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etherealising · 9 months

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interlude one | parle-moi

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summary: a glance into the final couple of weeks of carmy and baby's senior year.

wc: 13.7k

song inspo: parle-moi

please don't let any graphics hinder your imagination of fem!reader/baby, you could imagine her as a fucking smurf for all i care. any pictures used are NOT a representation of baby they just fit the chapter!!!!

also i describe hayden as atj's character in kick-ass because that's what i was watching while writing this chapter but you could imagine him as rasputin or liteally whoever you're into.

but also like atj and jaw are literally the same person just different fonts ya know? happy reading!

May 2013

Carmy watched as you manned the front of house at The Beef, you and Richie working seamlessly around each other as the both of you took turns at the cash register and running food to the customers who had decided to dine in. Carmy wouldn’t lie, he was a little miffed that Mikey had given you a job here but strictly forbade him from even thinking about working at The Beef, but it was okay because he had a plan. Carmy was going to pursue his dream of becoming a chef, not only that, he was going to become the best fucking chef he could be and prove to Michael exactly why he deserved to work alongside him at the family business.

It wasn’t necessarily fair for Carmy to be mad at you for earning yourself a job at The Beef, and he wasn’t. He knew you were only working there to save up money, he knew how badly you and your mom needed it. Things had gotten worse with your mom in the past two years. One of your aunts had come from the west coast to stay with the two of you as you finished up your senior year waiting to whisk the two of you away at the first chance she got. Carmy had met her a handful of times. She was nice he would give her that, but she always looked at him like she knew a secret he didn’t.

Leaning against the end of the counter as he waited for you to go on break, he watched as you made your way back from the dining area to the front, doing his best to capture your features. The slight sheen to your skin from running back and forth and the slight humidity that could be felt in the air. He took notice of the way your hair decorated your head, which pieces looked out of place. Carmy studied you with a curious eye, fingers drumming against the small sketchbook you had got him for his birthday. He had wanted to draw you for a while, and he tried once, but after picking out everything wrong with the drawing he decided that maybe your kind of features weren’t meant to be confined to the lines on a piece of paper.

Carmy watched as you laughed at something stupid Richie said, your laughter singing through the restaurant. Even as you turned to the window of the kitchen to share the joke with the rest of your crew, the large smile still hadn’t left your face.

You turned from the window removing the apron from around your waist as you approached Carmy, the remnants of laughter still on your face. You grabbed his hand pulling him along to the dining area where the two of you plopped down at your favorite corner table. The patrons are still there sending greetings to both of you. You nodded at Carmy’s sketchbook that now sat on the table, his hand lying flat atop it.

“Got anything new for me to look at?” You eyed the small book, always happy to look at whatever new drawing had taken over Carmy’s mind, even if they were of Claire.

Carmy followed your line of sight, a slight blush rising to his cheeks at your intrigue. He usually wouldn’t think twice about letting you parse through his artwork, your genuine interest always pushing him to keep up his hobby. “Uh, I’m not sure if you’ll want to see what’s in this sketchbook.”

Carmy’s fingers began drumming away again, the constant contact with the small book keeping him calm. You sent a teasing smile his way “Why afraid I’ll get tired of seeing your drawings of Claire?” You had meant for the quip to be a joke, although you were tired of seeing Claire’s face staring back at you through Carmy’s drawings, it wasn’t your friend's fault that she had stolen the heart of the boy you had been pining after for the better part of a year.

The frown on Carmy’s face told you that he may have taken offense to the slight joke, your teasing smile dropping as you felt the guilt creep in on you. “I don’t draw Claire that much do I?” The vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard.

You quickly shook your head wanting to appease him, “No Carm, guess I’ve just been around Mikey and Richie too much working here.” You sent him a small smile hoping to raise his spirits, “Word of advice though, some people might find it a bit weird if they knew someone was drawing them without their permission.” You leaned your head on the palm of your hand as you watched Carmy flush even more.

Carmy felt the heat of his blush rising on his neck and painting his cheeks an even deeper red, of course, you would think he was weird for randomly drawing your friend. His lack of experience and newfound fascination channeled into his drawings as he saw no other way to deal with his crush on Claire. He cleared his throat, eyes finding yours again, “Would you?” At the confusion on your face he swallowed, not wanting you to think him any weirder than he already felt, “Would you find it weird if I was drawing you?”

You watched Carmy sink into himself after asking you that question, your own heart melting a bit about the shyness Carmy exuded. “Carmen,” your hands reach out to clasp his between your own, “I would be flattered if you ever decided to draw me. Hell, maybe I’ll even commission you.” The ending joke is made to bring yourself back to reality, if Carmy was drawing you it wasn’t for the same reasons he was drawing Claire.

If it was possible for Carmy to blush even more, he was sure he would’ve looked like a tomato sitting in front of you. You always knew exactly what to say to stave his self-doubt, but recently your words had been more warming to him, something that he couldn’t explain. But he found himself hanging on to every word that left your lips a little bit more.

Before Carmy could get his response out Tina appeared by your table with two signature beef sandwiches for the two teenagers she had watched grow up. The two of you thanked her watching as she made her way back into the kitchen, not being able to spare a minute with the dinner rush starting soon.

You smiled up at Carmy before digging into your food, the warm bread and the seasoned beef caressed your tongue. You let out a sound of appreciation as you swallowed your first bite head tossing back to savor the flavors in your mouth. Carmy let out a small chuckle as he watched you, always finding your reaction to be overdramatic, he wouldn’t lie though, he was excited for the day he would earn that same reaction after you tried his food.

A content sigh escaped your lips as you wiped your mouth with the provided napkin, “I’m gonna miss this when I’m gone.” Carmy could hear the sadness in your voice, his own sense of sadness filling him as he remembered what fate held for the two of you after graduation. The two of you would be separated from each other in what felt like the first time in forever.

Carmy sat his sandwich down, slumping a little in his seat while trying his best not to bring the mood down, “You leave at the end of July right?” His question met your ears as you took in his kicked-puppy look, you remembered how well Carmy took the news when he found out. The betrayal on his face when he found out you chose to go to a college on the West Coast.

You nodded your eyes not meeting his as you tried to lessen the hurt in your heart. It's not like you wanted to be that far from Carmy but it really was out of your hands. Your mom and aunt decided it would be best to be closer to family amid your mom’s ever-declining health. “Yeah Carm, our flight leaves on the 31st.”

You took another bite out of your sandwich appetite dwindling, but not wanting to waste the food you know the crew loved making. The two of you finished your sandwiches in silence, neither of you wanting to talk about the future and more than happy just to sit in the other’s presence.

Reaching for Carmy’s plate you stacked your own on top of his before moving them onto the edge of the table, ready to take them when your break came to an end in five minutes. You sat up straighter in your seat imbuing yourself with confidence as you prepared yourself to broach the topic you weren’t sure Carmy even cared for.

“So Carm, prom is coming up, have you given it any thought?” Carmy knew you were trying to come across as nonchalant, but the gleam in your eyes told him otherwise. Hiding the small smile that graced his lips, he watched as you tried hard to act as though you didn’t care about prom. It was a bit funny to him.

“You know it's not really my scene Baby,” he watched as your shoulders slumped a bit. You had been expecting his answer so you weren’t sure why it affected you so much

You nodded your head, “Yeah, you’re right. Not sure why I brought it up.” You began playing with your fingers, you aren’t sure what you were hoping would be different this time compared to the other times you had brought it up to him. You knew Carmy wasn’t interested in you romantically, and you knew he wasn’t interested in going to prom, but you were holding out hope thinking he might pity you and join you at prom as your friend as one last hurrah before your big move.

Carmy felt bad, he didn’t mean to make you sad. He was just waiting for the right time to ask you. He knew how much prom meant to you, and had listened to you talk his ear off about going to your high school prom after your mom and his mom showed you pictures from their respective proms. He was still working up the confidence to do so though, every time he thought he was ready he would overhear the idiots in his homeroom with their own plans to ask you. Thankfully though you had rejected every advance, and what kind of friend would Carmy be if he asked you to prom at the dinghy sticky table in the back of his family’s business?

“I’ll think about it okay?” It was Carmy’s turn to reach for your hands, to assuage the sadness he could see overtaking your features. Your eyes met Carmy’s not sure if you had heard him correctly, you wouldn’t allow yourself to get too excited at the prospect that Carmy might want to attend the prom.

You sent Carmy a small smile and a nod before standing up from your seat and grabbing the two dishes still sitting on the table, “I’ll hold you to that Bear.” You headed towards the door to the kitchen disappearing from Carmy’s sight.

It was always odd for Carmy to hear you use that nickname for him. You had usually just stuck to ‘Carmen’ or ‘Carmy’ when you were feeling extra friendly. But hearing you call him ‘Bear’ always made his heart beat a little faster, the way the nickname left your lips making him feel warm on the inside. Knowing that such a special nickname had countlessly graced your tongue, a family name just for him that you had felt comfortable enough calling him always made his head fuzzy and his chest feel like it was on fire. The sound of the bell above the door snapped him out of his thoughts, he quickly gathered up his sketchbook, he didn’t know where he was headed, but hopefully, some fresh air would give him the courage he needed to finally ask you to prom.

Your shift ended an hour ago, but you always stayed later to help the crew clean up. Mikey began giving you rides home as you took on more hours, the one plus side of working for your neighbor. At that moment Tina was helping you clean the front of the house her favorite oldies CD popped into the ancient radio, the two of you had created a tradition since you started working at The Beef. Tina would shoo Richie to the back to clean her area so the two of you could catch up.

Tina had taken you under her wing when you first started working there, teaching you what she could in her spare time. Although you had no plans to work in a kitchen anytime soon, you still cherished the time spent together taking what she taught you and using them in your kitchen. Happily sharing with Tina what your mom thought about a recipe she taught you and bringing one of your mom's famous recipes for Tina to try.

Being able to connect your mom and your work mom through food always brought warmth to your heart. The women in your life all doing their best to raise you to be the best woman you could be. As you and Tina finished cleaning up, the two of you headed to the dining area where you would usually wait for Mikey as he finished up whatever he was doing in his office and Tina would sometimes keep you company.

The two of you occupied the same table that had earlier housed you and Carmy. “So did Carmy get his head out of his ass and ask you to prom?” The smile on Tina’s face showed how excited she was to hear about your progress in getting Carmy open to going to prom.

You hid your face in your hands, your big smile hiding behind it, “He told me he’d think about it, which isn’t a no but, I’m too scared to get my hopes up,” You smiled in Tina’s direction watching as she nodded the smile never leaving her face.

“Mama, why don’t you just ask him yourself?” Tina questioned searching your eyes, your smile faltered as you listened to Tina’s question, why hadn’t you just asked Carmy? It would’ve given you a straight answer, and you wouldn’t have had to wait around while he was being indecisive.

Your eyebrows pinched together as you looked at Tina in earnest, “But what if he says no?” The self-doubt creeping in, of course, you would ask him as friends, you didn’t want to freak him out but insinuating you wanted something more, even though you did.

Tina shrugged her shoulders, a small warm smile decorating her features “You can’t control his reaction Mija.” She leaned forward to clasp your hands in hers, “If you don’t ask you’ll never know.” You could always count on Tina’s solid advice to ground you.

And she was right the worst thing that could happen if you asked Carmy to the prom was his swift rejection. But the answer would always be rejection if you never asked. Tina squeezed your hands as you nodded, letting her words sink in as you calculated the best way to ask Carmy to prom.

“I see the way you look at him mama, and listen,” one of her hands shot out to raise your chin so you were looking at her directly. “It’s going to hurt if he doesn’t feel the same way, but you can’t keep living ya life waiting for him. You can be there for him as much as you want, that’s fine ma, but at the end of the day you gotta remember you’re the only person who got you.”

You could feel the tears on your waterline threatening to spill out, leave it to Tina to serve you the most heartfelt advice on a random Thursday night at a dining table at The Beef.

“I’m not saying you gotta let go of your feelings for him, just don’t lose yourself waiting for that boy to come to his senses.” With that Tina patted your hands as she stood from her seat, coming to your side of the table and planting a loving kiss on your forehead.

“You get home safe now ma, a’ight, make sure Mikey ain’t driving all stupid with you in that car.” You laughed at the jab Tina made about Mikey’s driving.

Standing up the two of you embraced each other in a hug, you were grateful to have Tina in your, and you were grateful to have met the Berzattos because without them you wouldn’t have been able to make all the wonderful connections you have now.

You waited for Tina to grab her stuff so you could walk her out. The two of you exiting The Beef you stood outside the entrance watching Tina as she made her way down the street, waiting until her petite figure was officially out of your sight before heading back inside and locking the door behind you.

Venturing to the back you stopped in the office doorway, Mikey sitting in the desk chair as Richie leaned against the desk the two of them whispering fiercely between each other. You gently knocked on the wall hoping to catch their attention, you learned the hard way that being privy to any whispered conversation these two had was never worth it.

“Uh, I’m ready when you are Mikey,” you looked between the two of them, the two giving off a more sketchy vibe than they usually did.

“You uh, didn’t hear anything you weren’t supposed to did you?” Richie’s question caused you to frown. They were definitely doing some sketchy shit that you wanted no part in.

You rolled your eyes before bending down to pick up your backpack on the floor next to the door. “You two are so fucking weird,” you crossed your arms over your chest as you looked between the two of them. Mikey finally rose from his seat and tossed you the keys that were sitting on the desk.

“Hey! That’s rude you know, I think I’m fucking great,” Richie’s response caused a tired smile to form on your lips.

“Yeah Rich, you can be cool sometimes. Goodnight Rich, get home safe.” You sent a small wave his way before leading the way to the car parked in the back of the lot, wanting nothing more than to get home, shower, and bundle up in your warm bed.

You unlocked your door before quickly sliding in and reaching over to unlock Mikey’s door. Silently rushing him along and immediately turning on the heat as Mikey settled into his seat reversing out of the lot.

“What were you and Richie even doing anyway?” You looked over in Mikey’s direction as your hands were placed in front of the vents supplying warmth to your body.

Mikey smiled at you before facing the road again your curiosity was always something he could count on, “Just keeping the business afloat. Nothing to worry over.” You nodded along, no stranger to the many problems The Beef ran into. It shocked you sometimes that it was still up and running, but you knew Mikey always found a way to keep things going.

“How’s school?” The question gained your attention, one of these talks is almost mandatory between the two of you, Mikey checking in on you and in a not-so-subtle way checking in on Carmy through you. You couldn’t pretend you knew why it was so hard for them to just talk to each other, but you guessed any effort was effort.

“Alright, I guess, just preparing for finals. Oh, guess what?” The giddiness in your voice earned a chuckle from Mikey as he nodded for you to go on. “I’m planning to ask Carmy to prom, but like as friends you know?” It was a bit ironic that every Berzatto except the one that mattered knew about your crush, but according to them, you weren’t very subtle about it.

Mikey’s laugh crumbled your resolve a bit, you weren’t sure if he was laughing at you or your idea. You flicked his shoulder sure he couldn’t feel it through his jacket, he raised his hand as a way to ward off your attack. Not that it was doing anything to hurt him.

You watched as Mikey pulled into your driveway never forcing you to cross the street on late nights. His hand reached for the ignition turning the car off as he shifted to face you in his seat.

“You know I’m proud of you right?” you nodded as you listened to Mikey’s words. “You’re gonna do big fucking things, Baby, don’t forget about us little guys alright.” You laughed a little confused about where this topic of conversation was coming from.

“I could never forget about you Brother Bear.” You teased the childhood nickname you gave Mikey pulling his lips into a smile. “I’m gonna write about you one day Mikey, gotta remember you to do that.” You watched as he just stared at you eyes roaming over your face, you reached across the console pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before moving to get out of the car.

Mikey’s hand reached out to grab your arm, “You gonna look out for Carmy even when you leave right?” You nodded at the question, feeling no need to elicit a verbal response. “Just keep an eye out for me will you, you’re good for Carmy.” You had no plans to cut Carmy off after your move, the two of you already discussed the best ways to keep in contact, the best season to catch a flight in.

“Come on now Mikey, you Berzatto’s are stuck with me for life, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” You laughed as Mikey rolled his eyes

“Get your ass in the house, Baby, I told your mom I’d stop bringing you home so late,” you nodded, picking your backpack up from by your feet on the floor. You quickly walked to your front door turning back to send Mikey a wave as he watched you get in safely.

Mikey sighed as he easily parked the car in his driveway just across the street. It was selfish but he needed you to stay in Carmy’s life in whatever way you could manage. Carmy would need you, the role you played in his life making him a better person than he already was. Mikey just hoped for your sake that Carmy put in the effort to keep you in his life, his little brother honing in on the Berzatto family habit of self-sabotage.

Mikey would speak to Carmy about it, if there was one thing he would get his little brother to understand, it was that allowing you to walk out of his life would be a colossal mistake.

Carmy was waiting for you in front of the school. Since getting your licenses the two of you had been taking turns driving the other to school, and today was his turn. He knew it would take you a good minute to make your way to the entrance since your class was located at the back of campus. It didn’t bother him though, it gave him a chance to try and calm his nerves. There was one week left until prom and he still hadn’t asked you.

He purchased the tickets a week ago. You had given him the perfect opportunity at lunch when you decided to spend the period getting help from your creative writing teacher.

Carmy just never felt like it was the right time to ask you, at least that’s what he was telling himself. In reality, he had plenty of opportunities, he just kept losing his confidence. Forcing him to constantly postpone the question he so desperately wanted answered.

For example, when he was visiting with your mom over the weekend and you were teaching him your mom’s famous peach cobbler recipe. He swore he was gonna ask you in the midst of baking, he knew you were into romantic gestures. Not that he wanted to go to prom with you romantically or anything like that. But then the two of you made a mess with the flour while trying to perfect your mom's homemade biscuits, flour getting everywhere including on the two of you.

Carmy decided as he watched you clean your face that right then was as perfect a moment as ever. The two of you were in high spirits enjoying each other's company, but then he watched as the evening light streamed through the kitchen window just perfectly. The sunlight lit up the features on your face he had somehow been overlooking for all the years he knew you. Your bright eyes and cheeky smile were solely trained on him.

And there he was standing in your mom’s kitchen, drowning in the attention you had always allotted especially for him. His smile faltered as he couldn’t help but just watch you at that moment, his breath hitched while his eyes skated over the planes of your face, the ache in his chest slowly dwindling his confidence. And Carmy decided he just couldn’t ask you that day. The timing wasn’t right. The two of you were a mess and he needed to find a bottle of Pepto Bismol asap.

So that’s how he ended up nervously waiting for you to exit school on a random Monday in May. Carmy made sure he was in the regular meeting spot as you two had dedicated it, out of the way of any other students. The two of you weren’t loners, well you weren’t, Carmy didn’t care too much for high school labels. But the two of you were fine being in each other’s presence with no need to include anyone else, and yeah sometimes you would run off with Claire or Hayden and try to invite Carmy, but Carmy didn’t need any of that. He got you and your attention every day of the week whenever he wanted, and for Carmy, that’s all he really needed.

Carmy finally spotted you making your way through the crowd of teenagers who were either waiting for their rides or just trying to prolong the day with their friends. An unconscious smile graced his features he had been waiting all day to finally just get things over with and pop the question. The two tickets held so tightly in his hands they were starting to crinkle. Letting out a deep breath, Carmy straightened up, wanting you to take his inquiry seriously, not sure his usual shyness would exhibit that he truly wanted to go to prom with you.

No longer able to wait, Carmy began walking in your direction, doing his best to avoid the bodies that didn’t care enough to pay attention to him. He made it halfway before the sight in front of him caused him to abruptly stop. Walking next to you was the tall boy he always felt himself feeling insecure around. Hayden had never shown Carmy any ill will and had even tried to include Carmy in conversation in the times he joined the two of you for lunch. But the teenager had something Carmy didn’t have; a reserve of confidence and natural charisma. The two of you had just met this year in your creative writing class and Carmy swore he would never hear the end of it.

Hayden was drinking in all your attention right now, the two of you bouncing ideas off of each other for your creative writing final. You thought Hayden was cool since your first meeting at the beginning of the year. The two of you became instant critique buddies, always asking the other to analyze a class assignment before you submitted it. At times you had thought about inviting him to hang out with you and Carmy outside of school, but you didn’t want to make Carmy uncomfortable, so the two of you remained friends inside the confines of high school.

You laughed at one of Hayden’s outlandish ideas, knowing if he turned in a paper on the topic of whatever conspiracy theory he was into at the moment they would probably withhold his diploma.

“Hey, check it out,” your eyes followed the path Hayden’s finger was pointing at, a small scowl painting your face at the scene playing out in front of you. “Looks like Carmy finally asked Claire to prom.” The words made your ears buzz, and the tickets in your back pocket felt like they were on fire now.

The two of you watched in silence as Carmy and Claire traded shy smiles with each other before he handed her one of the two tickets in his hands. When he told you he’d think about it, you weren’t aware he would think about going with someone else. The hope in your heart immediately died out as you watched the bright smile overtake Carmy’s face. You didn’t blame him, if you had the opportunity to go to prom with your crush, you obviously would have taken it too.

“You good?” The nudge to your arm broke you from your longing gaze, eyes finding Hayden’s through his dorky glasses. You nodded trying to shake the sadness off yourself, Hayden was great at reading people.

“Yeah, actually,” you took a small breath before continuing. “I know this is kind of weird, and you’re totally allowed to reject me. But would you maybe wanna go to prom with me? It doesn’t have to mean anything obviously, just two friends having a good time together.” You slipped the two tickets out of your back pocket brandishing them to Hayden. Even if you couldn’t go with Carmy you still wanted to attend prom and Hayden was a great second choice.

“Hell yeah! I’ve been waiting for you to ask me.” The lame joke caused the both of you to laugh as you shoved Hayden’s shoulder. He took one of the tickets from your hand walking backwards while still facing you. “Don’t sell yourself short, maybe I want to go to prom with you to mean something.” His loud voice catches the attention of the teenagers surrounding you. A group of underclass girls fawning over how cute they thought the scene between you two was.

You watched as Hayden disappeared to his car, a small laugh leaving your lips at Hayden’s antics, a part of you feeling giddy at the idea that someone wanted to go to prom with you as more than friends.

Carmy wasn’t sure how long he stood there staring at the interaction going on between you and Hayden, but it sure did suck the confidence right out of his insecure body. The thought of going to prom with you was just another failed idea as he was sure Hayden would ask you.

“You okay there Berzatto?” Carmy was snapped out of his trance by the presence that made their way to his side. His eyes shot to Claire’s, momentarily widening before he tried to calm his exterior. He nodded his head, giving himself a minute before even thinking of gracing Claire with an incoherent response.

“Ye-Yeah, just waiting for Baby,” his free hand raised to point in your direction as Claire smiled at him, eyes leaving him for only a moment. He dropped his hand not knowing how to continue the conversation, Claire was your friend and yeah he did have his fair share of classes with her, and she did only live down the street from the two of you. But he had never been alone with her on purpose.

The two of them stood in a stilted silence, both overcome by their shyness to say anything. Trying to ease the awkwardness Claire’s eyes landed on the tickets still tightly grasped in Carmy’s hands, finally finding an out to the silence. “I didn’t know you were into prom Carmy,” the statement reminded Carmy of what he had been planning to do in the first place.

One hand raised to run through his slightly grown-out hair, head nodding rapidly in response, “Yeah, Baby seems to be really into it.” Carmy didn’t notice Claire’s smile falter, of course, he was taking you to prom, you were the only girl that existed to him.

Carmy finally faced the girl standing next to him. The least he could do while waiting for you was hold a conversation with her. “Did you want to go?” Carmy watched Claire’s smile brighten, a confused look painting his features. Not realizing that with his overall awkward and shy personality, the girl in front of him thought this was his way of asking her to prom.

“With you?” She questioned the giddiness in her voice, easy to point out. Carmy’s eyes widened this time, this was definitely not his original plan. But he couldn’t just say no and turn her down he would’ve felt bad, plus he did have a huge crush on her, and Mikey and Richie had both told him to stop being such a pussy when it came to girls. So Carmy realized he had his answer.

“Yeah with me, i-if you want to I mean,” Carmy waited with bated breath hoping he hadn’t read the situation wrong. If Claire’s blush and wide smile were any indication he was on the right track. He raised the hand that contained the tickets between the two of them, plucking one out and offering it to Claire.

Their hands brushed as she reached for the ticket, Carmy’s smile matching hers as they fell into polite small talk about their day and their plans for after graduation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, maybe I want going to prom with you to mean something,” the sound of what they both knew to be Hayden’s voice drew their attention. They watched the fading interaction between you and Hayden, Carmy’s attention zeroing in on a laugh he heard over a hundred times.

The squeeze on his bicep removed his attention from you, eyes falling back to the girl he had just asked to prom, albeit accidentally. “They’re so cute! I can’t believe they’re going to prom together,” Claire’s excitement had somehow increased after Hayden’s obnoxious display. “Hey, maybe we can carpool,” It was wrong but Carmy couldn’t get himself to focus on the words leaving Claire’s mouth, too busy watching you watch Hayden.

“Oh hey, my mom’s here. We’ll figure it out later, see ya Carmy.” He sent a noncommittal nod in Claire’s direction, a slight wave sent to her mom who was patiently waiting in the car. Eyes immediately went back to your figure that had finally begun to make its way in his direction, the smile on your face confusing him. You didn’t like Hayden did you?

Carmy watched as you stopped in front of him before your hand reached out to shove his shoulder, “Why didn’t you tell me you were asking Claire to prom?” Carmy wasn’t sure why but your question irked him, the excitement in your voice crawling under his skin. It’s not like he had to run his whole life by you, you obviously didn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were asking Hayden to prom?” The hostility in Carmy’s tone and the frown on his face confused you, “You just asked him to prom so he’ll sleep with you.” Your eyes widened at Carmy’s insinuation that the only reason anyone would go to prom with you was to fulfill their carnal desires.

You scoffed rolling your eyes at his immaturity, “You have an ugly fucking attitude, Carmen.” The shove of your shoulder into his as you stormed off to the car cooled his anger down.

Carmy had no clue what the fuck had been going on with him, with the two of you recently. But he knew he needed to cool it with these mood swings before you decided to leave him behind for good. He only had you for the rest of the summer before your constant presence in his life would disappear. He didn’t want to give you a reason to cease all contact after your move. Carmy followed after you knowing it would be a silent car ride home.

Prom Night | Saturday

The week leading up to prom had been the most awkward week between you and Carmy since the dawn of your friendship. It's not like you were giving him the cold shoulder, but you sure weren’t as nice and friendly as you usually were with him. You only spoke to him out of necessity that week, your friendship with him on rocky ground after the accusation he threw your way.

It had gotten so bad that you had even begun inviting Claire and Hayden to your’s and Carmy’s self-proclaimed lunch table. You had told Carmy it was under the guise of figuring out the plans for prom night, but you just didn’t want to sit alone with Carmy as he acted like everything was fine between the two of you. And Carmy knew two, and if he was brave enough he would’ve admitted that it hurt to see you so upset with him to the point that you were no longer comfortable in just his presence.

He had even broached the topic to Sugar, hoping she would be able to give him advice since she was a teenage girl at one point, and probably understood your thought process better than he did. He regretted the decision immediately when she explained to him that because of the situation, he should be more worried about the way his words hurt you, rather than his feelings of you distancing yourself from him. She had gone on a long tangent about how you had every right to want space from him, the two of you were longtime best friends, and having someone you trust with your whole life deduce you to just your body would make anyone question the friendship. Carmy learned the hard way that Sugar wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted to hear just to make him feel better.

It was a tough week for Carmen Berzatto and it was nobody's fault but his own. Sitting on his bed he stared at the suit he would be donning tonight, the excitement he once held for prom, slowly dwindling with every smile you saved for Hayden that week. Every time you asked for Hayden’s advice before Carmy’s he felt his resolve cracking, for a constant time in his life your friendship with him was the only thing that truly belonged to him.

He wasn’t used to having to share your attention with anyone outside of his and your family. He wasn’t prepared for the smile he thought was reserved just for him, to so easily graced your lips when speaking with Hayden

You and Claire were getting ready together at your house, you had invited the girl to join you after she explained her mom would be out of town for a business meeting. The friendship between the two of you was still rather new, you wouldn’t go as far as to call her your best friend, but she was your first close girlfriend and you thought that counted for something.

Claire was easy to be friends with. She was a sweet girl with a bright personality and the two of you wondered how you had lived on the same street all this time and never became friends before senior year. Claire was easy to be friends with; that is until Carmy decided he liked her. After that day it was no longer just you and Carmy, it was you, Carmy, and Claire. And Claire was never even actually physically there, she was just a topic of conversation that Carmy couldn’t go a day without somehow bringing up.

You didn’t blame Claire though, how could you? And just as naturally you watched as your new friend fell for your oldest one. It hurt in the beginning to realize Carmy would never speak of you the way he spoke of Claire, but as time went on you got over it, the mantra ‘if Carmy’s happy, I’m happy’ slowly getting you through senior year. But it was agonizing when Claire confessed to you she had fallen for your shy doe-eyed shadow.

Luckily for you though the two of them were too shy to ever do anything about it. And maybe you were a shit friend for not telling Carmy that he did have a chance with his dream girl, but you would’ve been an even worse friend for revealing Claire’s secret behind her back. It was a lose-lose situation. So now you were relegated to being the middleman, lending both of your friends an ear to talk about their infatuations with each other.

