible things the developers have (allegedly) done. Who parade accusations that many have stated were mistranslated and that the situation is far more complicated than it appears.

Those who mock the former by making a straw man of their concerns while simultaneously displaying their misogyny, racism, homophobia, and general traits that make it clear they’ve never touched a woman in their life.

One is slightly more tolerable than the other. Neither make me feel welcome in enjoying this project I’ve been looking forward to for years.

I will be talking more about purple, because I don’t speak Chinese, and feel that I have no authority speaking too much on orange.

Purple people are beyond insufferable.

I think that most of this came from a Screen Rant review that listed one of the game’s flaws as “a lack of diversity.” This is an accurate analysis, and has been warped beyond belief.

I can understand the outrage… a bit. When playing a game surrounding Chinese culture, in which you play as an inhuman character fighting equally inhuman enemies, it doesn’t make too much sense to request racial representation. And when there isn’t any romance, representation for sexual orientations also wouldn’t work. Including anything in those merit would feel forced and out of place, I agree.

But you wanna know what the reviewer wrote?

She was concerned about the lack of women.

She felt unwelcome when playing a game made by rumoured misogynists because there were no women at all.

And she explicitly said that the game was still enjoyable despite this.

She gave it such a “low score” (3/5) because of the performance issues and repetitiveness. By her own rating, the game was listed as ��Worth a shot despite its flaws.”

Everything got so bad they had to take down her name for her safety.

People in the purple category took this review to mean that the “woke left” was “pushing an agenda” and “trying to cancel this game for not having pansexual nonbinary black people.” Which, as I’m sure you can now understand, was not the case. The boycott surrounding this game is purely based on accusations targeted towards the developers, not the game’s content.

Of course, I don’t expect many of the aforementioned people in this category to care too much. I’ve seen the Steam reviews where they praise the lack of women. I’ve read the Reddit threads where they feel grateful that there’s “finally a company who understands the male authority.” I’ve scrolled through post after post on Tumblr that “no one would want to play a game where females jiggle their tits around while doing nothing.”

That last one gets me. It’s really telling what you can learn about a person when they say things like that.

The point is, these people make me feel very unwelcome in a community that previously made me most comfortable.

So let’s recap:

The people who I would find community with are portraying the mere interest in this game as a sin that’s worthy of being blocked and shamed over, and the people who are actually in this community remind me why I’m terrified to walk alone.

I have a lot more that I want to say on this, but I don’t really have the words quite yet, and still need to do a fair amount of research (which I probably won’t be doing because holy shit I’m so done with this). Maybe I’ll come back and add some more, but for now I just might block the tag entirely.

I just feel shitty ‘s’all ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

#this is a cry for help can a normal fan please find this post and mutual me #note that this post is about extremists and if you’re an orange person who’s cautiously enjoying the game despite the drama #I’m still vibing with you #it’s just that apparently the only people in this community are extremists #I also wanna make it clear I’ve been exclusively watching play throughs so I haven’t given a dime to the devs #black myth wukong #why can’t this fandom do silly things. like point out that the acronym is BMW and draw monkeys in cars

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violetsteve · 2 years

Text

If you prefer, this is also posted on AO3

After the almost end of the world, Steve decides he’s going to put the moves on Eddie Munson.

Robin may or may not laugh in his face when he announces it.

The thing is, despite Robin almost laughing him out of the building, the thing is Steve is still figuring out his sexuality. He knows he likes girls, he’s always liked girls, but then Robin pointed out that maybe he couldn’t figure out what he wanted because he wasn’t looking in the right place and Steve realized she was right . Sure, Robin had meant more of a ‘ stop going after girls who are traditionally pretty and from well off families and try going out with girls whose company you actually enjoy’ and not a ‘ hey, dudes are kinda hot, too, right? It was real weird how transfixed you seemed to be on Eddie Munsons lips while we were actively fighting demon monsters,’ but Steve has always been good at reading in between the lines. Or, more like inserting what he wants in the gaps of what people leave unsaid.

So, no, Robin did not tell Steve to open his eyes and realize that straight guys don’t exactly think about how another guys lips will look slick with spit, how they’ll feel under the pressure of his thumb, what the sweet satisfaction of them partying so readily under his will feel like, but she did tell him to broaden his horizons and honestly, they were basically the same thing.

Which is why Steve feels like she should be more supportive of his plans to woo Eddie Munson onto his couch—and maybe, if he’s feeling ambitious, eventually into his bed.

“Robin, come on . I’m serious!” Steve will never admit, even under Russian torture again, that he whines it. He’s coming to Robin as a sounding board, not so she can make fun of him. If he wants someone to make fun of his lack of prowess, he would go talk to Dustin.

Or, yeah on second thought no. He’s not actually sure his ego could take that much of a hit at the moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” she gasps, gripping the—newly rebuilt and polished—family video counter in front of her. “I just—Steve, that’s-that’s so ambitious . You literally just came out to me less than a week ago and you’re already talking about getting with a boy. And Eddie Munson at that.”

Steve scowls at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that he knows looks bitchy, but he can’t help it because—

“Don’t say his name like that. He literally almost died to save us all. He’s not fucking dirty .”

Robin immediately sobers, a guilty, but irritated look on her face. “That’s not how I meant it, Steve, and you know it. Don’t get bitchy at me just because you’re feeling sensitive about your feelings for a boy.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Steve isn’t really angry at her for laughing—Robin makes fun of him at least 7 times a day, Steve would be more concerned if she didn’t make at least one joke about this—and he isn’t even mad at her for putting a weird emphasis on Eddie’s name. No, he’s all twisted up about his feelings and he’s never been good at expressing them, let alone talking about them. He’s feeling self conscious and his skin is prickling with embarrassment and the easiest thing to do is lash out about it.

“That’s not—“ Steve cuts himself off, looking away from Robin as his shoulders slump. “You’re right,” he mumbles. “Sorry. I just. I wanna fucking kiss him so bad , Rob, and that freaks me out a little.” Steve untucks one of his arms to scrub a hand over his face, leaving the other one tucked around his waist to protect his vulnerable bits.

“Hey,” Robin murmurs, closing the distance between them so she can settle her hands on his shoulders. “I get it. Do you think I acted like a sane person the first time I realized I wanna kiss girls? I think I cried for a week. Kerry the stuffed Koala had to go to therapy because of all of my crying. It was a serious time in the Buckley house.”

Steve smiles behind his hand. He loves her so much. She’s really his best friend. He’s so thankful for her.

“You still cry about kissing girls,” Steve says, rather than admitting any of that. She already knows she’s smart, Steve doesn’t need to add any more to her ego. It just gives her more brain to bully him with.

He drops the hand covering his face to look at her. “Only now it’s more of a,” Steve puts on a high pitched, whiny voice, “‘why do I have to go to work when I could be spending all day making out with my girlfriend.’” He brings both of his hands up to clasp in front of his chest, batting his eyelashes at her in a fake-coy way.

Robin shoves at him, catches him off guard and he goes stumbling backwards into the counter, laughing the whole way.

“Shut up , you absolute dickhead, ” she all but screeches, reaching out to give his chest another shove for good measure. “You literally have no room to talk considering you started this shift by announcing your intentions to, quite literally, crawl into Eddie’s lap and kiss him stupid . That’s almost verbatim what you said, Steve.”

Steve’s still chuckling as he rights his position a little, leaning back against the counter more comfortably. “Yeah, I did say that.” He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth before he continues with, “I really, really wanna sit on his lap and kiss him until he can’t focus, Rob.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but it’s more fond than annoyed. Steve can tell—he’s been on the receiving end of about 90 percent of Robin’s eye rolls, he’s getting good at distinguishing the emotions behind each one.

“I still can’t believe you have a crush on Eddie Munson of all people. He’s so weird ,” She laughs, but Steve can tell that that, too, is fond. Robin and Eddie have a weird friendship. They geek out over obscure instruments and the nuance of tacky movies together. Steve doesn’t get it, but he enjoys watching how expressive both of them can be. He once watched Eddie climb onto a table while arguing with Robin about one of their movies. Robin followed him up shortly after, though, so Steve isn’t sure why she thinks the weird is limited to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and he’s man enough to admit that it sounds dreamy . God, he’s pathetic over Eddie. It scares the shit out of him. “You know, the other day he gave me a rock. It wasn’t even, like, a cool rock. It was literally just a rock. When I asked him why he just shrugged and was like ‘I dunno, it made me think of you.’”

Robin’s grin grows. “Oh my God. What did you do with the rock?”

Steve shoots her a disgruntled look. “What do you think I did with the rock? I put in my pocket and then brought it home and set it on my nightstand. Eddie gave it to me, I wasn’t just going to throw it on the ground again. That’s rude.”

Robin absolutely cackles at this, there’s no other way to describe it. She’s awash in glee as she claps her hands together a few times. “ Jesus , Steve. You’ve got it so bad for this man.”

“God,” Steve mutters, running a hand over his face again. “That’s not even the worst part, Rob. He like. He grabs his utensils with his whole fist when he eats. It’s so weird, and it’s so messy . It makes fuck all sense. He doesn't even grab a pencil that way. Just his fucking eating utensils .

“And he walks so chaotic. He just randomly breaks into a sprint. Just starts fucking running out of nowhere. And he bounces. As if the random running wasn’t enough, he just fucking starts jumping. Sometimes he jumps at me, and it’s all I can do to actually catch him before he eats dirt. Or- or he’ll just. Spin. Just twirl in the middle of the sidewalk while still carrying on a conversation.” Steve slumps, his back getting slightly scraped against the counter as he sinks to his butt.

“The man has zero regard for personal space and he always makes way too intense of eye contact. Sometimes he’ll use one of his character voices in the middle of an otherwise totally normal conversation, and he’s always climbing on things. He’s loud and he’s weird and I wanna wrap my fingers around the collar of his shirt, shove him against a wall and then shove my tongue down his throat , jesus christ. ” Steve buries his face in his knees, his mind playing an endless loop of Eddie smiling with those stupid lips that are always cherry red and raw from his constant gnawing. Steve wants to bite them for him.

“Oh, my God, Steve.” Robing sinks down to sit across from him. “This is pathetic . I, like, knew you had a crush on Eddie but this is like. Dangerous territory. Like, the next step might be the L word level territory.”

Steve makes a small squeaking noise, his face still buried in his knees. Robin’s words hint at something that Steve is so not ready to admit to himself yet. She’s hitting way too close to something Steve has been avoiding actively and vehemently since he realized the attraction he feels for boys is decidedly not of the straight variety.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. Then, like the angel she so clearly is, Robin says, “So, wanna tell me about operation ‘crawl into Eddie’s lap and makeout with him?’”

Steve laughs, the tightness in his chest slowly easing. He lifts his head, and then spills his guts.

***

The plan starts simply. First, he needs to get Eddie alone . No annoying tagalongs to potentially interrupt.

It’s easier said than done. For two days straight, Steve asks Eddie to hang out and, somehow, one of the kids manages to weasel into their plans.

It’s driving Steve nuts.

He casually asks Eddie to watch a movie, give him a proper education like him and Robin are always going on about, and Dustin overhears and invites himself.

He asks Eddie to go for a walk, makes an excuse about it being gorgeous outside while he plots ways for the walk to end right outside his house, isn’t that neat, but Lucas and Max overhear and suddenly it’s a group affair.

He asks Eddie to get milkshakes, plans to lure him back to his house with the promise of complete control of Steve’s record player, but El overhears and asks if she can tag along and Steve just can’t look into her big, earnest eyes and tell her no. He’s not a monster.

So they get milkshakes with El, and it’s fun . Of course it’s fun, but Steve is getting desperate . It’s been a little over a week since he hatched his mad plan with Robin and he’s about to start climbing the walls with anticipation.

It doesn’t help that Eddie has a mother fucking oral fixation. At every opportunity he’s either putting stuff in his mouth or chewing on something. It’s fucking rude, is what it is. It’s like he doesn’t even realize Steve is suffering.

It all finally comes to a head a full week and four days after his conversation with Robin on the floor of Family Video. He’s stopping by Eddie’s house to grab something Dustin left behind because Dustin asked and he’s nice . It’s maybe also because it’s a great excuse to see Eddie, but Dustin sure as shit doesn’t need to know that that’s the sole reason Steve said he will.

Eddie is slightly bent over, riffling through his Dungeons and Dorks stuff, and Steve is trying so hard to pretend like he’s not entirely focusing on his ass and the line of exposed skin above his belt. If Eddie turns around right now, he’s busted for sure.

Eddie’s just mentioned some kind of dragon when he lets out a triumphant noise, his story coming to an abrupt halt as he spins on his heel to face Steve.

“Aha!” He exclaims, thrusting a notebook in Steve's direction.

Steve automatically reaches out to take it, his fingers brushing over the backs of Eddie’s in the switch over. Eddie bites his bottom lip at the contact, avoiding Steve’s gaze, and suddenly all Steve is thinking about is his mouth.

Steve debates with himself for a moment. This isn’t really how he planned to seduce his way into Eddie Munson’s lap, but he’s adaptable. If the years of almost apocalypses have taught Steve anything, it’s that sometimes you have to make do with what you have.

And what Steve has is an empty trailer save the two of them, and a couch less than ten feet away. He’s got the object of his affections standing in front of him, and Steve decides to adapt.

He wets his own lips, stepping towards Eddie. His hand is still holding Eddie’s hostage over the notebook.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmurs, ducking his head so he can look up through his lashes.

Steve watches Eddie’s breath catch, watches him stutter over his next sentence.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his eyes flicking between Steve’s eyes and his mouth at a rapid speed. “Of c-course. I mean, it happens. Kids forget things. I’m sure Dustin just wanted to, like, go over the last session's notes for anything he missed.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees, taking another step into Eddie’s space. He’s aware that he’s primarily staring at Eddie’s lips, which is probably rude, but he can’t help it. They’re wet and shiny and Steve has been thinking about them an obsessive amount for the last week and a half.

