#happy star wars day !! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

Back To You

➪the one where anakin is slipping away and needs you more than ever.

Part 1 | HAPPY MAY THE 4TH (had to get this out for today)

Warnings: self deprecating thoughts once again, anakin on the verge of turning evil, angst, fluff, insecurities, mentions of insecurities, mentions of death, urges to kill

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Your reflection stared back at you, your own eyes looking at you with pity.

Poor, lonely Y/n.

With tense shoulders, you shudder out a deep breath and avert your eyes to the marble of the countertop.

You hated when your thoughts ran around in your head like this. It didn’t happen often, no, not anymore. You weren’t a teen anymore, you had no excuse to feel like this, yet you just couldn’t help yourself.

Taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, you miss the way Anakin appears in the doorway, his brows furrowed and his shoulders tense, matching yours. “Y/n,” it was as if he knew what was happening, felt the way your own body was attacking itself with a sense of hatred and burden.

You look back up and meet his eyes in the mirror, a small whine of embarrassment leaving you. “I wish you wouldn’t see me like this,”

Anakin hadn’t seen you act this way in many months, not since you were on the verge of becoming an adult. Your shoulders shaking beyond your control, the crease in your forehead, the quiver in your voice. He hated all of it.

“Wish all you want,” he said as he stepped into the room. “I still see you.”

Crossing the short distance, Anakin stands behind you, his height towering over yours as you look at each other in the mirror. “You want to know what I see?” You quietly ask him and he stays silent, his eyes giving you a look of warning that told you all you needed to know. No, if you see anything negative about yourself and voice it to him, he doesn’t want to know what you see. You say it anyway. “I see someone unworthy of love, of being cherished. I don’t see a powerful warrior like I’ve been told I am. I’m nothing.”

Ankin places his hands on your waist, his grip firm as he stares you down in the reflection. “That is not true and you know it,” his voice was stern and left no room for arguments.

But you were far too stubborn for your own good, a trait Anakin saw in himself and one of the many reasons he fell for you in the first place. “But it is true, Ani,” you protested, looking at yourself with a hint of embarrassment and disgust. “Look at me.”

“I am,” his voice was the most serious you had ever heard it, something that makes you promptly stop talking. You weren’t intimated, no, Anakin would never put you in a situation in which he held his power and strength over you, but you were, however, intrigued. So much so you waited for him to continue, a ghost of a frown painted on your lips. “You are so much more than that. Your mind may betray you, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. You are strong and more powerful than you even know. One day you will save this galaxy, and you don’t even know it yet.”

Your lip quivers and you repress showing the chill that runs down your spine. “What if I don’t believe that?”

“You will,” he affirms. His arms wrap around your middle and he leans down so his chin is hovering over your shoulder. You rest your arms over his as you hold eye contact, your sight slightly blurred. “And until that time comes, I’ll be here to remind you just how powerful you are.”

One by one, all the happy memories Anakin had with you faded into nothing, his heart cracking each time he felt a part of him slip away.

His body nearly gave up on itself as he stumbled his way through the temple. One of his hands shot out to catch himself, his palm pressing flat against the wall as he steadied his footing. “Get it together, Anakin,” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath in hopes to relieve some of the pressure he felt was weighing him down.

It was then when Obi-Wan rounded the corner and saw his padawan struggling to keep himself up right. He was at his side in seconds, his hand wrapping around the younger man’s arm and pulling him into a standing position. “Anakin,” he said, worry lacing his words. “Are you alright?”

Anakin gave him a slow nod, his dull eyes focused on the stone of the floor. He thinks back to his last conversation with you, a full three weeks ago, and his eyes abruptly shut, your words repeating in his head before leaving his own mouth. “I fear I’ve fallen ill,”

Obi-Wan gives him a concerned look, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy,” he says, noticing the way Anakin refused to show him his eyes and the way his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “Relax, Anakin. You’re needed for the mission of protecting Senator Padmè and we can’t have you falling weak a few days before you’re set to leave.”