And that’s exactly what you were doing right now as you listened to Claire drone on about how sweet Carmy was. And how cute he looked when he asked her to prom, and if you thought he would look good in his suit tonight; which yes, you did but Claire didn’t need to know that. You were almost starting to regret inviting her over, but you had to remind yourself it wasn’t her fault that you were too scared to admit your feelings to Carmy, or that you should’ve just asked Carmy to prom yourself with no hesitation.

“Which color?” Claire’s voice broke you from your pity party, the two of you sitting on the floor in front of your mirror, your respective makeup set out in front of you. You looked at the two eyeshadow palettes Claire was pointing at, quickly pointing at the one color palette that would work best with her blue-green eyes.

“I think these colors will make your eyes pop,” the small smile on your lips encouraging Claire to take your advice. “Can I be honest with you?” You were unsure that you wanted to have this conversation with Claire, but you’d always have Carmy’s best interest at heart.

Claire shifted to face you, your serious tone drawing her undivided attention. “Just be careful with Carmy, okay?” Your eyes flickered between hers to make sure she understood the gravity of what you were saying. “Not in a bad way or anything, it's just…he really likes you. And he’s not that experienced in the romance department, so just don’t expect too much of him,” you paused, eyes going down to watch as your fingers picked at the hem of your robe.

“He’s shy, ya know, and he’s a little self-conscious even though he does not need to be because he’s so cool once you get to know him. But if he seems a little clueless or doesn’t pick up on your queues, just don’t hold it against him okay? I know he’s going to try not to mess things up with you Claire.”

Your eyes found Claire’s face again, a small endearing smile on her lips, “You care about him a lot.” You laughed not meaning for it to sound as sarcastic as it came across, you did a lot more than care about Carmy. “I’m glad Carmy has a friend like you in his life,” Claire’s hand patted your knee, the truth in her words causing your heart to sink a little in your chest.

“Enough about me and Carmy, I didn’t know you were into Hayden!” The two of you giggled about the fact you were talking about boys and getting ready for prom, neither of you thought you’d be in this situation right now.

“I’m not. We’re just going as friends,” you said as the two of you began to paint your faces. “Well make sure he knows that.” You put down the lip liner you were examining, eyes flashing to Claire as she shot you a goofy smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You watched as Claire rolled her eyes at your obliviousness, you threw a makeup brush at her that she easily swatted away. “I’m just saying” the other girl’s hands raised in defense, “Hayden has like the biggest crush on you, he’s just too nonchalant to say anything.”

“Really?” The surprise in your voice stole a laugh from Claire. “Of course! Look, you didn’t hear this from me but he had plans to ask you to prom. You just beat him to the punch.”

You watched Claire for a minute as she resumed doing her makeup. Your own eyes find your figure in the mirror, a shy smile curving your lips. Maybe your head had been so far up Carmy’s ass you were too blind to see that there was another great guy out there ready to make you happy.

You thought of the advice Tina had given you a few weeks back, you would always care for Carmy. But if he was getting his happy ending tonight, it was only fair that you tried as well. As you and Claire sat there chit-chatting and getting ready, you thought about how different your life would be if you set your feelings for Carmy aside, and tonight was the best time to figure it out.

You and Claire made your way across the street to the Berzatto household where everyone was waiting for the two of you. Your mom and aunt left 30 minutes ago, Donna having invited them over for dinner while you all attended prom. You saw Hayden’s car parked in front of their house and couldn’t help but feel excited at the idea of spending such a fun night with him, you had only ever seen him as a friend but maybe tonight could change things.

You were pretty sure Donna was snooping through the windows excitedly waiting for the two of you to arrive because the moment your foot hit the sidewalk Donna threw the door open with a loud voice surprising the two of you.

“Oh my goodness! Look at you girls, you look beautiful!” Donna exclaimed as she made her way towards the two of you pulling Claire into a hug before throwing her arms around you, careful to mind the bulky Polaroid camera in her hand.

Removing yourself from the hug you peered behind her to see everyone else filing out of the house. Your aunt helped your mom as she talked Nat’s ear off about something you couldn’t hear. Mikey and Richie do their best to interrogate a calm Hayden, and Carmy awkwardly follows behind at the back of the pack, his suit hugging him well.

You were quickly pulled away from your assessment of Carmy as Nat made her way to you with a huge grin on her face. “Baby! Oh my goodness!” Her words became muffled as she pulled you into a hug. “You look so gorgeous, Carmy is such a tool. Well, no offense to Claire.” You let out a small laugh as you parted from Natalie, the two of you joining everyone else so the picture-taking could begin.

Before joining Claire and Carmy you stopped by Mikey and Richie to pick up your date, hoping they hadn’t gone overboard with the ‘intimidating older brother’ act. Squeezing in between the two older men you looped your arm around their torso pulling them into a double-side hug.

“Are tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb giving you a hard time Hayden?” The words leave behind a mock pout on your lips. You gave Hayden a bright smile, easily taking his suited figure in, he had forgone his round dorky glasses. But his signature unruly dark curls were in their usual mess atop of his head, and you would admit you appreciated it.

You watched as the once apprehensive look on his face turned into a bright grin at your words, a pretty blush painting his angular cheeks. “Wow, you look uh-”

“She looks what buddy?” Mikey’s tone left no room for questions, his arms moving to cross against his chest widening his stance to appear more intimidating.

“You look pretty.” You weren’t even given a second to respond as Mikey started in again.

“I look fucking pretty to you? Richie, this boy just call me pretty?” Mikey’s eyes never left Hayden’s even as his question was directed at Richie.

You watched as Richie copied Mikey’s stance, your arms falling from their movements. “Yeah Mikey, I think he fucking did.”

“Richie’s a looker too, you gonna call him pretty?” You watched as Hayden fumbled with his words, eyes searching yours for any help.

“Yeah Curly Sue, I wanna be fucking pretty too.” You weren’t sure how the conversation had gotten so out of control but luckily for you, your mom was there to save the day. Pulling Hayden’s attention to a conversation so he could escape your two personal bodyguards.

“You two stop giving that poor boy a hard time.” Mikey and Richie having no defense against your mom, let him join her as Donna came up to the three of you for a picture.

You resumed your initial position with them, arms finding their way back around their torsos. The two of them leaned down to press a kiss against both of your cheeks, a cheesy smile taking over your features as the three of you posed for Donna’s camera.

“Okay Baby, grab your cute little date and take some photos,” Donna motioned you over to where Nat was finishing up the couple photos of Carmy and Claire, now waiting for you and Hayden.

You maneuvered yourself from Mikey and Richie’s grip standing in front of them, the two of them looking at you with smirks decorating their faces. Although you found their antics to be stupid, you were glad to have people in your life who cared enough about you to try and scare your dates away.

“This kid not weird or some shit is he Baby?” Mikey scowled at you, arms finding their way across his chest. You shook your head, you thought you knew enough about Hayden to vouch for him. “No, he’s just a friend. It was a last-minute decision.” The two men stared at the boy who was waiting for you to take pictures with him, the pretty flower corsage in a box in his hands.

Mikey nodded in his direction signaling for you to go and join him, “You guys stop by The Beef after. Don’t want you and Carmy getting into any stupid shit.” You nodded before making your way to Hayden’s side. His smile caused one to grace your lips as well.

“Everybody wants pictures of us but uh, I need to give you this first.” You smiled as he shyly showed you the corsage, you watched as he removed it from its box. You held out your hand as he carefully slipped it on your wrist, surprised to see how perfectly the colors chosen complimented your skin tone.

You couldn’t help but share a small smile with him when the two of you caught each other’s eyes again. “Thank you, Hayden, it's beautiful.” The click of a camera drew your attention, eyes finding Nat’s as she looked at the image on her digital camera.

“Awe Baby! The two of you are so cute, okay give me a few poses.” Carmy couldn’t help but watch as Sugar gushed over you and Hayden, his mom keeping Claire’s attention as they discussed whatever it was they were so enraptured in.

He watched as the two of you took photos as if you were a couple and not just two friends going to prom. The two of you stood in the standard prom pose looking like the perfect match, Hayden standing behind you with his hands wrapped around your waist, the two of you smiling happily at the camera. The position changed slightly as Hayden rested his chin on your shoulder for one shot, slightly turning his head for the next shot so his lips caressed your cheek. From Carmy’s vantage point, you didn’t seem to mind.

Carmy was pulled into Mikey’s side as his older brother wrapped his arm around his shoulder. The two of them watch you and your date in silence for a moment. “Baby’s growing up isn’t she?” The question was not something Carmy was expecting from Mikey.

“Do me a favor and look out for her Carmy alright?” Carmy nodded, no one ever needed to ask that of him. “Better start treating her right before this becomes your feature.” Mikey looked down at Carmy hoping to drill the words into his younger brother, sending one more squeeze to his shoulder and an encouraging smile his way before leaving to join Richie in conversation with your mom and aunt.

Sugar caught Carmy’s eye, a melancholy smile on her lips, “Carmy come, let me get a picture of you and Baby together!” He looked to his mom and Claire, the two of them giving him nods of encouragement. He gently took the Polaroid camera from his mom's hand knowing you’d like at least one Polaroid of the two of you before heading in your direction.

He approached you and Hayden as the two of you were having a quiet conversation, “So if I potentially called you baby non platonically how would you feel about that?” Carmy wanted to gag and was relieved as he watched you roll your eyes at the cheesy pickup line.

“Eww, actually please don’t,” Carmy stood there in silence watching how chummy the two of you were and feeling awkward for just listening.

“You’re right, my girl has a better ring to it.” Carmy’s eyes widened he had no idea where the fuck this kid's confidence was coming from but it sure was starting to piss him off. He watched your mouth hang open partially at a loss for words apparently just as appalled as Carmy.

The hand reaching up to cup your chin almost sent Carmy into a full spiral, “Close your mouth, can’t have my girl swallowing flies.” Camry was about to blow his shit! Who the fuck did this model-looking motherfucker think he was?

“Hey, pretty boy! None of that slick shit in my yard!” Carmy had never been more thankful for Mikey’s obnoxious personality, watching as you and Hayden laughed together looking thick as thieves.

He quickly took his opportunity to squeeze his way into the space Hayden had once taken up. Carmy could feel the tension as he stood next to you, he quickly handed the Polaroid off to Sugar so she could take the picture before making his way back to your side.

Neither of you spoke a word as you got into position standing in a side hug so the awkward tension between the two of you wouldn’t be as noticeable in the final photo. As you fixed yourself to make sure you were presentable, Carmy found himself enraptured with you carefully sliding his arm around your waist.

The way you had chosen to style your hair was something he wasn’t accustomed to. The new style allows the angelic planes of your face to be showcased, the apples of your cheeks and your cheekbones catching his eye. The pretty sparkly stuff on your eyelids catching the dimming sunlight he was almost tempted to touch it. He liked the earrings you had chosen and the way the pearls sat so prettily around your neck he wanted to trace each one.

The square neckline of your dress showcased your perfectly sculpted collarbones. Carmy was so lost in his study of you he hadn’t thought twice about running his thumb across the one closest to him. The touch tickled you enough that your body was now slightly turned into his. Carmy cleared his throat, “Uh…um there was a bug.” He watched as you nodded along with his lame excuse.

Your hand came up to smooth out his pocket square that sat atop his heart. Carmy caught your eye before you could face the camera head-on, he gave your waist a slight squeeze to give himself a boost of confidence. Carmy watched as you stared up at him questionably the two of you just staring at each other for a moment.

Carmy’s eyes darted over your face, taking in your features before losing himself to the shape of your lips for a moment. “I think you look beautiful tonight Baby.” The words left Carmy’s lips with no sense of apprehension, no shyness. He was sure of himself; sure of his statement.

You had leaned into him a little bit more, your eyes rapidly blinking as your brain realized what he said. Carmy watched as a small shy smile graced your lips, his own soon following as he realized just how important it was to keep that pretty smile in his life.

Unbeknownst to the two of you Sugar had watched the whole moment play out, quickly raising the Polaroid to capture the intimate moment between the two of you. A moment she was hoping would finally lead to more between the two of you.

“Thank you Carmy,” Carmy watched as you leaned in slightly before stopping yourself and quickly readjusting so you were facing Sugar head-on. Carmy wasn’t sure what had changed between the two of you in these last couple of weeks but as Carmy forced himself to look away from you, he found himself thankful for whatever ushered in that change.

Carmen Berzatto knew at that moment, he would want for no one else the way he did you. And he would spend every day for the rest of his life proving that he was enough for you.

You and Hayden were leaning against his car as the two of you watched Carmy walk Claire down the street to her own house. Hayden had volunteered to drive you all to prom, and when your fun was done there happily drove you all to The Beef, excited to try the sandwiches you couldn’t stop raving about.

And now the night had come to an end, the four of you all ending back up at your starting destination. You thought the media embellished high school prom a bit, but you hadn’t regretted your decision to go and were happy to have spent such a memorable night with people whose company you enjoyed.

Hayden’s arm was brushing against yours, his suit jacket almost swallowing you up. You were grateful for the jacket, the night growing colder as time went on. The two of you were calmly standing in each other’s presence, the silence not bothering either of you. Tonight with Hayden was fun, you enjoyed how goofy he was. Always doing what he could to make you smile and laugh, you were scared things might have been awkward due to the romantic undertone of the event.

“I had a really good time tonight Hayden, thank you for being my date.” You couldn’t help the shy smile on your lips, you were sure your cheeks would be sore from smiling the whole night away.

Hayden sent you a bright smile of his own head nodding along, “Me too, I’m glad you decided to ask me.” The two of you stood there for a moment just smiling at each other.

In the movies, this was usually the moment a kiss would happen. But you weren’t sure if you wanted Hayden to kiss you, you enjoyed his company and you thought he was a great guy but you didn’t feel anything romantic for him yet and didn’t want a single kiss to lead him on.

You leaned up slightly, your lips caressing his cheek as a form of thanks. “Maybe…we could hang out some other time?” If you were really going to put your happiness first it would be necessary to put yourself out there.

“I’ve got you till the end of July don’t I?” Your eyes find Hayden’s cheeky smile as his hand raised your chin. You nodded eyes searching his face, wondering what these next two months might hold for the two of you.

His thumb began to rub back and forth on your chin, your breath hitching as you watched him lean down. Mind going blank, panic filling you as you tried to figure out if this was something you wanted. You stood still, nerves racing through your body as you were about to have your first kiss.

You watched as Hayden’s eyes flicked to the side before he reluctantly stepped back, thumb brushing your chin one final time before his hand returned to its side. You followed his line of sight to see Carmy approaching, standing a little distance away to wait for you.

Turning back to Hayden you sent him one last smile, the boy pulled you into a hug engulfing you with a slight kiss pressed to the top of your head before the two of you moved apart. You quickly slipped off his jacket before handing it to him, moving back so he could get in his car. You watched as he sent Carmy a small nod in goodbye before his car disappeared down your street.

Letting out a small sigh you turned to where Carmy was waiting for you a shy smile on his face. You smiled back as you approached him the two of you walking up the sidewalk to his front door, you knew your mom and aunt would still be here at this time.

The two of you entered the house greeting the four women that were sitting in the living room having their small party. Questions were thrown at both of you about your time and making sure your dates made it home safe all the usual questions to be expected after prom. You listened as your mom told you that you would be leaving soon. Knowing that when it came to your mom soon could mean in the next five minutes or the next two hours.

Your eyes found Carmy’s as you let out a small yawn, his eyebrows raising in question before nodding towards his room. You made your way to follow him up the stairs too tired to contribute to the conversation happening in the living room.

Entering Carmy’s room you made your way to the foot of his bed to sit down, quickly removing your heels a sense of relief filling you. Dropping your heels you watched as Carmy stood by his door looking as though his mind was racing. You smiled at him patting the spot next to you, a sort of peace offering.

“How was your night, Carmy?” You watched as he made his way to sit next to you, head falling to rest on his shoulder as you awaited his response.

“It was fun, yeah, Claire was really nice.” You watched as he blushed, you might have felt a little sad any other night but right now you were too exhausted to care.

“Why didn’t you kiss Hayden?” The question hit you like a shot of espresso. You raised your head from Carmy’s shoulder trying to find his eyes as he kept his head focused on his clasped hands. “I don’t know, I don’t think it felt right.” You genuinely had no good explanation for Carmy, you didn’t even have one for yourself.

“Did you kiss Claire?” Your question came off a little more hostile than you had intended. Carmy sat up, eyes finally meeting yours as he shook his head. You felt guilty at the relief that flooded through you.

“No, it didn't feel right.” You let out a small laugh at the recycled explanation, a similar one leaving Carmy’s lips as he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Gosh we’re such losers,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder with Carmy’s. “I thought for sure you would’ve taken your chance to kiss Claire tonight.” You wiggled your eyebrows in a teasing manner, the ice that had been ruining your friendship this past week seemingly forgotten.

Carmy gulped as he continued to study you. “Maybe she wasn’t the girl I wanted to kiss tonight,” Carmy’s words caused your joking mood to quickly sober up, the smile disappearing from your face completely as you realized just how intently he was staring at you.

“Carmy,” your voice trailed off, not sure what the boy in front of you was getting at. You stood up needing a bit of space to understand the underlying message in Carmy’s words. “Carmy, what are you talking about?”

He followed your movements, the two of you both standing up now, faces inches apart. You couldn’t help but follow Carmy’s tongue as it quickly traced his lips, your own coming out to wet yours. The room was silent as you waited for Carmy to say something, anything. Your heart began to beat faster as the 10 words Carmy spouted in your direction gave you a sense of hope.

Your breath hitched as you watched Carmy’s hand raise, his eyes falling to your neck. You felt his fingers delicately trace the path of borrowed pearls, each touch leaving behind a whisper of something you couldn’t place. You allowed him to continue, too nervous to say anything at that moment.

His hand began to trace its way up the side of your neck, soft touch making your knees weak. He looked to be in a trance lost in the idea of you. A gasp escaped your lips as his hand gripped the side of your neck, fingers gently tugging the hair at the nape of your neck.

Carmy couldn’t explain it, but this, you standing so beautifully in his room right now, lips parted slightly as you waited for him to make the final move felt right. It felt so right it didn’t matter who either of you went to prom with, it didn’t matter that this would be the first kiss for both of you. What mattered was that it was you here with him; you who had always been with him, he would’ve given everything to be deserving of you.

The small nod of your head was the last sign Carmy needed before he surged forward capturing your lips in a harsh kiss. The two of you were so inexperienced your teeth clashed together. The roughness brought the both of you back down to earth, you couldn’t help but laugh at how awkward that first kiss was. You didn’t even think it could even be considered a kiss, more so a smack of lips against each other.

You watched the shy blush rise on Carmy’s cheeks, you could tell he was feeling self-conscious about the whole situation. Your hand raised to gently caress the hand that was still placed on the side of your neck.

Eyes locked you sent him a warm smile leaning in slightly a small whispered “c’mere” breathed between the two of you as you gently pressed your lips into his. Your eyes closed as you felt Carmy relax into the embrace, a sigh leaving his lips as he tugged you closer by the hand wrapped around your neck.

The two of you pulled apart eyes fluttering open as you drank in each other. Neither of you say anything for a moment, the room is filled with the sounds of your soft breathing. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening, all these months of unrequited feelings and secret pining, and here you were kissing Carmen Berzatto in his bedroom.

You watched as Carmy let out a shy laugh, thumb caressing the space behind your ear. Your smile matched his, the two of you watching the other with goofy smiles playing on your lips.

“Can I-,”

“Yes.”

Carmy gave you no chance to finish your sentence before he eagerly agreed and surged back in to kiss you. His lips felt like heaven against your own, you had wondered what this moment would feel like if it ever happened. If Carmy’s lips felt as soft as they looked, what would their natural taste be like?

The kiss continued as Carmy’s tongue poked out to shyly glide across your lips, you smiled into the kiss before parting your own. Easily inviting him in, the two of you languidly moved in sync, no battle to be fought as the two of you enjoyed the caress of each other’s mouths.

You couldn’t help but moan into Carmen’s mouth a hunger you didn’t know you had finally being satisfied. The small tug on your hair caused your mouth to open wider, the kiss becoming sloppy as the two of you gave in to your desires. You felt Carmy’s hand delicately trace your neck, his infatuation constantly leading him back to it.

The bite on your lip caused a harsh gasp to leave your lips, Carmy quickly pulling away at the noise. He looked at you with wide fearful eyes scared that he hurt you, ruining a good moment too soon.

“I - I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to.” Seeing Carmy so worried and vulnerable at the moment sent a thrill of warmth through your body. Your confidence grew as his faded, you took a small step into his space backing him up into the foot of the bed which caused him to resume his sitting position.

You could get used to looking down at Carmy.

You raised the hem of your dress so you could maneuver yourself into his lap, arms going to wrap around his neck. Carmy watched you like a deer in headlights, this new sense of confidence making you feel brave. As Carmy sat there like a statue you gently removed your hands from around his neck to guide his to your waist.

His hands squeezed your hips as you quickly adjusted yourself in his lap, Carmy’s eyes following the hem of your dress as it moved up more exposing your thighs. “Won’t you kiss me again Carmy?” The small whisper bounced off of Carmy’s lips due to your proximity, you watched as he rapidly nodded his head, hands squeezing your hips for dear life. You gave him a small smile before the both of you surged forward eager to be connected again.

As the kiss between you deepened you began unconsciously rolling your hips into Carmy’s the feel of his lips searing into yours making you want more. You listened as a strangled noise left Carmy’s lips before he pulled away again, you quickly stopped your ministrations.

“Is this okay, do you want me to stop?” The question caused Carmy’s head to rest against your rapidly rising and falling chest.

“No-no I-I just need a minute.” You were beginning to feel guilty, maybe you had come on too strong and Carmy was just confused about his feelings. You began moving to get off of his lap not wanting him to be any more uncomfortable than he probably was.

You stopped as a blissful sigh escaped Carmy’s lips, his eyes finally moving to meet yours. You sat there silently as the grip on your hips tightened a sigh parting your lips as Carmy bucked up into you while he guided you back and forth. The direct eye contact somehow increased the sensation between the two of you.

“I-I like it when you move like that.” You nodded along to Carmy’s words, continuing the movements yourself as Carmy’s lips found your neck trailing open-mouth kisses on any bare piece of skin he could. One hand quickly reached up, sliding the thin strap of your dress down, so he could finally appreciate your collarbones in the way they deserved.

In all honesty, neither of you had any clue what the hell you were doing, but whatever it was, it was working. No matter how messy the touches were, or how sloppily you were kissing each other every movement felt right.

Carmy was lavishing your chest and neck in any way that he could, kisses trailing over each collarbone. An impromptu bite in the space where your neck and shoulder met caused your breath to hitch. Your hips created a rhythm against his as the two of you lost yourself to the bliss.

A loud knock at the door interrupted the two of you. Carmy quickly removed his lips from your neck, doing his best to shield your body in case someone walked in. Neither of you knew how long it had been, too caught up in losing yourself to each other, too caught up to realize how far things had almost gone.

The knock sounded again as your aunt said your name, “We’re heading out, meet us downstairs.” Footsteps leading away from the door calmed the nerves both you and Carmy had been feeling, eyes peeling away from the door to match with each other.

No one said a word as the two of you stared at each other, you taking in Carmy’s flushed appearance. As he admired your disheveled figure above him, the confidence quickly left your body as you shuffled to get off of his lap.

The hand on your hip stopped you as you eyed him curiously, he slowly reached up to fix the straps that he had slid off of your shoulders, the slow shy touches caused your head to spin. He helped you stand up before adjusting the hem of your dress. You quickly glanced away as he tried to subtly adjust himself.

The shout of your name from downstairs forced you to rush to his bathroom mirror to fix any obvious differences in your appearance. By the time you came back, Carmy was holding one of his knit crew necks out for you to slip on.

His hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck, “Uhh, it's cold outside.” You smiled gratefully before slipping the crew neck on, quickly scooping up your heels as you made your way to the door. You turned around facing Carmy one last time with a wide smile on your face, you leaned in prepared to end the night with a sweet kiss.

Carmy leaned in pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, the two of you scoring the intimate moment. Carmy couldn’t help but smile as he watched you leave wearing his knit crew neck, part of him hoping it smelled of your scent upon its return.

Carmy hadn’t expected the night to take the turn it did, but he was thanking his lucky stars that you went along, no questions asked. Neither of you knew what this meant for the future of your friendship, or if this would blossom into something more. But the two of you were both lost in the bliss of your actions to think too long on it for the rest of the night.

Sunday Evening

You hadn’t seen much of Carmy over the rest of the weekend, instead spending the free time with your mom and aunt. You also weren’t quite sure how to approach him, and the fact that he hadn’t approached you either signified you were both at a standstill, neither of you sure how to broach the topic.

It was Sunday evening and you were on your way to The Beef picking up an extra shift after Mikey called to ask if you could come in. Richie had to leave early for whatever the hell he did in his spare time.

As you parked in the back lot, you were surprised to see Carmy sneaking through the back door. Your heart began to thud a little faster, it was stupid, but you hadn’t thought you’d be seeing him so soon. You sat there for a moment calming your nerves, you were sure the conversation wouldn’t be brought up while you were working, but maybe Carmy came here looking for you specifically.

You got out of your car, locking it behind you before entering the establishment. Quickly punching your time card before grabbing one of the spare aprons and heading to check in with Mikey.

The dinner rush would be starting soon and since Richie was gone you’d have to balance working the cashier and running food to the diners. You walked around, head popping into the office to let Mikey know you were there.

The two of you crashed into each other as he was making his way to the kitchen, arms shooting out to steady you so you didn’t fall.

“Thanks for coming Baby, but uh if you wanna go home I won’t stop you.” You watched Mikey awkwardly scratch the back of his head, eyes darting around the kitchen as he watched the controlled chaos ensue. Surprise etching your features, not used to Mikey being the awkward Berzatto in your life.

“No, I don’t mind kind of needed to get out of the house anyways,” you smiled at home before heading to the front to take care of the line that was beginning to form.

Most of the orders were for takeout so you hadn’t been rushing back and forth too much. But the Johnsons, an old couple who ate dinner here every Sunday, was your first dine-in order, the two greeting you before heading back to their favorite table.

You turned to the window waiting for the order you had already given, watching as Tina made her way to you apprehensively.

“I can run this for you Mama if you want me to.” You shook your head sending her a smile before taking the two red baskets from her hand and making your way to the dining area, eyes instantly spotting the older couple.

“Two famous Italian beef sandwiches for my favorite regulars,” you smiled down at the couple setting a tray in front of each one respectively.

“Say, honey, isn’t that your little friend over there?” You watched as the woman subtly pointed at another table, you and her partner both taking in the scene in front of you.

You felt a wide smile spreading over your face as you took in Carmy’s figure, the shyness exuding off of him. His lips brandishing a small smile, it took the laughter of his table mate to slap the rose-colored glasses off your face.

So caught up in your infatuation with the boy you’d been crushing on and finally got to kiss the other night, you hardly noticed Claire.

The two women sitting at the table in front of you sharing a knowing look, guilt seeping through as they alerted you to something you’d rather be ignorant to.

“I’m so sorry honey, I didn’t mean to upset you. Mabel been telling me I oughta learn when to shut my big mouth. If I ain’t listen 20 years ago I sure wasn’t gone figure it out by now.” You let out a sad pathetic laugh at Ms. Sadie’s explanation doing your best to compartmentalize your feelings.

“Shame though Baby, that boys missing out on something good. You looked at that boy like he parted the heavens and earth. My Mabel used to look at me like that, you know, the only thing she looks at like that now is cake and these damn beef sandwiches.” Ms. Sadie’s laugh unconsciously draws one of your own, finally taking your attention from Carmy and Claire.

“Oh hush up now Sadie and let the girl get back to work,” another watery laugh escaped your lips. “Talking this sweet girl's ear off like she wants to listen to you on top of watching the boy she loves on a date.”

Your head shot to Ms. Mabel’s slightly taken aback by her word choice, she settled you with a look. “Don’t go giving me that look now. You may be foolin' that boy and yourself but you ain’t foolin' anyone with eyes baby.” You let her reach out to gently pat your hand, the two women in front of you made it hard to keep your calm facade up.

“You gone on and head home Baby, and if Michael has a problem with it you let him know Ms. Mabel and Ms. Sadie said it was okay.” You let out a real laugh, the sound caught the one boy’s attention you didn’t care for right now.

“And tell your momma to stop by if she’s ever feeling up for it,” you sent the couple a small smile nodding your head. “Yes ma’am, you two enjoy the rest of your night.” With that, you began your journey out of the dining room.

You stopped as you heard Claire call out your name, turning inside the doorway as she sent you a wave, returning a small one as you purposefully avoided giving Carmy any attention.

You made your way into the kitchen no one needed to ask what was wrong as they took in your somber mood. You silently slid into the walk-in, maybe it was unsanitary but you didn’t think you could face anyone as you finally let the first sob wrack your body.

The fact that you knew this incident wouldn’t change your friendship with him irritated you to no end. But you cared for him so much that you just couldn’t force yourself to quit him. Maybe this move was what you needed, the time spent apart would allow you to discover who you were outside of Carmen Berzatto. You would do your best to allow the friendship between the two of you to keep flourishing, but whatever Carmy decided was best for him, you’d just have to live with it.