“We’re, um, I-I mean they’re going against a red dragon,” Eddie continues. Steve’s aware of this. It’s what Eddie had been telling him when he’d found the notebook. “They’re very powerful, almost impossible to defeat.”

“Are they?” Steve’s only half following the conversation, but that’s not saying much. He has a hard time keeping up with the DnD talk on a regular day.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie says, and then he’s off. He starts spitting words so fast Steve wouldn’t be able to keep up even if he were paying complete attention.

“Eddie,” Steve says, but Eddie is still talking, still mumbling along about the red dragon.

“Eddie,” Steve tries again, but it’s like he’s shouting in an empty room. He knows Eddie knows he’s talking to him, can tell by how wide Eddie’s eyes are, how he’s not even trying to not slur his rapidfire words together. If Eddie was talking about dragons for the hell of it, he’d be gesticulating and probably climbing on things. As it were, he’s got his gaze fixed on Steve, eyes comically wide as his words rush together—barely getting one out before the next slew rush into it in a truly amusing word traffic jam.

Eddie’s nervous , and fuck if that doesn’t thrill Steve to his core. Steve takes the final step towards him to completely close the distance and—

Eddie takes a step back, his words stuttering along with Steve’s heart in his chest. He wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting Eddie to back away from him so quickly. Steve has half a second to be hurt, to mentally kick himself because get a fucking clue , Harrington, before he catches Eddie’s eyes darting down to his lips, his tongue unconsciously swiping along his lower lip before his gaze skitters back up to Steve’s.

And, oh, yeah , Steve has him exactly where he wants him. Eddie isn’t stepping back because he doesn’t want Steve. No, he’s stepping back because he’s prey . Steve is stalking towards him with a single minded focus and Eddie is skittering backwards like a scared rabbit—bouncing back step by step as Steve approaches until his back collides with the wall. That, finally, seems to knock all their air out of Eddie. The dragon conversation dies on his lips as Steve finally—fucking finally —closes the remaining distance between them. He reaches out, cupping Eddie's cheek in one hand, his jaw in the other, all while pressing up against Eddie from hip to chest.

“ Eddie, ” Steve murmurs, his eyes hooding. This time, Steve feels Eddie’s breath catch, feels the way a tremor works its way through Eddie’s body. He’s staring up at Steve with wide, wild eyes. He looks like a deer caught in a trap—ready to break his leg trying to get away if he needs to.

Steve isn’t sure why that makes him feel a little wild, but it does.

He stretches his thumb out to swipe across Eddie's bottom lip—already bitten and red from Eddie’s nervous chewing. God , it drives Steve crazy . He has a half-hysterical thought about offering his own up for Eddie to chew on when he’s nervous. Eddie makes him crazy .

Steve licks at his own lips as he watches the way his thumb catches and drags and the swollen skin of Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie’s trembling in earnest now, and Steve feels his pulse thundering in his ears. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad his fucking toes are curling with the anticipation.

He flicks his gaze up, away from Eddie’s lips up to his eyes and he has to fight back a groan. Eddie looks fucking wrecked and Steve hasn’t even kissed him yet. His eyes are wide and wild, his pupils blown and there’s a scarlet flush in his cheeks. He’s fucking panting against Steve’s face and he can’t take it any more. He really, really can’t. He has to kiss him—screw anticipation, screw driving Eddie past the brink. He needs and he needs now.

“ Eddie, ” Steve practically gasps . “Eddie, please.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his body unconsciously rocks forward, seeking even more of Eddie out. “Wanna kiss you so bad, please say I can, please—”

And before Steve can get another plea out, Eddie’s slamming his head forward with enough force to knock their teeth together in an uncomfortable clack ; enough force that their noses knock together in a painful way.

But Steve doesn't care . He doesn’t care because Eddie’s lips are on his and he feels like there’s liquid fire coursing through his veins. He feels lit up from the inside out as Eddie finally, finally touches him back. He fists a hand in the back of Steve’s shirt, the other winding through Steve’s hair and fuck it’s finally happening. After night upon night of imagining what kissing Eddie Munson would be like, Steve’s finally doing it.

And goddamn is he doing it. Eddie’s lips are slick against his, hot and encouraging . They slide together in a way that has Steve’s mind going blissfully blank, his only thoughts being hotwetyesmore.

He kisses him messy, lips moving together in a too fast pace that neither of them can keep track of; bruising force in the way their lips slide, spit sliping from their parted lips in a slow trickle that has Steve’s fingers curling against Eddie’s jaw.

He uses that hand to tilt Eddie’s head up slightly, angling it enough that Steve can get his bottom lip between his own and suck slightly. The first slid of Eddie’s lip between Steve’s own has him seeing fucking stars .

A punched out groan breaks free from Eddie’s throat and he rocks forward into Steve, seeking more . The hand in the middle of his back pulls and Steve is helpless to do anything but push Eddie more firmly into the wall. He knows it has to hurt, has to be restricting Eddie’s breathing with how tightly they’re pressed together, but he can’t take enough focus away from Eddie’s mouth to care . Plus, if Eddie minds that much he wouldn’t be pulling Steve closer .

Eddie breathes a wet gasp into Steve’s mouth when he takes his teeth to the lip still tucked between his own, and Steve can’t help but let out a gasp of his own. Eddie tastes fucking phenomenal. He can taste the lingering tobacco on his tongue, the salty tang of the popcorn he must have had earlier, and just the overwhelming taste of Eddie. Hot, sweet, fucking sublime. Steve‘s never been a particularly religious man, but he feels like he’s drinking heaven straight from Eddie’s mouth. With every gasp, every moan, every brush of Eddie’s tongue, he feels one step closer to absolution. It’s addicting .

God , he wants more. He wants Eddie’s hands all over him, on bare skin. He wants those deft musicians fingers to snake into his hair, tug a bit. He wants Eddie over him and under him and—

He stills suddenly, a thought occurring to him. The line that had triggered this whole thing—his announcement to Robin back in Family Video—and suddenly there’s a burning need in Steve’s gut. God, he needs to sit in Eddie’s lap right now. Needs to feel his strong thighs under him, needs Eddie’s hands on his ass and his tongue in his mouth.

“ Fuck, ” Steve bites out when he pulls back. Tearing his mouth away from Eddie’s is so much harder than it has any right to be.

Eddie’s staring at Steve with glassy eyes, his lips shiny and red and oh fuck even his chin is glistening with their spit. Steve wants to devour him.

“Go sit on the couch,” Steve says, and is pleasantly surprised that his voice only sounds a little rough, a little shaky.

“What?” Eddie croaks out, staring at Steve for a beat. Then, miracle of miracles, he does it. He stares at Steve the whole time, the glassy look getting a little clearer, and Steve thinks that simply will not do.

The minute Eddie is seated, Steve’s crawling his way into his lap. He wedges his knees into the crease at the back of the couch, shuffling as far forward as he can so their chests are pressing together, their clothed crotches aligning. Then, without giving Eddie a chance to adjust, he drops down, pressing the full weight of his ass into Eddie’s thighs and, by proximity, his dick.

“ Jesus Christ ,” Eddie swears, his hands shooting out to grab at Steve’s ass on instinct. Steve almost giggles . It’s exactly what he wants.

“You can just call me Steve,” he mutters, and before Eddie can reply, he’s sweeping in and claiming Eddie’s lips again. Eddie huffs against his mouth, but let’s Steve have the last word. Steve’s glad because he has plans .

Plans that start with Steve winding those thick curls around his fingers as he slides his lips against Eddie’s. Eddie pushes his head back into Steve’s hands like a cat, and it makes Steve smile into their kiss, which makes Eddie smile into the kiss. It’s like a domino effect—once Steve feels Eddie’s smile against his, he starts giggling like a schoolgirl. He can’t help it, this feels unreal in the best possible way.

Then Eddie’s off, giggling back into Steve’s mouth. They’re both just sitting there giggling at each other, eyes squinted and happy . God, Steve feels euphoric in this moment, perched in Eddie’s lap like it’s his throne, with Eddie’s hands on his ass.

Eddie pulls back after a moment, when their smiles are too wide to actually kiss. He brings a hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from Steve’s eyes, tucking the long lock behind his ear before putting his hand back on Steve’s ass.

“You’re unbelievable, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, eyes so full of affection that Steve feels his insides turn to mush. He squirms in Eddie’s laps, ducking his head to mouth at Eddie’s neck because if he stares into his eyes any longer he’s going to do something stupid . Stupid like admit that he’s pretty fucking sure he’s in love with Eddie, has been since he gave him that dumb rock for no decernable reason other than he wanted to, because he was thinking of Steve.

Steve tongues at the tendon in Eddie’s neck that’s stretched taunt, rubs his nose along his jaw and up to the hollow under his ear. Eddie laughs, tilting his head sideways to give Steve easier access.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy? After you practically pounced on me earli—”

Eddie’s words cut off in a choked groan as Steve bites, hard , at the tendon he was just showing attention to.

“ Steve, ” Eddie gasps, but Steve doesn’t let him do any other talking. No, he’s not going to let Eddie derail him again. So, he dives back for Eddie’s mouth, licking into it, not slowing down and not giving Eddie a chance to catch up. He smooths his tongue alongside Eddie’s, lets Eddie push back against it with his own for a millisecond, before he’s switching tactics—licking behind the top row of Eddie’s teeth, sliding his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip.

Eddie squeezes his ass at the sudden onslaught, and Steve can’t help the small jerk his body gives at that. He grinds down, a gasp trapped in the humid air between them as sharp waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. He’s trapped in between Eddie’s lips and his hands and he feels like he’s high with it.

He’s enjoying himself so much.

He slides his tongue along Eddie’s again, enjoys the way it's slightly rough and gloriously slick against his own. Enjoys the way it makes his pulse thrum a little faster, his fingers grip a little tighter where they’re fisted in Eddie’s hair—the way it makes Eddie squeeze a little tighter, which makes Steve grind down a little harder.

Steve feels the evidence of Eddie’s interest, has been feeling it, and knows Eddie has to be aware of Steve’s own. And Steve’s fantasized about Eddie’s lips for so long that he’s tried to keep it to just that—tried to focus on the heady drag of lips on lips—but it’s hard to ignore the way Steve’s own hips are twisting down, seeking as much of Eddie as possible. Hard to ignore the way Eddie has his own feet planted on the floor, meeting Steve’s hips with firm thrusts of his own.

They’re sharing humid air and sharp gasps, their lips swollen and honestly sore . Steve’s lips ache in the best way he’s ever felt, and Steve doesn’t want to stop. Wants to sit right here on Eddie’s strong thighs, wants to feel Eddie’s teeth nipping at the too sensitive skin of his mouth, wants to kiss Eddie for the rest of his life .

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Steve has never just kissed someone like this. He’s never kissed just to feel, kissed just for the pleasure of it with no expectations for what’s to follow. He feels intoxicated. He’s utterly, wholly blissed out on Eddie Munson’s mouth and he never wants it to end.

They kiss for so long that Steve has honestly started to lose feeling in his lips. It’s weird feeling them so sore, so numb. But they are, so he slowly, so slowly pulls back. Leaning down for a few lingering pecks as he puts a little distance between their mouths.

Eddie’s mouth is bright red, spit slick and so tempting. Steve watches with fascination as a single string of spit connects their lips, stretching until he’s put enough distance between them that it breaks.

Steve bites his lip on a moan, thinks that’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He meets Eddie’s gaze. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out. His hair is an absolute disaster from the way Steve’s been running his fingers through it, and his cheeks are flushed so prettily. Steve can’t resist sneaking one more kiss in, lingering around afterwards to rub their noses together.

“Hi,” Steve finally murmurs and fuck, is that his voice? Jesus, he sounds wrecked.

“Hi,” Eddie says back, his smile verging on loopy. “Did you know that some corvids can understand physics?”

Steve stares at him for a beat, a little stunned and a lot confused by the abrupt topic switch. Eddie stares back, a look on his face that Steve can only take for regret, his already pink face is turning positively crimson.

It’s dead quiet for a moment, then Steve bursts into laughter. His chest absolutely swells with affection, with, fuck it, love. God damn , he can’t deny it any longer. The love he feels for this boy sitting under him is overwhelming at the best of times, and it feels like it’s just bursting out of him at this moment. He’s coming apart at the seams with his feelings for Eddie, and he’s done trying to pretend that they’re anything but that.

“Oh my God, ” Eddie mutters, bringing his hands up to hide his face. It’s so endearing. Steve is endeared. “Sorry, fuck. I don’t know why I just said that.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Steve’s still grinning down at Eddie, moving his hands to clasp around Eddie’s wrists, trying to pry his hands away. He never wants to not be looking at Eddie. He’s so fucking weird and Steve likes him so much. “I like you so fucking much .”

Eddie lets Steve pull his hands away, and he…there’s no other word for it, Eddie just absolutely lights up. It’s like Steve’s staring directly at the sun. Eddie is beaming up at him, his smile so wide that his eyes are basically closed. He has laugh lines, and Steve is already obsessed with them, already thinking of ways to make Eddie smile this wide, this radiant all the time.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve confirms. “Just ask Robin. I’ve been whining about it for weeks .”

Eddie laughs again, his grin not dimming in the slightest, and Steve just has to taste it—has to get his mouth around Eddie’s happiness. So, he swoops back in, feels Eddie’s laughter transfer to him via their connected mouths, feels a piece of himself that’s long been looking for a home finally slot into place.

#LOOK #i just think eddie is the type of person to say the most interesting facts at the worst possible time #and i think steve is kinda into that #idiot 4 idiot yknow?#anyway no idea where this came from #this fic struck me like a fever and would not leave until i purged it #so enjoy!#steddie #steddie fic rec #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson fic #steddie fan fiction #my writing

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xieni-logs · 1 year

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cAn i request welt, jing Yuan, dan heng, blade and maybe even caelus with an s/o who's mute (like they can't speak) but they're very expressive with emotions and usually communicates thru writing on paper?? kinda got the idea from komi can't communicate

also a lil scenario on how the men would react if someone did or say something offensive to their s/o?