Anakin felt his ears begin to burn at the mention of Padmè, his jaw locking tightly as he lifted his head. He still refused to meet the eyes of his good friend, his shoulder raising quickly and making Obi-Wan’s hand fall off it. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered before walking forward and leaving the older man behind with a worried look.

His strides were quick, his chest heavy with a rage he had never felt before as he opened the door to his room with a rough shove.

Protecting Padmè? The woman he had not spoken to since the night you left him? Putting his life on the line for the person who was the reason he hadn’t been happy in weeks? The one who helped him destroy the best thing in his life?

Not a chance.

Anakin’s shoulders tensed up as the door slammed shut behind him, his eyes flickering all over the near-empty room.

He wasn’t as in control as he thought he was, and that much was obvious when he turned the entire place upside down a mere ten minutes after you walked out the door.

He couldn’t help it, everything reminded him of you.

The thought of staying in this room that had always meant to shield you from the harsh reality by himself was one that kept him up at night. The dark circles that had formed under his eyes the day after you left him had become a seemingly permanent addition to his appearance.

He almost didn’t recognise himself when he first noticed the deep and dark marks that shadowed his face. He assumed they’re from the lack of sleep he was getting, or not getting.

He couldn’t sleep without you. He found that out pretty quickly.

After he had finished destroying every piece of furniture in the communal area of the room, he felt his bones ache with exhaustion. His eyes were burning and his hand was sore from throwing anything it could grab a hold of. Yet, as he made his way to the bed, the same one he had been holding you on - if only for a couple of seconds that he wished he could have back - only minutes prior, he discovered that he couldn’t fall asleep.

His mind wouldn’t turn off, past memories with you flashing behind his eyes at a rapid pace. As he tried to get his body to relax and succumb to the darkness, he had no control over the way his hand twitched in the direction in which you always were, right beside him. Your side of the bed was cold, yet another thing he wasn’t used to as you were always there, for him to hold, for him to hide with.

Now, three weeks later, and he is no better. He had gotten about five hours of sleep in total during the time he spent away from you, and it wasn’t something he had a say in.

He wasn’t able to sleep in the bed, that much was obvious after his first failed attempt. After he rummaged through the dresser and grabbed onto one of your robes, he held onto the fabric with both hands. His face buried in it as he fell to the floor, his back pressed to the end of the bed.

He fell asleep a few minutes after that, a death grip on your robe - one of the few things he had left of you. When he awoke half an hour later, he was met with the still dark sky and a pain in his lower back.

It didn’t take him long to start tearing apart that dresser.

The few times he fell asleep after that were at random.

While waiting for Obi-Wan to show up for a day of training, Anakin had fallen asleep against the wall of the meditation room. He was woken up an hour later by another Jedi who looked at him with concern and a bit of pity, something Anakin loathed.

His sleep schedule consisted of quick naps in the most bizarre places, one being behind the wheel of his ship - that one nearly ended in a fatality for both him and Obi-Wan. Seeing as he was supposed to be the best pilot in all the galaxy, Anakin took Obi-Wan’s lecture without trying to defend himself as he didn’t even know what was wrong with him.

His sleep state wasn’t even a safe space. He had one dream about you, one where you came back and you held him and kissed him and told him everything he needed and had been desperate to hear.

The rest were nightmares. Or nothing at all. A void.

Anakin felt like a ghost, a shell of who he used to be.

He wasn’t happy, wasn’t consumed with excitement whenever he was set to fly, wasn’t filled with a sense of pride whenever he successfully completed a quick mission.

He felt like his body was betraying him, and the fact that he hadn’t seen even a glimpse of you since you left didn’t help at all.

The temple was big, but he didn’t realise it was massive enough to keep you hidden from him for three weeks.

Three weeks.

Nearly four without you.

Anakin was sure that when the one month mark hit, his body would no longer function at his control. It hardly was now, so he was not looking forward to seeing how he would be in a week from now.

He turns right and enters the bedroom, everything untouched with the exception of the broken dresser beside the door. His eyes narrowed on the bed and he felt, what had to be, the hundredth sharp stab that pierced his heart in the past few weeks.