You hadn’t realized how long you were standing in the walk-in until Mikey entered. Body engulfing yours in a hug as his warmth radiated through you. The older Berzatto allowed you to stain his shirt in tears, neither of you saying a word as the sound of your sorrow painted the walk-in.

The youngest Berzatto’s hand stilled on the door handle as he listened to your faint cries. His own heart broke as he realized that he hurt you again. Head hitting against the exterior of the door, he didn’t deserve you, didn’t know if he ever would. Carmy forced himself to listen to your faint sobs wanting to console you at this moment but not knowing where the two of you stood.

Two friends stood on opposite sides of a steel door, hearts breaking in unison as it felt like everything was fighting against what they both wanted. July would come and they would part ways, promises whispered to stay in contact and remain friends, neither soul knowing what the years apart would have in store for them.

a/n: i apologize if anything in this chapter doesn't make sense or is wonky, i've been editing for 3 days straight and i feel like i can't read english anymore. hope you enjoyed! i also have a whole playlist if anyone is interested!

taglist: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn

unable to tag: @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder @gcidrvsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] interlude one #the bear fic #carmen berzatto

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anisespice · 11 months

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“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 2

one

synopsis: " you can pick me or your little boy. "

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!), enabling behavior, mild violence, vague descriptions of sex (cause i’m lazy), vulgar language, corny marvel joke, dirty-talk, moral compass is a roulette wheel in this one lol and i think that’s it :P

notes: did a little continuation of the first one before doing more characters lol i’m happy you guys liked the concept, lemme know who you’d like to see next :))) i don’t hate this one, but i don’t love it either (except maybe mikey’s) buuuut hope yall enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05

A week had passed since the whole kick-back fiasco, and MIKEY had gone awol. Aki was over the moon about it, for obvious reasons; as far as he was concerned, he scared him off. Besides, the less you hung around the delinquent, the better for both of you.

“That guy’s just a nuisance, babe. Good riddance.”

Little did he know, this was a regular occurrence. Mikey always did this—Disappeared for days on end, only to pop right back up like he never left. Whether it be due to gang related issues, or because he felt like it, this frustrating habit was one of the reasons you invited him that night, despite knowing he’d pick a fight with Aki. You had missed him…in more ways than one. You knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to you.

And in the wee hours of the night, not far after said boyfriend left your place, you received a lone message from the former blonde himself.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:03pm “ omw. ”

Short, but effective. His timing was impeccable, how he always managed to text the second you were alone was beyond you, but it made your heart race all the same. It was wrong, you knew that, Aki deserved better than someone who snuck around. You didn’t mean for it to get this far, but that was a guilt you’d deal with later. Mikey was your drug of choice, and tonight you craved another fix.

to : bad influence ♡ 11:07pm “ okay. but just for a little while. ”

Even if you tried to play coy, to salvage whatever weak moral you had left, it didn’t matter—The only one you were fooling tonight was Aki.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:08pm “ mhm. sure, angel. ”

It was a wonder how you didn’t draw blood with how harshly you clawed at his shoulders, fighting between wanting him closer or wanting to push him away. Mikey didn’t mind, though. On the contrary, he encouraged you to leave marks. As tempted as he was to leave his own, he figured beating up your insides would suffice.

Knowing you’ll struggle to walk tomorrow was all the reward he needed.

“God—fuuck,” he slurred, after a particularly hard thrust made you arch off the bed, forcing him to sink deeper. He gazed down at you with an all too pleased grin as you begged him for more. How could he deny you when you sounded so desperate? “Taking me so well, angel…always so good f’me…”

“J-Jiro..! Ahplease!” You sobbed, your knees practically knocking upside your temples as he increased momentum. Mikey snickered, angling his hips to continue ramming the spot that made your eyes cross, moans reaching octaves you didn’t even know you could hit.

“Mm, been feening for this dick, huh? Yeah? Maybe we should call up that smug bastard, let ‘em see how such good friends we are, right [______]? Bet he was real proud thinkin’ he got me to fuck off…but we both know who you really belong to. Don’t we?”

He wasn’t sorry. That’s the short end of it.

The moment Takeru decided to act all big and bad, breaking stuff in a place where he paid no bills, it was in DRAKEN’s right to set him straight; mama may not have raised him, but he still ain’t no bitch.

It took some coaxing on your end, but you were able to reel Draken back from turning your boyfriend inside out. But, after he forced him to pick up every broken piece of the lamp, he told Takeru to choose a number between one and ten.

“…Why?” Was his response. Draken raised a brow.

“That’s how many shards I’m gonna shove up your nose.”

“Ken!”

The look on the shorter male’s face was worth it, earning a threatening smirk from the mechanic as he slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Ahh, y’look like you were about to shit yourself, man! Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

For a moment, there’s relief in your boyfriend’s eyes. It was short-lived, of course. Especially once Draken’s grip tightened around his shoulder. “But I will. Don’t ever let me catch you pop off on [_____] like that again. Would hate for you to have to pick yourself up off the floor next time. You feel me?”

With a gulp, he gave a shaky nod; now he really looked like he shat himself. “Y-Yes…”

“Hah? Yes, what?”

“Y-Yes, Draken, sir?”

He rewarded the poor sucker’s obedience with a couple taps to the cheek just to spite him before sending him on his way. It was met with little protest, Takeru scurrying out of the room with lamp pieces still in his palms, not even sparing you a passing glance.

“Text you later?” You called at his retreating form. When all you got was the sound of your front door slamming shut in response, you swiftly turned on your heel to aim a dejected frown at your other houseguest. Draken sardonically pouted back at you, reaching over to pinch your cheek until you swatted his hand away. “Why’d you do that, you totally freaked him out!”

He wasn’t sorry. Draken shrugged. “Good.”

Merely rolling your eyes, you headed for the small broom and dustpan in your closet to gather what little pieces Takeru left behind–Might as well busy yourself to delay addressing the elephant still in the room. Unfortunately, said elephant wasn’t about to let that happen. Before you could even think of sweeping anything, Draken gently grabbed your elbow, those same eyes that stared death into your boyfriend’s soul now filled with something else as they appraised you, melting through whatever cold exterior you tried to aim at him.

He leaned down closer, sporting a slanted grin that sent signals straight down to your core. Sometimes, you despised how easily he made your insides flutter by just existing.

“How much longer y’gonna entertain that fucking loser, huh? He wouldn’t know the first thing about handling someone like you.”

You hummed, fighting the giddy tremble in your body at the challenging air that surrounded you both. With the inkling of boldness you had, you took the bait. “What, like you would?”

He wasn’t sorry; you’d be though.

The way Draken split you in half would make Lucifer himself bite the pillow. Hovering over his gigantic frame, chest bare with your hands perched on each pec, he manhandled you to take every unforgiving inch of his dick, having you feeling downright discombobulated as your hips struggled to keep momentum.

Forget about seeing stars, at some point, you were certain you saw into the quantum realm; say hi to Ant-Man for me.

“K-Kenny...I can’t...t’s too much!”

He cooed up at you, though there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his tone. If anything, Draken enjoyed himself thoroughly, tongue-in-cheek as he watched you fall apart in his lap, just like he knew you would. With the way you tightened up around him like a vice, as if your own body was against the thought of him stopping, the former blonde chuckled breathlessly.

“Use the safe word then, doll.”

You glared down at him, to the best of your ability. With him practically jabbing you in the lung, it was more than difficult to say the rebuttal as smartly as you wanted to. “Y-you think…you’re so-oh! So f-funny…”

He did. Absolutely he did. By making your boyfriend’s name the safe word, nothing would soften his dick quicker. Plus, he knew you didn’t need it; just like you didn’t need Takeru.

“What? It’d be the only way you’d ever scream it anyways.”

“Welcome back.”

You paused mid-step upon entering your apartment, not expecting the ravenette to still be there. With a deep exhale, you paid him no mind as you kicked off your shoes, irritated after a tiresome process of checking your boyfriend into the hospital.

To say BAJI did a number on him would be an understatement…Man’s fucked him up. Sure, maybe Makoto could’ve watched his tone when talking to someone with such a short fuse, but Baji could’ve at least exercised a little restraint.

…Oh, who were you kidding? It’s Baji.

“What, ya not talkin’ to me?” Barely sparing him a glance, you set your bag on the coffee table before heading for the bedroom for a much-needed shower. Baji didn’t take kindly to being ignored. He huffed, standing to meet you halfway as he trailed behind you. Even when you attempted to close the door in his face, he shouldered his way in anyway; it was gonna take more than that to deter him.

“Quit being mad…said I was sorry, damn.”

“No you didn’t,” you replied, incredulously. You really tried it with the silent treatment, but knowing him, it was only a matter of seconds before he'd get you talking again. Taking off the sweats you threw on in haste earlier, you continued. “You said, and I quote, ‘Talk shit, get hit,’ then fell asleep on the couch while I had to haul Makoto to the emergency room!”

Baji shuffled his feet, “…Well, I meant to say it. Jus' forgot.”

You scoffed, walking into your bathroom. "What are you even still doing here? Don't you have someone else's day to shit on?”

“Y’kicking me out now?” He teased, raising a brow. What he didn't expect was for you to start throwing your toiletries at him. Although his reflexes saved him for the most part, Baji still got hit a few times as he attempted to dodge between a shampoo bottle and mouthwash. "Whoa! Hey-!"

“Maybe I should! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get him in and out of my car with all that dead weight, let alone into the building? Not to mention, his emergency contacts were his uppity-ass parents, so after they chewed me out, I had to lie and say he saved me from getting mugged.”

“...They buy it?”

You tilted your head, exasperated. "Wow. And here I thought the next thing out of your mouth would be that apology you 'forgot' to say earlier…[Sigh] Whatever. You just better hope when Makoto wakes up he doesn't remember anything, or else we're both in deep shit."

“Tsk. The fuck’s he gonna do?”

“He could literally sue us.” You deadpanned.

“He’s a pussy, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try me again. And if he gives you any shit for it, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, you mean like how you did today? Pass.”

He groaned, “I said sorry!”

“No you didn’t! And still haven’t!”

At the moment, it felt like the conversation would just continue in circles. With Baji stubbornly claiming he was in the right, and you combating his warped logic with colorful language and more stuff thrown at him, it's a wonder how things ended up here–With your face pressed against the cold shower wall as he gave you his fucking apology.

Over, and over, and over again.

While one hand wrapped around the column of your throat, fingers shoved knuckle-deep into your mouth to pacify the excessive whines tumbling out, the other made use of gripping the meat of your thigh, giving you no chance of running from the punishing thwap of his hips ramming against your wet ass-cheeks. The water cascading over your bodies had long turned cold as Baji chased after orgasm number five, his muscles ached from the strain, but he'd be damned to stop until he was certain all was forgiven.

Even if it meant missing every single one of Makoto's phone calls.

“God, I am so, so sorry, Takashi. Can’t believe he just…I-I’ve never seen him act like that before. Does it hurt?”

MITSUYA, despite the sting in his split lip, gave you an easy grin. “Nah, y’know I’ve been through worse. Fucker hits like one of my younger sisters.”

You had brought him back to your place to ice the bruise forming on his jaw, still frazzled over what occurred in the last half hour. Back at the restaurant, everything seemed fine when you excused yourself to the bathroom, having a blast knowing that your two favorite people were actually getting along. Unbeknownst to you, there was a storm brewing in Hajime. And the second you were out of sight, he used this opportunity to set a record straight with Mitsuya.

Evidently, he allowed his fists to do the talking.

You groaned, rubbing down your face in distress. “We’ll probably never get to set foot in that restaurant again...’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey,” he softly reprimanded, “Don’t sweat it, t’s not your fault-”

“I’m the one who begged you to let him come with us in the first place. I mean, I know you two butt heads from time to time, but I didn’t think it’d ever turn that serious. Please, Taka, just tell me what happened.”

Mitsuya shook his head, about to lower the ice pack until you shot him a pointed look. With a small exhale through his nose, he kept it on his jaw while he spoke. “I told you, he was probably pissed he couldn’t get a free meal outta me-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Haji wouldn’t explode like that over a fucking chicken sandwich.” You huffed, frustrated at his evasive behavior. He was holding back information on purpose, you were certain. Ever since the fitting, he'd been acting weird all evening. And that fight only solidified your suspicions. “Just tell me what started it!”

"Doesn’t matter."

"Taka-"

"Let it go, [______]." He laid back on your couch and made himself comfortable, even so much as turning on your tv to fill over the dead conversation. Mitsuya trained his eyes on the lit-up screen, still icing his jaw as he subtly avoided eye contact.

You could just scream.

Childishly, you snatched the remote from his hand and switched it back off. The lavender haired threw his head back in defeat, the hand holding the ice pack slowly coming down as Mitsuya eyed you from his peripheral; so stubborn.

“Be honest. It was about me again, wasn’t it?” His silence spoke volumes. “So it was then. Ugh, okay listen, I get that you’re both really protective of me, I do, but that doesn’t excuse-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You choked. Though, only on your words.

With that now hanging up in the air, you gaped like a damn goldfish, the remote slipping out your grasp and clambering to the floor with a clack. Mitsuya exhaled; no turning back now. “You…huh?”

“Yep. Have been for a while, actually.” He placed his arms behind the couch, wry smirk on his face. “Planned to tell you over dinner tonight, but that backfired fast, no thanks to that walking steroid you call a boyfriend.”

“Y-…You’re messing with me. Right?” The designer offered a humorless laugh, gesturing to his split lip and bruised jaw.

“Didn’t get hit for saying what a great pal you were, [______].”

Now it was your turn to be silent. A lump began to form in your throat, overwhelmed with the newfound information, borderline confession.

“So then…what did you say to Haji to make him so angry?”

For a split second, you saw a glint within his pools of amethyst as they slowly rendered to a deep violet. Staring at you from beneath his pretty lashes, Mitsuya resembled that of a starved animal on the verge of cornering its prey, causing a sudden warmth to envelop you as you squirmed under his heady gaze.

Sitting up a little, he merely beckoned you to his empty lap. You blinked widely at him, sputtering as you tried to protest the idea. But, what he said next played into your curiosity.

“C’mere, and I’ll show you.”

You blinked at him, uncertain; he made no move to rush you. If you were against the idea, you were more than welcome to decline and tell him to shove it. However, when you eventually crawled into the awaiting throne, settling all your weight on top of him to the point he couldn’t keep from groaning shamelessly, Mitsuya was fucking elated.

You gripped his shirt at the shoulders, sporting that signature pout you’d do whenever you wanted something from him—The designer was more than ready to give it to you. All you had to do was say so.

“Hajime’s gonna kill you if he finds out, though. Don’t want you getting hurt again because of me…”

Mitsuya chuckled, hands slowly rubbing up your thighs until they settled on your hips. “Don’t worry about it, sweet thing. He may have gotten two hits on me today, but all I need is one tomorrow.”

#🍁wasabi #COME GET YOUR FOOD #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev smut #tr smut #tokyorev scenarios #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey #baji #mitsuya #draken

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putellas11 · 1 year

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A/N: Finally! So happy I was able to get this up in time to celebrate Alexia's return!!! Similar to Just a Girl, this was a big challenge for me and I was determined to see it through. This is a story of how love can shine a light in the darkest of moments. btw this is a long one so settle in.

The Missing Piece (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

In the blink of an eye, everything changed.

A life once lived passionately and carefree, now overwhelmed with uncertainty and trepidation. How else are you supposed to feel when faced with the possibility of losing what you hold most dear? If you lose your guiding light, will you make it on your own or will you wander aimlessly through life?

These are the questions that have invaded your mind. It’s all you can think about. They keep you up at night and leave you exhausted the following morning. You feel their weight on your shoulders dragging you down. They leave you gasping for air as you struggle to just keep your head above water. And the one person who can help you and protect you from it all, is the very person you’re at risk of losing.

The only thing that can distract you, even if it’s for the briefest of moments, is art. It’s the only way you can convey what words simply cannot express. When you feel crippled with pain and see no hope in sight, art is your only escape. With your brush, you create a world filled with light and hope. Because unlike life, art is forgiving. When you make a mess, you can paint over it. You can try again.

Unlike life, art gives you second chances.

"Dios mio, that storeroom is a mess!" your coworker, Carla exclaims, appearing by your side. She drops a box of coffee beans on the floor and with the back of her hand, wipes a drop of sweat from her brow. “Took me 10 minutes just to find this.”

Behind the counter, your attention is on the sketchbook in your hands. When the crowd dies down and you get a little break from taking orders, the small sketchbook comes out from under the counter. Everything from the small details of the cafe to the faces of those who visit it, are you sources of inspiration.

“You mean the one we spent all night organizing last week?”

Annoyance radiates from Carla. “That can’t be us making all that mess, right?” she says, hands on her waist and her foot tapping repeatedly against the floor. “I’m convinced someone is sneaking in at night and trashing the place.”

The absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, and she finally gets your full attention. “So, they don’t sneak in to steal anything? All they want to do is make a mess?”

Carla nods with confidence. “It’s the only logical explanation.”

How she manages to keep a straight face, you do not know. But her eyes certainly give her away. Like you, Carla has no intention of being a barista forever. Put two people together who don’t take their job too seriously and what do you get? A messy storeroom.

“You’re ridiculous.” With a smile, you shake your head and return your focus back to the sketchbook.

Carla leans in to take a peek at what you’re drawing, and it doesn’t take long for her to pick out your subject: a young woman sitting by the window, completely immersed in a book. You picked her out because of her auburn hair and the way it shines so bright bathed by rays of sunlight.

"How's the exhibit coming along, by the way?" Carla asks.

It's a simple question that elicits a deep sigh from your lips. Just the mention of it forces you to close the sketchbook and tuck it away under the counter. "It's going...good."

Carla raises her eyebrow, catching on to your very obvious hesitation. "But…" she says, encouraging you to spill whatever it is that’s bothering you.

"I've gotten great feedback from everyone I've shown the pieces to, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. It's like there's something else I need to say, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what that is."

It’s been nothing but sleepless nights staring at a blank canvas just waiting for inspiration to strike. All the other pieces came so naturally to you. Granted, all of them are dedicated to your mother. But still, you've never experienced something quite like this and with the exhibit only a few months away, you're getting a little restless.

You hope Carla might have some words of wisdom to break you out of the funk you’re in, but the door of the cafe creaks open, and a woman walks in.

Break time is over.

Like clockwork, Carla takes her position by your side at the brewing station, ready to prepare whatever order the customer might want.

"Hola! What can I get you?" You give the woman the same greeting and smile you give to them all.

The woman glances at Carla, and for a brief moment, it gives you the impression that there might actually be some meaning behind it. But you dismiss it — it's probably nothing.

"Just a cortado, please."

"And the name for the order?" you ask, busy staring at the screen.

"...Alexia."

It takes the woman a second too long to say her name, but again, you pay it no mind. You've taken thousands of orders by now, and they're all a little different from the last. Some customers are chatty and some straight to the point. Either way, you take their order and send them on their way. You don’t have the energy for anything else.

Carla, an expert by now, has the order done in a second and leaves it on the counter. She shares a look again with the woman, and this time it does spark your interest. You make a note to ask Carla about it later.

The door opens and closes, and now there's one less customer inside the cafe to worry about.

"You know," Carla says, swinging her arm over your shoulder, "that thing you're missing? It might just be standing right in front of you."

You scoff in response, "if only it were that easy."

Carla's expression hints that she wants to say something else, but instead, she gives you a comfortable squeeze on the shoulder.

You’re about to ask her about those looks she was sharing with the woman, but you’re interrupted by the phone vibrating inside your apron pocket.

It’s a simple message and it doesn’t deliver any bad news, but no matter how many times you receive it, your heart drops to your stomach.

"Todo bien?" Carla asks.

You nod, typing away your response. "Mama just finished her treatment. Tia is taking her home now." Tucking the phone back in your apron, a soft "merde" escapes from your lips.

Only a year ago, you were living in France with the world at your fingertips. Everything was absolutely perfect. It’s where you went to art school and poured your heart and soul into every sketch and painting with the ultimate goal of perfecting your talent. And when you graduated, all your hard work paid off when Cécile Guth — a painter you deeply admired — granted you the opportunity to be her apprentice. In France, life was art, and art was your life.

But that all changed when your mom got sick.

Leukemia.

That’s when everything came to a halt. The cloud you had been living on suddenly evaporated, and you came crashing down, face first into a harsh reality. You had no choice but to leave France. At first, you didn't miss the life and dreams you left behind. You were so focused on taking care of your mom that everything else was deemed irrelevant. But as the months have gone by, you wonder if you'll ever be able to return. And if you ever do, you fear you might not be the same person.

"How's Lídia doing?" Carla asks, bringing you back to reality.

"She's a fighter," you say with a sad smile. "She tries to be strong for my sake, but I can see she's suffering. Chemo is supposed to help but honestly, I feel like it's hurting her more than that damn cancer ever could."

Without a second to waste, Carla opens her arms and pulls you into a hug you so desperately need. You've only known each other for a year, but she's been by your side during the most difficult time of your life.

"On a happier note, the flyers for the class are done," you say, wiping away the single tear from your cheek.

Carla, sensing the need to lighten up the mood, claps her hands excitedly. "I'm telling you, you should have had them made a long time ago!"

It was Carla’s idea to have flyers made to promote your small art class, The First Brushstroke. Working at the cafe isn’t exactly making you rich — not that you need to be, but you definitely need an extra source of income with your mom obviously not able to work.

“I’m picking them up on my way home. If I can get just three more regulars, I’ll be good.”

Carla waves your doubts away, “trust me, I’m a genius. I bet that you’ll have to find a bigger studio in a few months.”

The door opens once again and it’s time to repeat the routine all over again. You’re not sure how much longer you can take this.

“I hope you’re right.”

__________________________

Once again, you find yourself sitting in front of a blank canvas, just staring at it intently with no hope in sight. All the colors and shapes that once flowed so naturally through your mind seem to have vanished. You’re left staring at nothing, feeling frustrated and helpless. Every time you dip your brush into the paint and make a few strokes on the canvas, it feels forced. Art isn’t supposed to feel forced. It’s meant to feel effortless and natural.

With a sigh you set down your brush and lean back on the chair. Looking around the room, you see a clutter of art supplies and splotches of paint decorating the floor. Very few traces are left of what was once your childhood bedroom. It was actually your mom’s idea to turn it into a little studio when you moved back home. Her way of helping you keep your passion alive, you suppose.

Admitting defeat, you stand up and walk away from the canvas. The missing piece yet to be found.

You find your mom in her room, tucked under the blankets with a book in her hands. Physically, she has changed so much. A strong woman capable of running mile after mile is now barely able to walk a few feet on her own. Thick, luscious hair is now thin and falls off at the slightest touch.

And yet, in her eyes, you see the same woman who used to run all over the house with you playing hide and seek. The same woman who held you on her hip as she made pancakes with chocolate syrup smiles. Inside, she still has that raw passion and intensity as when she danced flamenco. She’s still your mom but it’s like you lose a little more of her with each passing day.

“Hi, mama,” you greet her, peeking your head inside the room.

The moment she sees you, a big smile appears. “Hola, mi vida. Come in.”

The book is placed to the side, and her arms welcome you as you lay down next to her. She doesn’t want you to ask about today’s treatment or how she’s feeling. She’s tired of only giving you bad news. Even when you’re the one that is supposed to look after her, her priority is still looking after you.

So instead of asking, you let her gather her strength and run her fingers through your hair. She asks about your day, and you tell her everything to the smallest detail. She gets a nice chuckle out of Carla’s suspicions about who keeps messing up the storeroom.

“And that missing piece of yours?”

You shake your head. “Still missing and I’m just about ready to give it up. Honestly mama, I think it’s just me being a perfectionist.”

She hums but doesn’t say anything in response right away. “I think…” she says, “that if that heart of yours is telling you that something is missing, you should listen.”

Growing up, your mom would never allow frustration to consume you to the point of giving up. She would guide you through whatever you needed until you came out on the other side. She has always been your guiding light when you just can’t seem to find your way.

You look up at her and smile. “You’re so wise.”

A familiar mischievous glint that you rarely see nowadays appears in her eyes. “Well, one of us has to be.”

“Mama!”

But the two of you share a laugh, and it’s a sound you hope to hear forever and never forget.

__________________________

Tuesdays are slow. The early morning rush of customers has come and gone, and now the café is left with only a few scattered customers. On days like this, there’s only a need for one person behind the counter, and today that lucky person is you.

With Carla not around to keep you company, the only goal is to keep yourself busy. Occasionally, you’ll take out the sketchbook, but nothing seems to maintain your interest for long. You’re in a proper funk, and rather than fight it, you have decided to embrace it. Even though you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re missing a piece for the exhibit, at this point, you’re only driving yourself crazy.

If the missing piece wants to be found, it will make its way to you eventually.

The door of the coffee shop swings open, and it takes you a second, but you recognize her as the woman sharing those looks with Carla.

“¡Hola, bienvenida!”

The woman gives you a soft smile, “Hi,” she says, tapping her fingers on the counter, “A cortado, please.”

With a nod, you input her order on the screen, “name for the order?”

Once again, the woman takes just a second too long to respond. This time you glance up just in time to catch a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

“Alexia,” she says with a breath.

As you prepare the order, you can see her taking a keen interest in one of the flyers for your art class. You left them up on the counter so that everyone could see, but as you expected, barely anyone has paid much attention.

Alexia, on the other hand, not only takes one from the stack, but she seems to be genuinely curious. If Carla was here, she would urge you to talk to her. But the truth is, you’ve never been good at selling yourself. You’ve always preferred to let your art speak for you, and for itself.

You place her cortado within Alexia’s reach and as casually as you can, ask, "Interested in taking an art class?"

Alexia shifts her weight nervously and chuckles, "I'm not very good."

Out of fear that you’ll come off too eager and scare her away, you grab a towel and start wiping the counter that clearly doesn’t need much cleaning. “More reason to sign up.”

“I’ll sign up if you ask me to.”

Your hand stills at her words. “Um…” Something about the way she said them makes you hesitant to look at her. “Yeah... you should sign up.”

But she doesn’t let you off the hook that easily.

“Look at me and ask.”

And when you do look at her, you’re left speechless by what you see. This is the first time you look at her — really look at her, and it makes you feel vulnerable, exposed. Alexia’s not just looking at you - she’s looking through you. All of your flaws, insecurities, and imperfections seem to be on full display.

You feel seen.

You struggle to speak, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. “Please, sign up for my class.”

“Finally.” Alexia says and she doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds, almost as if she’s relishing the moment. Eventually, the corners of her lips tug upwards in a smile, “I’ll think about it.”

You want to say something to convince her, but you’re left speechless. No one has looked at you like that in a very, very long time. It's a scary feeling, but at the same time, there's a sense of excitement brewing in the pit of your stomach.

With the flyer and coffee in her hands, Alexia gives you a little nod. “Nos vemos.”

You watch as she walks out of the cafe, leaving you to grapple with the unexpected feelings she sparked in you.

The rest of your shift goes unbearably slow. With barely any customers to keep your mind busy, it keeps wandering back to Alexia. The exchange was confusing, unexpected, and strange. And yet, you want to talk to her again.

It’s only when you get home that you’re distracted enough to not think about her, and it’s not for a great reason.

Your mom has good days and bad days and when you got home, your aunt’s expression told you all you needed to know. Today is a bad day.

On the bad days, there’s very little you can do besides make sure she is comfortable. These are the days that hurt the most. You feel powerless and the questions that keep you up at night gain power over you. You try so hard to put on a brave face for her. She can handle the cancer, but not the sadness in your eyes.

After dinner, you’re lying in bed with her watching a movie. It’s a bad day ritual. It’s the perfect way to embrace a new world — a new reality in which your mom is not sick and everything is as it should be.

Halfway through the movie, your phone buzzes softly beside you.

A notification lights up the display: Alexia Putellas has registered for The First Brushstroke class.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body as you read her name. You can't help but whisper it out loud, "Alexia."

Your mom's voice, curious and gentle, interrupts your thoughts. "Did you say something, mija?"

Quickly you lock the screen and shake your head. "It's nothing, mama."

There's no point in explaining how one simple look from a stranger has shaken you to your core. How can you possibly explain something you, yourself don’t understand?

__________________________

There’s a vibrant energy that flows through the narrow, winding streets of La Vila de Gràcia district. Before moving away, Gràcia was where you would spend most of your time. You felt understood and encouraged by all of the artists displaying their artwork on the streets. So, when you moved back and needed to find an art studio to host your class, you knew exactly where to look.

The art studio itself is small but fulfills your needs and most importantly, it’s within your budget. The walls are decorated with various pieces of artwork, from sketches and charcoal drawings to oil paintings. At the bottom right corner each one are your initials, and the only hint of the paintings being created by your hand. At the front of the room is a large wooden easel, holding a blank canvas that in a few hours will be brought to life with vibrant strokes of color.

The class is for beginners, so you don’t put too much pressure on yourself. There’s no need for everything to be perfect. In fact, you encourage mistakes. Most often than not, mistakes have the potential to become something unexpectedly beautiful.

With the class set to begin shortly, those who signed up start trickling in. A couple takes a seat in the back of the room and right away you can tell it might be their first date. He hesitates to scoot his stool a little closer to her, and she tries to hide the blush in her cheeks when he finally does.