HSR x mute!reader (RQ)

includes: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Welt

a/n: ty for your rq, anon! I actually started watching komi can't communicate since you said it, and ended up watching too much of it and writing too little lololol i made the scenario thing into someone saying something offensive about how reader is mute since we're on that topic already, hope thats ok! more a/n: I FORGOT ABOUT WELT, ADDED HIM NOW

* ˚ ✦ Jing Yuan who was initially curious behind why you couldn’t speak but no matter the reason, he wouldn't mind it. he finds your expressions cute, i mean who wouldn't? god, he can't believe anyone in their right mind could ever make a snarky remark about you. but they did, and Jing Yuan is gonna let that go easily. even if you say you're fine with that comment, he sure isn't. he doesn't go and threaten the person, instead he'll make their lives oh so annoying. they'll be denied service due to some obscure reason (a gag order from Jing Yuan; you seem to forget he's a general, he has a lot of influence), luck will never seem to be by their side either. and if they're a long-life species, well, they're in for a couple decades of annoyances. Jing Yuan isn't confrontational but he sure is petty.

* ˚ ✦ Blade originally found you being mute rather troublesome. it was a lot more work having to read your notes, and though you're fast at writing, Blade used to always complain about how slow you were at responses. but he slowly gets used to it, and in time, he finds himself enjoying your silent company. in all the chaos, Blade enjoys the comfortable silence between you two. if you want to talk, he'll read your notes and respond with nods or shakes of his head. he'll get pretty pissed hearing someone make a snarky remark on your lack of speech. there's nothing much he can and wants to do except brandish his sword at the person. after, Blade will give you a quick look of are you ok? before moving on. it's a small sweet gesture.

* ˚ ✦ Dan Heng who was neither curious nor cared about you being mute. he simply accepted it as a fact and continued. it doesn't really bother him, he has no qualms about it. but when someone says something offensive about your lack of speech, that's when he has a problem. why can't they mind their own business? he'll tell them a snarky remark before taking you away from the situation. it's not worth the trouble concerning the both of you with that person is what he'll think. Dan Heng will ask you if you're alright and assure you that what the person said is wrong. he'll make sure you know you are perfectly fine not speaking, you aren't abnormal for not speaking, and that it's part of your charm and one of the many things he likes about you.

* ˚ ✦ Welt who respects the fact you're mute. he doesn't pry into why you are but he'll listen if you want to explain. if you draw little faces on your notes to convey your expression, god, he's so weak to that. will indulge in drawing faces on your notes (smiley faces with a badly drawn thumbs up as an ok from him; it took him 5 minutes to draw that hand). he finds it unbelievable anyone would say something so passive aggressive about the fact you're mute. people can be so disrespectful! he disengages the situation and leaves, guiding you away with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. like Dan Heng, he'll reassure you that whatever was said was wrong. you'll never interact, or even see, that person again if he can help it.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr blade #blade hsr #blade x reader #dan heng #dan heng hsr #dan heng x reader #welt yang #welt yang x reader #xieni's requests

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

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So we've seen your Error headcannons, can we get your Nightmare ones since you're in a romantical mood?

Oh can you.....

He's a very complex individual. Under all that rage, when he likes you and wants your company, he's actually a very calm, intelligent and eloquent lover. Princely, if you will. He likes hearing you talk, and is very good at roping you into chatting about your hobbies for hours while he just adoringly stares. He enjoys the arts, music, poetry... once he finds someone he wants, you'd never even know how much anger he's set aside.

(Unlike Error, he's aware that constant anger isn't a very attractive trait)

While he's first starting to develop feelings, it's one of those situations where you won't realise how much he likes you until you see the way he acts around other people. You might think he feels neutral about you, at best- he talks to you, but never about himself, seeming to prefer when you're the one talking. Maybe chortles at a joke every now and then. But overall, he's relatively quiet, relatively still-faced... not very outwardly emotional in any manner.

... Then you see how he acts around everyone else. Hair-thin temper that leads to physical violence with anyone who annoys him too long, dismissive and mean about any subject, he tells people who talk too long to shut up and makes underhanded cruel 'jokes' at their expenses. The same tentacles that curl around your hand or stroke your back as he walks by will grab Dust around the head and slam him into the ground because he made a poorly timed joke.

Nightmare has an eye for traditional courtship. Once his heart is set on you, expect bouquets, jewellery, fine evening dining, strolls through midnight gardens, flowery handwritten letters. He carries a locket with your portrait.

You would think his love languages are gift giving and acts of service, considering how often it seems to be the only way he shows love. But deep down... it's actually physical touch. He's just far too afraid to show it.

Nightmare would do well with a physically affectionate partner. Someone who'll cuddle up to him first so has an excuse to snuggle back. But someone less physical would also be good- sometimes he's afraid his aversion to touch will drive away a partner, and somebody who doesn't really mind either way soothes those fears.

You can't lie to him. Well, I mean... you can. But he can sense it, and he'll always know. Whether or not he lets you think he believes you is up to him.

He has a locked box in his castle full of sketches and small oil paint studies of you. You'll know he's finally totally comfortable with you when he politely asks if he can draw you.

His tentacles often act on his true feelings. Whether that's snapping out to choke Killer for asking if you top, or lovingly curling around you when he's half asleep.

... He's actually pretty childish. Especially when in love. Though he's good at hiding it under layers of highborn mannerisms, he fucking hates when there are any potential rivals for your affection. He tends to lash out against the 'rivals' in underhanded manners whenever you're not looking, then really lay on the charm and affection with you to ensure you're not thinking of leaving him. If you're asexual or demi it may not be that big of a deal because he's soothed by your lack of interest in others, but if you're pansexual or bi, it might be a genuine problem that needs addressing.

Call him "my love". He likes feeling like your one and only.

#llamagines #you all have valacre to thank for my adoration of nightmare

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colorlessjayblog · 3 months

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Supernatural High School AU idea: Here me out

High school is full of monsters (metaphorically), and with Sammy being old enough to actually start that dreadful stage of pre teen, it's up to his big brother Dean to make sure lil Sammy doesn't have to deal with the shit he had to Unfortunately for him, his dad John Winchester just got promoted and decided, without even discussing it with his kids, that they should move out to the big city so he can live closer to the police station he's been transferred to. So all the street cred Dean had built up for 4 years that he was planning on using to keep Sam safe from bullies? Down the drain. Worst of all, the new high school the two were enrolled in is, for lack of a better terms, crawling with monsters (teenagers) that see two cop kids and immediately pin them down as fresh meat.

While Sam hopes to keep a low profile and focus on his studies, Dean immediately tries to make himself a bigger target for attention. He hope to building a reputation that could either get people to like him enough to not bother Sam, or scared of him enough that they wouldn't dare hurt his little brother. Either way, he finds himself with a busted lip and bruised knuckles, sitting in detention on the first week of school. Dean thinks of his dad at that moment, and the amount of shit he was gonna get when they inevitably call him and snitch. He thinks about ways to possibly get out of it (maybe calling Uncle Bobby to bail them out somehow) when the door to the detention room opens and Dean, to his surprise, was given a slap on the wrist and a warning by the vice principle When asked why, all Ms. Billie tells him was that a guy named Castiel vouched for his innocence and claimed it was all self defense. Dean soon meets his 'guardian angel' standing by his locker, not leaning against it, standing in front of it in the middle of the hall way like a creep. The trench coat that was two sizes too big didn't help They have the most uncomfortable stare off before Dean asks who the hell he was and all he gets is: "I'm the one who vouched for you, and saved you from detention" Dean doesn't trust the guy as far as he can thrown him, especially after finding out the guy was part of the school's Ice Hockey team, who Dean didn't even know the school had, since they also had a (more vocal) Football team, one that Dean was planning on joining to gain some jock rep. Castiel's reason for 'saving' Dean had been to try and recruit him for hockey, something Dean immediately turns down. Dean didn't trust whatever it was they were planning, certainly didn't trust the guy they sent as a representative. On the other side of the coin, Sam is struggling to find his footing in his new life. He's gotten used to traveling often, his dad having taken him and Dean out hunting numerous times through out his childhood, but this was permanent. He barely had any friends back in Kansas, he has less so now being the new kid. One thing was for sure, Sam didn't want to rely on his big brother for everything anymore. Not because he wasn't grateful, heaven knows Dean had been more of a father to him then his own dad, but that's just it! He doesn't want Dean to keep watch over him, he wants his big brother to actually enjoy high school and be a teenager, without having to worry about his little brother getting hurt or finding Sam on the wrong end of a fist. Sam wanted to prove to Dean that he was just as capable, independent, and strong as he was. Which leads to Sam finding himself among some bad company. He wasn't gullible by any means, but hormones and the itch to rebel and prove himself push him to some trouble he thought he'd never find himself in. All it took was one conversation with his classmate Ruby, and suddenly Sam finds himself involved in the most convoluted, and frankly cliche, high school deep shit drama. Now he has to keep secrets, sneak around, and uncover dirty laundry from people who are far too damaged to be in high school. Seriously, so many of them need to go to some kind of therapist or physiatrist. That or they need a better guidance counselor. Highjinx happen, fights break out, hearts are broken, and people discover things about themselves they wish they never did. All in time for the apocalypse (Senior Prom)

----------- Feel free to use this as a prompt or something! I'd love to hear people's ideas. Or hell, add on to the idea, what the other characters would be in this AU. I was thinking Charlie could be part of a DND or boardgame/video gaming club, some, some shit happens that leads to Dean and Charlie being friends. Thinking about Heaven and Hell just being two very different popular groups. Heaven group being the student council, preppy, rich kids. Hell being the rebels, delinquents, and outcasts. Cliche's like Vampires being goths, werewolves being jocks and all that

#supernatural #spn fanart #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #destiel #deancas #supernatural au #team free will

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greenandsorrow · 5 months

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You're my best friend

✨Eddie is in love with his best friend (fem!reader)✨

feelings of inadequacy, fluff, comfort, light angst

"Damsel I'm back!!!! It's so excruciating going grocery shopping..."

It's the melodramatic entrance and the small pout at the end of his sentence as he kicks off his stinky shoes that makes you chuckle.

"Glad you survived Edds."

You two used to talk at school and were on good terms. After he failed to graduate twice you became classmates and got so so so so so close. The truth is that he always had a crush on you, but regardless of that your friendship is real and runs deep.

When you were looking for a place to stay after deciding you needed some time away from your family, Eddie told you that you can stay with him -his uncle is barely at home anyway- as long as you do the cooking. Least to say, you accepted the offer.

You listen to him playing his electric guitar, he keeps you company while you study, you have laughed and cried together. He doesn't mind you're not a complete freak like him, but more of a black sheep at school. There have been rumours you're dating and at first you liked being dramatic about it. Unfortunately for him, you're actually dating someone now so the "being dramatic about it" has stopped. Eddie doesn't enjoy your romantic interest taking your attention away from him, but he respects you too much to say anything that could even remotely throw you off.

You are roommates, you have your rules, your movie nights... and he's a gift from God you can't lie. He has learnt and accepted your every little quirk and peculiarity.

Sometimes you make hot chocolate and play Scrabble with Dustin and him. Sometimes you play with his hair while he's stoned. He has significantly cut down on smoking all this shit since you moved in.

Eddie isn't the jealous type, but the pit at his stomach envious type, the delicate disappointment that he can't have you the way others do type.

You'll be his first and last kiss.

Eddie drives you everywhere with his trashy car. He's the best company you could have ever asked for. You love your friend. You wish more people could see him the way you do.

The night is uneventful with you falling asleep on the couch as per usual. In the morning, Eddie wakes you up by ruffling your already messy hair and singing "you are my sunshine" in an ear bleeding frequency.

You're too sleepy to care and just stretch, your lack of a bra not going unnoticed. An awkward giggle is all he lets out, but internally he's so grateful for his hair covering his ears. They're burning too intensely for this time of day.

You get ready for school. It's all routine.

After school, you have your shift at the same place Mrs. Wheeler works in. At least it's quiet.

At this point you feel too bored for your own good, not to mention how your date canceled on you a third time in a row. You return home so done with life. Your hero, Eddie, has prepared the hot water just for you. He welcomes you in by telling you that you're late and have missed the DnD match, but he quickly realizes you're not in the mood.

You're so mentally exhausted, fed up and frustrated with your canceled date that you try to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Eddie gets a little hurt because the rules say no pitty fucking amongst pals.

When there's no reaction from him you just pull back and shrug. You won't show how embarrassed you actually feel. Not in this already pitiful state. Eddie knows about the canceled dates.

He does try to move on and get some snacks and a movie ready. He is flustered... your breath was so hot on his face... good thing he has time to shake the feeling off while you shower.

"The grime has been washed off!"

"We can talk about it, ...if you want to that is?"

Eddie is genuinely worried about your emotional state and he makes you open up and even break down in his arms. You have been living in denial but your love interest has been distancing themselves from you.

After this crying session, with you holding onto Eddie's warm body and wetting his Hellfire Club shirt with mascara tears, you put on a horror film. He even lets the fact that you're wearing your now ex's hoodie drop. Even though the revelation makes his chest tighten and his breath canal feel like it's been blocked.

You fall asleep on him.

He can feel the outline of your curves and your breasts pressing against him but the way he's holding you is gentle, like he's afraid you'll break into a thousand small, sharp pieces if he squeezes you too hard. You're even snoring softly, completely drained from all the crying.

At least you can't notice the silent tears running down his face. It's unfair. He's choking up in all the unsaid things. He had to see you crying over someone that doesn't even appreciate you while he was there. Exposed to you, ready to give you all he had.

Is he not your best friend? Who is there painting your nails and giving you scalp massages when your period headaches torment you?