“I’m nervous,” you nearly whispered, your hands running over Anakin’s bare shoulders. A single candle was lit and placed on the nightstand a couple feet from where his body hovered over yours on the bed. The flicker of orange made him look so innocent, so young and carefree, a sight you quickly decided was a blessing to see. “Will it hurt?”

Anakin leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, his arms tightening around your frame. “Maybe for a bit,” he murmured against your skin. “We don’t have to do this tonight. I don’t want you to feel rushed.”

You shake your head, your nose brushing against his as you did so. “I want to do this, I promise,” your words are quiet and the only sound that fills the dark room. It was just you and him, the outside world blocked by a door and the curtains that covered the window. You had never felt more safe. “I need this. We need this.”

It was true.

Anakin would be sent away the following morning on what would be his longest absence yet. While you had grown used to his day long missions, this one was said to be no less than a couple weeks. He had never spent that long away from you and he wasn’t coping that well with the thought of leaving you behind.

The decision to do this tonight was mutual.

He needed something to hold onto until he returned to you, and you needed the feeling of being completely loved and wanted to get you through the weeks you’d spend without him.

Anakin nodded, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “Only for a bit,” he said again before the distance was closed once more.

Anakin felt the last good memory slip away from him and his eyes darkened, an ache in his jaw as he clenched it again.

He was going to do the mission; the one where they would be counting on him to keep Padmè out of harm’s way and protect her with his life.

However, what they didn’t know was that Anakin was now treating this as a form of justice, or, in other words, an assassination.

“Y/n,” Obi-Wan greeted as he entered the meditation room. “I’ve finally found you.”

His smile was kind but told you that he wasn’t here to talk about anything good. You return the smile as best as you could, sitting up straighter and holding eye contact with him. “Master,” you say back, brows furrowing when the smile was replaced with a frown. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The man nodded, his fingers tugging on the sleeve of his shirt in a way that showed he was nervous but was trying to hide it. “It’s Anakin Skywalker,” he said and you quickly looked away. “Something is troubling him.”

Your eyes focus on the floor as you fight the urge to cry in front of Obi-Wan. It would give away the very real fact that you were well aware of what Anakin was going through, and the fact you were in a forbidden relationship with the Jedi.

Anakin.

You hadn’t heard his name in weeks, cutting off any communication with him and anyone affiliated with him, including the very man standing in front of you. Guilt creeped into you, the same guilt that had plagued you since the moment you left the crying man by himself in the room you no longer felt at home in.

The weeks you spent without the man you loved were brutal.

You had been struck with an overwhelming feeling of guilt and you carried it with you every day. Your heart broke every time you heard the hushed whispers of fellow Jedi about how the supposed ‘Chosen One’ was failing to do the simplest of tasks and had become a weak version of himself. One that didn’t show up to important meetings, didn’t give his all on quick and easy missions, and looked like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months.

The one who looked on the verge of falling to the dark side.

You didn’t want to think about that last one, despite the numerous times you’ve heard it be brought up. Never did you ever think Anakin would become the worst version of himself, become a person he was so far from and forget about everything that made him the powerful Jedi he had been for so long now.

There was no way it was because of you and how you left things. How could it? How could you mean so much to someone that they’d forget all they worked for, fought for, bled for, just because you were no longer a constant in their life?

It just didn’t make sense to you, but then again, the fact that you even had a sliver of Anakin Skywalker in the first place didn’t make a whole lot of sense, either.

He was too good for you, too kind and caring and someone who deserved the world. Something you couldn’t give him, no matter how much you wanted to.

You wanted to give him any and everything he asked for and more, but you couldn’t. And you would never be able to.

You couldn’t even give yourself the time of day and dedication needed to progress in your life, so how could you possibly help Anakin in any way?

The question had you looking up and meeting the eyes of Obi-Wan once again. “What does that have to do with you looking for me?”

“If I recall correctly, you and Anakin were quite close not too long ago,” he said and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat and how you wanted to point out just how close the two of you had been. “Is that right?”