A few of your regulars have the confidence to immediately go and collect their paint brushes, tubes of paint, and containers of water without being told to do so. Their confidence spreads through the room, and eventually, everyone has what they need to start the class.

Only one easel stands alone.

You glance at the clock on the wall and feel your heart sink a bit. It seems Alexia changed her mind and won’t be coming after all. You try to pretend it doesn’t bother you, but disappointment is an unwanted visitor tonight. Still, you gather the supplies she might need and leave them for her by the easel. Just in case.

“Hello everyone, thank you all for being here” you offer a smile to the faces looking at you with anticipation, “tonight, we’ll be focusing on blending colors to create a gradient effect. If this is your first time —”

The door swings open and everyone's heads snap in its direction. Alexia steps inside the studio and you forget whatever it is you were about to say.

She stops at the entrance, her eyes locked on you.

Alexia’s presence sparks an excited chatter amongst the class but their voices are muffled in your ears. You’re entirely captivated by her.

“Hi,” you greet her.

“Hi,” she says with the softest of smiles.

Finally taking notice of the others in the studio, Alexia gives them all a quick nod before taking a seat.

Before, everyone’s eyes were on you. Now, you see them all taking not-so secretive glances at Alexia. You can only assume it’s because she made a late entrance, but deep down, you have a feeling there might be more to it than that.

You clear your throat and bring everyone's attention back to you. “Um… yeah, I as I was saying,” but it takes you a second to regain your train of thought, “right — if this is your first time, feel free to follow along to what I paint, it will be something really simple. But, if your mind or your heart calls out for something else, don’t hesitate.”

As promised, your painting is of a simple sunset with silhouettes of pine trees. You show the students how to mix the colors together with a blending brush, starting with a light shade and gradually adding darker tones for a seamless transition. A painting of this simplicity would normally take you a few minutes, but you take your time to explain the different techniques and all the possible color combinations.

With the painting done, it’s time for you to walk around the studio and give each student your individual attention. You encourage those who are hesitant to be bold and give praises to those that show improvement since the last time you saw them.

Eventually, you make your way to Alexia. When she notices you, she looks down somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s so bad,” she says softly, avoiding your gaze.

You take a closer look at her painting. It's a striking red and blue background with the silhouette of a young girl holding a ball against her hip. Despite the simple composition, there's something poignant and personal about it. From your experience, most beginner students choose something generic, easy. But It's clear that Alexia’s painting is anything but.

"It's not bad," you say gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's personal, no? I think that’s what makes it beautiful."

Your words seem to give Alexia a little bit of confidence because she looks up at you, “gracias.” Her eyes drift down at your hand still on her shoulder, a soft sigh through parted lips.

Fearing you might have crossed an invisible line, you pull away swiftly and give her a little nod. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the class goes by in a blur but all throughout you feel overwhelmed by Alexia. You feel her eyes on you the entire time. And while you certainly hope you didn’t make it too obvious, every time she flicked her hair, you noticed. When she scrunched her eyebrows in deep focus, you noticed.

The students stand up and get ready to leave, but before some walk out of the studio, they do something that surprises you. They walk up to Alexia with a glint in their eyes, and ask her for a picture. She complies with every request.

Clearly, Alexia is someone important and you feel embarrassed for not knowing why.

Only the couple and Alexia remain in the studio. You start cleaning up all the supplies scattered all while pretending not to listen. With what you do manage to catch of their conversation, your best guess is that it has something to do with a football club which is something you know very little about. Sports are not really your thing and it has nothing to do with being forced to play goalie once when you were six, and then proceeding to get a ball kicked at your face. Repeatedly.

Alexia and the couple exchange farewells and the conversation comes to an end. With your back turned, you only hear the sound of the door opening and closing and then, a brief silence.

“Do you usually stay and clean?”

Alexia’s voice startles you, causing you to jump and let out a shriek. You assumed she had left like everyone else. It’s not like she has a reason to stay.

“Oh!” she says, taking a step closer with a look of concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Slightly embarrassed at your reaction, you take a deep to calm your beating heart. “No, uh,” you say with a light chuckle, hand on your chest. “I stay and clean up. It’s part of the gig.”

Alexia looks around, noticing all the dirty brushes and containers that will surely keep you occupied for another hour. Without a word, she follows your lead and starts picking up as well.

“Wait, you really don’t have to.”

She stops and looks at you with the same intensity she did at the coffee shop. “I want to.”

Once again, you're left speechless by one simple look and unable to make any further protests. Alexia seems to have this power of you that you find both unsettling and strangely exhilarating.

With all the brushes and containers in the sink, you notice she has no intention of leaving until the task is complete.

“I wash, you dry?” you suggest, turning on the faucet to allow the water to remove the excess paint from the brushes.

“You wash, I dry.” Alexia stands next to you, her arm bushing ever so slightly against yours.

It’s a small studio, so it’s a small sink. You’re acutely aware of the warmth radiating from her and you feel it spreading through you.

"I know it's a little obvious since you're the teacher and all," Alexia says, meticulously cleaning the brushes with a level of care and precision most people wouldn't exhibit. "But you’re really talented."

Your laughter is warm and appreciative. "That's quite a compliment based on just that small painting I did."

Alexia shakes her head slightly and her gaze drifts up to the paintings and sketches adorning the walls of the studio. "These are all yours, right?"

You don't bother looking up at the paintings. You're well aware of the pieces she's referring to. Instead, you fix your eyes on her, astonishment subtly etched on your face.

"You noticed."

Alexia meets your gaze. "Hard not to."

For a brief moment, both of you remain silent, allowing the compliment to linger in the air. But you feel flustered, so you look away and try to think of something to change the subject.

"Do you mind if I ask what you do?"

Alexia straightens her posture with an unmistakable hint of pride. "I play for Barça."

And you feel like idiot for not knowing that. "No wonder everyone was so starstruck when you walked in."

Alexia's lips curve into a tight, shy smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that," she says, as she finishes drying the last of the brushes.

"Don't be," you say, shifting your weight against the sink. "I should apologize for being from here and not recognizing you. I feel like I'm committing some sort of crime."

Her laughter is light, and she leans in ever so slightly. "You know, I think there's a reward for turning in people like you," she teases.

Biting your bottom lip to stifle a grin, you reply, "And if I offer a better reward for keeping my secret?"

Alexia edges slightly closer, curiosity dancing in her eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

Her proximity sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "How about a private class next Friday? You'll have the teacher all to yourself."

Alexia pretends to ponder it for a moment, but eventually extends her hand, and you take it without hesitation.

"We have a deal."

__________________________

Over the next few days, you find yourself more attentive than ever at who enters the cafe. Every time the door swings open, your head instinctively turns in its direction. Not only that, you’re so lost in thought that you struggle to remember even the simplest of orders.

After you botch the third order of the day, Carla's curiosity gets the better of her. "Okay, I have to know," she says, her arms crossed over her chest, "what's got your head in the clouds?"

"Sorry... I just have something on my mind, that's all," you reply, trying to dismiss it. "It’s stupid."

She seems willing to let it go, but when you reach for the whole milk, she has to intervene. "He asked for oat milk," she points out, swapping the milk cartons for you. "Alright, spill it — and I don't mean the drink."

With the customer only a few feet away, you lower your voice so only Carla can hear. "I met someone…"

Carla's eyebrows rise in intrigue. "I like where this is going."

You quickly complete the order under Carla's watchful gaze and hand it to the customer with an apologetic smile.

Once he walks out of the cafe, Carla swivels back to you. "You were saying."

"She was at my class last week even stayed to help me clean up. You know I haven't exactly flirted with anyone in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened. And now…" you take a deep breath, "I can't stop thinking about her,” you say rather quickly, almost embarrassed.

“It doesn't help that she's a regular here so I'm expecting her to walk through that door any second, and it has me on edge."

"Wait," Carla says, holding her hand up, "she's a regular?"

You nod. "Yeah, it’s Alexia. I think you know her actually."

You still haven't forgotten the glances her and Alexia have shared in the past. But with everything that has happened, you never had the chance to ask Carla what it all meant.

Upon hearing Alexia's name, the broadest grin spreads across Carla's face.

"What?" you ask, puzzled.

"It's about damn time!" She exclaims, a tad too loudly. The few customers in the cafe glance her way, and she quickly apologizes.

"What do you mean, it's about time?"

After releasing her excitement with a few soft claps, Carla places a hand on your shoulder. "Querida, Alexia has been coming here for like two months just to see you and you barely paid her any attention. La pobre, she would get so sad whenever you asked for her name."

It all starts to make sense. So much has been happening around you but you’ve been oblivious to it all.

You playfully slap Carla on her side. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

Carla shrugs, her smile beaming. "What can I say — I'm a romantic! I didn't want to force it." Her smile dims slightly. "Besides, I figured you had a lot on your mind with your mom and the exhibit. I didn't think you were all that interested in dating."

Carla's right: dating hasn't exactly been a priority. You haven’t gone on a date in a year and it’s a fact that hasn’t exactly kept you up at night. How can you seek out love when your heart is in danger of being broken in a million little pieces? If your worst fear becomes a reality, there might not be a heart left to give. But even so, you cannot deny that while it still remains in tack, it beats a little faster at the mention of Alexia.

"You're not wrong," you concede, "but a woman like that is worth moving up the priority list."

Carla snickers and wiggles her eyebrows. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

"Very."

__________________________

It's Friday night and you can’t stop staring at the clock in your art studio. Its hands seem to mock you. Each tick echoes through the empty space, driving you mad with anticipation. It's your fault for arriving an hour early, but you just couldn't bear waiting at home any longer. You haven't felt like this in so long, and you just don't know what to do with yourself.

Back in France, you only dated casually. Some relationships were more serious than others sure, but you never really saw a future in any of them. Your heart and mind were too committed to your art, so it was difficult for anyone to compete.

But this time it feels different. Your art, which used to consume you, now seems to be somewhat in the background, and thoughts of Alexia have taken center stage.

The art studio is still. The easels and art supplies waiting in anticipation for Alexia. You set two easels in the corner next to the large windows that reveal the night sky, dotted with stars.

And if you're not staring at the clock, you're staring at the blank canvas, trying to envision the scene you want to create. But of course, your thoughts drift to Alexia, and all you can see is the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

The door to the studio opens and Alexia walks in. Immediately, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Hi," she greets you, choosing to remain standing by the door.

You fight the nerves threatening to consume you and take the necessary steps to reach her. "Hi," you reply, hands intertwined nervously behind you.

Alexia looks at you for a moment, a smirk teasing her lips. There's no doubt she can sense your nerves. "You know, I ran into some officers on the way here."

"Oh yeah?"

She hums and nods her head, "They were actually looking for someone that reminded me a lot of you."

You bite your bottom lip to suppress your laughter. You've missed being teased like this. "Well, either you led them right to me, or you kept your end of the deal."

Alexia takes a moment, a mischievous look in her eye. "She's right here, officers!"

This earns Alexia a playful nudge on her shoulder. "Alright, you got me," you admit, your laughter filling the studio.

“Are you ready to get started, captain?”

Alexia nods and follows you to the easels by the window. She doesn’t try to be slick when she scoots her stool closer you. She makes it very obvious and, you of course, make no protest.

In the beginning, you focus on giving her a few pointers on how to work with charcoal. It's all very professional, which does help calm the butterflies in your stomach.

But then Alexia glances over at your canvas and asks, "How do you do that shading thing you do?"

You give her a smile and lean in closer to her canvas. With the proximity, you can smell her perfume, her breath against your hair, her knee pressed up against yours.

When you finish explaining, you turn to Alexia, only to realize that she hasn't exactly been paying much attention to what you were doing.

"Did you listen to a word I said?" You ask teasingly.

Alexia blushes, a sheepish smile on her face. "Sorry, I got distracted," she admits, her eyes flickering to your lips for a moment. "Show me again."

And you do so, not just because you want her to learn, but because you like the feeling of having her close.

After a little while of working in peaceful silence, Alexia decides to speak up. "So, in the last class, you mentioned that you moved back here from France?"

You give her a nod, "Yeah, almost a year now."

"Why did you come back?"

Your hand stills and hovers above the canvas. It doesn't matter how much time has gone by or how many times you've had to talk about it, your mom's illness is and will always be difficult to put into words.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Alexia says, sensing your hesitation.

But you shake your head and smile, your eyes glistening. "No, it's okay," you say, voice soft but steady.

"My mom was diagnosed with cancer, and of course I had moved back to be with her. I used to say that it would take something really big for me to move back here, and… it turns out I was right."

Alexia listens intently to your every word. "I'm really sorry."

You finally gather the courage to look at Alexia, and you see two things: a sense of understanding and a little smudge of charcoal on her cheek.

"Thank you," you tell her with a small smile, which only grows bigger the longer you look at her.

"What?" she asks, confused.

"You have a little charcoal…" you tell her, pointing to the smudge on her cheek.

"Oh," she says and immediately tries to clean it off herself but fails to actually reach the spot.

"Let me help." You lean in closer to her, and with a soft, careful touch, you reach out and gently wipe the smudge away with your thumb.

Time seems to stand still as you both sit there, faces close in a moment of pure, unspoken emotion.

Slowly, you pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart pounding. The moment is broken, but the feelings remain palpable.

“Gracias,” she says, her hand on where she felt your touch.

Unlike the last class, this time there's no excuse for Alexia to stay and help you clean up. So, with the drawings done, you're both just standing a little awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

"Would you like to go for a drink? I know a bar nearby."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then a smile lights up you face. "I'd love that."

And that’s how the two of you end up at Las Vermudas, a cozy bar tucked away in the Gràcia district.

You follow Alexia to a booth in a far corner of the bar. Once you both have settled in, the bartender comes over to take your orders. You can’t keep your eyes off her as she orders her drink and when she catches you looking, she smiles.

It’s like the two of you are in your own little world. The conversation flows effortlessly and eventually, it leads back to your return.

“I felt so settled back in France. Everything just made sense. I was making all the right connections through Cécile, my mentor. It’s actually thanks to her that my work will be featured in an exhibit in a few months. Now, I have no idea where or who I’ll be next year.”

Almost like she can read your mind, Alexia asks, “What are you afraid of?”

“When I go back — if I do ever go back, I m scared that I just won’t be the same. That nothing will be the same. And that maybe I lost my chance to be truly great. It’s not just talent to succeed in my world, it’s a lot introductions with right people.”

Once again, you see nothing but understanding in Alexia. Her finger trails the edge of her glass, eyebrows slightly furrowed in thought.

"You know, there was a time when I wasn't sure I'd ever play again," she admits, her voice wavering slightly.

Your eyes widen in concern, and you lean in, eager to hear more.

"Two years ago I suffered an ACL injury and I was out for almsot a year. No matter how many times I told myself that I would come back stronger, there was still that little bit of doubt that would keep me up at night. I was so scared that I would not be the same player and my career would just be a what if."

“And are you the same player?”

A smirk tugs on her lips. “No,” she reaches for her glass and takes a small sip. “I’m better.” she says, and her smirk transforms into a proud smile.

And so you raise your own glass to her in admiration. It’s one thing to overcome an injury, but it’s another thing entirely to overcome the doubt that so desperately wants to hold you back.

After a little more back and forth and occasional teasing, you feel comfortable to bring up something that’s been on your mind.

"So, I have to admit something," you say, hesitating slightly. "You know my coworker, Carla?”

Alexia shifts in her seat “Si, we’ve talked a little here and there.”

You have a pretty good idea of what they’ve talked about — particularly how blind and clueless you’ve been for months.

But even though Alexia is no longer a stranger and you know for a fact that she’s interested in you, it doesn’t make it any easier to take that leap forward and be vulnerable with someone.

“Well, I kept getting distracted at the cafe, like I couldn’t get an order right to save my life.” You look down at the glass in your hands, “and I’m not the best barista by any means, but Carla could tell my mind was somewhere else.”

Alexia remains silent, but you feel her scooting a little closer to you.

“What were you thinking about?”

Your finger taps the glass repeatedly as you prepare yourself to reply to a question Alexia probably already knows the answer to.

“I was thinking about you.”

She scoots again a little closer, but this time actually reaches for your hand. It gives you the confidence you need to look away from the glass, and into her eyes.

“And when I told her I was thinking about you she got really excited, because as it turns out… you’ve been thinking about me too.”

A light blush spreads across Alexia's cheeks. "I thought you’d never notice me,” she says with a light chuckle. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Your eyes drift down to your hand and you watch how delicately Alexia trails over your knuckles.

"Every time I saw you at the cafe, I would try to find the reason to talk to you, but you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. So, I just waited and hoped that maybe, just maybe, you'd just look up."

Unlike so many times before in the cafe, this time you do look up. The intensity in her eyes no longer scares you. You welcome it and embrace it as the urge to close the distance and taste her lips becomes irresistible.

Everything indicates that she feels it too. You don’t think about it too much. You just do it.

When your lips finally meet, it's as if a spark ignites, sending a wave of warmth and desire throughout your entire body. The kiss, tender and sweet, makes the world around you fade away, and all that exists is the sensation of her lips.

When you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, you rest your forehead against hers and whisper, “I don’t think I’ll ever notice anyone else ever again.”

__________________________

With Alexia by your side, life takes a pleasant turn. After months of nothing but stress and just expecting the worst, she has brought a little light to your darkness. Not because she showers with grand gestures of affection. No, it’s the little things she does that mean the most. Like waiting for you outside the cafe after your shift so you’re the first person she sees. And it doesn’t matter how tired you are, seeing her waiting for you is like a breath of fresh air.

Because she makes you feel like this, it’s easy for you to embrace her world and her passions even though they differ so greatly from your own. It took a little bit of convincing and a lot of kisses, but you eventually agreed to let her teach you how to play football. You stumble and fall more often than not but Alexia is patient and encouraging. However, it’s hard for her to suppress her laughter at how many times you miss the ball and just kick the air.

But what surprises you the most, is that other than at the First Brushstroke, you’ve had no interest in painting. No longer are you driving yourself crazy with the exhibit and the damned missing piece.

“Oye,” Carla calls out to you, “stop thinking about Alexia and help me stock up the pastry shelf.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk in response but don’t bother to defend yourself. She’s right after all. “Fine, fine.”

“By the way, the owner just texted me that he might stop by tomorrow,” Carla informs you and her expression shows that she’s not all that pleased.

You throw your head back and groan, “of course he is.”

Every once in a blue moon the owner of the cafe decides to show up and pretend like he actually cares about the place. Just the mention of his possible visit makes you want to take off your apron and quit.

What makes matters worse is that Alexia won’t be waiting for you outside today. She’s traveling back with the team and you expect her to go straight home and get some rest.

The two of you are just about done restocking the shelf when the door to the cafe opens.

“Ale?”

Her eyes immediately find you and she gives you a big, beaming smile. Your heart skips a beat as you return her smile, a tangible connection passing between you even from across the cafe.

“Hola, preciosa.”

Within a second you’re in her arms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. “You’re back,” you mumble against her skin, giving a quick peck on her cheek.

“I am,” she says with a little squeeze.

Behind you, Carla clears her throat to get your attention. "Hey, can you bring out the rest of the apple puff ones from the back? I'll cover the counter."

You glance at the shelf and see more than enough of the apple puff-pastries and you, of course, catch the hint. “Will do,” you reply with a grateful smile.

You take Alexia’s hand and guide her towards the storeroom. As you pass Carla, you faintly hear Alexia say “thank you,” to her.

The moment the two of you step into the room and the door closes, your hands reach up to cradle Alexia’s face and pull her in for a slow, passionate kiss.

It’s as if all the days you've spent apart melt away. "I missed you," you murmur repeatedly against each other's lips, the words barely audible.

Alexia with her arms around your waist, draws you even closer, and you lose yourself in the warmth of her embrace.

When you finally pull apart and catch your breath, you can't help but playfully reprimand her. "You had such a long flight. Why aren’t you at home and in bed right now?"

Alexia shakes her head as if that was the last thing in her mind. "I wanted to see my girlfriend,” she says as she trails gentle kisses down your neck.

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words. Gently, you grasp her face with your hands, "I'm your girlfriend?" This is the first time the title has been uttered, but it has certainly been swirling around in your mind.

She nods with an undeniable confidence because to her, it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Yes, and I am yours."

There’s a saying: actions speak louder than words. So, rather than proclaim how much her words mean to you, you capture her lips once more for a kiss. Hands find their way underneath her shirt, tracing the curves and lines you've come to know so well. And as the intensity continues to build, Alexia attempts to back you against a wall, but when you take a step back you end up tripping over a box, stumbling backward.

Alexia tries to catch you, but her foot gets caught up in something and she ends up losing her balance as well. You find yourself in a tangled mess of limbs and unable to control your laughter.

“You weren’t kidding,” she says, extending her hand to help you up. “This place is a mess.”

You nod in agreement, hands on your hips, "Someone keeps sneaking in at night and turning the place upside down."

"Really?"

“No,” you drop the facade and smirk, "Carla and I are just incapable of cleaning up after ourselves."

Alexia chuckles and shakes her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she takes in the chaos that surrounds the two of you.

"I've got to go back” you wrap your arms around Alexia's neck, drawing her closer for a quick peck on her cheek. “Duty calls.”

Alexia nods in understanding. "Can’t leave our girl stranded.”

Walking out of the backroom, you’re relieved to not see Carla overwhelmed by a long line at the counter.

“We really need to get that place in order,” you tell Carla, pointing back to the stockroom.

Carla grimaces, “I know,” she says, “I hate to say it, but we might need to stay late today and clean up in case that idiot actually decides to show up.”

Alexia, who has been listening to the conversation, raises her hand. "I’m happy to help if you need an extra hand."

Carla looks at Alexia, then back at you with desperation in her eyes, “we definitely do.”

A part of you wants to say no because you know Alexia needs the rest, but you can already feel the muscles in your back start to tighten from all the heavy lifting that awaits you. With Alexia's help, the task of cleaning the backroom would be much more manageable.

So you give in, “Ok,” you point your finger at Alexia rather sternly, “go home, get some rest and we’ll see you here at closing.”

"So bossy,” Alexia playfully blows a kiss to you and says, "I’ll see you soon.”

Again, it’s the little things that make you fall more in love with her day by day.

__________________________

Tonight, your mom is teaching you how to cook her famous Fideuà which also happens to be one of Alexia’s favorite dishes. So, it’s only fitting that she’s by your side, helping you cook and correcting your many, many mistakes.

“Now, add the stock and wine and bring it to a simmer.”

Your mom, feeling a little too weak to stand, sits nearby at the counter, offering her guidance and expertise on the dish.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is light and filled with laughter as your mom and Alexia tease you mercilessly. The two hit it off right away, so much so that sometimes you feel like the third wheel. And while you may pout and complain, you love to see your mom regain that spark in her eyes that you love so much. All she’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. Your happiness is her happiness. So, when she sees you with Alexia, laughing and smiling, she’s satisfied.

“Oh, my beautiful daughter has always been a handful, Ale. I remember the day I found a nude magazine under her bed.”

Alexia chokes on the wine, a little bit spilling from the corners of her lips.

“Mama!”

Your mom brushes you off, a smirk on her lips. “She gave me this ridiculous excuse, saying it was to study the female form for a painting she was working on.”

“It was!”

“Mi amor, you’re a woman — all you had to do was look in a mirror. You didn’t need three magazines for that.”

You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, “dios, please make it stop.”

Alexia shares a look with your mom, and they burst into laughter.

Thankfully, the teasing comes to end, and you can focus back on the dish that you so desperately don’t want to mess up again.

"I tried so many times to make this when I was in France, but wow, it tasted terrible," you confess, shaking your head.

Your mom speaks up, her voice gentle but firm. "You see, that’s why it's important that I teach you these things while I can."

Feeling as though someone has punched you in the stomach, you turn your back to her, and you try to suppress the tears that threaten to spill. Her words serve as a painful reminder of the possibility of losing her.

Alexia quickly notices your distress and kisses your shoulder, providing you with that little bit of comfort you need to gather your emotions. To lighten the mood, she shares a few of her own cooking horror stories, making you laugh and successfully distracting you from the sadness that had momentarily gripped you.

After dinner, you take Alexia by the hand and lead her to your childhood bedroom turned art studio. Her eyes go wide with curiosity and admiration. "So, this is where the magic happens," she says. "I love it," Alexia breathes, her gaze darting around the room, taking in every detail.

You walk over to a corner where several canvases lean against the wall, each one partially covered with a cloth. Gently, you pull them away to reveal the paintings you've been working on for the upcoming exhibit.

Alexia gasps in awe, her eyes drinking in the vibrant colors and intricate details of each piece. "Incredible, mi amor.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment. "When I got the news of my mom, I felt like I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I had so much built up and I needed to just let it all out. And this is what came out.”

It only takes Alexia a few seconds to understand the meanings behind every piece. She reaches her hand out to you, and you take it seeking the comfort you can only get from her touch. She wraps her arms around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, "I can’t tell you that everything will be ok, but I can promise that I will be here for you, no matter what."

You believe her.

__________________________

Your favorite nights are the ones spent with Alexia. In her arms you feel safe and at peace. Somehow, she keeps your anxieties and worst fears far, far away. As your fingers gently trace the contours of her face, you feel a warmth and happiness you never want to go a day without. It turns out this isn’t just a fleeting infatuation, after all. Your love for her is real.

"I love you," you murmur, voice warm and sincere.

Alexia eyes flutter open and she smiles, "I love you too.”

Her words ignite something in you that has laid dormant in you for far too long. Your mind begins to race with ideas, colors, and compositions. It's as if a dam within you has burst, releasing this desire to express your love for her through your art. It's a powerful sensation that you simply cannot ignore and it demands you to act on it immediately.

With a sense of urgency, you jump out of bed and run to grab the sketchbook you carry with you everywhere in your bag.

“What are you doing?” Alexia calls out, her voice full of curiosity and a hint of amusement.

With no attempt to explain yourself, you reach for her vanity stool and place it a few feet away from the bed. The pencil in your hand starts to glide across the paper capturing the lines and curves of her body. Carefully, you study the gentle curve of her neck and the way her hair cascades over the pillow.

Alexia, now catching on to the reason behind your outburst, remains still. A comforting silence takes over the room, broken only by the sound of the pencil dancing across the page.

But the more you look at her and take in every detail of her body, the more restless she becomes. Her hands grip the bed sheet, teeth tugging on her bottom lip. With one swift motion, the sheets that cover her body fall to the ground as she gets up from the bed and walks over to you.

Hovering above you, she takes the sketchbook from your hands and sets it aside. Looking up at her, she brushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks in behind your ear. “I love how you look at me,” she whispers.

Her touch is so tender, and her words so genuine that makes you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

You feel compelled to drop down to your knees.

Hands run up and down the back of her thighs, nails digging in ever so slightly into her skin. You press your lips against her navel, and then trail down ever so slowly.

Alexia’s breath hitches with each kiss. She rests her hand on your head, her fingers threading through your hair as she gasps your name. The sound of her voice, breathy and filled with desire, sends a shiver down your spine.

When your tongue reaches her most sensitive spot, Alexia lifts her leg and rests it on the vanity stool, allowing you better access to her.

“Oh…”

With every gentle stroke and teasing touch, you proclaim your love. And in response, Alexia's holds you firmly in place, a clear indication she has no interest in ever letting you go.

And then her eyes lock onto yours, you see that same intensity that left you speechless when you first saw her — really saw her, but now you also see love in her gaze. Ever since that day in the coffee shop you have been at her mercy. But now as she trembles with pleasure by your hand and tongue, she’s the one begging for it.

Throughout the rest of the night, you take your time exploring and memorizing every curve and dip of Alexia's body with your lips. You're determined to commit every detail to memory to ensure that when it’s time, you’ll be able to capture her image her to perfection on the canvas.

__________________________

With a step back, you take a moment to appreciate the progress you've made on the painting. In a trance, the hours you've spent working on it have flown by. The creative block that has plagued you has lost its control over you.

And you have Alexia to thank.

The painting is inspired by the sketch you made that night. The sheet drapes over her body, revealing just enough of her silhouette to create a sense of mystery and allure. The image draws you in and entices you to want more, to see more. Although covered, you can see the toned contours of her body, from the definition in her arms to the powerful muscles in her legs.

Her knee peeks out from the bed sheets and a small yet very significant scar can be seen. The scar tells a story of overcoming obstacles and pushing through no matter. It’s a testament to her strength and her ability to rise above challenges and come out on top, stronger than before.

You continue working late into the night, each brushstroke bringing you closer to immortalizing Alexia. The painting still requires a lot of work to reach the level of perfection you desire, but you’re determined to have it done in time for the exhibit.

It’s the final, missing piece. They very piece that alluded you, and the very one you had given up on. But liked you hoped, it did make its way to you eventually. And it did so in the shape of the woman you fallen in love with.

__________________________

Waiting for the doctor always feels like an eternity. You hate everything about the room you’re in. The sterile environment, the faint smell of disinfectant, and the uncomfortable silence that only serves as a constant reminder of the pain and suffering your mom has had to endure.

Incapable of sitting down, you remain standing, hands wringing together as your heart beats rapidly in your chest. Each visit to this room has been a roller coaster of emotions, leaving you with a sense of dread every time you step foot inside. Even the ticking sound of the clock feels like a signal of impending heartache.