Maybe if his mother hadn't abandoned him he would have been able to ask her for advice. He feels like crap now. Are you really that blind? Do you take him for granted to such an extent as you showed him tonight?

Another morning comes, but insecurities gnaw at Eddie. He can't fake a smile when you yawn and open your eyes, realising you're still wrapped around him.

"You look like shit."

Normally he wouldn't mind your choice of words at all, probably finding something even worse to say to you, but in his fragile state... Eddie snaps.

"It's not funny y/n! Do you think it's funny when someone spends the night sleepless?!"

You tilt your head, your mouth forming a straight line.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Oh no, I don't wanna hear it! Are you really as insensitive as you let out?"

"Edds I... I-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I can't take it anymore! You have me wrapped around your finger y/n, feeding me hope and baked goodies.. but I've never heard a single I love you Eddie, not a single I actually care for you Eddie... Nothing!"

His big eyes are glassy now, tears threatening to spill down his freshly shaven cheeks. It breaks your heart to see him like this.

"B- but I do... I do love you!"

Your voice cracks as you feel your own eyes swelling up with tears.

"Then prove it! Prove it goddamn it! Wear my hoodies, worry over me for a change... Just please... Please-"

All the energy and anger have vanished from his expression and tone. Your gaze has softened as well and he feels like he's melting under it.

You extend your arms, wrapping them tightly around him. Eddie returns the embrace like you're gonna vanish into thin air if he doesn't hold you close enough to be able to feel your heartbeat against his own.

"Have I been so blind?" you ask without breaking the hug.

"Yes you glorious idiot of a girl..."

The pout... the melodrama. He's okay now. You stay like this for a while, missing your classes but at least settling into the conclusion.

You two belong together.

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my masterlist

I found all my shifting scripts from quite some time ago, so since I'm still in this stupid writer's block I thought it'd be fun to work on some pre existing material. I had to edit this ALOT, but it came out cute ngl✨

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naughtyneganjdm · 8 months

Text

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 13

Summary: Negan and Y/N get ready to leave her family's farm, but when certain things are revealed it leaves an explosive amount of emotions for everyone.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Beau, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/134344273

Warnings: Swearing, severe angst, etc.

Notes: This is my second to last chapter. It's long. It's very angsty and I love you guys who put up with this the whole time and those who have taken the time to comment! I appreciate you all.

You can tell yourself that it’s going to be easy breaking up with someone, but it never is. Especially when it’s someone you consider to be an overall good person. A person where there is really no good reason for breaking up with them. Other than you just don’t love them and they aren’t for you. So many people would tell Y/N that she was crazy for giving up Glenn. He was sweet. He was caring. He was cute. But he just wasn’t someone she was in love with. Standing before his bedroom door this morning had her feeling awful about the decision she was about to make.

At first, she considered actually sitting down and talking with Glenn. That was probably the most kindhearted option and the best thing to do, but she couldn’t gather enough strength to wake him. Negan and Maggie had broken up the night before, agreeing that they didn’t belong together. Telling Glenn that to his face when Glenn was actually good really made things hard. Because of that she decided to write Glenn a letter. It was vague, but it just stressed that she found someone else that she realized she was in love with and it was an attempts at letting Glenn down easily instead of hurting him.

Thinking back on her relationship with Glenn, it was always pretty obvious that the only reason she continued on with the dating part was because she actually enjoyed his company. When Glenn showed up in Y/N’s life, she was always busy and deep into work. It didn’t really give her time to socialize or date.

There was no plans on having Glenn in her life. Hell, he was just a guy that delivered her pizza to her late one night that was nice to her. Both of them just enjoyed talking to each other. Glenn confessed that most people didn’t treat him like a human being and she lacked connection with people outside of her job. They hit it off in that sense. But what she really needed was a friend and Glenn provided that for her.

Asking Glenn on a date was more so a way of her trying to get him to spend more time with her instead of her having to order pizzas every time she wanted to talk to someone. What was nice about everything was being able to have someone to share moments with. To not feel like she was alone, but she never truly felt like she was in love with Glenn. They only had sex because Y/N felt like she had to after how long they had essentially dated. For her, she never felt connected to it. She loved Glenn in the friend way so it only felt awkward any time she had to get intimate with him.

When Glenn asked her to marry him, it was on a vacation they had taken together to France. They were in front of a bunch of strangers, miles away from home and they were going to be stuck together for days. The only reason she told him yes was to avoid hurting him and making things awkward. Sure, she wanted Glenn in her life, but not in the way that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Quietly turning the doorknob, Y/N was hoping that Glenn was still sleeping. Thankfully when the door partially opened, she could see that he was deep in sleep. Stepping into the room, she gazed over Glenn and felt her chest ache. Hopefully by the time that he woke up she would be long gone. Setting the letter down on the corner of the dresser that was in his room, she took a look at Glenn and sighed. Grabbing a hold of the engagement ring that Glenn had given her, she tugged it down her finger and held it between her fingertips. It felt weird taking it off after this long, but she knew this was genuinely the best thing for both of them. Setting the ring down on top of the letter, she knew that he would be confused, but this had to be done.

Taking another look at Glenn sleeping reminded her of the past. Glenn was a good-looking guy, there was no question in that. Most women would be lucky to have someone like Glenn in their lives. That was why she always felt bad for wanting more. Glenn was enough. Just not in the terms of what she needed in her life. Sure, this wouldn’t be the last time she would see Glenn. This was just the easiest way of breaking up with him and making things easier for both of them. Knowing this wouldn’t be the last time seeing him made things easier. Although she assumed he may never want to see her again after all of this.

Backstepping toward the hallway, she wanted to make sure that she didn’t make any noise to draw him to wake up. Glenn was a pretty light sleeper so this made it hard enough as it was. Taking extra time to close the door, she realized she likely looked silly in how she was acting, but those extra steps to keep him asleep were necessary. Once the door clicked closed, she waited outside of it. Listening closely, she was thankful that she didn’t hear the sounds of Glenn moving around inside telling her that she successfully escaped. Standing still for a moment longer, she finally tip toed back toward the stairs that led to the attic.

Originally, Negan had talked about them revealing things to her family, but that was before he had broken up with Maggie. Truthfully? She was happy they changed their plan. Instead of sticking around, they were just going to leave before everyone woke up. It was the only way that made sense for her. She had written letters for everyone. Everyone except for Hershel. Everything that she had to say had been already said to her father. Once she was done with them, she put them on the counter and addressed each letter to the person it went to.

So it was very important to still move quietly throughout the house. Avoiding conflict and confrontation was key. After everything from the night before, she didn’t want to fight with anyone. And as strong as she was, she knew that she probably couldn’t tell Maggie to her face what she had done. This was good enough. It was easy for everyone and it avoided more fighting.

Closing the door that led to the attic, she moved slowly up the stairs. She was sluggish in her movements. Both from depression and her trying to be quiet. At the top stair she heard a squeak that made her wince. Damn this house for being as old as it was. Standing beside the bed was Negan attempting to prepare the shirt that he was about to put on. Hearing the stair squeak drew him to look over his shoulder at her, flashing her one of his charming smiles.

In his eyes Y/N could tell that he was still tired. They had talked most of the night. If anything, they might have gotten an hour of sleep together. It was nice having someone to talk to. With Glenn, Y/N never felt like she could truly connect with him. A lot of her feelings were deep and Glenn was always so positive. It took someone like Negan who could see both the positive and negative in life to help her hear what she really needed.

“Hey there beautiful,” Negan was cheerful in his delivery, turning slowly on his heel. “How’d everything go?”

“I’m a wimp,” she confessed, throwing her hands up when she realized everything she had done was to save herself from more stress and drama. Wiggling her fingers in the air had Negan smirking, but his eyes narrowed showing that he was confused. “My hand hurts. I wrote everyone a letter. I know that was the plan with my family and I thought about talking things out with Glenn, but I just couldn’t bring myself to actually do that. So I wrote him a letter too.”

Heading over to the corner of the room, she rest back against the wall to stare out at Negan who dropped his arm down and was holding his shirt at his side, “I couldn’t even have the decency to break up with him to his face. I just left the letter and the engagement ring on his dresser. I didn’t even go into details in the letter. I just told him I found someone else that I realized I was in love with. That he was a perfect guy and I still cared about him, but I just wasn’t in love with him.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Negan quipped, his eyebrow arching in curiosity. By the expression over her face, he could tell that she didn’t think it was a good way to break up with someone. Moving across the attic, Negan outstretched his arms to place his hands over her hips. Drawing her near him, he tipped down to press a loving kiss over her forehead and she sighed.

It was a loaded question. There were so many things wrong with how she decided to break up with Glenn, but she didn’t want to talk about them. Not right now.

Brushing her fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered Negan’s chest, she gave him a weak smile and looked down. Negan’s jeans were hanging low at his hips giving her plenty enough of a view to have her heartrate quicken. The v-line on Negan’s hips were incredible and she loved his body. A lot of people were attracted to the muscular type, but she was in awe of Negan’s slender physique, “Did I just miss you putting your pants on?”

“I did just change out of my pajamas,” Negan snickered, tapping his fingers against her chin. Leading her to tip her head back, Negan’s expression grew arrogant and she knew that he liked her being naughty with him. “What? Is seeing me shirtless not good enough for you.”

“Come on Negan. Play fair. You know that I love every part of you,” she frowned, sliding her hands down from his chest toward his slender abdomen. Negan’s eyes fluttered to a close when she reached the area just beneath his bellybutton where there was a softness to his flesh. Even the small smirk he gave when she dragged her fingertips further down had a fire growing inside of her. “I’m just suggesting that maybe seeing you changing out of your pajamas and into your pants would have helped me get through the day.”

“Is that so?” Negan’s right eyebrow arched, a growl falling from his throat. Stepping back, Negan unhooked his belt that he was wearing after tossing his shirt back on top of the bed. Dropping her gaze, her lips parted and her breathing grew louder. It was hard to really focus on what with Negan. His body or his incredibly attractive features? Because it was hard doing both. “If it’s the only thing that can help you make it through the day, then who the fuck am I to keep that from you?”

There was something sensual about the way that Negan dragged his fingers across his belt and over the button in his pants. Being sexy wasn’t something he had to try hard at, but he was doing his best to put on a show for her right now. Even the way he dragged down the zipper of his jeans had her heart skip a beat. Ever so slightly, he began to tug at the material of his jeans. Inch by inch he started to reveal his body to her, stopping when he reached the area to reveal the dark curls of hair that surrounded the base of his cock.

“Is this good enough for you?” Negan taunted her, very much aware of the fact that she wanted more.

“Now you’re just being a tease,” she alerted him with her throat growing dry at the sight of him.

“Oh? I’m a tease?” Negan dramatically repeated, turning on his heel and lower his pants just enough to reveal his small bottom her. His antics had her rolling her eyes, but his laughter was cute in itself. “Is this better?”

“I thought you wanted to be good to me,” she played back, sucking faintly at her bottom lip when he shot her a flirty glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, it wasn’t my ass that you wanted to see?” Negan rambled, turning to face her again. Enthusiastically pushing at the material of his jeans and his boxer briefs had them pooling at his ankles. Throwing his hands up in the air in an arrogant fashion and giving her the biggest, cheesiest smile had her laughing. “Better?”

“You’re ridiculous,” she confessed, stepping forward to brace her hand in over the center of his chest. Tipping up on her toes, she brought their lips together having him hum against her flesh between their kisses.

“And you love me anyways,” Negan slurred, his tongue brushing out between her lips. Pulling her flush against him had her gasping out, her right arm hooking around his shoulders. Behind heavy eyelids, Negan stared down at her and shook his head. “I love you so fucking much.”

“And I love you,” she assured him, dragging her left hand down over the side of his face. Stroking her fingers through his short beard had him leaning into her touch and sighing. “You’re a sight I could never get sick of.”

“I do have a pretty nice dick,” Negan admitted causing her to roll her eyes and laugh. “Hey, you’re the one that came in asking to see it.”

“You do, I agree,” she whispered, drawing her finger across his bottom lip. With him pressing faint kisses at the pad of her thumb, she knew that she needed to be able to focus. “But I meant in general. Fully clothed, partially clothed, completely naked…I could never get sick of you.”

“That’s good,” Negan snickered looking down between them and she did the same. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

“So that?” she tipped her head down to stare at his semi erect body. “That’s mine?”

“All yours,” Negan snorted, burying his head against the side of her neck to press wet kisses over her flesh. “If you want, you can touch it a few times, but that’s probably it. We need to get out of here before everyone is up and about. Maybe later tonight after Santa delivers the presents under the Christmas tree, you can let him come down your chimney.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like quite the offer. I don’t know, is Santa going to be dressed up in his suit?” she lowered her hand down between them to curl her fingers around the root to his masculinity hearing him growl. Pressing his forehead to hers, Negan smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Because I think I’d be more willing to let him come down my chimney if he was dressed appropriately.”

“If that’s something you’re interested in, we can make it happen,” he whispered, his eyebrows furrowing when he looked between them to watch her touching him in delicate strokes. “I just have to warn you it may be the skinniest version of Santa Claus you’ve ever seen. He’s been on a bit of a diet.”

“I can work with that,” she nibbled at his bottom lip having him faintly moan when she gave it a small tug. “It’s too bad we can’t get in a quick session before we go.”

“I kind of fucked myself over in this situation,” Negan informed her with a growl, grabbing a hold of her wrist to stop her from getting him completely rigid in her touch. Damning himself, Negan licked his lips and huffed. “I already have Beau and Erin up. They are packing their things. If I didn’t I would have had no problem doing that.”

“I guess we will just have to wait until tonight to get that visit from Santa,” she chuckled giving him one final kiss before stepping back and away from him. Huffing out, Negan looked down and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re not wrong. We do need to get out of here before everyone wakes up.”

“Fuck,” he grumbled bending down to grab his boxer briefs and his jeans. Working them back up his body, Negan took some time to adjust his length in a way that would be comfortable enough for him to zip his jeans back up. “I didn’t think you would be ready to go for another round this morning. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have woken them up.”

