#last minute wedding new york
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Rating: G
tags: post-breakup, angst, hurt, wedding, happy ending
prompt: Love is what makes you brave (@sidekick-hero)
For @steddielovemonth
AO3
Should he be here?
No.
Was he going to continue to be here for as long as he could take it?
Hell yeah.
Sitting behind the wheel of his stupid expensive car that would have stuck out anywhere else.
But not here.
Not amongst the BMW’s and Bentleys and limos and wedding cars.
It had been three years.
Three long and fucking lonely as shit years since he’d last seen Steve.
Three years of writing songs about him.
Three years of dodging interviewer questions about who the songs were about.
Three years of the fans creating some nebulous phantom person that all the songs must be about because they all fit together like puzzle pieces if looked at correctly.
Three years since Steve broke his heart.
Eddie wasn’t even really sure what had possessed him to be here right now.
He hadn’t been invited.
But some kind of insane impulse had grabbed him when he’d first gotten into the car fourteen hours ago and it hadn’t left him since.
He needed…
He didn’t know what he needed.
He didn’t know what he expected.
His passenger door opening and a figure sliding into the seat nearly scared the life out of him, so lost in thought and with eyes laser focused on the church doors, he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching.
He was forced to remember again that he was no longer some nobody living in bumfuck nowhere Indiana, he was a somebody, with a fucking penthouse apartment in New York City and an extremely recogniseable look.
Maybe he should have locked the doors.
And maybe he should have dressed down a little before he jumped in the car. Gotten rid of some of the jewellery, covered up the tattoos, tied his hair back, not worn the kind of clothes that always got him noticed in Hawkins in the wrong way. He was more noticeable now more than he ever had been.
He was the most successful person to ever make it out of this shithole town and the town itself loved to pretend they always encouraged him.
They advertised it proudly.
Like they hadn’t tried to drown his passions at every opportunity.
But it wasn’t some crazed obsessive fan now staring at him from his passenger seat, dressed in a pair of black slacks and an overly frilly lavender blouse, probably a compromise so she didn’t have to be stuffed into a dress.
Eddie tensed his hands around the wheel while Robin continued to stare at him like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, bewildered more than anything. He supposed that was fair.
There was no reason for him to be here after all.
He’d gotten no hint from Steve that this wasn’t what he wanted, none of the kids had said as much either but…
It just didn’t feel right.
It felt like Steve was falling back into a pattern.
Living the life that had been mapped out for him by society.
Go to school.
Get a good job.
Get married to a nice girl.
Eddie didn’t even know if the person that would be meeting Steve at the end of the aisle in about fifteen minutes was a nice girl.
He didn’t know anything about her at all.
Didn’t know anything about Steve either.
All he knew were the little tidbits the kids would occasionally drop by accident when they would forget they weren’t all one tightly knit group anymore.
Not since Steve shoved him out the door and told him that it wouldn’t work, it could never work.
Eddie suspected Steve had been looking at shadows on a cave wall for so long he had no idea there was a whole world just outside. That they didn’t have to live their lives the way everyone else did.
But there was nothing for it, he couldn’t force Steve to take him back.
He’d told Eddie he didn’t want him anymore so…
Eddie went and got the life he’d dreamed of since he was a kid. He got the success and the accolades and he was being heard.
But it was empty. It had always been empty.
He had never been able to move on.
Not really.
And now… now he was here.
“Hey Buckley.” Eddie shot her a tight grin. “It’s been a while.”
And it had been. Because along with losing Steve, he’d also lost Robin.
It was understandable, really.
Robin was Steve’s ride or die and though he’d heard she’d raised holy hell, trying to figure out why Steve had thrown his happiness away, as she herself had said, she was still, first and foremost, Steve’s soulmate.
She would be by his side come hell or high water and though she wasn’t happy with his decision, there was also nothing she could do about it.
Steve was a grown man and he’d made his choice.
“What are you doing here, Eds?” She asked again with so much concern, it was like she was worried Eddie was ripping out his own heart over again just by being here.
Maybe he was.
But he was here now.
He couldn’t leave until it was all over.
“Is he happy?” Eddie asked, rather than answer her question. They both knew why he was there anyway. “Is he happy with Miss… Whatever Her Name Is?”
Robin looked at him for a long time, eyes darting all over his face, chewing on her lip.
She took a big breath in.
“He’s… content, I think. They both are. I think they’ve both… made themselves content with the situation.”
“Right.” Eddie nodded, tearing his gaze away and staring down at his hands.
He could feel Robin’s eyes boring into the side of his head.
“But not happy.” She said into the silence. “He’s not- I’ve never seen him as happy as he was when he was with you.”
Eddie tightened his jaw, tried to blink away the wetness in his eyes.
“Then why did he end it?”
“I think he was scared.” She almost whispered. “I think he didn’t know what to do with it all. There was no rule book to follow.”
“But that’s the best part, Rob.” Eddie sighed out. “There’s no rules for how we’re supposed to live our lives.”
He didn’t turn back to look at her, but he could see her nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.
“I think he’s started to realise that too, recently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you here?” She asked again, no longer willing to put up with his avoidance.
“I don’t know.” He said, mostly honestly. “One last big romantic gesture?”