You nodded quickly, eyes focusing on the wall behind him. “We were, but not anymore,”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Obi-Wan gave you a look of pity before he continued, “Anakin is a good person, someone who I find myself looking up to. I’m afraid something has happened….something that could lead to his demise.”

That made you stand up, your brows pressing together as you stepped closer. “What do you mean?”

The man hesitated before swallowing harshly. “I’ve been observing him and I’m worried about what I’ve seen so far. He hasn’t been sleeping or focusing. Just this morning I found him against a wall, unable to hold himself up,” he says. “He wouldn’t look me in the eye. I can’t help but fear the worst.”

Your eyes flicker between his. “What are you saying?”

You share a look before he places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m afraid we’re losing him to something he should have never seen or felt,”

“Anakin!” Your hand turned the doorknob before you could even think about knocking first. Stepping into the room, you let out a quiet gasp at the sight of destruction. Not a single thing was how you left it, not even the side of the door that faced the inside of the room. It was dented and beaten in, hints of blood here and there that told you exactly what had happened to the wood.

You stumble your way through the now unfamiliar room and head straight towards the bedroom, where you’re met with a demolished dresser. The rest of the room seemed untouched and you bent down to pick up one of your shirts, fisting the material in your hand. The rest of your clothing was thrown around the floor, some stuck on the corner of the bed that looked like it hadn’t been slept in since you left.

Dropping the shirt, you turn around after coming to the conclusion that the room was empty. You stand outside the door that led to the bathroom, your hand hovering over the doorknob.

He had to be in there, and that thought had your heart beating rapidly.

With a firm twist, your fingers press against the door and push.

Standing in front of the mirror was Anakin, his eyes glossy and staring at his reflection. His shoulders were stiff, his whole body tense in a way that had you swallowing nervously. His hands gripped the marbled countertop tightly, his knuckles turning a few shades lighter as heavy pants left his mouth.

Pushing back a small ounce of uncertainty, you step into the room. He must have been deep in thought as he didn’t notice the door open or your smaller figure enter the room. You were afraid to ask what was going on in that pretty head of his. It had to be something awful to have him this out of it.

“Anakin,” You say his name quietly, almost to the point of it being inaudible.

But he heard you. Whatever daydream he was in was ripped away the second your voice hit his ears. His eyes moved from his own and met yours in the reflection, the crease in his brow softening as a shaky breath left his lips. The feeling of relief was short-lived. “You’re not real,” he muttered, not giving you a second glance as his eyes went back to being stone cold.

It was then when you realised how much you truly meant to the poor boy. You really had no idea that you, of all people, could mean this much to someone, let alone the perfection that is Anakin.

He was so messed up to the point where he didn’t even believe he was actually seeing you.

You felt your heart break all over again. “What have I done to you?” You ask, holding back a dry sob as you take a daring step closer. “Anakin…it’s me.”

He only shook his head, his chin tilting downwards as he muttered something under his breath.

You blink back a tear or two as you cross the room, your hand tugging on his arm. “Look at me,” you nearly cry out, your grip making him turn slightly. His eyes left the mirror and landed on you. The blue orbs softened just a bit and you watched as what seemed to be a million thoughts ran through his head. You reach up and caress the side of his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheekbone as well as the scar that graced his skin. “Look at me.”

The furrow in his brow faded away as his hands left the counter, his body fully turning to face yours. “Y/n,” he whispered, his hand reaching up to wrap around your wrist as he leaned into your touch.

You let out a quiet hum to let him know that was really you and that you were here, with him. “I’m so sorry,” you say quietly, your thumb continuing to stroke his face while his stroked the skin of your wrist.

His eyes were still glossy and his whole being still seemed as if it was far away. Your other hand grasped his shoulder as you stepped closer, trying to think of what to do to get him to fully come back.

A delirious grin formed on his lips as he looked at you, still not believing you were actually there. “I missed you,” he murmured, his eyes flickering all over your face before he began to turn back towards the mirror.