"Is Ale nervous for the game?"

Every time you've been in this room, all you've heard is bad news after bad news. The crushing weight of your mother's cancer hangs over you like a dark cloud, making it nearly impossible to focus. You long for the day when you can walk into this room without feeling like the world is collapsing around you.

"Mija?"

"Hmm?"

"The game against Real Madrid is later today, right?"

You manage a small smile, appreciating her attempt to ease your tension. "Yeah, it's today."

She smiles, her eyes sparkling with pride. Unlike you, she’s made her peace with it all. "I'm sure she'll do great."

Just as you're about to respond, the door opens, and the doctor walks in, a gentle smile on his face. Your heart races as you brace yourself for the news.

"I have good news for both of you," he begins, his tone warm and reassuring. "Lídia, the treatment has been effective. The latest blood tests show that you are in remission.”

As the doctor's words sink in, disbelief, relief, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over you in waves. After so long of only getting bad news, it's hard to believe that this moment has finally come. You've spent countless nights lying awake, fearing the worst.

You glance over at your mom, searching her face for any sign that this is just another cruel dream and that you’ll wake up from. But her eyes, filled with tears of joy, tell you that this is real and for the first time in so long, you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Really? Are you sure?" Your mom asks, disbelief and hope mixed in her voice.

"Yes, Lídia, I'm certain," he confirms. "The next step is consolidation treatment help prevent a relapse, but as of now, you're in remission and that is very good news."

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you rush to her side, enveloping her in a tight embrace. She holds you close, tears of joy and relief streaming down both of your faces.

"You’re going to be ok," you manage to choke out between sobs.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, you remember that Alexia had asked you to text her about the results. She wanted to know and be there for you, regardless of the outcome.

With trembling fingers, you pull out your phone and type a message to Alexia:

📲 – she’s in remission!!!!!!!!

📲 – we’re still shock but I’ll tell you everything later

📲 – good luck today!! I love you ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

The two of you make it back to the house in time to watch El Clásico. Even though you’re not there in person, you can tell the atmosphere in the stadium is electric. Every time Alexia appears on the screen, your heart swells up with pride.

The game is tense. Both teams are playing their hearts out, and while you try to pay attention to everything and every player, like Alexia has taught you, you're especially focused on her performance. Suddenly, she intercepts a pass from a Madrid player and makes a break for it.

Your heart races as you watch her weave through the defenders, getting closer and closer to the goal. Your eyes go wide when Alexia strikes the ball and sends it soaring into the net. The crowd goes wild, and you and your mom jump up from the couch, cheering and clapping.

Alexia's teammates swarm around her, congratulating her on the goal. Instead of walking away back to her position with the rest of the team, she points at the camera and then lifts up her jersey.

To your surprise, she reveals the words "Un pasito más, Lídia!" written on her undershirt. Just one more step.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at your mom, who is just as shocked as you are. Tears fill her eyes as she covers her mouth, touched by Alexia's dedication to her.

The little things matter, yes. But sometimes, the grand gestures sure do mean a lot too.

__________________________

Some time has passed since your mom went into remission and although there have been significant improvements in her health, there are still days when she doesn't feel her best. Today is one of those days, and unfortunately, it also happens to be the opening of the art exhibit.

As you gather your things to leave, you glance at your mom sitting on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket, looking a little pale and weary. Disappointment is evident in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, mi niña" she says, her voice heavy with regret. "I really wanted to be there for you tonight.”

You walk over and sit next to her, taking her hand in yours. "Mama, you’re not missing anything crazy. Besides, you’ll be there for the next exhibit, the one after that, and the one after that."

Your mother smiles weakly and nods. "I'm so proud of you,” she says, “tell Carla and Ale to take lots of pictures!”

“"I will, mama,” you say with a chuckle as lean down give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Tia should be here in a few minutes. Please, get some rest.”

When you step outside and close the door, you allow yourself to feel the disappointment you hid from her. Considering that all but one of the pieces are dedicated to her, of course you wanted her there. But still, you’re determined to make the most of this night to honor her and everything she has been through.

At the exhibit, you're accompanied by Carla. The gallery is buzzing with excitement, and your art has garnered a lot of attention and praise. However, you find it hard to take in the moment because Alexia is running late. Very late. The fact that she hasn't replied to any of your messages certainly doesn’t help.

Carla noticing your concern, rests a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure she'll be here any minute.”

You nod, attempting to stay focused on the event, but it's difficult not to let your emotions show. “I’m just worried that’s all.”

“I know, but she’s probably stuck in traffic or can’t find parking. You know-” of the sudden, her gaze drifts past you and towards the entrance and her eyes go wide.

Confused, you turn around to see what caught Carla’s attention. By the entrance, you see Alexia walk in with your mom by her side, holding on to her hand. Your mom looks tired but determined.

You rush towards them, shocked and tears threatening to stream down your face. "Mama! You're here!”

Alexia grins sheepishly. "I was on my here when she called me to pick her up and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I see where you get it from."

Still holding on to Alexia, you mom smiles and reaches out for you. "I couldn't let you down, mija. I just had to be here with you."

You embrace them both, overwhelmed by their presence. “I’m so happy you’re both here.”

With them by your side, the night becomes even that more special. Nothing feels better than being able to introduce your mom to fellow artists and attendees.

Eventually, a reporter from a local arts magazine pulls you aside for a brief interview, asking about the various pieces you have displayed at the exhibit.

He’s particularly interested in one. "The Missing Piece is truly something special," the reporter says, his eyes locked on the painting. "What’s the significance of its title?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, your gaze lingering on the painting. "At first, it felt like there was a piece missing for the exhibit, but it turns out that it was something I was missing from my own life."

You glance over at Alexia, who is admiring your artwork with your mom and Carla. "And when, I finally found it, everything changed. My missing piece brought me a sense of completeness and balance that I desperately needed.”

The reporter smiles. "Your feelings are evident in this piece, and it's no wonder it's drawing so much attention tonight."

"My mentor used to say that wherever the eyes go, so does the heart. And wherever the heart goes, so do the hands. The piece will live forever, and a hundred years from now someone will look at it and they’ll feel exactly what feel.”

“And what’s that?”

You glance over at Alexia once again. Almost as if she senses your gaze, she turns to meet your eyes. With a knowing smile, she winks at you, acknowledging the connection between the two you and the inspiration behind The Missing Piece.

“Love.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x imagine #woso x reader

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gh0st-t0wn3 · 7 months

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Lmk ss edits + headcanons, Part 5 (Porty MK, Artist MK, Delivery MK)

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson either Wildfire or Firecracker

- Whenever something goes wrong he says "called it." (He did not, in fact, call it)

- Calls everyone "Dude"

- Once took Redson out to the Anti-gravity Arcade and got mad when he passed out after almost 32 hours of non-stop dancing and playing arcade games

- Tells MK that he has no fashion sense but will wear the most atrocious combination of colours and patterns himself

- Has multiple ear piercings as well as a bellybutton and tongue piercing

- Once threw a party that got busted by the police and dispelled himself to avoid getting caught

- Has so much energy, if he's not at a party he's constantly walking around the apartment, if his legs start hurting he'll sit down for like 8 seconds before getting up and walking around again because he still has so much energy left

- Makes the dirtiest jokes known to man kind

- Makes the others do karaoke night with him. every. week.

- Will sometimes put on lipstick and kiss all over Redsons face and neck to make og MK jealous (trust me guys, please🙏)

- Absolutely HATES dark chocolate, it's too bitter for him

- Despises the claw machine games at the arcade, if he gets something and then it falls out of the claw he'll literally break the glass and just take it

- Lives on energy drinks

- Will refuse to drink any soft drinks when they run out of bubbles

- Loves those cringey alpha wolf memes

- Laughs at those firemen saving people in reverse videos and always sends them to Redson, who also laughs at them (yes it does concern MK and the others)

- Smells like sweat and cotton candy (its from flavoured vape smoke)

- Love language is Quality time (and by quality time I mean partying)

- Has a whole box of glowsticks

- "Hey, hey, hey guys, watch this!!" *fails at trick*

- Loves candy, especially hard candies

- Scams kids out of their tickets at the arcade

- Paints his nails a different colour every week, and almost always uses glow in the dark nail polish

- Tried to make his own firework show once and set three houses on fire

- Would rearrange someone's whole room just to mess with them

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to take prizes from the claw machines without having to actually play them

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson his Muse

- Would probably collect bones. It freaks the fuck out of MK and the other clones

- Will destroy any and every art piece if it doesn't turn out exactly how he envisioned it in his head

- Writes fanfiction

- Constantly covered in paint splatters, charcoal, glue, etc

- Hates baths, lives off dry shampoo

- He acts like a cat whenever he gets wet

- Takes great care of all his art supplies and will flip out if something is out of place

- Agreed to help Sandy paint his boat again the second time he was summoned but only if Sandy stopped changing what colour he wanted it to be after every new coat of paint (Sandy learnt his lesson the first time art MK was summoned)

- His advice is always "just kill them"

- Bites ankles

- Was almost arrested for vandalism (he ran away from the cops)

- Once painted a picture of Redson, who only said "this is pretty good" (it was in fact a genuine compliment, he loved it), and Artist almost killed him

- Analyzes his dreams as if he's the prophet predicting the end of the world

- Won't let anyone use his art supplies

- Growls at people

- Perfectionist

- Smells like paint fumes

- Love language is gift giving and words of affirmation

- If he's focusing on something really hard and something startles him, he'll jump in the air like a cat

- Was drawing at a park once and a bunch of kids were being annoying so he tripped one when it ran past him

- Collects concept art books from literally anything, movies, video games, TV shows, it doesn't even matter if he's played/watched them he just likes looking at the concept art

- Insomniac who 'cures' it with an unholy amount of caffeine

- Has drank paint water before, will do it again

- Extremely passive agressive

- MK yelled at him once for getting paint all over his bed

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to reach higher places when painting on walls and shit

(Had to use og MK has a base ref because the show did delivery MK dirty)

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson Paprika

- Loves straws, will only ever drink something if he uses a straw (I did this as a kid)

- Is constantly listening to music while doing deliveries and has absolutely passed his destination on multiple occasions

- Surprisingly witty

- Is the only MK who knows how to cook and genuinely loves it

- Has a little bit more chub than og MK does (duplicatnation did him dirty and I will never forgive them for his design)

- Has gotten into physical fights with rude customers before and would do it again

- Absolutely HATES eating fish

-His shoe laces are never tied, the amount of orders he's ruined because he tripped on his stupid laces is insane

- If he gets bored he'll just lay on the floor and do nothing

- Has accidentally eaten dog food before

- After a long day of delivering he'll pass out for hours at a time then wake up again at like 2am

- "Not to be rude, but.." proceeds to say the most disrespectful shit you've ever heard

- Either cannot keep a secret for the life of him, or will immediately forget the secret 5 mins after being told what it is, no in-between

- Him and the other clones accidently broke into a strangers house once, and he felt really bad so he cleaned the dishes before leaving (it was on the news)

- Will @ a specific person in a group chat instead of just dming them

- Sometimes eats out of the noodles he's delivering, no one has found out yet

- Smells like noodles

- Love language is Acts of service

- If he gets into a fight with someone he is fully willing and ready to resort to biting

- Saw Monkey King eat his own hair once and almost threw up

- Sometimes if a customer is being rude while ordering over the phone he'll purposely drive slow or take a longer route so their noodles are cold when they get them (og MK has told him to stop multiple times because he's scared of Pigsy thinking he's the reason they get any bad reviews)

- Has a Spotify Playlist for every possible occasion

- Gives out really good hugs and will hug people for really long periods

- Cries when he sees sad animal videos

- Can't whistle to save his life

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to hold more orders to get work done faster

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 months

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Don't Forget What's Important

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

Synopsis: The triplets see that Jack is having a bad day and do their best to try and make it better

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by @harlowcomehome 💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

AN: They're around four in this, and it's before Nova was born

Jack let out a frustrated sigh as the glass he was getting from the cabinet in order to get himself some water had suddenly fallen off the counter and had shattered into a hundred pieces beneath his feet.

As far as he was concerned, this was his last straw. He hadn't been having the best day and it seemed as if everything was simply going from bad to worse.

“Daddy!” He heard Axel yell as he was running straight toward him and Jack knew he had to stop him before he got hurt.

“Hold on bubs and let me clean this up. I don't want you stepping on glass and getting hurt.” He quietly said and Ax simply nodded.

“Okay and then you come and play with us?” He asked hopeful as he had one of his Hot Wheels in his hand and was holding it up towards him.

That made another sigh escape as he was cleaning up the glass since Jack was nowhere done with all that he had to do today.

“Ax, daddy still has a lot of work to do.” You said coming up behind Axel and he tilted his head back to look at you and you leaned down to kiss his nose making him laugh.

“Hi mommy!”

“Hi, my baby. Go back in the playroom while I help daddy clean this up, okay?”

Axel nodded and then took off in the direction that his sisters were in when you went further into the kitchen to begin helping Jack, but you were startled when he cut himself.

“Fuck!”

“Hold on, baby. Come here.” You said as you guided him to the sink and began to wash out the cut that happened to be on the palm of his hand.

As you cleaned out the cut and it stopped bleeding, you made sure there was no glass in it, and you simply glanced up at your husband and sighed.

“Babe, come here.” You said and Jack looked at you confused.

“I'm already next to you?”

“Lean down.”

Although confused, he did what he was told and he was caught off guard as you met his lips with yours and gave him several pecks as you then embraced him in a hug and began rubbing small circles on his back and you immediately felt him relax in your arms.

“I love you.” You quietly said and Jack immediately smiled.

“I love you too. So much and I needed that.” He quietly whispered as he was still holding onto you.

“I know. This hasn't been a day where everything worked out in your favor. Or anything really.”

“And I feel like I haven't spent a lot of time with them this week because I've been so busy. And of course when they come to ask me majority of the time I have to say no.” He confessed because he felt guilty.

“Can't you take a small break?”

“Not if I still want to be up at 2 in the morning.” He muttered and you could see the disappointment across his face.

“Well go ahead and take care of what you need to finish and I'll clean the rest of this up.”

“But…”

“Jackman, I'll do it. You've already cut yourself so you are not going anywhere near glass for the rest of the day. Now, out the kitchen.”

“Babe!”

“Don't make me repeat myself. I'll come check on you in a bit. I love you, now out.” You said as you were lightly pushing him out of the doorway, but he was still hesitant.

“I…”

“The sooner you get finished, the sooner you get to take a bath with me.” You said and Jack simply peeked over his shoulder at you and smirked.

“Then let me get a move on.”

Once you were finished, you went to the playroom to check on the triplets and it looked as if they were coloring something in the corner at their little desks and were taking turns.

“What are you three up to?” You asked and all three of them looked up at you and smiled.

“Making something for daddy. He looks sad.” Ivy said as she held up the card towards you.

You took it from her and smiled at all of their little drawings and messages for Jack and knew he would appreciate it. You caught sight of one of Autumn's messages even though it was spelled wrong, but you think it was supposed to say “I love you daddy even though you ate one of my chicken nuggets yesterday.” and laughed to yourself. She willingly gave him her chicken nugget and then was surprised when he actually ate it.

“Daddy is definitely going to love this when he sees it.”

“It was my idea!” Axel piped up and said as you handed their drawing back to Ivy and she began to add something else.

“Mommy, can we add glitter?” Autumn asked you as she was trying to make her way to where you kept all the art supplies.

“Um, mommy will do it. Just tell me what colors you three want to use.” You answered getting flashbacks from when you and Jack had left them for ten minutes and the glitter ended up all across the playroom and all over them which took at least two days to clean up. You just stopped finding glitter this week when that happened a month ago.

Once you finished putting on the glitter, you set it up on the bookshelf to where they couldn't reach it and went to check on Jack telling them that you would be back soon.

You made your way downstairs to where he was and peeked your head in to see him on the phone arguing with whoever was on the other end.

“I swear you aren't listening to a damn thing that I'm saying!”

Her voice was muffled, but you could tell it was Neelam.

“No, I already said no about a hundred times so do I have to say it a hundred and one times for you to get it?”

You simply walked in and attempted to sit across from him, but instead he caught your hand and pulled you into his lap.

“I… no. I'm not doing that and it can wait until two weeks from now. It's not a matter of life and death. I will finish what you originally asked me to do today and that's it or do you want to come and explain to Ivy, Axel, and Autumn why they haven't seen their father all week?”

You were guessing that she finally agreed with him when he mentioned the triplets and he hung up not even a minute later. When he did, all you heard was him sighing which you felt was his 1000th time doing today.

“Sometimes I really don't like my job when it interferes with me seeing my babies and my wife. Even though they're young, I feel like they're growing too fast and I’m missing it. I was in this house all damn day and maybe saw them twice. Axel I saw three times when he came to ask me to play with them in the kitchen when I ended up breaking the glass.”

“You know that you can always take a step back. It's not like your job is going to go away overnight and if you need a break, then take it. You are seriously overwhelmed and I was trying to do my best and not overstep and let you handle it, but today was it for me. I am worried about you and you haven't been sleeping or eating well. And I'm getting flashbacks to 2022 and I don't like that one bit. I get it, you want to provide for us, but how can you do that if you aren't at your very best? I only have one husband and I don't plan on getting remarried so you need to start taking better care of yourself because I would literally lose my mind if something happens to you. What good is it to have all these amazing things around me if I don't have you here to share it with me?” You quietly said the last part as you looked down and became more interested in your nail polish as Jack digested what you had just told him.

“Baby, I'm never going anywhere. You know that.” He quietly answered as he took your hand in his and kissed the back of it.

“No, I don't know that because you aren't doing a good job taking care of Jackman. You have taken care of everyone else especially for the last two months if we're being honest and now it's your turn. I'm taking your phone tomorrow and you are not allowed on it and you are sleeping and playing with the triplets. Nothing work related.”

“I… but babe! How am I going to play Candy Crush!?”

“What the? You still play that?” You asked, looking at him dumbfounded.

“Yes! Me and Urb do! He's going to be like 10 levels ahead of me now!”

“You are such a big baby. You can play for an hour and a half and that's it.”

“I'm your big baby and two hours.”

“No. I said what I said and don't make me call Maggie because I will.”

Jack was then quiet and focused on drawing shapes on the back of your hand and you could tell he was deep in thought.

“Jackman?”

“Yes, babe?”

“You know how important you are to me, correct? And how much I love you?”

“Yes, you tell me every day.”

“And don't you ever forget it. You four are my entire world and all I want is for you to be okay.”

Jack nodded his head and you could see his eyes watering from what you had told him. He almost came close, well technically he did lose you and he lost you twice. You got another chance to still be here with him and you didn't plan on wasting it.

“I promise I will be.”

“Now can we take a break? Just for an hour? What have you eaten today?”

“Um, you this morning and the breakfast you made me after I had you as my appetizer.”

“Lord, help me. We'll come on so we can eat. I know your babies are excited to see you.”

You and Jack made your way upstairs and noticed that it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Once you entered the kitchen, you saw why.

There was flour and sugar everywhere.

Chocolate syrup on the floor.

Fruit smashed by Ivy's foot.

Pots and pans scattering the floor.

And the triplets putting icing on what you think was supposed to be a cake.

It actually didn't look half bad.

Ivy was frosting, Axel was eating it, and Autumn was covered in it.

You and Jack were speechless.

Jack simply cleared his throat and they all turned to look at him.

“Daddy! You're too early! Go back in your office!” Axel exclaimed while he was still eating frosting.

“Babies, you know you can't be in here cooking without me or mommy.”

“Well without mommy. Daddy, you can't cook.” Ivy said as she dumped an entire container of sprinkles on the cake after topping it in different fruit.

“I…” Jack started to say but shook his head.

“Daddy, we made you a cake! You were sad so we wanted to make you happy!” Autumn said and Jack could tell that they were so proud of themselves and the last thing he was going to do was ruin it and reprimand them even if it was dangerous for them to have done it by themselves.

“For me!? And it looks so good! Thank you.” He said as he hugged all three of them as they kissed his cheek.

“We don't want you to be sad anymore.” Autumn said and Jack wiped the icing that was on her forehead before kissing it.

“This definitely made me happy and I'm sorry I haven't been around much this week.”

“Daddy, you have to work so you can pay for my Barbies. I forgive you.” Ivy said without missing a beat and finally climbing down from the stool that she was sitting on.

“Thank God I don't have to call 911.” You said loud enough for only Jack to hear and he laughed.

“Mommy, we opened the cake mix box and forgot we don't know how to use the oven so we used the tasty cakes that were on the table and the cake that was in the fridge with twinkies and swiss rolls.”

“Got damn, they must have consulted Urban because whose stomach can handle that? And icing AND sprinkles?” You said to yourself as you simply smiled at them as Jack tried not to laugh.

“We made you a card too!” Ivy said as she turned towards you.

“I’ll run and grab it.”

Once you made your way back to the kitchen, Jack was washing Autumn off in the sink and it looked like he had already wiped off Ivy and Axel when you handed Axel the card to give to him.

When he finished drying off Autumn, Axel handed it to him and as he was reading it and looking at their drawings, his eyes began to water for the second time today. It was then replaced by a smile as he placed the card on the table and squatted down to their height with his arms out and all three immediately ran into them.

“Thank you so much babies. You don't know how much daddy needed this. I love you.” Jack said as you smiled at the scene in front of you and snapped a quick pic on your phone to show him later.

“We love you too.” You heard them all say as they were still holding onto him.

“But I think someone's missing.” Jack told them and Autumn broke away from them to grab your hand and bring you closer, but she ended up slipping on the fruit on the floor which made all of you then fall into the pile of the ingredients that they used to decorate the cake and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

Now all four of you were surrounding Jack and he had all of you in a huge bear hug.

“Now this is what's important. Don't forget that.” You whispered to him and he nodded before kissing the top of your head.

“I promise I won't.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfiction #jackman thomas harlow #first babies of pg

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separatist-apologist · 8 months

Text

Buried Alive Inside My Dreams

Summary: An evil enchantress has locked Princess Feyre Archeron in a tower, secluding her from her family and removing her entirely from the outside world. Trapped and alone, Feyre turns her gaze to the stars, dreaming of returning home to her sisters- of finding peace. She's determined to escape before her birthday and the annual starfall that marks the occasion just as soon as she can figure out a way down.

When a thief breaks into her tower, Feyre takes her chances and leaves with him, unaware of who this man is and the price freedom will try and extract from her

Happy @officialfeysandweek2023

Read on AO3

PROLOGUE:

And at last, I see the light.

Feyre Archeron was ten years old when she was locked up in that tower. Ten, because she was already a threat with her bow and arrow, and too clever for her own good. She’d been caught hiding in alcove, spying on her wicked step-mother. She’d seen the spell cast over her father, but when Feyre tried to intervene, two blackguards tossed her in the dungeon while Amarantha decided what to do with her.

Perhaps killing felt too messy. Or maybe she didn’t trust the servants not to spill her secret. Some lie was made up about Feyre needing a governess because she was so miserably behind her sisters. Her father, enchanted to do nothing but agree, signed off on the entire thing. Feyre was whisked away without so much as a goodbye from her sisters.

There had been a time when Feyre was sure Nesta and Elain would figure it out. Feyre was content to wait…and then she wasn’t. Days became weeks, became months….became years. Feyre began to forget the faces of her sister. She forgot her father, her home, the palace.

She might have gone insane in that tower too tall to leap from had a little basket of supplies not been sent up, complete with a paint set. It was practically nothing—twelve tiny tins of paint, three brushes, and no paper. What she did have was the empty stone walls of the tower and her imagination.

And so Feyre Archeron, still just a child, began to paint. All the while, dreaming of the day she might finally get back home.

- - -

Combing out Feyre Archeron’s hair was a task that took the entirety of the morning. Every night, before she fell asleep, she’d braid it loosely hoping to avoid tangles and knots and every morning she woke half trapped in the floor length hair she was desperate to cut. It left her to the chore of washing her hair with the scant bucket one of the black guards occasionally sent up—their once imposing, constant presence had lessened over the years to the point that Feyre was lucky to see them once every two weeks.

Today was lucky. There, at the bottom of the large window she often sat in, was a bucket and a basket of provisions. And more paint—she’d left a note for more and whoever oversaw her imprisonment letting them know she needed water more frequently, which didn’t come, and that she was running low on paint.

At this point, Feyre barely had space left on the walls. Nearly every inch, from the pointed ceiling to the floor beneath her feet, was covered in her drawings. Sighing, Feyre turned her attention toward a piece from years before, back when she’d still been struggling to find a style that worked for her, and too angry to paint anything truly productive. She could cover it in white and start again. It would take a day to dry, but that meant tomorrow would be filled with nothing but menial chores and painting—the only thing that made her still feel sane.

But, first—her hair. Feyre dragged out the little, porcelain tub she typically kept propped against a wall. It was built for the child she’d once been, forced to fold her body uncomfortably in order to get clean.

Feyre scrubbed her body with a cake of violet scented soap before quickly rushing from the cold water and dunking her thick, long hair into the water. It took an hour to carefully wash through it, carefully combing out little tangles and burs that accumulated thanks to the length. Getting it out and wrapped in a threadbare towel was another challenge, and by the time Feyre had managed to brush it with a comb made of bones, her arms and neck ached.

Water sloshed over the edge of the tower, spilling to the vibrant grass made newly green in the open spring air. Feyre sighed, even as a lilac scented breeze caressed her cheek. Oh, but what she wouldn’t give to be out there. She’d thought of jumping more times than she could count and knew if she didn’t immediately die, she was likely to break both of her legs which would make escape useless. The black guards would find her eventually and were just as likely to cut off her legs as they were to help her.

Sighing, Feyre turned back to the tower and the mural she was working on. Inky night, with flashes of purple and green and blue—starfall. In Feyre’s mind, it was so vivid, so real. Every year on her birthday, showers of light fell from the sky, illuminating the world just for her.

Well—not really. But when she’d been a child, it certainly felt that way. Feyre had been isolated for so long that she’d take anything, and to comfort herself, she’d spun a story that someone was looking for her. Someone so powerful they could pull the stars from the sky.

At nineteen, she knew that wasn’t true. No one was looking for her, no one was pulling the stars from the sky and no one was coming to rescue her. Feyre was on her own with no idea how she might get herself out. Sighing, Feyre turned to her paints, wet her brush, and began working. It was the only thing that made her feel human anymore.

The loneliness was starting to wear on her. Feyre often found herself talking to the lizards that ran the length of the tower, peering in with jewel bright eyes. They didn’t stay long, but when they did, Feyre unloaded her every thought.

She would have given anything for conversation that didn’t exist in her head, though.

Feyre got her wish three days later. Sitting on the edge of the tower, one leg swinging over the side while her purple dress caught in the breeze, she was carefully braiding her thick hair as three black guards approached. That was unusual in and of itself. The fact that they were armed, and headed right for her?

She supposed it was going to happen eventually. Feyre had no weapons of her own—only a heavy, cast iron skillet she was allowed to cook in. How many could she take out with it, she wondered? Maybe one, before they stabbed her in the back?

“Princess!” one of them called from the ground, his reedy voice grating on her senses.

Examining her fingernails, Feyre replied, “Yes?”

“Are you alone?”

She paused. Why wouldn’t she be alone? Her reaction must have betrayed her, because all three guards slowed their steps, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. Feyre turned to look in the tower where no one but an errant bird remained. “As always,” she replied with a heavy sigh.

“A criminal is on the loose,” another informed her, his voice somehow more awful than the one before. “Your safety is of the utmost importance. Please go inside and close the shutters.”

“I won’t,” she replied with all the haughtiness she could muster. Truly, Feyre was channeling her elder sister as she remembered her. It was a perfect day—not too hot, with a nice breeze. Feyre wanted to feel the sun warm her skin, wanted to indulge in her daydreams of running across the hilly countryside and vanishing into the forest in the distance.

“Princess—”

“Run along, now,” Feyre dismissed, waving a hand while turning her eyes back to the sky. They grumbled, but as long as they were forbidden from killing her, they were forced to obey. Her mind shifted to the criminal. If her step-mother was chasing this person down, Feyre very much doubted they were much of a criminal at all.

Feyre watched the black guards return to the forest they’d run from, intent on hunting down their missing criminal. “Good luck,” she whispered into the world. Foolish, to wish someone on the run any luck at all.

But Feyre knew better than most what Amarantha was like.

It took three more days for Amarantha to show her ugly face. She merely appeared while Feyre was in the middle of painting, clicking her tongue against her teeth. “Filthy as always, dear.”

Feyre’s heart immediately picked up. “Is it that time, again?”

“How compliant you’ve grown. What happened to the little girl who bit?” Amarantha crooned, tucking a piece of ruby hair behind her ear. Feyre indulged in a fantasy in which she bashed Amarantha’s face in with her skillet until her blood dripped through the cracks of stone floor of the tower and Feyre was left with nothing but a rotting, sneering corpse.

“Just get it over with,” Feyre said, thrusting out her wrist. It was the same story. Something in Feyre’s blood slowed Amarantha’s aging, and something in her hair made her step-mother eternally young. It had to do with her mother, and how she’d become pregnant.

A prick of her finger, and three small drops of blood against the snow, promised three beautiful, magical daughters. Amarantha had told her this, once—as a child, sobbing in the tower and begging for her sisters.

“This is where you belong, pretty Feyre. You were nothing but my magical little tool.”