“I’ll survive,” she assured him, patting him on the chest and then heading over to the bed. Snatching the shirt that he threw on top of it, she tossed it back to him and he caught it. “The buildup for tonight will make it that much better.”

“I feel like you have to flash me your ass or your tits to only make this fair,” Negan explained which made her laugh at the bluntness of it. “I just gave you everything here.”

“You’re almost fully erect Negan, is that really what you want?” she pointed down toward his groin hearing him huff him response. Stepping forward, Negan brought her in closer to him and hovered his lips in over hers. Gasping out, she felt Negan’s fingers caress up under her shirt to trace his rough fingertips over the lengths of her back. When he slid them back down, his fingers sank beneath the material of her pants to caress at her fleshy bottom. Purring against his lips, she felt her heart rate quicken and she shook her head. “You really do like torturing yourself, don’t you?”

“Probably,” Negan scoffed, giving her bottom another firm squeeze before pulling back and away. Pulling his shirt on had her laughing with the expression that he was making. “I promise to be a good boy from here on out.”

“You better,” she noted heading over toward the window that was in the attic to stare out at the land with the sun only just starting to come up. Thinking about everything she had already accomplished today made her let out a loud exhale. “You don’t think I’m a bad person for breaking things off the way I did with Glenn, do you?”

“You didn’t just take off with no explanation,” Negan reasoned with her going back to packing his things for them to leave. “I think what you did was appropriate enough. I told Maggie the same thing you did in your letter to Glenn. So what makes mine any different than yours?”

“You actually broke up with her to her face?” Y/N suggested, looking back over her shoulder at Negan to watch him gathering his things. “You’re stronger than me. I don’t think I could have dealt with Glenn’s reaction to him finding out I was in love with someone else.”

“Glenn will be fine honey,” Negan stood up from where he was and headed over to where she was standing. Cupping her face in his hands in a tender grasp, his eyes connected with her and he tried giving her the support she needed. “I know you are going through a whirlwind of emotions right now, but you have to trust me. Everything is going to be okay. I promise you that.”

“I’m sorry for being all over the place with my feelings right now. I just feel like a terrible person,” she frowned allowing Negan to pull her in closer to him. Placing her hands in over the center of his chest, she looked up at him with her saddened expression and he shook his head. “After everything that has happened, I don’t know.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” Negan hushed her dragging his thumb out over her bottom lip. “You just want to be happy for once and I really don’t think there is anything wrong with that Y/N. You deserve happiness just like everyone else does.”

“With what Hershel said last night,” she started, but Negan hushed her trying to keep her from letting her thoughts linger with her father.

“What he said doesn’t matter. Nothing he says matters because it’s a bunch of bullshit. He’s a liar,” Negan stressed lowering down enough to press a tiny kiss over her lips. “We’re going to get you away from here and then you are going to realize that everything is as it is meant to be. You will be happy, I promise.”

“How do you think people will handle us leaving together?” she inquired, her face flooding with contemplation. “I forgot to leave the keys with Glenn, but I will set them by the door when we finally do leave.”

“I don’t know. You pretty much told me that we were terrible at hiding things,” Negan replied, letting out a long sigh. An arrogant smirk tugged at his handsome features when he clasped her jaw between his thumb and his index finger. “Maybe the whole family knows at this point. I mean last night, when you first came in here, we weren’t quiet. I think we almost put a hole in the wall with what you were doing originally.”

“I was upset,” she reminded Negan who simply nodded. When she came in here, she just wanted to feel like the center of Negan’s world. Maybe she was too rough, but he handled it well in swaying her to what she really wanted. “I just wanted to feel something else other than the pain. My father tried to suggest that both you and Glenn liked Maggie more than you did me. I told you the things he said last night and they were just eating away at me.”

“I know what you were doing because I’ve been there,” Negan assured her capturing her lips in another kiss that lingered. “I just know that rough sex is not the way to fix a broken heart. You needed to be made love to and if people heard, well then…fuck them. We don’t have to deal with them again after this. What these people say to you just aren’t true and you deserve so much better.”

“Well, Maggie will probably have to get her things from your apartment and Glenn with mine since he does live with me,” she acknowledged realizing how awkward that was actually going to be when the time came.

“I can send Maggie her shit,” Negan suggested with a bounce of his eyebrows. After last night, Negan was not stressing about things as much as Y/N was. Things were done and cleared as far as he was concerned. If Maggie still wanted to be part of his life in some fashion. Alright. If she didn’t, that was okay too. He didn’t care what everyone else thought. “And with Glenn, I can go over if you need me to. Hell, you can just give him the apartment because you can move in with me. That’s the plan anyways.”

“I haven’t even seen your apartment yet,” she pointed out with a laugh knowing that they were just jumping right into things. “You really think it’s going to work out, don’t you?”

“I know it will,” Negan answered her giving her another quick kiss. Stepping back, he moved over toward his things again and made sure that they were packed away. “We should get going though. I have some ideas for what we can do when we get home. That way you can get settled in better.”

“All of my stuff is by the door ready to go,” she reminded him, heading over toward the bed to sit down on the edge of it. Bracing her hands back on the bed, she looked up at the decorations she did for Negan at the start of this trip and observed the room. “I’m taking everything in. This will be the last time I see this place.”

“Your room and this room is definitely something I will always have fond memories of,” Negan snickered, shooting her a glance back over his shoulder. “Oh man. And the barn. I’m serious about the two of us getting a farm together after we get married. Just so we can recreate that little session we had in the barn. Your father would shit his pants if he knew what we did in there.”

“Yes, he would,” she agreed with Negan, a smile tugging at her lips. “Good. He deserves to get angry over the shit he has pulled.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan slurred, standing up from the ground to pull his things over toward the stairs. Snapping his fingers, Negan headed back for the bed to grab his backpack that was sitting on it, letting out a frustrated sound when the things fell out of it. “Make sure that fucking thing is zipped up before you fucking grab it Negan.”

“Talking to yourself is a pretty solid thing,” she teased him, lowering down to help him pick up the odds and ends that had fallen out of his backpack. Reaching for the thing that had slid under the bed, she felt her heart skip a beat when she realized that it was a jewelry box. Kneeling back, she opened the box and let out a hesitant sound when she saw that it was an engagement ring inside. “Negan?”

“What?” Negan’s smile was big when he lifted his head, his eyebrows bouncing up in an arrogant motion until he realized what she was looking at. The color drained from his face when he attempted to grab it. “Hey…”

“Was this for Maggie?” Y/N inquired, her somewhat happy expression turning to confusion when she observed the ring closely.

“It’s complicated,” Negan went to reach for the box, but she pulled it back and away from him. A sense of panic flooded his veins when Y/N stood up from the ground and headed over toward the corner of the room with a chill flooding down her spine. “I can explain.”

“Go for it Negan because I know it’s not for me. You told me clearly the other day that we were going to get a ring when we went back to New York, so why don’t you explain this for me?” she couldn’t take her eyes off the ring feeling her heart hammering in her chest. Her limbs went numb and hot. It felt like the room was spinning around her. “You always stressed to me that things weren’t very serious with Maggie, Negan. So why the hell do you have an engagement ring in your backpack?”

“I bought it weeks ago,” Negan reasoned with her, stepping forward and placing his hands together in attempts to get her to look at him. “Maggie kept talking about wanting to get married. She wouldn’t stop talking about it. So I got confused…”

“You were going to ask Maggie to marry you on this trip?” she pushed for information watching Negan’s head tip from side to side. “You told me it wasn’t that serious Negan. You repeated multiple times that you two weren’t even living together so I had nothing to worry about. And you have an engagement ring for her?”

“Now hold on a minute,” Negan requested, his voice getting raspier when she snapped the box closed. Damn, he should have hid this fucking ring better. Both Beau and Y/N got upset by it, even knowing that there were no plans to actually give it to Maggie. “This was before anything happened with you. Okay? I bought the ring, I considered asking because I knew I hated being alone. Maggie was getting antsy and I don’t know. It was a buy that I regretted the moment that I did it. The box sat in my top drawer the whole time. When we were packing to come here, I was looking at it and Beau came into the room. I panicked and I shoved it into my bag. I didn’t really consider asking Maggie to marry me after the moment we spent together.”

“That’s bullshit Negan. You wouldn’t have been looking at it if you weren’t considering it,” she countered hearing a breath catch in Negan’s throat. “You threw all that shit on me when we first slept together about how we were meant to be together and you still brought an engagement ring just in case.”

“Y/N, come on,” Negan snickered finding himself uncomfortable that she was getting so upset with things. “What’s going on here? Yes, I bought her a ring before the two of us were together. Yes, I considered asking her to marry me here before we got together. But right now, we’re broken up and I’m ready to start my life with you. I want to be with you.”

“It means that you were in love with Maggie. Like genuinely, full-fledged in love with Maggie,” her words were coming out broken, tears burning at her eyes when she thought about everything that her father said the night before. “Hershel was right. Maggie was always the perfect one.”

“No. No she wasn’t,” Negan noticed that she was picking up on the insecurities of the things that her father had said. “I did it because I was afraid of being alone. Not because I thought Maggie was the love of my life Y/N. It’s because she was acting like she was going to run and I got worried.”

“Which means you were scared of losing her,” she repeated having Negan let out a confused sound. “God, I just confused you Negan. You were in love with Maggie and this ring says everything. You are going to realize the mistake you made. I took my sister away from a man that actually did love her. This is…”

“Hey!” Negan snapped his fingers to try to pull her thoughts back to him, his eyes narrowing when he tried to reason with her. “What does it matter Y/N? Why are you acting like this right now? You love me.”

“Of course I love you, but you were in love with my sister and I took the man that she was in love with. The man that was going to give her everything and…” she felt the guilt tearing away at her when Negan attempted to reach for her wrists. “God, I’m everything my father says I am.”

“No, no you’re not,” Negan tried to pull her to him, but she yanked away from him and he could see that she looked like she was about to be on the verge of a meltdown. “You are reading this all wrong Y/N. It doesn’t matter what I felt before I was with you. This ring, it was the same exact thing you did in your relationship with Glenn. You agreed to the things that Glenn wanted because you didn’t want to be alone. You wanted to feel close to someone, even though you knew that you didn’t love him. We’re the same. The two of us are exactly the same. If you take a moment to really think about it. You will see that.”

Anxiety and her fears were clouding her judgement. Negan could see that in her eyes and her expressions, “That night we first got together, I had no idea you were related to Maggie and I knew that I wanted to be with you. You are this close to having everything you’ve ever wanted and deserved. Don’t let your family ruin this for you.”

“I’m ruining the perfect life for my sister in order to be greedy. Sooner or later you are going to realize that Maggie is the one that you want to be with,” she insisted with a whimper going to step back, but Negan shook his head, his facial expression becoming stern. “I can’t do this Negan. I’m breaking Glenn’s heart, I’m ruining my sister’s future, I’m only confusing you right now because…”

“You’re not,” Negan pulled her in closer to him trying to grasp her face in his hands to get her to focus. “I know you are going through things right now and we will get over this because we love each other. The two of us are meant to be together Y/N. You have to understand that. You’re my soulmate and…”

“Your soulmate died Negan and you just got confused because I got tangled up in your web,” she reasoned with him feeling like she could drop at any point. It felt like her face was on fire. Everything ached the more she thought about all the details of everything she had missed. “I’m no good for anyone Negan. Getting with me is just going to make things toxic and…”

“You have been in this family way too long Y/N. You’re just upset because you are here,” Negan whispered, his head pressing forward to try to rest it against hers to have her relax. “When you are away from them, you are so strong and you don’t care about anyone’s shit. But your family has a way of getting under your skin and breaking you down. You’re not the bad guy Y/N. You never have been. You were the victim and they are gaslighting you right now. You have to fucking see that. Please don’t overthink this.”

“This is a hard thing to forget Negan,” she lifted the box and Negan took it, sliding it into his back pocket. “You loved Maggie enough to want to keep her with you. Even at the office, I was the first person to make the move. I knew you were dating someone and I didn’t care. I just found you so appealing and…”

“We cheated. So fucking what?” Negan scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air when she pulled away from him. “Yes, we cheated and we had incredible sex, but we also connected on another level that I haven’t done with someone in a very long time and I fucking know you feel it too. If I loved Maggie like you are saying that I do, I would have never let what happened between the two of us happen. So please just take a minute and realize…”

“I can’t,” she frowned, turning on her heel to head down the stairs and Negan was quickly stumbling after her. “Negan. I just think I should leave on my own, okay? I have to go.”

“No. No, you’re leaving with me, Beau and Erin,” Negan claimed with apprehension in his tone, his body locking up when he followed her down to the second level. “Please, think this through. If you weren’t heart broken because of your father right now…”

When they reached the bottom, Negan stumbled over his own feet and almost fell over. Grasping a hold of Y/N’s hands before she could take off, Negan had hopes that he could appeal to her to stop her from freaking out. Before he could say anything else, the sound of a door being pulled open was heard. Gazing back, Negan rolled his eyes and cussed out when he saw that it was Glenn standing in the doorway to his bedroom holding the letter that he had obviously read and Y/N’s engagement ring.

“Motherfucker,” Negan scowled, his face scrunching up in anger. “This is just my fucking luck. Come the fuck on.”

“Can we talk about this?” Glenn ignored Negan’s frustrations, moving into the hallway with Negan still holding onto Y/N’s hands. Tugging her hands from Negan, she shook her head and shoved her hands into her pockets to keep Negan from touching her. Red flooded into her face showing the discomfort she had with Glenn running out and interrupting them. “I think this is something we really need to talk about.”

“Now is not the time buddy,” Negan warned with a huff, finally getting Glenn to notice that he was there. Anger flooded into Glenn’s brown eyes with Negan telling him what to do. “We are going through something right now and…”

“I think I can decide when it’s the right time for me to talk to my fiancée,” Glenn exploded on Negan, his voice growing louder and it made Negan step back.