You placed both your hands on his face and pulled him away from whatever trance the mirror held over him. Tugging his head down, you press your forehead against his. “I’m here,” you whisper, reaching one hand down to grab his and place it on your waist. “I’m here and I’m so sorry.”

Anakin furrowed his brows again, his head shaking as his gloved hand tightened its grip on you. “It’s not…you’re not-”

“I am,” you cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as if it’ll help stop the love of your life from turning on everything he had going for him. You weren’t sure what to do at this point. Anakin was in denial, seemingly stuck in a very fragile state and balancing on a very thin edge of becoming something he swore he wouldn’t. A tear slips down your face as you brush your nose against his, an act you’ve done too many times to count. “Please….come back to me.”

Whatever had a hold on his mind seemed to let go as you said the words he had been craving to hear, the same ones you murmured to him in the first and only dream he had about you since you left - the same ones he said to you.

He pulled back just slightly, his eyes staring into yours as his face relaxed for the first time in nearly a month. His lip quivered and his eyes filled with unshed tears, his hand that wasn’t on your waist coming up to grip the back of your neck as he pulled you into him.

You wrapped your arms around him as your face pressed against his chest, a sigh of relief and desperation leaving both of you.

“Angel,” the name falls easily from his lips, his arms tightening around you as if you would disappear at any given second - and he’d be alone again. “You’ve come back to me.”

“I never should have left you,” you say back, your voice muffled due to the sobs you were holding back. “I’m so sorry, Anakin. Please, forgive me.”

His hand slides upwards to cradle the back of your head as he quietly hushes you. “It’s okay, my love,” he says quietly, his mind becoming foggy at the fact that he had you back in his arms. “You’re okay.” He presses his lips to the side of your head, his hand refraining from pulling you back in when he feels you push against him.

“I’m not,” you shake your head, your hands fisting his shirt. “I haven’t been. I feel so bad, Anakin. I hate that I hurt you. The guilt has been eating me alive, I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.”

Your sweet voice was music to his ears and he brought his hand around to the front of your head, where his thumb brushes away your tears as he quiets you once more. “It’s alright, angel,” he says, pulling you close once again. “We’ve found each other again, there’s nothing to be sorry for. We’re okay.”

Before you could nod in agreement, his lips pressed to yours in a gentle yet firm kiss. The action made his own tears fall as he closed his eyes, begging to anyone listening that you’d still be there when he opened them again. “I love you,” you mumbled when you pulled away, your forehead resting against his cheek. “So much.”

“I love you,” he says in return, holding you close and inhaling the scent that only belonged to you - the scent that made him dizzy. “Take me back.” Let me live again.

You nod quickly, leaning up to kiss him again. “It’s you and me,” you say against his mouth, feeling the way his arms wrapped protectively around your middle.

“You and me,” he agreed, kissing you once again. Forever.

Part 3

2K notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 4 months

Text

In The Way I Need You | Part 11

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay makes it up to you after you found that now destroyed picture of him and sam, and you confess to what happened after he left jess’.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.7K FOLLOWERS

Today was one of the rare days that Clay got to work with his mom, and of course she was able to tell that something was wrong as soon as he entered the room.

When he tried to wave it off, she pressured him into going home early and resting - assuming it was something to do with his heart, which was a lot better than her finding out the real reason why he wasn’t his usual self. There was no way he could tell her that he was miserable because he fucked things up with you again.

He knew you would be there when he got home, and he was almost nervous to face you after this morning. He had the full intention to apologize to you and explain further, but you completely shut him out, and he understood why.

If you needed space, he’d give you it, but it wouldn’t make him feel any less like an asshole for having Sam’s picture in his drawer, even if he forgot about it entirely before you found it.

Clay was scared that you’d stop babysitting Joey, and they’d be alone again. You had filled in most of the hole Sam left, which was surprising in itself since you hadn’t been in his life for too long.

Since he was coming home a bit early today, he was hoping he would be able to talk to you for a bit longer. His mom wouldn’t be back until later tonight, and Clay was planning on explaining things to you when Joey goes to bed. If you even decided to stay that long and let him.