Feyre sometimes wondered if Amarantha wasn’t responsible for her mothers death. If everything that happened to her hadn’t been planned before Feyre had ever been born. She did feel like a pawn in Amarantha’s game, with rules so complex it would take Feyre a thousand lifetimes to untangle.

Reaching for her wrist, Amarantha dragged one long, blood red nail against the delicate, fair skin and the blue vein pulsing just beneath. Feyre hissed, turning her head while Amarantha lowered her mouth and drank her fill. She didn’t need much—a few drops at most—but Amarantha liked to torment Feyre by taking whatever she liked.

“That’s enough!” Feyre hissed, yanking back her arm when it became too much. There was nothing pleasant about it. Just the feel of Amarantha’s teeth biting hard, leaving another crescent shaped scar on Feyre’s body.

“Someone is in a mood today. And here I thought you might like news of your sisters.”

Feyre’s head snapped up. “Are they well?”

“Hair, first,” Amarantha replied, tutting softly. Reaching for the end of her thick, long braid, Feyre raked her fingers through the ends until she had a few golden brown strands. Amarantha took them, pocketing them in her velvet, black dress.

“Your sisters are well. In fact, Nesta intends to visit you soon. That’ll be nice, don’t you think?”

The way her step-mother said those words, with that sharp, gleaming smile, made Feyre’s stomach sick.

“I don’t want to see her,” Feyre lied. She wanted nothing more than to see her sisters. And if Nesta came, it meant that Nesta would learn the truth of things—Feyre would tell her everything, would beg her to take her out. Had Nesta changed so much that she’d leave Feyre behind? It was her biggest fear, that her sisters had become poisoned the way their father had, and didn’t care if she was alive or not.

“Oh, don’t be so petulant,” Amarantha crooned, caressing Feyre’s face. Feyre jerked back furiously, her rage threatening to drown her. “All you ever want to talk about is your sisters and now you don’t want to see them?”

“Take me home, then,” Feyre pleaded.

Amarantha only laughed. “Feyre, you amuse me. Wild animals don’t belong in the palace.”

Her words were a kick to the gut. Feyre halted, eyes wide. Don’t cry, don’t cry—It didn’t matter. Amarantha’s loud, shrill laugh floated through the air as she vanished like smoke, leaving

Feyre standing in the middle of her tower with a bleeding wrist and a bruised heart.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, Feyre made her way to the window. She was going to jump, she swore it. Jump and see what happened, see—

A twinkling star overhead caught her eye, settling her for just a moment. Head inclined, Feyre whispered, “Please, save me.”

But she suspected, as the wind carried away her wish, that the stars weren’t listening.

And they’d never answer her.

Feyre woke to the sound of someone swearing. Without light in the tower, all she could hear was thudding coming from beneath her feet and a masculine voice—deep and rich like the night around her—cursing softly. Heart thudding, Feyre didn’t move, waiting to see if it was just another dream. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d hallucinated company only to realize it was her lonely mind playing tricks on her.

“Fucking kill me,” that voice whispered again. The sound of grinding stone propelled Feyre up, racing for her skillet and then, realizing she was just standing there in a thin night dress, for the closet to hide. Just in case this was a blackguard come to kill her in her sleep—she’d have the upper hand.

She left it open just enough to peek through a crack. Dust erupted from the floor as a large stone shifted. Feyre hadn’t known that even existed. Certain she was about to see a blackguard, Feyre gripped the handle of her frying pan with clammy fingers. Nerves were threatening to get the best of her, heart pounding so hard it was all she could hear.

The man who wedged his way through the tight hole was not a blackguard. Even in the dark, he was far too beautiful to work for Amarantha. She would have leached away his beauty before discarding the husk of whatever remained.

“The Mother fuck me,” the man whispered, shaking dust out of his midnight black hair. How he’d managed to get his broad shoulders through the opening was its own kind of magic. He seemed tall, muscular beneath the blue vest and white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. A bag was slung over his chest, hand protectively touching it as thought to reassure himself it was still there.

“Hello?” he called, violet blue eyes finding her murals on the wall. “What the fuck is all this?”

Feyre waited until he was right against the mural, brushing his stupid fingers through her still-wet paint. She didn’t trust him, creeping through the dark unnoticed.

“What the—”

Feyre swung hard, hitting him upside the head with her pan. The man crumpled to the floor with a woosh of air, eyes rolling up into his skull. She waited a moment before a hysterical laugh exploded out of her.

“I did that,” she whispered, crouching beside the stranger's lifeless form. A quick touch of his neck revealed he was still alive—merely knocked out for the time being. He was far too heavy to move, though Feyre did manage to get him into a chair. She bound him in thin rope that wouldn’t hold him forever—just long enough to get some answers.

And then, waiting for him to wake, she decided to rifle through his bag. Inside she found some food, a couple gold marks, a folded up piece of paper, and a small, silver ring with a blue gem encircled by pretty white diamonds. Feyre pocketed the ring, intending to hold it hostage for the time being, before unfolding the piece of paper.

Wanted! Dead or Alive For Crimes Against the Crown!

There was no name, and the picture didn’t quite line up with the beautiful man in front of her. His nose was off—crooked and overly large for what was staring in front of her. But the image was close enough.

Feyre had found her stepmother's criminal.

And, perhaps, a way out of her tower once and for all.

RHYSAND:

It was not the worst week Rhys had ever had, all things considered. Being on the run was nothing new—he’d been running since he was a teenager and his father’s kingdom had toppled under the hands of a fucking witch, who had been looking for Rhys ever since. Ever the chameleon, he’d taken to crime like a fish took to water.

She’d come close a couple times, but Rhys was always one step ahead. At least, until he started circling back to Illyria, looking for the so-called bastard prince that supposedly commanded an army of dragons and monsters. They’d been allies once upon a time—Rhys hoped they might be, again.

Her blackguards had been hunting him through the woods for a good two weeks, trying to corral him away from the valley, which only made Rhys curious. What was she hiding? What secrets did the witch have? Exploitable secrets, he hoped. Something that made her vulnerable.

Killable.

Which was how he’d found himself tied to a chair, head throbbing, while a pretty young woman held a skillet in front of his face.

“Where…” Rhys blinked, his mouth sour. “Who are you?”

The woman blinked starry blue eyes at him. Who was she? Young, no older than twenty two if he had to guess, and so beautiful it made his teeth ache. In a different world, he would have wanted her.

In this world, he wanted her to untie him.

“Who am I?” she asked, shoving that stupid fucking skillet further beneath his throat. She could absolutely kill him with it, given his hands were tied behind his back and no amount of working them against the rope was freeing him. “Who are you?”

Time to turn on the charm. “Hi,” she said, offering her his most dazzling smile. “I’m Rhysand.”

She blinked and then, the little shit, pulled out the folded wanted poster he’d had in his bag.

His bag. His mothers ring. “Where is my bag?!” he demanded, wrestling against his bindings while the woman looked at him smugly.

“I’ve hidden it! Somewhere you’ll never find.”

Rhys glanced around the room before returning to her lithe, curved frame. “It’s in your pocket, isn’t it?” he growled, holding her gaze. Her cheeks darkened and gods, was it her first day holding someone hostage? Sweeping his gaze over her, he thought she seemed just a little too thin judging from the way her collarbones jutted from beneath the pretty lavender dress she wore. Her hair, too, was braided and rebraided, likely hiding just how long that thick mass of golden brown strands truly was.

No shoes on her feet, no jacket hanging on a hook. No fireplace for warmth. “How did you get here?”

She blinked. “Don’t try and change the subject. Why are you here? What do you want with me? Is it my hair? Do you want to cut it?”

“What?” he asked, genuinely stunned.

“Sell it? Sell me?!”

“I don’t—I don’t care about your or your hair!” he insisted, finally snapping the bindings holding his wrists. She skittered back when he stood, rubbing his raw skin. She was far shorter than he’d first realized, a fact he wished he didn’t care about. “Give me back what you stole from me, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Or what?” she challenged.

“Or—” she’d removed his dagger. Reaching for it, Rhys only found an empty pocket against his chest. She grinned, so obviously pleased with herself. “Feeling me up while I’m sleeping, darling?”

“Don’t be disgusting,” she snapped, but Rhys was a little too intrigued by the idea of her hands on his body, even if he’d been unaware of it. “I’ll give you back your ring if you do something for me.”

“I’m not in the business of taking maiden heads anymore, so—”

“Shut up,” she hissed, fingers curling to fists at her side. “Stop talking. I don’t want you, and if you touch me, I’ll turn your face into pudding.”

Rhys thought he might be in love with her. Maybe that was just the concussion talking, but anyone else would have backed down. He was bigger than her, stronger than her, and had her trapped in a tower he didn’t think she could escape from. All she had was his dagger, which he suspected she’d hidden somewhere other than on her person, and a skillet he could have easily pulled out of her grasp.

And yet she wasn’t scared. She was mad. Crossing his arms over his chest, Rhys arched a brow. “Well. Go on, then. Tell me what it is you want from me.”

“I want you to take me to the Ellesmere palace—”

“No.”

Fuck no. There was no way in all the seven hells he was going anywhere near that cursed place. Amarantha would have him before he got halfway and would kill him for it.

“Then you’ll never get your ring back.”

Rhys took a threatening step toward her. “I could just take it from you.”

“I dare you,” she replied. Rhys took a breath, trying to calm himself down. His cock had responded to that bratty tone and the flash of defiance in her eyes. Who was she? What was so important about her that she needed to be locked away?

Maybe she was dangerous. Hadn’t she immediately assumed he wanted to sell her? Perhaps she was another enchantress. That might explain his inexplicable attraction to her, despite not liking her.

She took a healthy step back, still holding that skillet. Rhys sighed.

“What could you possibly need from the palace?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Revenge.”

Intriguing. “Care to share?”

Pressing her lips together, the woman shook her head back and forth. Rhys sighed. “Look. I’m not going within a hundred miles of that place. Pick anywhere else and I’ll do it—but not Ellesmere.”

The woman considered this for a moment. “Because you’re wanted?”

Because their queen is a witch and she’ll kill us both. “Sure. Let's go with that.”

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she asked, “Would you take me to Avalon?”

Right to the border, he thought darkly. He didn’t trust Beron Vanserra, either. Still, it was a week of walking to get her there which seemed a reasonable price to pay to get his mothers ring back. Besides, if this woman turned out to be working for Amarantha—and Rhys suspected she might be—he’d have some leverage.

Or he could kill her and wound the witch.

“Fine. I’ll deliver you to Avalon and in return, you’ll give me back my ring.”

There was a question there, gazing back at him. Rhys had no intention of admitting the ring had any amount of sentimental value. Let her think it a stolen trinket he intended to sell. Anything but the truth.

She extended one hand, the other still clutching her frying pan. Rhys grasped it, shaking those delicate, paint splattered fingers beneath his own rough, calloused palm. She smelled like violet and pear, and a dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose were reminiscent of a constellation of stars.

“After you, princess,” he said, trying to put emotional distance between them. That did little to settle his racing heart.

“I’m not a princess,” she snapped, tossing an errant strand of hair over her shoulder. “My name is Feyre.”

Feyre. Why did that name sound so familiar to him? It did little to calm him down. Feyre, Feyre, Feyre.

Her name felt like the answer to a question he’d been asking his whole life. She wasn’t a princess she said, and Rhys believed her.

But as he moved that slab of rock to the side again, and watched her gingerly lower herself within it, he couldn’t help but wonder if she wanted to be.

What was wrong with him?

#feysand #pro feysand #feypunzle!

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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year

Text

Being Seduced (Alex Blake x f!Reader)

Synopsis: It’s time for Alex Blake to seduce you

Words: 6.7k

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, mommy kink, dom!Alex, choking, marking, begging, edging, overstimulation, swearing

AN: This is a follow up yo my fic Seducing Her, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone.

Three days. You just had to get through the next three days without losing your mind. Easy. Simple. Anyone could do it.

You weren’t going to make it.

Alex’s fingers brushed along the skin of your neck, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. She was speaking but you couldn’t hear the words, so focused on the feeling of her touch. Her lips curled up in a self satisfied smile.

“Are you listening, darling?” she asked, drawing a step closer.

“Uh huh,” you said, eyes dragging down to the shadowed neckline of her shirt.

Her finger on your chin tilted your head up so you were looking her in the eye. They were sparkling, the amusement clear in her entire being.

“Careful, darling,” she murmured, “only good girls get fucked. You wouldn’t want me to think you’re a liar, would you?”

“No,” you groaned.

“Good.”

Her smile turned gentle before she turned on her heels, striding back into the body of the jet, taking her seat again. On shaky knees, you made your way to the place on the sofa you’d left to make a hot drink. You took a deep breath, steadying your heart until you caught her watching you over the top of her novel.

You thought being at the office might give you some respite but then, you hadn’t gone easy on her at the office. In some ways it was easier, lingering touches and lingering looks not so out of place than when out in the field. By the time you left that first day you were ready to beg her to come home with you.

She knew it. Leaving before you, she offered a wink, a brush of fingertips along the back of your neck, a heated look running over your body.

What you weren’t expecting was the text you received that night.

Lying in bed, getting ready for sleep, the vibration of your phone on your bedside table was a surprise. Assuming it was Penelope sending you a cat video, you picked up the phone then immediately spluttered.

I keep wondering how pretty you’d look on your knees for me

Alex Blake was going to be the death of you.

You left it until the morning to respond to her. It was as if you woke up with the perfect plan in place. Positioning your phone and turning the camera on yourself, you knelt in a matching pair of lingerie you’d bought because you thought it looked hot but then never had the confidence to wear. Bowing your head, but looking up from under your lashes, the timer went off.

Before you could think about it too much, you sent her the photo. You threw the phone on the bed and shrugged on your clothes for the day, resisting the urge to continually check to see if she’d seen the photo.

Sitting at your desk, you were hyper aware the moment she arrived, Union Jack travel mug placed down with a harsh thunk across the desk divider. You glanced up but she was already gone, and that only made you more nervous.

“I thought this was my week to play.”

You jerked, turning your head. She was so close, unexpectedly close. You could feel her breath ghost over your lips and you had to bite back a whine.

“I thought you’d like a… visual demonstration,” you said, “so you didn’t have to wonder anymore.”

“But now I have to go through my day knowing what you look like under all of this.” Her finger plucked at the sleeve of your shirt, “tell me, are you still wearing those delectable pieces under here?”

“Yes,” you replied, lowering your eyes, “I am.”

“You’re really testing me today,” she growled, leaving you be. Still, her gaze sat heavy on you for the rest of the morning.

Sitting with Penelope during lunch was meant to be a break from the incessant heat of Alex’s eyes on you. Even there, she managed to find you, phone vibrating against your leg.

I’m sorry for being so harsh earlier. It was a pleasant surprise to see, but I suppose it got me a little worked up. You’re very pretty on your knees

The heat in your cheeks was enough to tip Penelope off that you’d received something salacious. You were quick to retreat from her dungeon, working out why the praise had made you feel so warm. Sitting at your own desk, it was a relief to find Alex missing.

Should I tell you everything that picture has made me want to do?

Your head darted up, looking from one side to the other. She still was not around.

I can see that got your attention

She couldn’t be watching you. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as your breathing turned a little erratic.

Shall I tell you, pretty girl? Would you like that?

Your breath caught in your chest.

Yes

You only had to wait a moment for her response.

Good girl

You looked up as the woman you were texting took the seat across from you. She didn’t look at you, instead turning towards her computer monitor, clicking onto something. You averted your eyes, not needing her to catch you staring at her, practically begging to hear her response. Your phone vibrated.

I want to taste every inch of that beautiful skin you so skilfully displayed for me

Your eyes darted up but she still wasn’t looking at you.

I’d like that

Another pause before your phone vibrated.

I thought you might. I also plan on unwrapping the pretty present you’re giving me, taking my time to enjoy each new discovery. I think I could spend hours appreciating each new gift I unwrap

You definitely weren’t breathing anymore.

And then there’s all the way I could touch you. Would your neck look pretty with a necklace of my fingers? I think so

Your own fingers drifted up to the column of your neck, able to imagine it.

And then there’s the way you would feel around them. So wet and soft, clenching around them while you beg for more. I’m sure I could keep you on the edge for so long you forget your own name, pretty girl

You couldn’t look away from the phone, waiting for her to say more.

But then you do look so pretty on your knees. The thought of coming on your tongue, staring down at you as you please me, is making me want so many things. My darling girl, I wish you could feel the effect that image is having on my body right this moment

I wish I could too

Someone called your name. Looking up, your fumbled with your phone, shoving it in your desk drawer. A slow grin spread over Morgan’s face at the guilt so clearly written on yours.

“Meeting time,” he said.

“Yeah, uh, yeah.”

You stumbled to your feet, Alex as always so much more graceful behind you. She took the seat beside you, hand finding your knee under the desk. You froze, not able to focus as she slowed dragged her fingers up your leg, finding the vulnerable part of your inner thigh. Ghostlike, her fingers brushed over your already throbbing core before disappearing to clasp together on top of the table.

The meeting could have been about a rampaging monkey for all you knew, not a single word of it went into your brain after that stunt.

Returning home wasn’t the relief you were hoping for. You couldn’t let yourself bring your own release when the feel of her was still there, those words she’d sent running through your mind. She was much better at seduction than you were, your fumbling attempts nothing but an embarrassment now you were being shown the way by a master.

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You really thought I looked pretty on my knees?

You put the phone down, taking the time to start making dinner instead of waiting with your phone in your hands like someone who didn’t have a life outside her. Which you did. Definitely. You lept for the phone when you heard it vibrate.

I’ve been staring at it all day, darling girl. I’d hardly do that if I didn’t find it such a beautiful image

You smiled into your fist, liking the way her praise made you feel.

Leaving the food to cook you wandered back into your bedroom, slowly stripping the clothes from your body. With careful fingers you positioned your phone again, climbing onto the bed. Turning your back, you fell forward onto your elbows, arching your back. You turned to look over your shoulder, listening to the countdown until the photo was taken.

Personally, I think I look better on all fours

You sent the text with the photo. Shrugging on your robe, you wandered back to your food, glad to see you hadn’t started a fire while distracted. Your phone rang.

“Doctor Blake, this is a surprise,” you said, aiming for innocent.

“When you told me you were full of surprises these were not the kind I was expecting,” she said, soft in your ear.

“That’s what makes them surprises,” you replied, “have I taken your breath away yet?”

“Not quite yet, pretty girl,” she said, “I’m sure you can work harder than that.”

“Is that a challenge, Doctor Blake?” There was a thrill of excitement at the words.

“Let’s see how worked up you can get me before tomorrow night,” she said, “and if you do a good enough job I might let you skip dinner and go straight to dessert.”

“Really?”

Even over the phone her chuckle had you pressing your thighs together.

“We’ll see how well you do,” was her answer before hanging up.

You mulled over your plan while you ate, not even tasting the food. Despite being a linguist, she responded more when she was given something visual to devour. So you set up a photoshoot as best you could, trying not to overthink it.

You sent the first before bed. A shot down your body, legs spread, hand inside your underwear. It had taken great discipline not to continue touching yourself while taking it, her name ready to be moaned. But you wanted to save it for when she was in the room with you.

I don’t believe I told you it was okay for you to touch yourself

You had to bite back a groan at her words.

I can’t help myself. I keep thinking about you

If you be a good girl and stop I’ll make it worth your while tomorrow night, darling

You sent back a selfie of you lying in bed, fingers in your mouth, cheeks hollowed out as you sucked.

Good girl

The next morning you posed in the steamed up mirror, towel hanging low on your hips, arm covering your chest. It didn’t take long to get a response from her.

What a pleasant wake up call

You wandered back into your bedroom, plucking two of your nicer bras from the draw. Slinging on a pair of jeans you posed in each one in the mirror.

Red or black?

Darling girl, I doubt you’ll be wearing it long enough for it to make much of a difference

Lacy and see through it is

You purposefully put the phone down as you hurried to make breakfast, chugging some coffee in order to help you get through the commute to Quantico. Pulling on your shirt, you chanced a glance at the phone.

You don’t think that one deserves a photo too?

I have to leave some surprises, don’t I, Doctor Blake?

You just want me imagining how you’ll look tonight, naughty girl

Maybe

You had to rush out the door to not be late for work.

Alex was already sitting at her desk when you arrived, sliding into your chair just as Rossi appeared at his door. You saluted him, offering a grin in his direction. He rolled his eyes, disappearing back into his office. Alex’s eyes were resting on your face.

“Busy morning?” she asked.

“Some days it can be so hard to decide what to wear, you know?”

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled over at you. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot, even though that’s what you wanted to do. Her eyes dipped down and you knew she was imagining what might be under your shirt.

At lunch, while spearing some salad on your fork, you figured you’d given her enough of a break. Finding the picture of your own hand wrapped around your throat, back arching into the camera, your lips open in a groan, cut off just past the tip of your nose, you hit send without thinking.

Careful, darling, you wouldn’t want to scar Reid with such scandalous photos

And how would I be scarring Reid with them?

If you insist on sending those photos while I’m talking to him, you have to reap the consequences

Consequences?

Well, unless I’ve misread the situation, I’m the only one you’re sending these photos to, and I would like to keep it that way. You look too pretty to be shared

You shifted in your seat.

So I should stop sending them? Because I have a couple more from last night I didn’t show you

Send away, pretty girl. Just be aware of who’s eyes might be seeing them

You’re the only one I want seeing them

Correct answer, my good girl

You felt yourself preen at her words. You hadn’t realised how much you would like praise until it came from her.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You yelped, dropping both your phone and your fork. Morgan’s laughter followed you as you scrabbled under your desk to retrieve both. He was leaning against your desk when you emerged.

“You got a girl you haven’t been telling us about?”

“I have so many things I haven’t been telling you about, Morgan,” you replied.

“Want to fill me in?” he asked.

“Why? You that desperate to live vicariously through me while your own love life flounders?”

“I’m doing fine for myself,” he replied.

“Then keep focusing on that rather than playing detective with my life,” you said.

“You know about her mystery girl, Blake?”

You hadn’t even noticed her returning to her desk.

“If I did you would last one I told,” she replied.

“You wound me, ladies,” he said but did leave you alone after that.

You shared a look with Alex over the desk divider. There was a smirk playing around the corners of her lips and it made warmth bloom in your chest.

Later, on your way to the bathroom, you sent off another picture you’d taken. Bent over the desk in your home office, legs spread, heavy gaze looking over your shoulder, you hoped she would enjoy the imagery while sitting at her own desk.

Is that what you’ve been imagining all day? Having me bend you over my desk right here in the bullpen until you’re begging for me?

I thought I was too pretty to be shared

So you do listen to me. Good. I’ll be testing that out later tonight

Returning to your desk, she was gone, a note left by your keyboard. You plucked it up as you sat, taking a moment before you opened it. Alex’s handwriting met your eyes.

7:30pm don’t be late

An address was scrawled below. Your heart fluttered, realising that Alex must have left for the day while you were gone. It was a struggle to wait until a reasonable time to leave Quantico for the weekend. Especially as you tried to hide how eager you were, especially from Morgan who kept raising his eyebrow at you.

You rushed back to your own home, stripping out of your shirt and trousers, flinging them aside as you tried to figure out what to wear. The address was residential, and you had no idea if she’d be taking you out somewhere. A black dress. You couldn’t go wrong with a black dress. Right?

You liked how you looked in it enough, knowing that what was underneath was the real show for Alex. You did your best to change up your makeup so it didn’t just look like a less smudged version of what you’d been wearing all day. It had been a while since you’d been on a date and you wanted her to tell you how pretty you were again.

Eager, you had to sit in your car for ten minutes before knocking on the door right on 7:30. The door was pulled open and your breath caught in your chest. You’d always loved her in a turtleneck but now you were changing your mind. Your new favourite was a blouse unbuttoned just enough for you to catch a flash of lace underneath.

“My eyes are up here, darling girl,” she chuckled, finger under the chin tilting your face up to her.

“And they are beautiful,” you said, following her over the threshold, “but that doesn’t mean the rest of you doesn’t deserve my appreciation.”

She shut the door, leaning over your shoulder, bringing her face close to yours. Your eyes fell to her lips. Just as you began to lean forward, she spun away from you, crooking her finger. It took a moment for you to follow her.

“Did you dress up for me?” she asked when you finally joined her in the kitchen. Something was bubbling on the stove top, smelling delicious.

She turned to look at you when she didn’t get an answer. You nodded, clasping your hands in front of you, lowering your gaze to your feet.

“You look beautiful, darling,” she said, lifting your chin again.

The heat in your cheeks came unbidden and her eyes practically sparkled. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Almost good enough to eat,” she murmured.

She drew closer, practically pressing you against the counter. Your hands landed on her hips, wanting to draw her closer.

“So what will it be, sweet girl? Dinner or shall we head right to dessert?” she asked.

“I did well enough for dessert first?” you asked.

“This was supposed to be my turn to drive you crazy but all that’s happened is I’ve ended up being teased beyond comprehension,” she said, long fingers playing with the end of your hair, “those pictures have been driving me wild, my darling girl.”

“Then I want dessert,” you said.

She didn’t need to be told twice. She kissed you, all consuming, like she was consuming you. You pulled her closer by her hips, until your body was pressed against hers, needing her more than you’d ever needed anything before. She lifted you onto the counter, hands running up your legs until she was pushing past your skirt. Your hands pushed into her hair, kissing her from above. She was gripping your thighs with an iron grip, tongue taking its time to explore your mouth.

You loved having her between your legs, touching you, kissing you with all that intensity. You moaned into her mouth, muffled by her lips, tugging on her hair until her neck was arching up. Not able to stop yourself, you trialed your lips down, tongue darting out to taste her skin. Her fingers tightened for a moment as you found her pulse point.

She pushed you back after a moment, stepping from between your legs. You whined until she tugged you off the counter, arm wrapped around your waist. She kissed you again, softer this time, before turning you and shoving you against the counter. Her lips attached themselves to your neck, hands sliding around your body. Hands cupped your breasts and you whined again, not able to contain it. You lent back against her, head tilting as her teeth sunk in before the pain was soothed with a soft tongue, hands fondling you. Her name was a gasp on your lips, already a needy mess for her.

“Such pretty noises for me, sweet girl,” she murmured into your skin, “I want to hear them all.”

“Alex,” you begged, “please.”

“Please what?”

“I need you so bad,” you moaned as her fingers found your nipples through layers of clothing.

“Darling, you know nothing about need,” she growled, “you’ve been teasing me for weeks now. I will be taking my time with you.”

The edge of the counter dug into your stomach as she pressed you forward again, pinning you as she went back to your neck, fingers playing. Your breathing was already erratic and your knees felt weak. Her hand slid up your body, grasping your chin, turning your face towards her. Her next kiss was all tongue and teeth, moaning into your mouth while your fingers clutched at the countertop.

Her hand dipped below the neckline of your dress, seeking out more of your skin. You gasped, her fingers finding your bare breast, brushing over your hardened nipple. She made a pleased noise, kissing you deeper as she pinched. A stuttered groan fell from your lips, back arching into her touch.

“You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” she said.

“Yes,” you breathed, head falling back against her shoulder.

Her other hand was creeping up your skirt, fingertips soft against your skin. Finding your inner thigh, she must have been able to feel the way you were trembling. Ghosting over your covered core you would have happily let her take you against the countertop while still fully clothed.

“Come on, pretty girl,” she said, removing her hands from inside your dress, “I’m sure we can find somewhere so much more comfortable.”

She took your hand, leading you upstairs on wobbly knees. She paused part way up, hands cupping your cheek and stealing your breath in a swooping kiss. She was all there was for you.

You didn’t get the chance to look around her bedroom before she was kissing you again. Your hands were roaming up her back, pushing under her shirt, seeking out the warmth of her skin. She sighed into your mouth when your nails scraped down her spine. You’d never felt this out of control before, your sole focus on her. The rest of the world didn’t exist.

She spun you again, pushing you face first onto the bed. With a hand between your shoulder-blades, she kept you pinned to the mattress as her other hand wandered up the back of your thigh. Pushing your skirt up around your waist, one of her feet knocked yours apart. Tracing the edge of your underwear, she hummed. You squirmed.

“Hands on the bed, sweetheart,” she said.

You didn’t think, following her instructions. Her own hand ran down your spine, grasping your ass roughly.

“Keep them there, okay?” One of her fingers dipped below the line of your panties, stroking over the skin of one cheek.

“Yes, mommy,” you moaned.

A pause then a low chuckle.

“Oh, I like the sound of that from your lips,” she said.

Once again, fingers ghosted over your covered core, making you whine again, squirming as you tried to find more. Managing to find your clit through your underwear, she pressed down, for just a moment, earning a guttural moan from you.

“I wish you could see how pretty you look like this,” she said.

Her finger hooked into the waistband of your underwear.

“But this is a sight all for me, isn’t it, sweet girl?”

“Yes, mommy,” you gasped.

Slowly, she began to pull your underwear down your legs, exposing you to the air. You shivered, feeling so exposed to her. Her hands landed on your ass again, gently massaging. You felt the brush of her hair against your skin. You expected to feel her fingers or her tongue between your legs. What you felt instead, was teeth sinking into the flesh of your ass. Your surprised moan corresponded with a rush of wetness between your legs.