“Ex fiancée,” Negan stressed that word because in his mind? Y/N was his fiancée now after what they had experienced together on that loop of decorations the other night.

“Excuse me?” Glenn was visibly ready to fight until the sound of another door opening followed.

“What’s going on out here?” Maggie’s surprised eyes gazed upon the commotion that was happening outside of her room. Glenn looked like he could die on the spot, but also appeared to be enraged. When her eyes fell upon the ring that was between Glenn’s fingers, she let out a gasp. Clutching the door, Maggie turned white as a ghost. “What’s happening?”

“I’m leaving,” Y/N claimed, holding her keys up in the air letting them jangle. Heading for the stairs, she was eager to make a quick escape since this situation was only getting worse. This was not how she wanted to have Glenn learn about things. She was meant to be gone by now.

“Wait!” Negan snapped following her down, but he wasn’t the only one. Maggie and Glenn were on his tail which only irritated Negan more. Once she got downstairs, Y/N grabbed her things and she was quick to make it to the door. Heading toward the car, she threw her things in the trunk and they were all outside with her. “You are rushing this without thinking.”

“All I’ve had is time to think Negan,” she vented letting out an upset breath with Glenn and Maggie approaching them.

“I still don’t understand what the hell is going on,” Maggie demanded some kind of an answer, throwing her hands up in the air trying to get everyone to pay attention to her in the moment. “Why the hell is Y/N leaving? What is going on? Someone needs to start giving me some answers.”

“She wrote me a letter breaking up with me and she gave me the ring back,” Glenn informed Maggie, fear in his voice when they stood in front of the car door not allowing Y/N to leave. At this moment Y/N was both annoyed and infuriated. This was embarrassing that it came to this. Glenn shifted on his feet, his shoulders shrugging when he spoke in a whisper. “Are you leaving because of us?”

“Glenn!” Maggie scolded Glenn in something close to a whisper.

“Because of you?” she repeated, looking between Maggie and Glenn. Both of them looked like they could die on the spot with her questioning Glenn’s response.

“What’s going on?” Hershel called out from the steps and Negan’s overwhelmed growl of frustration filled the air. With her father bringing the attention to him, it allowed them to see that not only was Hershel out there with them, but so was Shawn, Annette and Beth who had obviously all heard the commotion of their bickering. “Do you all know what time it is? You’re out here screaming at one another.”

“What the hell is going on right now?” Y/N let out an uncomfortable laugh noticing the guilty features over both Glenn and Maggie’s faces. Having Hershel ask that question too was also borderline amusing. Pointing between Glenn and Maggie had them turning their eyes back to her instead of her family. “You want to know why I’m leaving? I’m leaving because Hershel requested me be gone in the morning.”

“And we’re going with her!” Negan spoke up, his tone determined when Y/N spun on her heel to glare back at him. Waving his hand about, Negan wanted to make sure he made everyone aware of what their original plan was together. “Beau, Erin and I are going with Y/N. We’re all going back to the city. Back home.”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N bickered in frustration trying to pull away from Negan when he attempted to touch her arm again. “I’m going alone.”

“Give me a fucking break Y/N,” Negan begged of her, sadness behind his eyes that she was having a breakdown of this caliber. “You know this is what we planned. It’s what we’ve had planned all along. Don’t let your father ruin this for you. Your father asking you to leave only sped up this plan by two days.”

“Daddy asked you to leave?” Maggie wondered looking back over her shoulder at Hershel who had his hands buried in his pockets from where he was standing on the porch. It was like Maggie was completely ignoring the things that Negan had said to Y/N. “Why?”

“He demanded me to leave. Told me he wants nothing to do with me and I plan on giving it to him,” Y/N answered and the sound of Annette getting upset from Y/N’s confession was heard. Refusing to look at the rest of her family, Y/N bit back on her emotions and gave a simple nod. Having her eyes locked on Maggie’s made sure that she had her full attention with Maggie. “You should feel so good though Maggie because he let me know that you are better than me in every way. Negan sees it. He sees it. Glenn sees it. Apparently, everyone knows that I’m trash and you’re better than me.”

“Why does that whole statement feel like you are angry with me?” Maggie was offended that it felt like Y/N was mad with her over the things that Hershel undoubtedly said the night before. “It’s not my fault that daddy is the way that he is with you. It never was,” Maggie asserted herself and there was fury in her green eyes when she spoke. “I told you last night that talking to him about your mother was going to end up with you in pain. It was going to ruin things. I asked you not to do it.”

“I tried listening to you,” Y/N reminded her of how she tried to leave with Maggie, but Hershel trapped her in the kitchen. Maggie was there, she knew that it took a while for Hershel to force Maggie away. “I didn’t get an answer anyways. I was just reminded again about how imperfect I was. How awful I am. I know it’s not your fault Maggie, you really are perfect. And I know that.”

“No she’s not,” Negan threw his hand up in the air drawing Maggie’s eyebrows to bounce up. “No one is fucking perfect and certainly not Maggie.”

“What the fuck Negan?” Maggie scowled at her ex-lover when Negan shot her a glare and his hands found his way to his hips.

“No one is perfect,” Annette tried making her way down the steps to get everyone to calm down. “I don’t know what happened, but we should probably head back inside and talk things out. Your father may have said something ridiculous last night, but this is my home too and I have a say in who stays and who goes.”

“I agree with her,” Negan blurt out, his hands pointing in the direction of Annette. “We are all emotional right now and I think we need to talk some things out. Rushing into decisions fueled on confusion and anger will only hurt people more.”

“Wait, I’m really having a hard time understanding…” Glenn pushed forward into the group still holding onto the letter and the ring that Y/N had left behind for him. “If you don’t know about Maggie and me, then why did you break off the engagement and want to leave without me?”

“Come again?” Y/N stammered, her lips parting when everyone in the group went silent. Turning toward Maggie, Y/N let out a hesitant laugh and looked to Glenn. “What do you mean about you and Maggie?”

“Listen,” Maggie held her hands up in a pleading motion to try to calm the situation. “There is an explanation here.”

“I’m all fucking ears Maggie,” Y/N chided, her hands curling up into fists at her sides when she felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. “What explanation is that?”

“I was spending a lot of time with Glenn because there was always things going on. And we started really enjoying being around each other,” Maggie slowly spoke out, her hands gradually raising up to try to hint for Y/N to keep calm. “One thing led to another and we ended up…sleeping together.”

“Good lord,” Hershel scoffed from where he was standing on the porch, lowering down to bury his head into his hands when he listened to the drama that was going on in his family. Everyone made some kind of noise in response to what Maggie had said aloud.

“It was an accident and we didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did,” Maggie explained to her sister drawing a laugh from Negan’s lips when he looked to Glenn with a shocked expression. “We just realized that we had so much in common and I know that he’s your fiancé, but things just happened and we wish we could have changed it, but we can’t.”

“Glenn?” Negan repeated pointing toward Y/N’s fiancé letting out an amused breath. Cutting through the anger with his laughter had others looking to him confused. “Fucking hell Glenn, you were supposed to be the good one between the two of us.”

“I’m not a bad guy,” Glenn claimed, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. This was not a situation Glenn was comfortable in and he hated being the center of attention with all eyes on him. “I kept trying to tell Y/N yesterday about things, but I just…”

“Got interrupted,” Y/N finished looking to Maggie knowing that Glenn was on the verge of telling her something last night, but Maggie stopped him abruptly. “So it was just the one time? That’s what you are trying to tell me here? That’s it? Nothing more between you because you realized it was a mistake?”

There was a silence that followed causing Y/N to let out a stressed sound and shake her head, “That’s a no.”

“You obviously don’t like good sex,” Negan commented getting a frustrated expression from Glenn and Maggie threw her hand up in the air. “Come on Maggie, Glenn was a virgin when he got with Y/N. You really think I’m supposed to believe that he’s a good lay? That tells me you definitely fell for the personality because a sex god Glenn is not.”

“You told him I was a virgin?” Glenn seemed upset when he turned to look at Y/N with upset in his eyes. “That’s not something you should be telling someone Y/N.”

“I told her too,” Y/N stated looking to Maggie who seemed like she was about to drop from all of this happening. “I don’t know if she knew before you slept with her or after, but she knew that you were a virgin too.”

“That doesn’t make things better,” Glenn fought back, the color growing more vibrant in his face. “I told you I was a virgin because I didn’t want to make things bad for you. Telling everyone about it makes it seem like I’m horrible at sex.”

“It’s not always about the sex Negan,” Maggie looked to her ex-lover hearing Negan let out a laugh. Folding his arms in front of his chest, Negan was amused to hear this shit coming from Maggie. “Sometimes it’s about connecting with someone on a level that you may not understand, but it’s there. That’s what happened with us. We were just connecting and things happened. It doesn’t have to be good sex for it to happen more than once.”

“Are you saying I’m not good at sex?” Glenn huffed, turning to look at Maggie. There was a silence between all of them and Negan gave a tip of his head. “I’m not bad at it. I thought you enjoyed it with all the times it happened.”

“All the times it happened?” Y/N chuckled repeating the words of Glenn which only worried Maggie more. Glenn seemed more upset that Maggie said he was bad at sex than he seemed upset over what was actually going on here right now.

“Don’t worry bud, with more practice you are bound to get better. Hopefully,” Negan mocked Glenn, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder firmly. Shoving Negan’s hand away had the two girls groaning out in disgust over the two men’s reaction. “I’m just trying to be positive here.”

“By mocking me?” Glenn went to bicker with Negan further and it only had Negan chuckling in amusement.

“Not everyone is good at sex Glenn, some people have it,” Negan started, pointing toward his chest before pointing back to Glenn, “Some people don’t. That doesn’t mean people aren’t going to want to be with you.”

“I can’t believe this was going on under my roof,” Hershel seemed overwhelmed while he rubbed at his face. A loud sigh followed when Annette moved in beside Y/N to get her to try to calm down. Moving closer to the group of them, it was obvious Glenn looked like he was about to pounce on Negan for embarrassing him. Y/N looked like she was going to freak out and Maggie appeared to feel like she just wanted to disappear from the moment. Stepping in beside Glenn had Y/N’s eyes raising up to Hershel. “You see what you caused by coming back here?”

A loud exhale escaped Y/N’s lungs with how that seemed directed at her, “What I caused?” Y/N snapped back at Hershel, a rage flooding through her veins. Pushing through the crowd and toward her father had Annette trying to reach out to her. “Maggie fucks my fiancé under your roof and I’m the problem? I caused this?”

“I told you,” Hershel advanced toward her, shaking his head when he looked to Maggie and Glenn, “you would have known last night if you would have just listened. Anyone with eyes could see the boy was smitten with Maggie. When it comes to you and your sister, people are always going to pick your sister.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Negan called out from where he was standing, attempting to move forward, but Y/N placed her hand in over the center of his chest to get him to stop before he could get in Hershel’s face.

“This is the second time that Maggie has done this to me,” Y/N reminded her father, her tone getting even more upset hearing her father defending what happened with Maggie and Glenn. “First, she did it with Shane and that fucking destroyed me. I was just a teenager dad. And then she does this with my fiancé and it’s my fault? How did I cause this?”

“Maybe if you spent more time on him and less on worrying about me, it might have not actually happened,” Hershel grumbled under his breath and he knew what it was going to do to Y/N with tears burning at her eyes. “You were so damn busy focusing on hating me that you allowed the two of them to spend time together. Can you blame the boy for falling in love with your sister?”

“I don’t know if you genuinely believe you’re a decent fucking person, but you’re a vile piece of shit,” Negan spat trying to get around Y/N, but she did her best to keep the two of them separated. “Who the hell says this kind of shit to their own child? No wonder she feels so shitty about herself with the way that you talk to her. You deserve to be knocked on your ass old man.”

“Negan, please…” Y/N begged doing her best to keep Negan from getting himself in trouble. “I can handle this myself.”

It took Y/N touching his face to pull his attention away from Hershel. Behind his angry hazel eyes, Negan obeyed when she asked him to stop. Even though he wanted to rip this fucker limb from limb, he allowed her to take control of the conversation.

“I don’t even love Glenn, but to hear that coming from your mouth is so fucked up,” Y/N declared, her voice breaking from all the yelling and upset that was going on between them. “You have no idea what you do to my self-esteem Hershel.”

“You didn’t love me?” Glenn spoke in a whisper instead of Hershel responding to Y/N. It wasn’t the person that she wanted to talk to, but it pulled her to look away from her father toward Glenn. Lowering the letter and the ring down at his sides, Glenn visibly looked upset to hear that.

“Why are you acting upset? You didn’t seem to care when the two of us were together? Yet all of a sudden last night you have a change of heart?” Maggie pushed finding herself fed up with the way that Glenn was responding to things. “You told me that you loved me.”

“I love how this was sold as a mistake and now the two of you love each other,” Y/N shook her head with disappointment behind her voice. “Is it real this time Maggie or was it your attempt to actually upset me again for something I’m sure I’ve done to scorn you?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you Y/N,” Maggie suggested throwing her hands up in the air. It was horrible that her whole family was hearing all of this. “What happened with Shane was me being an awful person. I did terrible things back then and I know that. I want us to be close again Y/N. I wanted things to go right. Having this happen with Glenn was the last thing I wanted.”

“Now Maggie has two men fighting over her and then there is you,” Hershel waved his hand in the air pointing over toward the car. “Weren’t you leaving?”

“Okay old man fucking river,” Negan couldn’t hold it in any longer stepping forward, urging Y/N behind him in a protective stance. “I have had it up to here with your fucking nonsense with the way that you treat Y/N. If you weren’t so fucking old, I would knock you on your ass and I’m still considering doing it. I don’t know what the hell is wrong inside of you that makes you want to treat one of your children, one of your own flesh in blood like you do, but you are one sick son of a bitch. And I’m not fighting anyone for Maggie because Maggie and I broke up last night. Reason being, she told me she cheated on me and I told her I was doing the same. And you know what? I’m head over fucking heels in love with your daughter and it’s not Maggie. It’s Y/N and I’ve had it up to fucking here with the way you treat her.”