He got home at around six thirty, and he was up the stairs within seconds when he heard yours and Joey’s mixed laughs coming from the kitchen. The sound was one he wanted to hear all the time, and that just further proved how badly he needed to fix things between you and him. Because Joey loved you. And Clay…well, he really liked you and didn’t want things to end because of Sam.

Clay entered the kitchen and met your eye almost immediately, and he was forced to watch your smile fade as you set Joey down. He runs over to Clay with a big grin and a laugh as he picks him up, greeting him in the way Clay loved. “Hi, daddy,”

“Hi, buddy,” he said back, kissing the top of his son’s head before looking back at you. “Y/n.”

You seemed to have been frozen before and when he said your name, you quickly straightened up and put down the spoon you were holding. “You’re back early,” you observe and hesitantly make your way over to him and Joey. “I thought you’d be gone another few hours. I was going to clean.”

Clay shook his head and set Joey down. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off as Joey grabbed his hand. He looked tired, and Clay knew he needed to go to sleep. So with pleading eyes he said, “I’m going to go get him ready for bed. But I want to talk to you about…everything. Will you stay? Please?”

You bite down on your bottom lip and reach out to run your knuckles along Joey’s cheek. “Yeah,” you answer quietly, meeting Clay’s eyes again. “I’ll stay.”

A sigh of relief left his mouth and he was quickly taking Joey upstairs and getting him ready for bed. Once he was tucked under his covers and holding his teddy bear, Clay leaned down and kissed the top of Joey’s head. “I love you, Joe,” he whispered, then turned and made his way back to you.

You were sitting on the couch, your leg bouncing a bit as you picked at your nails, and Clay passed by the living room and continued on to the kitchen, where he grabbed a diet coke from the fridge before heading back to you. “Here,” he murmured and held it out to you.

The smile you gave him as you took it had his heart skipping a beat, and he quickly sat next to you. “You know, I got mad at my coworker today,” you say quietly as you run the tip of your index finger along the cold can. “Like, really mad.”

Clay’s lips turned upwards at your choice of a conversation starter and he leaned back on the couch. “You got mad?” He asked with a teasing tone that made your smile grow a bit. “Why?”

You bite down on your lip and lean back as well, looking over at him with a blush coating your face. “Because he’s an ass,” you answer simply, making Clay let out a surprised laugh. “He was. It was right after you left. His name is Miles, and he started saying all this stuff after you were gone and not there to defend yourself, and even if you were there, I know you still wouldn’t defend yourself because you are far too sweet to stand up to someone you don’t know, but I’m not.”

He held back a laugh at that since he knew you were probably right. Clay couldn’t even stand up to his mom or Sam when she was still around, and he knew there was a small chance that he’d actually stick up for himself to a total stranger.

You, on the other hand…he’d stand up for you, just like how you supposedly did for him.

“So when you left, I was reading through your texts that I stupidly didn’t answer and then he just had to say something. He said that you were probably some rich guy who’s stuck up and only came to Jess’ to pity poor people like him and I,” you rambled and Clay couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and grabbing your hand. Thankfully you allowed him to and laced your fingers with his. “I went off on him. I was practically yelling at him and telling him to shut up in front of all the customers and on my first day of working there. You and I weren’t even on good terms and I was still acting like we were and I probably totally embarrassed myself in front of everyone there, including my new boss.”

You were beginning to sound a bit breathless, so you stopped and waited for a few beats, and Clay didn’t say a word.

“But I didn’t care, because he was being an ass and I needed to say something to him about it because,” you stopped yourself short and Clay thought for a split second that you were going to say those three words that had been swirling around in his head for a few days now. It was too early, right? You didn’t feel that way, right? “I like you so much. You’re so sweet and kind and caring and the best dad to Joey. I couldn’t stand hearing him say all these horrible things about you when he doesn’t even know you.”

Clay smiled and felt his body heat up at the way you defended him from the coworker he’d seen eyeing you up the entire time he was visiting you at Jess’. “I don’t know what to say,” he laughed, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “No one has ever publicly defended me like that before.”