Fingers trailed through your folds, gathering wetness. You trembled as she found your clit again, slowly circling it. Her tongue ran over the bite mark she’d left on your body before laying soft kisses on your skin. Keeping your hands on the mattress, you tried to shift your body to get her finger where you wanted her.

“Please, mommy,” you moaned.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“I need-“ Her tongue ran over you, hot and wet, turning your words into a messy moan. You pressed your face into the mattress, not finishing your thought.

“What do you need?” she hummed against your heat. The feeling had your head spinning, “use your words, sweetheart.”

“I need-“ Her finger brushed against your clit. You couldn’t stop your hips pressing back, seeking her out.

She gave no warning as she drew back, leaving you feeling weak. She’d barely begun touching you and already you felt desperate. You held your breath, not sure what she was doing. A finger trailed through your heat again before disappearing.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me what you need, you can put that pretty mouth to a more productive use.”

Her hands on your hips guided you up again. You whined at her fingers dipping into your heat again, ghosting over your clit, before she was turning you towards her. You watched as her fingers toyed with the buttons of her shirt.

“Here’s what’s going to happen now,” she said, popping the first button. Your mouth went dry, “are you listening, sweetheart?”

“Yes, mommy,” you said, eyes snapping back up to hers.

“Such a good girl for me. You’re going to get down on your knees and use that wonderful tongue on me. You don’t get to get up until I say you can,” she said, gently cupping your cheek, “do you think you can do that, sweet girl?”

“Yes, mommy,” you breathed.

“Help me with this, won’t you?”

Your fingers made quick work of the rest of her buttons, grazing against her skin. She shrugged the shirt off and you devoured her with your eyes. So much skin on display, so beautiful. She made your head spin.

Her fingers pushed her trousers and panties down her legs. With a strong hand on your shoulder, she pushed you down until you were on your knees, looking up at her. She smiled down at you, stroking a hand through your hair.

“So pretty,” she mumbled.

She sat on the edge of her bed, spreading her legs. Your tongue dragged along your bottom lip, not able to look away from her dripping heat. You crawled towards her, desperate for a taste.

“Go on, sweetheart,” she said, “I know you want to.”

You first taste of her had your eyes rolling back in your head. You groaned against her cunt, a little breathy moan falling from her lips. Her hands fell to your head, pressing you against her. She wound her fingers through your hair, tugging when your nose bumped against her bundle of nerves.

You lapped at her, drinking your fill. You hadn’t realised how starved you were until you were given permission to feast. Desperate to take your time with her, you let your exploration be slow. The way she moaned your name only spurred you on. You could have spent all day between her legs, bringing her to her peak over and over again for as long as she let you.

Your tongue dipped into her entrance. Her fingers tightened on your hair, an absolutely filthy moan filling the air. You pressed the flat of your tongue to her clit before beginning to circle it. Her taste was heaven and you only wanted more.

Sucking her bundle of nerves between your lips, her hips began to roll against your face. When you looked up her body, her head was thrown back, lips parted, bra gone. You hadn’t noticed her removing it and felt a dip of disappointment at that. However, watching her palm her breast made up for it.

“Yes, sweetheart, just like that,” she moaned, “you’re doing so well for me.”

You moaned against her, the praise only spurring you on. Her fingers tightened in your hair, thighs begging to tremble beside your ears. You wanted more praise from her, wanting to please her. Your name was nothing but a moan on her lips. You kept her on edge for as long as you could.

When she came, it was as if you’d found nirvana. Her fingers were painful in your hair, the sound she made your new favourite sound. Looking up her body, you found her dark eyes trained on you, flush high on her cheeks. You kept going, tongue cleaning her up, not wanting to miss a drop, not wanting to waste a moment.

“So good,” she mumbled, “such a talented mouth.”

Your tongue dipped back into her entrance, shallowly fucking her. A strangled noise came from her chest and her fingers caught in your hair. She pushed you back, ignoring the way you whined. Her breathing was erratic, chest heaving. You watched, entranced, wondering when you could get your mouth on her breasts.

“Come here, darling girl,” she said, hand on your shoulder guiding you back up.

She pulled you onto the bed, kissing you before you could do anything. You landed on her lap, straddling her legs, as her tongue delved into your mouth. You groaned, shifting, your bare cunt not finding any purchase on her. She took her time, possibly pay back for how long you’d taken between her legs.

Her hands skimmed up your legs, pulling your skirt up but not touching you where you needed her most. You whined, hips rocking, looking for some friction. Continuing their journey up your body, they pressed against your lower back, moulding your body against yours. Gathering your hair into one hand, she pulled until your head was tilted to one side, her lips finding purchase on your skin.

“Are you ready to tell me what you need, sweetheart?” she murmured into the crook of your neck.

“I need you to touch me,” you moaned.

“I am touching you, sweet girl.” Her fingers trailed down your spine in emphasis.

“I need you to fuck me,” you whimpered.

“You need that, do you?” she hummed.

“Please, mommy,” you begged.

“Alright, sweet girl. You did so well for me I think I can give you that.”

Her lips were as slow as her hands as she pulled the dress off you, exposing skin inch by inch. Greedy fingers sought to map your body as you moaned into her mouth, your own caught up in her hair. Her hands trailed around your ribcage, cupping your breasts. Leaning back, she swept her eyes down to them, darkening when she saw exactly how lacy and see-through the insubstantial bra was.

“How long have you had this, sweetheart?” she asked, watching your nipple harden under the ministrations of her thumb.

“A few months,” you ground out, arching into her touch.

“And did you buy it with the intent of me seeing it?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” you replied, “I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh I do like it,” she said, laying a lingering, “I like it very much. So beautiful for me. Such a gorgeous girl.”

Her lips descended, catching your nipple between lips. You sighed, head falling back, baring yourself for her. The scrape of her teeth drew a long low moan from you.

“You look so pretty in it,” she mumbled into your skin, “but I’m going to take it off now. I want to see you completely unhindered.”

Her fingers were quick unhooking it. She helped you pull it from your body, dropping it to the floor. Her hands were back on you, fingers rolling your nipples as dark eyes watched you. She was devouring you with her gaze, playing with your body.

“I don’t think you know how long I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you like this,” she said, “how I’ve longed to touch you. So pretty. So beautiful.”

“Fuck, mommy, want you so bad,” you moaned.

“Why don’t you get on all fours for me, sweet girl?” she suggested, “you looked so pretty in that picture for me. I’d love to see it in person.”

You scrabbled off her lap to get into position, shame long since gone. With your forearms braced on the mattress, you left your ass in the air, legs spreading. Her hands were back on your skin, drawing patterns through the slick coated on your thighs.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re dripping for me,” she said, sounding so pleased by it, “have I really effected you this much?”

“You’re so hot, mommy,” you moaned as her fingers ghosted over your folds, “make me feel so good.”

Your head fell forward when you felt her tongue on you, your groan loud in the room. Your fingers clutched at the comforter as her tongue delved into you. Her hands were holding your hip, keeping them still while she drank her fill of you. The noises coming from you were not for anyone’s ears but hers. A linguist with a silver tongue was not surprising, but was driving you crazy.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” she moaned against your cunt, the vibrations making your nerve ending sing, “could spend forever right here tasting you.”

“Need more, mommy,” you whined when her tongue began to circle your clit, “please.”

Her tongue didn’t let up, exploring you for so long you thought you might not be able to remember your own name. Your internal muscles clenched around nothing and you were begging her for more, but she just kept lapping at you, never quite enough to sate your needs.

She ignored your whines as her fingers finally joined her mouth, seeking out your clit. Her tongue pushed into you as her fingers circled over your bundle of nerves. The sigh of relief at the feeling only seemed to urge her on. She fucked you with her tongue and you felt the pleasure building, the coil tightening.

She drew back, a sob falling from your lips. Your body cried out at the loss. Soft lips pressed kisses along your spine, soothing the sting but not what you needed. Her finger ghosted over your clit again. Your whimper had her chuckling against your shoulder blade.

“You make such beautiful sounds,” she said, “and so responsive to me.”

“Mommy, please,” you begged.

“Alright, sweet girl, you’re being so good for me, doing so well.”

With a hand on your shoulder she pulled you up until you were sitting on one of her thighs. One hand slid down your stomach, coming to rest at the apex of your thighs. The other trailed a path up your chest, between your breasts, until they rested against your neck, circling it, holding you upright against her.

Her fingers rubbed against you for a moment, coating themselves in your slick. Your head fell back against her shoulder, moaning when she found your clit again. Her fingers tightened for a moment around your neck just before she thrust into you.

She let you fuck yourself on her fingers, grinding down until her palm met your clit. She kept murmuring encouragement in your ear, so soft and coaxing. Her words made you breathless and her fingers felt so good and it was all becoming too much.

The hand around your neck slipped down, finding your breast again. She pinched your nipple right as she curled her fingers, finding just the right spot. Her name was a strangled moan and she picked up the pace, no longer letting you control it. Her front was pressed against your back, arms curling around you, keeping you right where she wanted you.

When you fell apart, her lips had just closed around your earlobe. Her name was a prayer on your lips and you shuddered, unable to catch your breath. The pleasure felt all encompassing, drowning out everything else.

You expected her to stop, to ease you through it, but she kept going. Your fingers dug in to her forearm but she still didn’t stop. It was overwhelming, the pleasure just on the edge of being painful.

“You can give me one more, can’t you sweetheart?” she breathed into your ear, “I just can’t help myself with you. I know I’m being greedy but you can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Yes, mommy,” you ground out.

“Good girl,” she said.

The open mouthed kisses she was pressing to your neck were soft but her fingers had set a relentless pace, thumb harsh on your clit as she worked to chase your high. You were nothing but the feeling of her on your skin, nothing but the moment her fingers curled again, the moment she bit down on your shoulder. No one had told you pain could feel so delicious.

Her hand came up to your throat again, holding you upright when all you wanted was to slump forward. The feeling of it, so on the edge of being dangerous, was addictive.

“Come on, sweet girl, I know you can do it,” she encouraged.

Your second orgasm hit you like a tonne of bricks. You went rigid against her, her name practically screamed into the night air. Black spots darkened your vision and she was all you could feel. This time, her fingers slipped from you once you began to relax.

She was careful with you, lowering you onto the mattress. Arms curled around your body, pulling you in until your head was resting against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. Fingers carded through your hair and soft kisses were pressed to your hairline. You looked up, seeking out her lips. She kissed you, arms tightening around you.

“You did so wonderfully for me, sweetheart,” she mumbled against your lips, “such beautiful sounds and so good at following my instructions.”

“Wanted to make you happy,” you said, pressing further against her.

“Oh, my darling girl, I’m so happy,” she said, soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

Your legs tangled with hers and you let your eyelids slip closed. Her fingers were tracing patterns down your spine and she kept running her lips along your skin.

“I’m going to clean you up, okay?” she asked, an indeterminate time later.

“‘Kay,” you said, letting her slip from your hold.

She was gone for a moment before returned, cloth damp against your skin. You watched her, the way she concentrated on you. Your heart swelled, just a little, at the sight. When she was done, you sat up, holding your arms out for her. She didn’t hesitate to join you.

“Did you leave food cooking downstairs?” you asked, remembering the smell when you arrived.

“I was making soup,” she replied, “it had a while to go simmering on the stove.”

“You knew I was going to pick dessert first.” It wasn’t a question.

“I can read you like a book.” She shrugged, “and I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

“I’m sure,” you laughed.

She kissed you, silencing your laughter. You pulled her closer, wanting to feel the press of her skin against yours.

“Come on, you need to eat,” she said.

She held out a hand to you, pulling you off the bed. You shivered, the air cool now you were no longer in the heat of passion. She pulled you closer, her skin warm.

“After dinner I suppose I should go,” you said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Who said anything about you leaving this weekend?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Alex, I didn’t bring anything with me. I don’t even have a change of clothes,” you laughed. The look she gave you silenced your amusement almost before it began.

“You won’t need them,” she told you.

“What? Why?”

The look she gave you was heavy, loaded, and it made you need to press your thighs together again.

“You wanted to show off this beautiful body of yours so badly all week.” Her finger trailed down your skin, making you involuntarily arch into her, “so now I think there shouldn’t be anything hiding it from my sight.”

And true to her word you were naked until you left early Monday morning to swing by your home before returning to work feeling far more satisfied than when you’d left Friday afternoon.

Tags: @trippol-threat @theclassicgaycousin @prentiss-theorem @nightmarish-fae @storiesofsvu @rustyzebra

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #alex blake imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

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fictionalmenxyn · 11 months

Text

Artistic Problems,

Ghost x artist!s/o

Tw:mental breakdown, swearing, hyperventilating, panic attack and I believe that’s it.

—————————————————————

Sitting at your desk, you had been drawing for an ungodly amount of hours. This project meant a lot for you as it was your finale piece for a big project you had going on. You were adding as much detail as possible, you wanted this to look thee best it could.

Sitting in many different positions as possible on one small chair didn’t help your back either. With thee amount of time put into this also caused back pain, but you didn’t care as you wanted to get this piece of art done and to make it look perfect.

Ghost, he was sat downstairs watching tv. He liked what you two called ‘quiet time’ because he is a quiet person and likes some time to himself. So it was perfect almost. He’d come and bring you some drinks or snacks and compliment your art every time he came to see you. He was slightly worried for you, it was almost midnight. He noticed you hadn’t had any breaks from your project, it was like never coming up for air if you were swimming.

He was watching tv, but all of a sudden the tv flickered off and so did the lights through the house. He raised an eyebrow but quickly whipped his head around to look at the living room door; as he heard you almost scream at the top of your lungs. He knew something was wrong.

Running upstairs, he went to your office and opened the door. Seeing your figure standing, looking down at the what once was your finale project. He reached in his pocket to grab his phone. Pulling his phone out he quickly turned the flash on. You turned around and said “Simon… what happened?!” He spoke “I think the powers been cut off, I think the whole street has too?”

You started to feel tears stream down your face. You started to panic, feeling a wave of different emotions coming over you. Ghost asked “love you alright?” He started to walk over to you and then you snapped “no, course not. My art has been deleted cause of the fucking internet!” Ghost was quite shocked at your reaction. He never thought you’d switch like this, your usually calm and collected; but when it comes to stuff like this it’s something different.

You battered your eyelashes in shock and mumbled “I’ve lost it all, Si” you looked at the ground and felt slightly dizzy. Ghost noticed and said “come on, love. Let’s go sit down on the bed and I’ll get you some water.” You cried “I spent so much time on that project. It’s all gone now, none of it would’ve saved. It’s so fucking annoying” he placed his arm gently around your shoulder and guided you to your chewed room.

Sitting on the bed, you scrunched yourself up into a hall. Knees to your chest as you cried to yourself. Ghost walked into the room, he saw your hands with fists full of your hair as you scrunched your hands in your hair. You were angry, why did the power have to go out today? Why not tomorrow or next week?

He watched as your knuckles went white, he slowly walked over and sat on the bed. He placed a hand on your back. He spoke softly “love, I have some water and biscuits for you.” You looked up he noticed your eyes now turned red from all your tears. He handed you the water as that’s what you wanted, you took a few sips and handed it back. The short time of silence was now over when you spoke “why did it have to happen today?” He shrugged and said “maybe the weather?” You said “or just my luck, I always have bad luck” Ghost spoke “do you still remember what your project looked like?” You nodded as you rested against Ghost. He offered an idea “maybe you could quickly sketch it down before you forget it ?” You smiled a little as you looked up to him and you spoke “thank you, I see your trying to help me. Sorry for snapping at you earlier it’s just-” Ghost cut you off “no need to apologise, I can understand how frustrating it is when you plan something and it all goes wrong.” You hugged him and said “thanks for understanding.” He asked “would you like me to get your sketch book?” You nodded and spoke “please, I’ll sketch it out then.” He nodded as he left.

Coming back he saw you had now changed and were under the cover. You lifted the cover up so he could come and sit next to you. You grabbed the pencil and sketch book for him and started straight away. As Ghost got comfortable, he started to watch you sketch away. It was mesmerising to him, how easy it looked when you drew. But when he would attempt all he would end up drawing was a stick figure with a skull face.

As you were finished, you flipped the page over and started to draw something else. As Ghost watched carefully he noticed it was something quite familiar. Turns out you were drawing his mask, but you added a twist to it so it would look more of your style. He muttered “should get you one like that” you smiled and replied “that’d be nice, we’d match.” He nodded in agreement.

Ghost does whatever he can do in order to make you happy or calm. When your stressed out it makes him almost feel the same way. So he does his best to make you, you again. He smiled when he watched you draw as he knows it’s your passion. He just loves you too much to watch you be stressed or upset, it makes his heart break at times. But no matter what he’ll love you.

Hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to message/ask if you want

Have a good day/night!🫶

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cebwrites · 1 year

Text

handling an overly emotional partner (Law, Zoro, Bepo)

a/n: when i tell you i literally stopped mid-drawing to write this bc i didn’t want to lose the inspiration-- i’ve been fielding some shark week nonsense lately so i figured the best remedy would be some comfort fluff from my favorite boys, enjoyyyy 〒▽〒

masc reader, he/they law word count: 1.5k

Law

They are in NO way prepared to handle any of... this

Depending on what stage of life he’s in (especially when they were younger), Law might outright call the whole thing off - but typically they’d just hand you to Pen or Shach and go hide/ruminate in his room

It’s definitely something to get used to - but something worth doing if he’s already created a bond worth keeping with you

Realistically, Law would know; it’s not like you’d spring into a blubbering mess out of nowhere the moment you two started dating and it’s unlike them to just go on a date with a stranger on a whim

So he’d at least be aware of your emotional turbulence, and knowing that, would still fall in love with your little idiosyncrasies and personal charms - doesn’t make any of this that much easier though

Expect awkwardness, rigidity, your captain fighting the urge to flee like a skittish leopard cub, but above all please know that Law’s trying their best that they love you because by god they wouldn’t be doing this for anyone else

It’s important to note that they’d never make fun of you for this, even as a light hearted “joke” - you’re a sensitive guy, more than most, and that’s just how it is - nothing else to say about it

As they mature into adulthood and your relationship with him becomes far more comfortable Law drops the unease, they’re a lot less clumsy with your emotions and learn to navigate them with care because that is what they feel in their heart of hearts for you, after all

Something got too scary during movie night? Cuddle up close dear, he’ll hold you through the rough bits and kiss your forehead until it’s over or accompany you in your room if it’s more than you can handle

Breaking a glass? It wasn’t your fault and it’s not the end of the world, accidents happen and even though Law isn’t keen on the idea of you getting cut on those shards, they do find the odd bits of clumsiness here and there to be endearing - c’mon, he’ll help you pick up the pieces

You saw a baby animal or even Bepo doing something too cute and you absolutely can’t help yourself from tearing up? Well, that’s... oh come here already, you can weep into their shoulder but just don’t get snot on him, alright?

Zoro

Zoro is and can be a lot of things - pigheaded and woefully directionless at the worst and best of times

But he’s not stupid, at least not when it matters

He’s blunt and tactless, definitely, but Zoro’s somehow just had an inkling for sniffing out people’s inner feelings much like his captain

Not immediately, no, it does take some time; but once he feels that there’s something amiss, he comes right out with it

Zoro would get the feeling you were hiding something - your vulnerability, that was never really a secret when you joined the crew but as you took a growing interest in and once you were with him tried to diminish because you were afraid he’d think less of you for it - and after a day or two he’d ask

You’d try to divert from the topic, weasel your way out of talking about this before your tear ducts betrayed you, but soon your face would bear streaks and now Zoro really needed to know what was going on

He’d wait patiently as you explained yourself, bearing no judgement or even mild annoyance the more coherent your words became as you calmed down, furiously wiping your eyes and still avoiding his gaze, though

After you finished, he’d hold your shoulders gently, trailing his fingers up your arms in a wordless show of asking for the permission that you grant him easily, always

Zoro would be a little irked deep down, that this was the kind of man your (unconscious) mind thought him as, the kind of person that would turn his partner away just from a show of human emotion and some saltwater

For all his shows of machismo and overt masculinity, Zoro would never. Ever, question your manhood for crying. Sadness, joy, fear, and anger are all your feelings and you have full right to feel them. So what if your feelings move you intensely enough to tease?

Is it not masculine in and of itself to know one’s own heart and express it however he please? It’s more than most men he’s seen and Zoro’s more than happy to cut down anyone who has a problem with that.

Bepo

Two peas in a pod, you and Bepo, none on the ship are more alike than their resident youngest sweethearts

You’d both cry over anything and everything if possible - it goes without saying that Bepo would never judge you for being emotional either, and even on the very unlikely change that the sweetest, kindest bear you knew did harbor those feelings for what ever reason, well... glass houses and all

Cuddles are abundant between you, at first it’s to comfort after a lousy day, then it’s over crummy interactions, and eventually you just want an excuse to hold each other

You tear up at someone raising their voice at you but strangely feel an immediate heat in your chest when someone does the same or is just plain mean to Bepo, your soft-spoken, loving (not so) little Bepo

You try and stand up for him only to shrink and cling to your boyfriend when the offending party turns to glare at you so Pen, Shach, and/or Ikkaku have to step in, but the sentiment is greatly appreciated nonetheless

Bepo would simultaneously praise you for your bravery and downplay the need for protecting him, he is a big strong bear after all, and you’d tut - patting his nose to watch it scrunch up as you tell him that those people had no right to be talking that cruelly to him, so of course you have to defend your darling boyfriend

Bepo would blush and try to hide his big ol’ snout in the crook of your neck, rolling you both over onto the bed and sparking a fit of laughter in the process until your captain thwacks the wall dividing your room and their office with the end of a broom handle in a clear gesture to keep it down

Bepo won’t admit it, but he secretly finds you super cool when you defend him like that and it makes his heart do jumping jacks knowing you care for him like this; not that he doesn’t think you love him otherwise or won’t tell his boyfriend that he’s super cool for other reasons, it’s just this specific one

And Bepo gets his moment to shine one day when you’re on a walk with him one night, stars shining bright on this sleepy little town - a stray pup runs up to you and you can’t help but sob when the poor thing eats the food you buy it out of your palm, Bepo crouching alongside you but seemingly more frightened of the brave little puppy than it is of him because he doesn’t want to scare it away

While you smile and assure him that your new canine friend wasn’t going anywhere (no way Law was going to let a dog into the Tang, though), an older man stumbles out of the local tavern hurling insults about crybabies among other things as he staggers towards you

Before he can get within a meter of you, however, Bepo stands back and bellows the loudest roar you’ve ever heard come out of him, let alone sound

Although the two of you have to book it once the rest of the neighborhood wakes up with their pistols thinking it’s another snow beast attack, you’re laughing the entire way back to the ship and once Bepo stops covering his face in embarrassment, you’ll replace those lovely paws with your kisses

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nakachuchu · 8 months

Text

CHAPTER TEN: PRIDE

Golden Child series

SYNOPSIS: A cabin in the woods isn't enough to get away from Gojo.

READER: female

WORDS: 1k

WRITTEN: 09/01/2023

You asked Yaga to give you a leave of absence until further notice in order for you to do what you needed to do.

He was hesitant, especially when you wouldn't tell him what your plans were, but you were determined and adamant.

Those were two things he had never seen from you before, so he agreed. He knew the reason was because you had been spending too much time with Gojo.

Even though you weren't legally an adult, you traveled alone to a cabin in the woods that you rented for the time being.

You would need all the privacy you could get for what you were going to research.

Chiaki and Ayumi hadn't spoken to you about what happened. They pretended as if nothing happened, but you could tell that they were being held back from speaking.

They didn't appear as much before either. Ayumi usually threw a fit when she felt Gojo nearby, but she hadn't come out to insult him.

Opening the book in front of you, you prepared to slide the knife in your dominant hand across your other palm, when a cold hand grabbed your wrist.

"What are you doing?" Chiaki questioned as Ayumi silently pushed your palm down.

"I needed to get your attention," you said. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Drawing your blood on your own accord is something you must absolutely not do," he scolded.

"Does this have anything to do with Hell? I deserve to know, especially when you raised me for slaughter."

"We didn't know it would turn out like this," Ayumi whispered.

"You mean more to us than we ever thought you would," Chiaki added.

"Why?" you asked.

He shook his head softly. "We can't tell you until you're ready, but just know this, Ama: you've come farther than anyone else."

"You're not telling me what I want to know," you retorted.

"We can help you with whether you need. We are bonded to you, but we can't tell you what happened until the time comes," Ayumi said.

You hated how they refused to tell you anything. They had been with you for years and you considered them family.

"As long as you'll help me get stronger, I don't care. I will become the strongest person alive."

"Even with that blue-eyes freak alive?" Ayumi retorted.

"You're not killing him," you said, stern. "He's a friend."

Chiaki's lip twitched. "I see. What a shame."

You took a deep breath as Chiaki and Ayumi regarded you carefully. Despite their cryptic words, you knew they cared for you in their own way.

And you needed their help to grow stronger, even if they disapproved of your friendship with Gojo.

"Let's clear something up. I control you. Not the other way around," you said.

Chiaki and Ayumi nodded. They knew your fate. There was something bigger and better than everyone else. Ultimately, you were their master and the only thing keeping them alive.

Over the next few weeks, you trained relentlessly under Chiaki and Ayumi's guidance. While you knew they weren't only the manifestations of your rage, they knew a great deal of the Jujutsu world. You were sure it simply came with their birth and creation.

They taught you advanced jujutsu techniques and pushed your cursed energy to new heights.

Your power grew exponentially as you learned to better harness your mysterious abilities.

You started to take ice baths because of how sore you were each night. There were no breaks for you.

You wanted to say you despised Chiaki and Ayumi, but you knew they were doing what you ordered them to do.

One night, after your shower, you sat on your bed and meditated in the cabin. Your hair was wet and droplets of water dripped rhythmically onto your knees.

Every now and then, when you meditated, you could see glimpses of something. There was never enough for you to piece it together though.

Instead of a glimpse tonight, you were interrupted by a familiar presence approaching. You got up from your bed and opened the cabin door before he could knock.

He had the same smug grin on his face, as he did months ago. You definitely did not miss it.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

He pouted for a moment before grinning again. "I'm going to be busy on a top-secret mission. Just thought I'd tell you in case you missed me."

"I won't."

"That's so hurtful," he said.

Gojo leaned against the door frame, his grin unfaltering. "Come on, you know you'll miss me at least a little bit while I'm gone."

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest at his words. "I highly doubt it. I'll probably get more training done without you barging in and distracting me all the time."

"Distracting you, huh?" Gojo raised an eyebrow. "So you do find me distracting."

You were stunned, blinking rapidly as you stuttered, "N-No!"

Gojo chuckled, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you.

A comfortable silence fell between you both.

"Just be careful on your mission, okay?" you finally said, unable to meet his intense blue gaze.

Gojo's expression softened. "I will. Don't worry about me too much. I can handle myself."

You nodded, knowing he was right. Gojo was probably the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer there was. Still, you couldn't shake the strange feeling in your chest.

"I should get going. Don't slack off on your training just because I'm not here to motivate you," Gojo said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes again but couldn't help a small smile. "Yeah, yeah. Goodbye, Gojo."

He turned to leave, but paused for a moment. You were getting a bit worried at how long it was taking him to leave, when he turned around again.

"You have my permission to call me by my first name now," he said, haughty.

Your eye twitched. "Leave."

"This is an honor! You should be thankful," he retorted.

"I'm going to sleep," you said as you began to close your door.

You could hear his cackles as you locked the door. You stood there for a moment before sighing loudly and walking to the window. You opened the window and stuck part of your body out.

"Don't die yet, Satoru."

He froze in shock before grinning. "Yet?"

"I don't get to die without your permission, remember?"

He laughed. "That's right. You're learning."

He began walking away, waving to you from behind. You watched him go, your heart pounding against your ribs. You didn't know what you were feeling, but you knew you definitely missed his smile.

TAGLIST: @sleepydang @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @the-fab-killjoy

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader

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lqfiles · 2 years

Text

— nct dream as love languages .

[ ! ] none as far as i can think of?

nct dream x reader , genre — fluff!

a.n ; my first piece of writing of this blog, this was fun to make lol. hope you guys enjoyed it!

— MARK ( 이마크. ) quality time

• mark is a busy guy. being in two active groups that requires his attention all the time, he isn’t one to have much time for himself or others. but i feel like if mark really liked you, whether it be romantic or as a friend, he’ll definitely makes time free just to spend that time with you. i can imagine him finally having a small break throughout the week, and instead of using it to invest in personal hobbies, he calls you up and asks if you’re up to hang out with him and do something. such as going out to eat or visit a local arcade. if mark likes you, he’d love to have you around, because your mere presence brings him enough energy to forget about his busy week.

— RENJUN ( 황런쥔. ) gifting gifts

• i’m sure everyone knows how much renjun likes to draw and art itself, so i don’t think the thought of him making you small drawings is far off. he likes crafting too so he’s definitely the type to make little gifts. those gifts could range from bracelets he made over the week and personalised for you, with your favourite colours and things that remind him of you. or other gifts such a small sketch he made of you while you were too distracted, he would hand it to you saying he ‘thought you looked very nice in this angle’, making you flustered without even intending to do so. he definitely likes creating gifts rather than spending money on gifts because to him, it carries more meaning. if renjun likes you he’d love to surprise you with self made gifts that he took about an hour to make.