Again, every person in the crowd made a sound that was either shocked or upset, but Negan didn’t give a shit what they thought.

“Hello Jerry Springer,” Shawn whispered heading over toward the swing that was on the porch to take a seat on it knowing that this was only going to go south from here on out.

“I really don’t care what you fucking think of it either. Y/N is perfect in every way fucking possible and because of you she can’t fucking see it,” Negan was already so upset that Y/N was so prepared to leave since Hershel left her with some terrible thoughts last night. “All I want to do is be with her and she’s so goddamn focused on the horrible shit that you say to her.”

Everyone still seemed so shocked about the truth that he dropped, but Negan just felt his anger building up further inside of him, “Since you’re so big on fucking rules Hersh, I fucked your daughter in your house so many fucking times. We did it in the barn. We did it in her bedroom. We did it in the attic. Both your daughters have called me daddy Hersh. And you know what? I’m a better daddy to both of them than you ever will be. At least I made them feel fucking good. You on the other hand are a miserable piece of shit.”

A gasp fell from Maggie’s throat when Hershel’s face grew red, his breathing growing stronger. There was silence and it was broken up by Beth letting out an amused chuckle, “Holy shit.”

“You’ve been sleeping with Negan?” Maggie called out from behind them getting Y/N’s attention. Hershel had stepped back and away into the house when Maggie approached the two of them. Looking to Negan, Maggie pointed over toward Y/N noticing the way that Negan nodded. Maggie lifted her hand like she was going to speak before turning to quickly bring her knee into Negan’s groin. A groan filtered through the air when Negan fell forward into the snow, his hands clasping onto himself. “That’s really low Y/N.”

“Maggie!” Annette chastised her stepdaughter for what she did to Negan who was down on the ground in pain.

“What I did is low?” Y/N lowered down in attempts to check on Negan with his face buried in the snow. His face was red and the vein at the side of his neck was bulging after how hard Maggie kneed him. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. You slept with my fiancé. I slept with Negan the night before we came here. I didn’t even know he was your boyfriend when the two of us slept together the first time.”

“Bullshit Y/N! This is because of what I did with Shane. You slept with Negan to get back at me for the stuff with Shane,” Maggie insisted which in follow had Y/N rolling her eyes. “You know that I’m right. You always held that Shane shit over my head, so when you had the chance to get your nails into my boyfriend…”

“You have no fucking right to be saying this when you were sleeping with my fiancé,” Y/N corrected Maggie on the way that she was acting, amusement flooding her veins at the thought. “I knew you would pull the Shane thing over me. I should have seen this coming a mile away. I actually did. I told Negan I had to break it off with him originally because I knew it was the way that you would react.”

“Because it’s fucking true,” Maggie bickered with her younger sister while Negan continued to lay between the two of them after Y/N slowly got up to stare down her sister. “There is no other reason for it.”

“I had no idea that Negan was your boyfriend. We were alone at the Christmas party for our work. We got to talking and then we got intimate with one another,” Y/N thought back on what happened with her and Negan. Lifting his hand up, Negan reached for Y/N’s hand and she helped him back up to his feet. Negan’s hand was cupped firmly over his groin holding himself and Maggie scoffed. “I didn’t know he was your boyfriend Maggie because you refused to be in my life over something that Hershel did when we were kids. If you actually tried to stay in contact with me, then this would have never happened. I was just so in love with Negan that I couldn’t stop what we started before we knew you two were together. I’ve never felt for anyone the way that I feel for Negan. I love Negan very much.”

“And so did I,” Maggie suggested making Y/N roll her eyes. “I did.”

“You only liked being with Negan because you thought he was a good fuck and because he had a big dick,” Y/N reminded her of the things that Maggie bragged about when they were alone together about Negan. “You didn’t care about Beau, Erin or the things that made Negan tick. You just cared about whether you got off or not.”

“I am so uncomfortable right now,” Glenn whispered under his breath after what Y/N just blurt out in front of everyone.

“Good for you,” Shawn waved his hand about in the air and Annette hushed him. “Hey, if he’s got it you gotta give the man credit.”

“Shut up Shawn,” Maggie demanded of her stepbrother and he threw his hands up in the air. “It was more than that.”

“Was it though?” Negan could barely get a line out without wincing, but he shook his head. “Our relationship wasn’t that deep Maggie. You and I both know that.”

A loud booming sound went off that drew all of them to jump and they looked back to see that Hershel was standing on the porch with his shotgun in his hand, “Listen here. I’ve heard enough of all of this. You’re going to gather your things and you are going to get the hell out of here.”

“Holy shit,” Negan laughed when he realized that it was him that Hershel was pointing the shotgun at. An amused rumble fell deep from within his throat when he shook his head. “What are you gonna do Hershel? Fucking shoot me?”

“If you want your kids to still have a father, you are going to gather them and you are going to get off my property,” Hershel asserted himself, stepping down from the porch. It didn’t scare Negan that Hershel had his gun on him, instead Negan actually laughed. “I’m warning you son.”

“You’re not gonna…” Negan cussed out, stumbling backwards in the snow after Hershel shot at Negan’s feet, but ended up just missing him. “You crazy old son of a bitch.”

“Hershel!” Annette called out to her husband trying to draw him to knock it off. “What in God’s name are you thinking?”

“Daddy!” Maggie gasped attempting to try to help Negan up to get away from Hershel.

“Why the hell are you shooting at only me and not him?” Negan demanded to know, scrambling back in the snow again realizing how close he was to getting shot. “Both him and I did the same exact thing, yet I’m the one that is getting shot at?”

“Hey,” Glenn stepped back with Negan pointing back at him. “I don’t need to be getting shot at for this.”

“That would be a hate crime Negan,” Beth suggested drawing everyone to look back at her. Having all eyes on her felt uncomfortable, but they were all floored with her answer. Shrugging her shoulders, she pointed toward Glenn and shook her head. “I mean, it would be.”

“What is going on?” Beau’s voice called out from where he was standing at the door after hearing the gun go off. A sense of worry flooded his veins when he saw that Hershel pointed the shotgun back at Negan again. “Erin is upstairs! What in the world are you doing Mr. Greene?”

“You get up there and you grab your things! Leave!” Hershel demanded only to feel Y/N reaching for the gun. Fighting with her father, she finally got it from his hands and heard Hershel releasing a frustrated growl.

“Hey! Hey!” Beau moved forward on the steps, holding his hands out. “How could all of you be doing this when Y/N is pregnant? The stress and getting physical with her won’t be good for the baby! You need to stop this right now!”

“The baby?” Maggie repeated with a sense of shock and even Y/N’s eyes got big. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant?” Y/N questioned looking to Negan with a confused expression and Negan half laughed.

“He took the whole trying for a baby thing very seriously,” Negan answered Y/N when Shawn came over to reach for the gun in hopes of taking it away. When Shawn disappeared back into the house to put the shotgun away it made Maggie let out another upset sound.

“You two are trying for a baby?” Maggie couldn’t help but be upset hearing all of that. “Please tell me that you are joking. We broke up last night!”

“Come on Maggie, we’ve been on the offs for a long time,” Negan reasoned with her knowing that it all sounded bad, but it was just how things were. “Yes, we want to have a baby together. Yes, we are trying for a baby and we are engaged. We are going to get married on New Years.”

“How are you engaged when we were engaged?” Glenn still seemed so confused by everything watching Y/N lower her head into her hand. “I don’t understand how the two of you are planning this future together when you were engaged to me.”

“Because she didn’t love you,” Negan answered for her, finally getting up and wiping his hands off on his pants. “And I really don’t think you have a right to be offended there Glenn. You and Maggie cheated as well. Acting so surprised isn’t a good look for you.”

“I can see why Hershel shot at you,” Glenn hissed, stepping forward in the snow to push into Negan’s chest.

“Enough!” Y/N screamed out, finally tipping her head back and letting out an overwhelmed sound. With so much bickering, she couldn’t help but think this was genuinely all her fault for causing all of this drama. “You all need to just stop this shit. You want to know why Negan is the one being shot at?” Y/N turned to her father feeling her heart hammering inside of her chest. “You might think it’s because Negan is disrespectful. No. That’s not it. And it can’t be because he slept with both of Hershel’s daughters. Hell, Glenn did the same thing. Glenn even had sex with Maggie under the same roof which Hershel acted like that was sacrilegious to do. The thing is the reason that Hershel shot at Negan is because Negan cheated on his sweet, sweet Maggie. It has nothing to do with the fact that Negan and I got intimate all over the place. It’s not because Negan says it like it is. It’s because Negan fell in love with me and he dumped Maggie.”

A silence fell over all of them when she called Hershel out for his behavior. And when they thought about it, it did actually make sense what she was saying, “Come on Hershel. Tell me that I’m wrong. When you found out that Glenn slept with Maggie, you told me that it was my own fault. That I deserved it. You didn’t get upset with him for cheating on your middle child. You shot at Negan because he cheated on your favorite.”

“Wow,” Glenn muttered, his words coming out quietly when he actually thought about what Y/N was saying. “Mr. Greene, I did do the same thing that Negan did. It may even be worse what I did because I was engaged to Y/N.”

“Are you asking me to pull the shotgun out on you son?” Hershel questioned, his gaze locking with Glenn who shifted on his feet uneasily. “Then don’t speak up.”

“Yeah, how dare Glenn make a good point. How dare he have the common sense to add two and two together,” Y/N went off on her father feeling her body shaking with how upset she was. Hershel’s face was red and he was saying nothing. “Glenn was engaged to me and he found love with Maggie. Which hey, good for them. I’m glad for them. I find love with Maggie’s boyfriend, not knowing that he was Maggie’s boyfriend and suddenly we are the ones that are wrong? This only confirms everything I’ve said with the way that you are with me.”

No one said a thing and Y/N sighed loudly knowing that her father would never admit to the things that he did that were in a negative light toward her.

“Daddy,” Maggie finally spoke up, folding her arms out in front of her chest. “She’s not wrong. It doesn’t look good. Negan has two children here and you did that. We broke up last night and we were just going to keep it between the two of us until after Christmas because I knew that you wouldn’t handle it well. You do have a clear bias when it comes to me.”

Hershel scoffed and Maggie sighed, “I am in the wrong daddy. Glenn was Y/N’s fiancé and I knew that. I knew what I had done in the past with Shane and how much it hurt her, but I still let it happen. If you’re mad at Negan and Y/N, you should be just as upset with me and Glenn too.”

“What’s really sad is that I’m head over heels in love with that man,” Y/N declared, her words coming out shaken when she pointed to Negan. “When I’m with Negan and his family it is the only time I’ve ever felt seen and loved in my life. And I love his children too. Beau, he’s the most incredible boy I’ve ever met and he has the biggest heart.”

“Then let’s leave,” Beau spoke up, moving down the stairs toward Y/N seeing that she was getting emotional. “We can all leave together. We don’t have to be here. Let’s just go.”

“Beau, your father loved Maggie before I got involved with him,” she insisted feeling Negan moving in behind her to try to touch her and she shook her head. “More than anything, I want to be with you and your family Negan. I do. But I know better. I have to leave.”

“Please don’t do this,” Negan begged, his expressive eyebrows furrowing when he tried following her toward the car that she had already packed to leave. “You’re emotional right now and you just don’t know what you are doing.”

“I know what I’m doing Negan,” she frowned, shaking her head and letting out a long sigh. “I’m doing what’s right.”

“Please,” Beau reached for her this time instead of Negan, his young features visibly upset with what was going on. “Just wait for me and Erin to get our things out here. Then we can leave. You don’t have to run away. We aren’t like your family.”

“Beau,” she whispered, stepping forward to brush her fingers throughout Negan’s son’s hair. “You were the best part about this whole trip. I’ve loved every minute that I’ve gotten to spend with you because you are awesome. I’ve never met someone so talented and capable of so much at such a young age. You have the biggest heart and you stand up for what is right. Your mother and your father raised you to be such an incredible boy and I know things are going to be good for you in the future because you are amazing Beau. You really are. But my father isn’t wrong.”

Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around Beau and gave him a big hug, squeezing him tightly in her arms, “I ruin everything. If I was in your life, I would somehow end up destroying your life like I have everyone’s here. In a perfect life, I could be part of your family, but I’m far from perfect,” she stepped back and away, tears still burning at her eyes when she reached for the door to her car. “Thank you for being the best part of these days for me.”

“Hey,” Negan attempted to reach out to her seeing that she still got in the car and wasted no time in pulling away. Beau stood beside him upset, not sure how to react and Negan’s hands found their way to his hips where they rested. Silence surrounded them and right now all Negan felt was anger. Anger toward these people that they all had a hand in breaking apart one of the most amazing women he had ever known. Finally moving, he stepped before Hershel and there was still anger in Hershel’s eyes from everything that went down. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

There was no response. That was a shock.

“Go get your things and grab your sister,” Negan instructed looking back at Beau with a frown. “We’re leaving.”

----

Digging through the drawers in her office at work, Y/N continued to grab a few more things that were personal items. After packing them into the boxes that she brought with her, she leaned back in her chair and took a look at her office. Once she made it back to New York City, she tried going home to her apartment, but her mind was still going crazy. Lingering thoughts built up inside of her and it led her to come to work. Most people weren’t here because it was Christmas Eve. There were still a few people that came in to finish some things, but she was thankful that she would be left alone for the most part. Right now, what she needed to be was left alone.

If you would have told her when she was younger that she would have been one of the top people at an advertising agency in New York City, she would have never believed it. This right here was everything that she dreamt of growing up. When she was younger, New York City was the one place that her and Maggie used to always talk about. It was the one place she longed for the most because it meant she finally made it. It meant that her art wasn’t a waste of time and everything she did to get here was worth it.