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, too, but he could tell that you were starting to feel a bit embarrassed. “Maybe it was stupid of me to risk doing that on my first day, but…I just didn’t care.”

Clay’s brows furrowed in concern. “You didn’t get fired, did you?”

“No, no, I just…I told Jess that the hot guy that came in before Miles and I’s argument was my…boyfriend, and how we weren’t doing great at the moment, and she understood for the most part,” you answer with a forced smile. “It just can’t happen again.”

Clay nodded and then when he was sure you were done, he knew it was his turn. “That picture you found, the one in my drawer? Well, it’s in about a hundred pieces right now,”

Your eyes widened and you sat up, setting your drink aside. “You ripped it up? Clay, that was your wedding photo. That day was supposed to be a good memory to hold onto,”

He just shook his head and squeezed your hand. “It’s over,” he whispered. “What Sam and I had…it’s not even a good memory anymore. That picture? It doesn’t mean anything at all to me anymore, and that’s why it’s in pieces in the garbage.”

You press your lips together in a way that told him you were holding back a smile, and he fought one off himself as he continued,

“Sam is just the person who helped give me Joey. That’s all she is to me,” he promised and watched as you nodded. “She doesn’t mean anything, and she hasn’t for a long time. You on the other hand…you’re…”

He stopped talking as he didn’t know where he was going with that. You meant so much to him and to Joey, he honestly didn’t know where he would be right now without you. But it was still so soon, and he promised he wouldn’t rush things with you. It worked so well for him last time.

“I’m what?” You pressed, leaning closer to him and reaching up to lightly grip his shoulder.

“You’re everything she’s not,” he replied, sitting up straight. “I mean, Joey is practically obsessed with you already. You’re all he talks about when you’re not here, and he’s attached to you when you are here. He’s like his dad in that way.”

The smile you give him at that could only be described as fucking beautiful, and then you were carefully crawling on top of him and straddling his lap.

Clay reached up to smooth out your hair. “You’re who I want to be with. And I’m sorry you saw that picture. I thought I had gotten rid of it a while ago,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing behind your ear. “I don’t ever go in that drawer, so I promise, I really had no idea-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his mouth that was pretty effective in getting him to forget about what he was about to say. “Clay,” you mumble when you pull away, kissing the corner of his mouth quickly afterwards. “Stop making yourself feel bad with excuses. I already forgave you.”

Clay smiled, then you were kissing him again. “I missed you yesterday,” he confessed against your lips. “I really wanted to take you out on our second date.”

You whined and pulled away. “Don’t remind me,” you whispered, dropping your head onto his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair afterwards. “I feel guilty about that. You were so cute before I found that stupid fucking picture.”

“I’m not now?” He teased and you pulled back to give him a pointed look. “Sorry.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Clay,” you mumbled, running the tips of your fingers along his jaw. “Maybe I overreacted. But I hated seeing you with her, even if it was through a photo.”

“You didn’t overreact,” he murmured, leaning up to kiss the side of your neck. “That photo shouldn’t have been in there. I promise, you won’t find any more around. She’s out of our lives.”

“Okay,” you trail off, gently massaging the back of his neck. “I missed you, too. Can we spend a day together soon? Or did I blow the one chance we had?”

Clay laughed, already knowing when the next time you and he would be alone together could be, but he decided to keep it from you for just a bit longer. “We’ll have another chance,” he promised and watched as you nodded then looked down at his lips. Without another word being spoken, you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips barely brushing against his as if you were testing it out. It reminded him of the first kiss you shared, and the memory had him grabbing hold of your hips and pressing you tight against his chest.

The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair felt concerningly good, and Clay realized that it had been a while since he felt this comfortable with a woman. Sam did a number on him and he had only let himself indulge in a few meaningless conversations with women before he decided he just wasn’t ready to move on yet.

That was before, now he was pretty much all in with you.