— JENO ( 이제노. ) physical touch

• though jeno doesn’t seem like the type to be into physical touch, he still likes to have you near him and wants to be near you too. he’d be the type to always wrap an arm around your shoulder if you’re walking around or have his hands on your shoulder as he walks behind you and guides you. he might even consider linking your arms together as you walk around. he also uses it as a way to protect you, when the two of you are outside, he’ll keep a protective arm around you as you make your way through the busy streets. he also likes the warmth he gets from it so winter is spend with him being super close to you while he complains about the cold weather. with physical touch, jeno likes to show you that he is always close and won’t have to worry.

— HAECHAN ( 이해찬. ) physical touch

• i don’t think it’s a surprise. haechan is a touchy person in general and it shows how much he cherishes one person. whether it be subtle small gestures such as gently touching you whenever you have conversations, or big gestures as clinging onto you when he sees you. he’s definitely the type to give welcome and goodbye hugs or hold hands to drag you with him because he saw something that he wanted to share with you. if comfortable with it, he wouldn't be against the idea of giving platonic kisses on each others cheeks every now and then because to him it just shows how close and strong your friendship is to have reached such a point. he also loves holding hands and the warmth he gets from it. it also makes him feel more connected with you. haechan just likes to show his love for others by keeping them close and smothering them with hugs.

— JAEMIN ( 나재민. ) acts of service

• though jaemin is also a touchy person, he wouldn’t be as touchy like haechan or want to be near every minute like jeno. instead jaemin likes to show his love and appreciation through caring acts. that could be making you food while you’re busy studying for an exam, or bringing extra food in case you’d forget yours, giving you the answers to homework the both of you had, or finish the list of groceries you didn’t get to finish. his way is the silent but very much present type of affection and it's pretty easy to spot who he has a bias against since he puts more effort into the actions he does for the ones he adores. these ways, jaemin likes to let you know that he appreciates you for sticking with him. through acts of services, jaemin show that he truly cares about you and likes to get rid of the burdens bothering you.

— CHENLE ( 종천러. ) words of affirmation

• chenle isn’t one to openly display PDA, he also isn’t one who needs to be with you all the time to feel loved. however, he likes to let you know he appreciates you and cares about by letting you know about his whereabouts. he’ll text randomly at 2 am in the morning telling you that he just won a match in a game and wanted to tell you first since it meant a lot to him. or he’ll ask you what you’re doing, and annoy for the next 30 minutes until you ask him to stop, which he does, reluctantly. when he notices you had a bad day, he'll come up to you when no one is looking and tell you there truly is nothing to worry about and how great you did in his eyes. he loves to encourage you whenever you doubt yourself, and he’s the best hype man for whenever you feel like life is going bad. chenle loves to assure you that he thinks about you with his affirming words, even if those words don’t directly say it.

— JISUNG ( 박지성. ) quality time

• jisung seems like someone who’d be just fine on his own idk. the type that doesn’t need people to be with him all the time to be entertained, so for him to want to reach out to you first and ask to hang out says a lot. he’d want to see you at the most random moments, coming up with any excuse that sounds reasonable enough so he won’t look like an obsessed person. through quality time jisung is able to show you that he really does appreciate you in his life by spending his greatest moments with you. he’d use the quality time spent to make sure the both of you leave with the thought that it was an enjoyable time spend together. through quality time jisung shows that he cares enough to want you around all the time

thank you for reading!

#nct #nct dream #nct reaction #nct dream reactions #nct headcanons #nct dream headcanons #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 19 days

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Something I wrote yesterday for a chronic pain werewolf Merlin fic sitting in one of my doom folders

(I’ve been through and checked spellings a bit but please don’t be too harsh.)

—

Arthur hadn’t said anything yet, he realised.

“You’ve been through so much,” the prince murmured, astonished. His voice sounded so soft and genuine and reassuring. Merlin had heard that same voice when he spoke to people in the aftermath of attacks. “I promise you, I’m going to do everything to make sure you never have to deal with anything like that again.”

Merlin shook his head again, “You can’t promise that. I’m a werewolf in Camelot.”

“It won’t be like this forever,” Arthur tells him and Merlin hangs onto it like a prayer. A breath of destiny and hope for the future where tomorrow won’t taste of dread and ash from pyres.

Merlin doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to it, so instead he turns his hand over and holds onto Arthur. The promise seems so tangible here, in his room after the most terrifying morning he’d ever experienced, second only to waking up after being bitten or waiting to transform the first time after.

“Why did you come to Camelot?” Arthur asked quietly.

Merlin huffed, “Will.” His eyes stung. For all he loved his friend, Will had almost gotten him killed so many times. “He got drunk while he was visiting the capital to petition Cenred to help our supplies over winter, Cenred told him no and he said his angry werewolf friend would rip them all to pieces for being complicit in tyranny. A week later, we had knights searching the village. It was either finding myself on a pyre for sure or taking my chances. So I took my chances.”

“But why Camelot of all places?” Arthur asked, his hands were still cradling Merlin’s, thumbs tracing the callous scars Merlin had collected over his lifetime.

Merlin shrugged, “I kept getting hurt. Badly. Then I woke up with this,” he drew one of his hands back and traced a scar on his neck, jagged lines and raised pale silvery skin, usually covered by his neckerchief. Arthur’s eyes followed the movement, then tore away to look at Merlin’s face. “I thought I was dead for sure, I managed to find a patch of yarrow to slow the bleeding and I tore my shirt for bandages, then healed what I could remember, but it wasn’t safe anymore. She sent me to Camelot because Gaius already knew, she hoped he could teach me how to be a physician and take care of me until I figured it out myself. I can set bones and dislocations, stop bleeding, stitch wounds, I’m learning, but it’s… still scary.” He confessed, stomach twisting.

He felt a bitter sense of grief creep up on him. The life he could’ve had if he wasn’t a monster.

“I’ll take care of you, too.” Arthur whispered like a vow, breaking Merlin free of a spiral before he’d even taken the first step. “I know sorry won’t make anything better so I won’t say that,” his hand lifted and traced the scar at Merlin’s neck, then Arthur tenderly cupped his jaw, thumb rubbing over what felt like a faint bruise on his cheekbone. Their eyes met, and it felt like sparks attempting to fly between them. Arthur shook his head, looking away and taking a breath, then said “I was never good at words, but I’m going to prove that things can be better. And hopefully by then, I’ll have found the right words to tell you you’re too important to me to ever lose you to this. Hopefully by then I’ll be able to tell you that as long as I draw breath, you’re never going to go through anything alone. And if I haven’t found the words, then I’ll prove it in my actions.”

Arthur was looking at him again, holding his hands and cupping his cheek, eyes looking deep into Merlin’s soul like he could uncover every detail or insecurity or fear and detach it from the tentative thing he hesitantly labelled hope. Merlin leaned forward, closing his eyes against the hot tears behind his eyes and pressed his forehead to Arthur’s, breathing him in.

Arthur’s hand never came away from his face, gently caressing the bruised skin. Merlin’s back was red hot under the uncomfortable fabric of his oldest and softest tunic. Leaning forward as he was did him no favours, but he refused to pull away. Refused to lose this because of the wolf like so many other parts of his life.

—

I hate that the first four chapters of this are crap cos this bit could actually be halfway decent with a few edits.

Anyway

#bbc merlin #merlin #fanfic #unfinished #merlin fanfic #merlin emrys #merthur #arthur pendragon #hurt merlin #werewolf merlin #hurt/comfort #soft arthur pendragon #i still can’t write without it getting angsty apparently #light angst #merlin bbc #i’m bad at tagging #fic writer #i need sleep

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florencemtrash · 9 months

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The Wisp Between Worlds

CHAPTER THREE: OVER THE WALL

Acotar fanfic/rewrite. Inner Circle x OC. Eventual Azriel x OC.

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Warnings: None for this chapter

Masterlist

*Let me know if you would like to join the taglist*

________________

Dinah made good money that day, haggling at the market to sell the deer meat for a higher price than it was worth. They’d even cooked a few cuts for dinner in the fire, filling the house with the heady scent of meat that lasted long after they’d finished tearing into the food with reckless abandon. After nearly a week of surviving on stale bread, tea, and water it felt like they were doing something wrong. But after leaning back in her chair, stomach full and comfortably stretching the waistband of her pants, Nora wondered if it was the guilt eating away at her instead. If she was right about this, about everything, then she’d just killed a faerie today and the High Lord of the Spring Court would be coming for her.

Nora crawled into bed, bones weary and begging for rest. But her mind would not let her forget the glint of the steel tipped ashwood arrow sticking out of the beautiful wolf’s skull. Dinah and Jaskiel whispered to one another from their shared bed across the room. During the winter months they needed to crowd into the living room by the fire to escape the cold that seeped in through the floor and walls. Sleeping on opposite ends of the room was as much privacy as any of them would get. The beds themselves were little more than sheets stuffed with hay and scraps of wool from Dinah’s mending projects and just barely kept you from freezing on the ground.

Before Nora had met them, and before Jaskiel had fallen ill, him and Dinah had lived comfortable lives in this little cottage. Jaskiel was once a small-time merchant and craftsperson, making frequent travels to the Continent to trade his wooden trinkets for spices and silks to sell to nearby villages. Dinah stayed home, tending to the house and the now dead garden of roses in the backyard. Whatever comforts Jaskiel had brought back for Dinah had long since been sold to the highest bidder. The only pieces left from that previous life were the books tucked away in the corner shelf of the living room, swollen and yellowed from the many times they’d all run their fingers through the pages, and Dinah’s wedding ring.

“It was the first thing I bought on the Continent.” Jaskiel told her, smiling at the strange girl who sat on the floor by his feet, bright eyes staring at him with curiosity. After a bath and a dinner of boiled katniss she was looking better, less like a frightened bird with its wings clipped.

“My first successful trip, and certainly not my last! And I knew the first thing I needed to do when I came home was marry Dinah.” She smiled from her seat next to him, abandoning her sewing project for a moment to rub his knee. She was thinner now than when they’d gotten married, gray hair sprouting from her temples and framing the crows feet that grew from her eyes whenever she was happy. Her hands were stronger too, more calloused and accustomed to hard work after Jaskiel had gotten sick. By pure force of will she’d carried the two of them through life since then and she vowed to continue doing so.

Perhaps it was because they’d known a kinder life that they took Nora in, patiently allowing her to learn the skill of survival.

I don’t want to leave. Nora thought tearfully, praying to whatever gods existed in this world that she wouldn’t be swept away in the night. She’d dreamed of Prythian every day, dreamed of being able to go home. Part of her still wanted that, the other part simply wanted to make peace with the life she knew now. No more change, no more being taken to new places and forced to learn everything all over again.

Her prayer was not answered.

Dinah and Jaskiel had been asleep for hours now, unaware of the doom that had slipped through the wall and was now lurking outside their home. Nora lay awake, holding a knife close to her chest and continuing to murmur her pleas and prayers.

The front door blew open, shattering into a million pieces and raining down over their heads with sharp stabs. Nora immediately jumped to her feet, throwing her blanket around her to protect from the wood that continued to strike her as the creature clawed at the ruined door frame.

Dinah was screaming. Jaskiel shouted Nora’s name as he threw his body over his wife, grabbing his cane. His lame legs cried out in protest when he tried to stand, brandishing the glorified stick as a weapon.

Nora sprained across the room, heart pounding and vision a blur as she barely dodged the next spray of wood that came crashing down.

The beast had ripped the walls and part of the ceiling into ribbons with one angry swipe of his claws.

Well that was fucking rude. Nora thought, trying to quell the shaking of her hands as she stepped in front of Jaskiel and Dinah, holding her knife out towards the beast as he finally made his way into the room.

Every step shook the ground more powerfully than an earthquake. The little moonlight spilling through the cracks in the ceiling were snuffed out by his enormous frame. Standing taller than a fully grown man was a creature with the body of a bear, head of a wolf, and horns extending so far out from his skull it was a miracle they didn’t catch on the wooden beams. Pure muscle rippled underneath fur that glowed with a golden light, illuminating the mouth of jet black teeth that were bared as he roared, “MURDERERS!”

Nora cringed, clapping a hand over her ear. Don’t drop the knife. Don’t you dare drop the knife.

“MURDERERS!” he screamed again. The foundations of the house shook with his power. Dinah’s screams died into quiet whimpers. Jaskiel crumpled to the ground, legs folding like paper beneath his rickety frame.

“WHO KILLED HIM?!”

The house remained silent. Only Dinah’s choked sobs punctured the stillness of the night. Nora tried not to faint, her mind fracturing into a million pieces as she tried to think of what to do next.

Do I tell him I killed the faerie? Do I tell him I killed Andras? Was that even the faerie’s name? But he hasn’t told me who I killed. I know who I killed. Am I supposed to know who I killed? Am I supposed to know I killed a faerie at all? What will happen to Dinah and Jaskiel?

Infuriated by the silence he lifted one arm, slamming his paw into the ground so hard that it broke through the wooden floors. Nora could feel the heat of his breath as he drew near, shoving his face right up against hers. “WHO KILLED HIM?!”

Nora refused to falter, irritation slowly beginning to overtake her fear.

His breath smells like roses. How ridiculous.

“We didn’t kill anyone!” Dinah sobbed, clutching her husband's shaking arm. The beast took one step backward and Nora let out a breath of relief. They were still alive. Dinah must have caught onto that string of hope because she began to regain her composure. Her blubbering might do nothing more than enrage the beast enough to slaughter them all.

“Please we didn’t-” Jaskiel’s feeble words were cut off by a growl. The beast’s eyes were still fixated on Nora, filled with even more fury for the fact that she remained standing - standing with a weapon brandished in her hand. The gall of the girl. He ripped it out of her hand as easily as one swatted a fly. Nora was too shocked to register the pain in her forearm as she stumbled backward, blood dripping down her hand and landing with a rhythmic thump thump thump onto the floor.

If he regretted hurting her he didn’t show it. As if to make a further point that he could kill them all in an instant, he whirled around towards the dining table. It exploded without so much as a whisper from him, taking out a chunk of the wall in the process.

His horns threw shadows against what remained, twisting and turning like a pair of skeletal hands. Jade green eyes glared out, filled with fury and some small seed of grief. “Who killed him?”

“We didn’t kill anyone.” Nora said. Her pain made her angry.

“LIAR! THE WOLF! Who killed the wolf?”

Jaskiel and Dinah shared a look. Nora hadn’t said anything about a wolf.

“I did.” The young girl didn’t flinch, although her throat tightened from the admission like someone had a hand around her neck. “I killed a wolf. This morning in the woods.”

“Hush, child.” Dinah hissed. She tore a strip of fabric from her dress and tried to stem the flow of blood from Nora’s arm.

“And did you know?” The High Lord growled out, barely concealing the threat of death in his voice, “Did you know he was faerie?”

The color drained from Nora’s face.

This is it. Two choices: lie and say you didn’t know and maybe he’ll let you live. Or… tell the truth. Tell him you knew the wolf was a faerie. Tell him you killed him out of hatred. Go to Prythian… try and get home.

The beast caught the flicker of recognition in Nora’s eyes, caught the narrowing of her inky black eyes in a look of hatred.

“You did know.” he seethed. He pulled away from her, disgust in his eyes at the feeble human girl before him. This was the girl who’d killed Andras. Some pathetic little human had slaughtered his trusted friend. “Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy it when you slaughtered my friend.” He prowled about the room, never taking his eyes off the three of them still huddled in the corner by the cinders.

“Better him than me.” Nora held her head up, glaring at him.

“No.” Jaskiel breathed out, grabbing at her uninjured hand. “Please,” he begged the beast, “She’s my daughter. She’s young. She didn’t know any better. She was afraid.”

“Is that true?” the beast hissed, baring his fangs, “Did he attack you?”

She squared her shoulders. “No.”

“So you slaughtered him. Unprovoked. You murdered him.”

Nora barked out a laugh, “And how many humans have you murdered? How many will you continue to murder? How many homes will you break into? How many lives will you threaten?” her voice was filled with venom as she spit out the words, “I hope your friend is suffering right now in the afterlife. I wasn’t certain at the time, but now that I know he’s faerie I don’t regret it at all. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

She ignored his deep growl and dealt a final blow, “It was a quicker death than he deserved.”

With a roar he brought his claw down on the bookshelf next to him, shattering it completely. The beloved tomes tumbled onto the floor, half shredded and dusty from their fall.

If you were really going to kill me, you would’ve done it by now.

The fear of a painful death with Tamlin sinking his teeth into her throat and thrashing her around had made Nora forget one key fact: she knew this story. She knew about the curse that hung over his head - that hung over Prythian - and like it or not, he needed her.

The realization gave her power. She stood up again, ignoring Dinah’s desperate hands as she tried to force her daughter to kneel again, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want justice for what you did. I want you to pay.”

“We’ll pay the cost.” Dinah said frantically, “Name your price.”

Nora’s heart broke. Please don’t.

They had no money to spare. Dinah worked hard enough as it was, coming home every night with bleeding and cracked hands, and Jaskiel could do little more than beg for scraps of work. The wealthy in the village would offer them no respite, no mercy. They were too comfortable behind their iron gates and towering walls. Nora didn’t want to see Dinah beg too.

“And what is the price you’d lay on your daughter’s head?” the beast asked, stepping off the ruined shelf. Dinah stilled. “Whatever pathetic sum you offer won’t be enough. Andras was worth more than one-hundred of you.”

“Then what would be enough?” Tell us and be done with it already. “What do you want?”

“A life for a life. That’s what I want.”

“I’ll pay it.” Jaskiel said, voice even and strong. Dinah swore at him as he struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane.

“What the hell are you doing, Jaskiel?” Nora hissed, turning around and stepping directly between him and Tamlin.

His kind face, weathered and leathery after decades of sea travel, softened when Nora’s face blocked the terrifying beast. She knew he liked her. He’d treated her with the love and kindness he would have shown his own daughter if he and Dinah had ever been blessed in that way. But the fact remained that Nora wasn’t theirs. She owed them a debt that could never be repaid and she wouldn’t forgive herself if anything happened to them.

“I’ll pay the price.” He said again, stepping to the side. Nora stepped with him, refusing to let Tamlin get close to Jaskiel.

“No he won’t.” Nora commanded, swinging back to Tamlin. The beast’s eyes flickered for a brief moment with something like surprise.

“As touching as the offer is,” he drawled, “I want the actual murderer.”

“Take me outside then. Don’t do it here.”

Again, that flicker of surprise, “You dare ask for such a thing?” He scoffed, eyes narrowing.

“I wasn’t asking. You already ruined half the house and left a hole in the floor, you don’t need to fill it with blood either.” Nora spit out.

He snarled, “For having the gall to ask me for such a thing, I’ll clarify something: I want your life. Prythian wants a life for the one you stole. So either you come with me across the wall to live out the rest of your days, or I take you outside and tear you to pieces as you so kindly told me to do.” His lips pulled back in a threatening smile.

“So either you kill me here and now, or some other beast over the wall kills me in a few days time. Tell me, Beast, which would be quicker?”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. There was something in the way he moved, cat-like and predatory. Doubt flickered within her. What if I’m wrong? What if he kills me?

“I have lands,” Tamlin said carefully after some consideration, “So long as you don’t leave those lands you will be safe.”

“And what about Dinah and Jaskiel?” His eyes flickered over to the pair. Dinah’s eyes were trained on him, fear and fury simmering under the surface of her now composed face.

“What about them?”

“They’ll die without me. You only asked for one life. What fairness in ‘a life for a life’ is there if my absence leads to their deaths.”

Dinah and Jaskiel both tugged harshly at the back of her sleep shirt, begging her to control her boldness.

If a wolf could frown, it would look like the annoyance that crossed Tamlin’s face. “They’ll be taken care of.”

Nora’s breath caught in her throat. Did he mean it? He must mean it. I’ll give him hell if he doesn’t help them.

“You swear it?”

Tamlin’s eyes passed through each of them in turn. Nora, the girl’s name was. He tested the name out in his mind finding it agreeable enough. And he had to admit, some small piece of him was impressed - if not annoyed - by her boldness. The couple would surely die without her, already their frames were too thin and delicate to support their aging souls.

“I swear it.” He said, and found it a very easy promise to make, “But, you must promise to never leave Prythian. The moment you step foot back in the Human Lands, the deal is off, and I can’t promise what will become of your precious little family.”

“Take the offer.” Dinah said, turning Nora around and grasping her too-thin face. Tears welled up in her amber eyes and Nora did all she could to stop the rising emotions in her chest. “Take the offer. You’re a survivor, child. You’ll make it. You’ll make something of yourself.”

Jaskiel said nothing, face falling and aging twenty years in a few mere seconds.

“When does she leave?” Dinah said with a sniffle, wiping her tears away and taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Now.”

“Now?!” Nora wanted more time with them. She wanted one more night.

“Now.” The decision was not up for discussion.

Dinah grabbed Nora’s shoulders, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t worry about us,” she whispered, burying her face into Nora’s dark hair, “Just worry about taking care of yourself, alright? You know how.” She kissed Nora’s cheeks, wiping her hands on her nightdress as Jaskiel took his turn.

Nora braced her legs, feeling the weight of Jaskiel in her arms as he held her close. His legs may have been weak and broken, but his arms were strong. He brushed the hair back from her face with a calloused hand, stormy gray eyes expressing all he could not say. Goodbye. You will always be a daughter to me. Until we meet again.

Dinah grabbed her thickest cloak from the back of Jaskiel’s chair and threw it over Nora’s shoulders. Somehow the most important piece of furniture had managed to survive Tamlin’s rage. Final whispers of encouragement escaped Dinah’s lips before the beast snapped at them to leave, maneuvering through the wreckage he’d created with grace and power.

Nora could do nothing but allow her hand to slip through Dinah’s and quietly trail after the beast.

He led her to a beautiful mare that had been waiting obediently for them by the treeline. Her coat was as silky and pristine as a polished pearl. Nora hesitated. She’d never ridden a horse before, but Tamlin was in no mood to wait any longer. He grabbed her roughly by the waist with one paw and dumped her unceremoniously onto the mare’s back.

Asshole. She glared at the back of his horns as he led them into the night.

When Nora looked behind her she found Dinah and Jaskiel standing together in the gaping hole of their now ruined house. She didn’t stop looking until the woods closed around her and her home disappeared from sight.

>>>

They traveled for hours through the woods, the sun slowly sliding into place over the horizon and transforming the frost-bitten forest into the world’s largest chandelier. The constant rocking of the pearl-coated horse beneath her made Nora’s stomach turn and her thighs ached from the effort of staying upright. Tamlin’s utter silence didn’t make matters any better as he traced some secret path through the woods. Over time the rhythmic crunch of snow breaking beneath the mare’s hooves began to drive Nora to insanity.

You’re supposed to be getting me to fall in love with you, you know? Fucking idiot.

The more and more Nora thought about the events from last night, the more irate she grew. He’d crashed into her house in the middle of the night in his beast form, scared them nearly to death, demanded Nora leave her home, and now wasn’t even putting in the effort to speak to her. It was deathly silent in these woods, as if even the squirrels and birds knew that royalty walked among them.

Nora huffed. Tamlin continued to walk unbothered.

“You didn’t need to break into my house like that.” She said pointedly, breaking the silence.

Tamlin’s left ear twitched. “What did you say?”

Nora rolled her eyes. With his fae senses there was no way he hadn’t heard her.

“I said you didn’t need to break into my house like that.”

He ignored her, which only fueled her desire to speak her mind out loud.

“You could have stolen me away in the night without bothering them. You could have waited until daylight when we weren’t sleeping.”

“You’re upset because my timing wasn’t convenient enough for you?”

Nora frowned. When he put it that way her words sounded quite childish. “What I’m saying is that you barged into my home with more pomp and circumstance and-and drama than you needed to.”

“You killed my friend.”

Nora stilled. She wanted to apologize for it. As much as she didn’t like Tamlin she regretted what she did. Part of the reason she hadn’t been able to fall asleep the night before was because she kept seeing the light leave Andras’s eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from hearing the pitiful whine that had escaped his throat as he finally stilled. She’d dared to touch his body to close his eyes. But as quickly as she’d laid her hands on him she’d reeled back. In the time it had taken her to gut the deer and bind it to the sled, his body had turned cold and rigid.

“You threatened to kill my family.” She said lamely.

“And yet they’re still alive, aren’t they?” “How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t just send someone else to kill them after we’re beyond the wall?” “I promised you they would be taken care of. I keep my promises. The question is whether you’ll keep yours.” His voice was gentler, more tired the further and further they got from Nora’s village. She thought his power would be tied to Prythian in some way - that he would gain strength as they neared the wall. Instead he was dragging his feet, limbs landing on the ground with heavier steps as they went along. She made note of every change in his body, storing the information away to mull over later.

“If it means they’re safe you can be sure I’ll keep true to my side of things.” She replied.

He’d been walking ahead of her the entire time, forcing the mare into a brisk pace that had Nora jolting in her seat, but after a few moments of cautious thinking he slowed down to walk beside her. Even while atop a horse, Tamlin stood taller than Nora, his horns dangling over her head like the swaying branches of a tree. She looked at them for a long while, tracing the grooves in the bone all the way down to where they connected to Tamlin’s skull. He stared at her the whole time.

“You don’t look like your parents.” Tamlin said carefully, catching her eye.

Nora snorted. With her dark hair and darker eyes and… well the rest of her, she was well aware that no piece of her looked like it came from Dinah or Jaskiel.

“They’re not my parents.”

She flung her arm out, grasping at Tamlin’s horn for support when the mare took a quick jump over a fallen log. Her thighs were burning now, holding onto the lean body beneath her like a lifeline.

“Sorry.” Nora muttered, jerking her hand back to her body and cradling it beneath the folds of her cloak. She flexed it uncomfortably.

She’d just touched the High Lord of the Spring Court.

Suppressing a shiver she instead focused her attention on the strip of fabric still wrapped expertly around her forearm, running her fingers over the material and ignoring where it dried stiff with blood. It reminded her painfully of Dinah. She would have to mend the rest of her nightgown now. Nora hoped she hadn’t stained it too badly with any blood.

“What happened to your real parents?” Again he asked the question carefully, like she was a flight risk he couldn’t afford to scare off… which she very much was.

“They’re alive… or dead… I don’t know.” A truth. “I was stolen from them too and brought here from the Continent to be sold by slavers.” A lie.

“But you escaped.” He almost sounded impressed.

“Obviously.”

And one day I’ll escape from you too.

The words hung unspoken between the two of them like a spider’s web between two branches, delicate and complex. They descended into silence once more.

“I’ll need to bind your eyes when we cross the wall.”

“What? Why?” Nora snapped her eyes to Tamlin and she forgot about the raven in the sky she’d been examining for the last twenty minutes.

“I cannot risk you seeing my lands.” His back tightened and he held his head up high.

“You said I would be safe in your lands.”

“You will be. That doesn’t mean I want you to see all of them.”

Because you don’t want me to know how to run away.

“Fine.”

A black silk sash appeared in Nora’s hands, cool as water and weightless as she obediently tied it tightly around her eyes. He must have enchanted the fabric because when she tugged at the knot she made it would not budge. She tested the blindfold but as much as she tried to pull it off it would not give. She huffed as she gave up, turning her head towards where she imagined Tamlin still was. He may be taller than a man and ten times heavier but his footsteps were imperceptible.

Blindness forced her to see with her ears, straining to identify every flutter of wings and rustle of snow falling onto the ground from a disturbed branch. She was just about to ask when they’d reach the wall when the world went still.

All the sounds of the forest she’d been analyzing died out. Magic rippled through the air, humid and all consuming as it reached out for her.

Her face paled. Suddenly she was back in the sea, screaming underwater as salt water filled her lungs and magic dragged her from her world to this one. Her reigns on the horse tightened, knuckles losing all their color.

“Take off your cloak.” Tamlin said tightly. “You won’t need it anymore.”

Nora only gripped the cloak tighter as though it would keep out the magic that threatened to consume her.

Tamlin said nothing, but he must have continued forward because despite Nora’s protests, the mare passed through the break in the wall.

They passed through like they were passing through a waterfall. Magic rushed over Nora’s body, slick and alien, but it was quickly replaced by the comfortable heat of spring. The heady scent of flowers filled her nose, clouding her mind with their fragrance. While the oppressing winter in the Mortal Lands had driven all but the scavenger birds into their homes, here they fluttered about seeking companions with whom to live out the eternal spring. The subtle morning sun blanketed Nora’s shoulders, heating her up beneath her clothes. Still she refused to give up the last piece of her home.

Tamlin let out a sigh of relief or despair - Nora couldn’t tell - as he felt his bond to Prythian grow once more. His magic would always run through his veins as intrinsically as blood - being in the Human Lands had done nothing to diminish that power - but he could not deny his connection to the magic that ran through Prythian, a magic that was beyond himself and to which he was only a borrower. These were the lands to which he would be tied until the end of his days.

“Welcome to the Spring Court, Nora.”

________________

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoyed! Apologies it ended up a lot longer than I was expecting... whoops 😅. I have a masterlist up and am also starting a taglist so if you want to be added just let me know!

Taglist: @myheartfollower @impossibelle

#acotar #acotar rewrite #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #the spring court #acotar spring court #inner circle #inner circle x oc #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger x oc #azriel shadowsinger #found family #writeblr #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel x reader #tamlin #tamlin the tool #shadowsinger

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