Even her office was a dream come true for anyone. It the corner office is one of the taller buildings in New York City. Two walls of her office were large windows that gave a stunning view of the city and it was part of what she loved about her job here. The views were stunning and always inspiring.

When Y/N left home and finished college, she just went to the nearest city and worked her way up. So when she got a call from a rival agency in New York City it almost didn’t seem true. Convincing Glenn to go with her at the time was hard. Their original home was near his family, but he wanted to be with her. If Glenn hadn’t found love with Maggie, it might have made her feel guilty that she ended up dumping him, but it seemed like she helped him find something more anyways.

Outstretching her hand, Y/N grabbed a photo that was on her desk of their group at the company. When she got to the company, everyone was very welcoming to her. Back then, the people that were on Negan’s team were originally uneasy with her because they thought Negan would be the one in charge. It reminded her of how she treated Negan at first, always giving him a hard time. It was hard being a woman in charge considering most men never liked it. Even though Negan was always good with her, when she thought back on things, she realized that she definitely could have been better with Negan herself. It was surprising that Negan fell so hard for her because she knew that she could have been better to him from the start.

Before all of this, she knew that this was the job that Negan wanted more than anything. And at the moment? That ate away at her. She stole this job out from under Negan. For years Negan worked at this company and helped build it up to what it was today. Yet, given the chance to jumped right into this position and took it from him. There were no questions that this job really should have gone to Negan. Those in charge just wanted to prove something when they were able to steal her away from their rival company.

“You need help with anything?” a voice beckoned her from her thoughts drawing her to look to the door to see Simon standing there. “I’m going to head out and go be with the family, but I wanted to make sure that you were good before I left.”

“I’m fine Simon. Go be with your family,” she waved her hand in the air dismissively. It was obvious that Simon was curious as to why she was in her office packing things up, but he never questioned it. He just let do her thing and she appreciate that he left her alone.

“Are you sure?” Simon offered up a final time pointing back toward the rest of the open office area. “I can grab you a coffee or a dessert or something? I brought in a yule log that my wife made. It’s really good.”

“I think I’m good Simon, thank you though,” she appreciated that he was trying with her, but she almost assumed that he wanted her to unload on him and right now she wasn’t even sure what she was doing for the most part. “I want you to have a good holiday with your family.”

“Yes boss,” Simon gave a wink and tapped his hand against the doorframe before stepping back. For a moment he lingered and it looked like wanted to say something, but instead he pulled his jacket on and left.

It was weird having Simon being so nice to her since he was one of the people that hated her at first. And she didn’t blame him. His team was originally destined to take over at this part of the company, but then he had to remain where he was.

Getting up from her chair, she headed over toward the corner of her office so she could look out at the city. There were so many things running through her mind and she wished that things would be easier than they were.

The sound of her office door closing was heard and she sighed to herself, “I appreciate what you are trying to do Simon, but I really wish you would just go home to your family.”

“While I would love to go home to my family, I was hoping that you would be willing to talk,” that familiar raspy voice responded causing her heart to sink, a sharp exhale falling from her lungs. Lowering her head, she immediately knew who it was and she let out an uneasy sound. Footsteps approaching her made her cuss to herself when a warmth pressed in behind her. “What are you doing Y/N?”

“I’m packing up my things,” she responded, closing her eyes and wishing that he wouldn’t have come here and found her. “This job should have gone to you Negan. It was always yours and I stole it from you. I’m going to quit and suggest that they give you this job. You’re the one that should have had this whole time anyways. Everyone here respects you and knows that it should have gone to you.”

“Did you already quit?” Negan wondered, stepping in behind her when she finally turned to face him. It was obvious that she had been crying most of the day and she likely looked like shit. “Did you?”

“Not yet. I was going to wait until after Christmas. I was just packing things up to make it easier,” she explained looking to the boxes that were on her desk. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you,” Negan stammered, his long eyelashes fluttering before he moved over toward her desk. Opening up the boxes, Negan frowned and grabbed a few items from them. Watching him start to unpack the boxes had her letting out a frustrated breath. Negan was putting everything back where it was before and it upset her. “You’re not quitting this job Y/N. I won’t let you do that.”

“I appreciate what you are doing here Negan, but you know just as well as I do that this job should have gone to you,” she didn’t know whether to stop him or not while he continued to return her things to where they were previously. “You know that you are better in this position anyways. The people respect you, you do better work…”

“No,” Negan shook his head, ignoring what she was saying because he thought it was bullshit anyways. “You see, I like the position that I have. I like my boss and I think I’ve been the most productive I’ve been in a very long time because you and me? We make a good team. So no, you aren’t quitting because you belong here. You have always belonged here.”

“Please stop,” she begged of him when Negan finished up with the items and stacked the empty boxes to place them near the door. She wasn’t fighting him. Her body was just frozen when he stepped before her, his hazel eyes full of emotion while he looked her over. “You know just as much as I do how much you wanted this job.”

“Yeah, I wanted this job,” Negan agreed with her sucking at his bottom lip and shrugging his shoulders. “But you got this job and I realized how much I genuinely liked working with you. Trust me. We’re better together than we would be apart. I’m comfortable where I am at this place. And I don’t want it to change. This company is the best it has been in years because of us being a team and working together.”

“Negan,” she lowered her head when Negan stepped forward, his hand lifting so he could stroke his fingers in over the side of her face.

“I’m doing what you deserve,” she protested and she genuinely believed it. “I’m just going to move back to the old city that I was in and see if…”

“If you quit, I quit,” Negan vowed drawing a scoff to fall from her lips. “I don’t want to be here if you aren’t here. So if you’re thinking of leaving this place, then they are going to lose me too because I don’t want to be somewhere you aren’t.”

“Negan,” she frowned hating to hear him say that, but when she lifted her eyes, she knew that he was being serious. Here she was trying to make things better for him and give him what he wanted originally and he was giving her shit. “You’re being stubborn.”

“I am fucking stubborn,” Negan threw his hands up in the air and shrugged his shoulders. “We know that. We’ve know that for a long time now. But I don’t want to be somewhere you aren’t. So unless you want me to leave this place to…”

“You love this job,” she reminded him, a shuddering breath falling from her throat when cupped her face in his hands. “You really love this job.”

“I love you more,” Negan countered, his eyes falling up on her lips when he gave a simple shrug. “I don’t want to be here if you’re not going to be the person in charge because I’ve grown to enjoy where I am in the company. I don’t want it to change. I know the two of us make a good team. Like I said, we’re better together than we are apart.”

“We won’t be able to work together after everything,” she suggested hating that the warmth of his hands comforted her while he stroked over her face in attempts to calm her. “I don’t even know how you knew that I was here…”

“I have my ways,” Negan responded with a long sigh when she turned away from him and headed over toward the window to look out at the city.

“In other words, it was Simon,” she thought aloud knowing that he was the only person that could have told Negan that she was here.

“You know,” Negan began, his voice sounding sad when she gazed out at the city. “I wish you wouldn’t have run off like you did.”

“It was better for everyone that I did,” she claimed still feeling incredibly emotional about everything that happened back at the farm. “I was just going to make things worse and it was going to cause more fighting. It was better that I left.”

“Me and the kids left immediately after too,” Negan informed her stepping forward to caress in over her shoulders. Even though he knew she was upset and she was confused about how she felt with things, he wanted to show her that he was still supportive of her. “I don’t think you realize how much me and the kids do actually love you.”

“I hear you,” she whispered, shaking her head when the warmth of Negan’s body pressed in closer to hers. It was never a question of if they loved her or not. She knew that they loved her. They showed it in their actions and their words. It was just the truth that she knew about herself that kept her from them. “The problem is exactly what I said though Negan. I have so much baggage and I’m a mess…”

“As do I,” Negan reminded her, tipping down to nuzzle his nose in against the side of her neck. God, she hated that her body loved him as much as it did. Even the smallest things he did had chills filling her veins. “I’m a fucking asshole who pisses everyone off. I have loads of baggage that comes with being with me so it shouldn’t bother you. Your baggage is something I’m very willing to take on and help carry with you. Because I love you.”

There was so much that she wanted to say, but she just couldn’t. Instead she stayed in front of the window with Negan wrapping his arms around her to hold her tightly in his grasps, “I fucking love you so much. I understand that you are a broken. I’m broken too, but for the first time in a very long time I feel whole again. And it’s when I’m with you.”

Urging her to turn in his arms, Negan brushed her hair back behind her ear and shook his head, “I know why you feel the way you do and I understand everything being overwhelming. Your family is overwhelming and they have trained you to always blame yourself. To always feel bad about who you are, but I like who you are. I love you. I love everything about you. Waking up with you in my arms over the last few days has been the best possible thing I could think of because it’s the one time that I truly feel alive. Where my heart finally feels like it’s beating again. I always felt cold to everything, but with you, I feel that warmth again.”

Having Negan confess his love to her in this situation had her crying. After everything that happened, he was still doing his best to try to convince her of his love.

“You are beautiful. You are sweet. And you hold my heart in your hand. Everything I am is yours,” Negan peppered kisses over her face with every word he spoke drawing her body to shake. “I meant what I said when I told you that if I couldn’t be with you, it would fucking destroy me.”

“I know that’s what you think Negan, but being with me would be worse for you than being apart from me,” she tried to suggest and the expression that he gave her showed that he felt otherwise. “I’m serious Negan. It might hurt right now, but if you were with me, you would feel more pain in the long run.”

“You have a very skewed view about the woman I love,” Negan stated with a firm shake of his head, his thumb and index finger capturing her jaw to get her to look up at him. “I see you for who you really are Y/N. Not this version of yourself that your father has made you believe that you are.”

A shuddering breath fell from her throat when Negan knelt down before her on one knee, his hand grabbing a hold of hers while the other reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a jewelry box. Pulling open the top, Negan revealed a gorgeous engagement ring that took her breath away and she felt her eyes tearing over, “Erin and Beau helped me pick this one out. We all agreed it was the best one for you because it reminded us of you. Regardless of how you feel about things, you stand out to us Y/N. You are beautiful. You lighten up a room and you shine like no other when you let yourself shine.”

Holding the ring up, Negan’s dimples became more prominent with his smile expanding out over his features, “I love you with everything that I am Y/N. When I’m with you, I feel whole and when I’m not, I’m in physical fucking pain. Everything hurts when you’re gone because I love you so fucking much. I want to be the person that you come to when you’re sad. I want to be the arms that hold you when you need that comfort. I want to wake up every morning and see your face because your face makes me the happiest. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

It was quiet. Most people were gone, so it was actually scary quiet how everything was when Negan wasn’t talking, “It’s Christmas Eve Y/N. I know this ring isn’t as sweet as our previous one, but I think it was perfect for you. Y/N, will you make me the happiest fucking man alive and do me the honor of marrying me?”

A whimpering breath escaped her lips. She was crying. He was crying. This was what she wanted more than anything. This was a perfect proposal in a place that actually meant something to her. Yet, she didn’t answer. Lowering her head had Negan letting out an uncomfortable sound because she didn’t respond like he thought she would.

“You have can have that perfect life Y/N. We can make it, together,” Negan stroked his thumb over the top of her hand, lowering his head to try to get her eyes to connect with his. “We’ll get married on New Years. You can move in and we can start a family, together. With the four of us, we will be the thing that you always deserved. A family that loves you, that wants you happy. We can keep trying for a baby together. We can have the perfect life, all you have to do is just say yes.”

Y/N’s face scrunched up and a saddened sound fell from her throat, “I know that you are upset about what happened at your family’s home, but they are just a mess. They have been victim blaming you all along making you think you are the bad person, but you’re not. Don’t let those people determine your future and your happiness Y/N. Let me, Beau and Erin give you the love that you always deserved.”

“Negan,” she began, using her free hand to reach up to wipe at her eyes with the back of it. Call her a fool, call her what you want, but she knew that she was not what was best for Negan and his family. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Pulling her hand away from his had him letting out hurt exhale when she moved around the office to go over to the couch to sit down on the edge of it. Negan remained still in the position that he was in, his body slouched over and his hand that was holding the ring lowering down to the ground. Turning down the best proposal she would have ever likely gotten was against everything that she wanted, but she felt like saying yes would be greedy and hurt those that she actually cared for.

“You and your family deserve better than me,” she made it clear how she felt hearing Negan’s breathing loud while he braced his hands on the floor of her office. “You are a gorgeous man, with an incredible job. I know you can find better than me.”

“There is no one better than you,” Negan whispered, finally get back to his feet. When his eyes met hers, it took her breath away to see that he was actually crying. Full on crying over how this was going. “Why can’t you see how much I fucking love you? I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want to keep looking. I know how my heart feels and it loves you. It wants to be with you. No one else. Stop letting your father fucking rule your life Y/N. You aren’t the person he let you believe that you are. You found someone who loves you more than life itself. Someone who would do anything for you and they would go to the ends of the Earth to make you happy, yet you are denying yourself that happiness. Because of what some angry, old farmer said to you? I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too,” she whispered feeling the noticeable chest pain that she had because it hurt to hear Negan upset and to see him that way. “I love you so much. It’s crazy how much I love you Negan. I meant everything I said. With you is the only place I’ve ever felt like I belonged in this world…”

“Then marry me,” Negan begged one final time, a tremoring breath falling from his throat, but once again it was followed up with a shake of her head. “I don’t understand why you are doing this to yourself. To me.”

“I just can’t Negan,” she whispered, her breathing uneven when he dropped his arms down at his sides. “I can’t. I’ll consider staying at this job, but us? We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

Getting up from the couch, she stepped forward to drag her hand down over the side of Negan’s face. There was misery in his eyes when she headed for the door leaving him alone in her office. It hurt seeing him like that, but she knew deep down if she were to marry Negan, she would only give him more trouble in the future. She wanted him happy and, in her mind, the only way he could be happy is he found something better than her.

----

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