You adjusted yourself so you were straddling his lap, your hips pressed to his in a way that had him holding back a groan of want. He would let you decide how far this goes, even if it left him with a killer boner afterwards. “Is this okay?” You asked sweetly, pulling away just enough to be able to look him in the eye.

“Yeah,” came his strained reply as he leaned his head back on the top of the couch. “It’s okay. More than okay.”

You press your lips together, sliding your hands back down to his shoulders. “It’s not too much?” You asked quieter this time, and he adored the way you were so concerned about doing something that could potentially trigger his heart rate to spike.

Clay shook his head, bending his legs more so his thighs were a bit firmer. Your lips part in a silent gasp, and it took a lot out of him to not kiss you again as he said, “It’s not too much, baby,”

He knew that nickname did things to you. He caught the way you reacted to it the first time he called you it, and he made a mental note that you clearly liked it. “Oh, God,” you groaned, leaning in and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Clay.”

Ever since the first time he had heard the sweet sounds you make when you get like this, Clay had been determined to coax them out of you more often. It was impossible to not get riled up when your soft moans filled the quiet living room, and it was hard not to notice the fact that he usually spends most of his time in here with you.

The memory of his first kiss with you flashed through his mind, and he groaned at where that kiss led to. You on top of him, your hands tangled in his hair and your hips dragging against his in a way that should not feel so good. But it was you, and Clay was beginning to think that everything with you felt good.

Your lips brushing against his in a barely-there kiss got him out of his head and he held onto your waist a bit tighter, leaning up to kiss you properly. You returned it, pulling on his hair as you shifted your body back and forth on his lap. “Do we..” You trailed off, massaging the spot on his head where you had tugged on his hair. “We have time?” You hesitantly asked, slowing down the drag of your hips.

“I got sent home early,” he laughed breathlessly, watching as a smile formed on your lips. “My mother wouldn’t put up with my pouting.”

You laugh, shifting so you were higher up on his lap and pressing your chest to his. “This pout,” you murmur, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the hand of your other came up to caress the side of his face. “It does something to me.” Your index finger traces the outline of his lips as you begin rubbing yourself against him again.

“At least it works on you,” he teased and you bit down on your lip, leaning in to press a deep kiss to his mouth.

“So,” you dragged the word out.

“So,” he echoed, guiding the slow roll of your body. “We have more than enough time.”

You smile at him, picking up the pace again. “Feels so good, Clay,” you whimper, wrapping your arm tighter around him and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Just like how it felt upstairs in the hall.”

Clay groaned, bucking his hips upwards and making a surprised moan leave your mouth. “You sounded so pretty,” he reminisced, bunching up your shirt. “Tasted so good.”

“Oh, my God,” you moaned loudly, moving a bit erratically now. “It’s too much.”

“Are you gonna come?” He asked under his breath, unable to speak any louder than that in fear he’d give away just how much of an effect you have on him.

You nod quickly, bunching his shirt in your hands. “Are you?”

Clay leaned back against the top of the couch again, gazing up at you with a lazy smile. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “With me? Please?”

Clay grunted, in a bit of disbelief at how sweet you sounded when asking for something so dirty. He was sure he’d give you anything you wanted if you asked him like how you just did. “Come, baby,” he requested in a raspy voice, and you squeezed your eyes shut as your body shook on top of his.

He came with you, making a real mess in his boxers that he honestly didn’t care about. It’d been a long time since he was intimate with someone, but you made him feel better than he had ever felt. He was sure it was because it was with you, the girl he’s been so into since the minute he met you.

Your body stilled on top of his, your fingers trailing through his hair as you came down from your high. “How?” You asked breathlessly, pulling away from his shoulder to be able to look him in the eye. “How do you make it feel so good every time?”

Clay laughed, smoothing out your messy hair and ruffled shirt before pressing a kiss to your swollen lips. “Maybe I’ll let you find that out next time,”

With that promise, you grinned at him and pulled him down so he is laying on top of you and your arms are wound tightly around him.

Next up...some time alone..

Thank you for reading this extremely late chapter !

200 notes · View notes