Robin sighed, a hand on the handle. “Okay, wait here.”
“Hadn’t planned on going anywhere.” He muttered but it was drowned out as she slammed the car door, speed walking her way back to the church where a crowd had begun to gather at the door.
He tried not to let anything like hope bloom in him, he tried to keep any kind of bubble build up and puff him out but it wasn’t that difficult.
Especially when Robin made her way back to the car only a few minutes later, looking far more stressed than she had before and notably, alone.
“So, slight bump in the big romantic gesture plans,” she said, opening the door again but not getting in. “They’re missing.”
“They? Who’s missing?”
“Rita apparently got a call at the hotel before she was supposed to come here and then just disappeared, leaving her engagement ring behind. And then Steve left sometime when we were talking-”
“Left to go where?”
“I don’t know, Edward.” Robin grit out, tensing her fingers around the roof lip but it was more worry than irritation.
“Okay.” Eddie said, shifting the car into gear. “Okay, get in, we’ll go-”
“No. I’m staying here, I need to keep his parents from calling in the National Guard to drag him back by the hair. You go. You know where he is, don’t you?”
Eddie stared at her, opening and closing his mouth until he could finally form his lips around the words “I think so.”
He knew so.
Or at least he hoped he did.
Robin gave him one sharp nod. “Okay.”
She slammed the door closed and turned back to the crowd.
Pulling out of the parking lot of the church, Eddie tried not to panic.
There wasn’t much distance that Steve could have gone but the idea of him going missing still had his heart constricting, full of what if, what if, what if?
It wasn’t very far, but finding somewhere to pull over at the edge of the forest where his car wouldn’t be suspicious wasn’t the easiest thing to do.
Though it was probably easier now than it had been years ago, since he no longer had the van and his shiny, sleek and expensive car would be glanced over for any bored cop looking to bust someone for drugs.
Not so much of an easy target now, huh Callahan?
He had just pulled his car into a clearing that was somewhat hidden when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.
He switched the engine off and was halfway out of the car when he froze, finally seeing the number on screen.
It was Steve. It had to be Steve.
He’d recognise that number anywhere, he knew it off by heart but Eddie had changed numbers at least twice in the last three years.
He hadn’t bothered to add Steve back into his contacts, what would be the point?
It would have just been a temptation on drunken lonely nights.
How the fuck did Steve even have his number?
Eddie tapped the answer button before the call could ring out.
His mouth was dry and his heart was in his throat as he raised the phone to his ear.
“Stevie?” He practically breathed, gripping the door so tight he was surprised he didn't dent the metal.
There was a sound from the other end, like a sigh, like relief or a release of tension.
“Eddie.” Steve said and his voice, different as it was through the phone, was the most painful and comforting thing Eddie thought he’d ever heard. It was followed quickly by a sniffle and a quiet, “Hi.”
Eddie had so many things he wanted to ask.
Why are you calling now?
Where are you?
Why did you run?
How do you even have this number?
Instead he just slammed the car door closed and asked softly “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
A sound came down the line, one that sounded suspiciously like a sob, followed by another sniffle.
“Can’t- can’t I just call to see how you are?”
Eddie didn’t answer as he started to tromp his way through the forest, half worried anything he said would just end up with him begging Steve to call him again and again and again.
But Steve seemed to take his silence as stony.
“Yeah, I-” Steve sniffed. “I guess I deserved that.”
Eddie could practically hear his lip wobbling through the phone and Steve broke down into sobs again.
“Where are you, Stevie?”
“The past.” He muttered out which was as good a confirmation as any that Eddie was heading in the right direction. “I’m- I… I’m sorry to call you right now and you’re out living your life-”
“Are you sober?”
Because it was high stakes at the moment but this was still a lot of emotion for noon.
“Unfortunately.” Steve sighed out and then quietly, so quietly Eddie could barely hear him. “I’m supposed to be getting married today.”
“So I heard.”
It sounded like the air had been punched out of Steve’s chest and the whine he let out after sounded like one of pure pain.
“I’m sorry.”
Eddie had to duck under a branch and as a result, nearly tripped over a root in the ground but managed to right himself.
“You’re sorry for supposed to be getting married?”
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. From- from someone else.”
He came to a stop.
“Oh.”
Not sorry I’m getting married.
Just sorry I’m not the one who told you I’m getting married.
Which, like, Steve didn’t need to apologise to him for getting married.
They weren’t together.
They weren’t a thing.
They didn’t even talk anymore.
Eddie had no right to that information.
Still.
Didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Eddie.” Steve whimpered out, kicking Eddie back into movement again. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Stevie, it’s fine.” He sighed, resigned to his fate now. “You can still go back-”
“No, no.” Steve took a large painful breath in. “You don’t understand. I fucked up. I left you. I made you go. How could I do that? Why did I do that? You were- you were the best thing that ever happened to me and I just-”
It sounded like Steve couldn’t speak anymore through hit tears, the raw anguish in his voice making it sound like he couldn’t breathe.
“I pushed you away. I pushed you away. I was so scared and I wanted- I wanted to take it back the second I did it. I wanted to but I couldn’t make myself do it and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry about that, baby. You have to believe me, I’m so sorry.”
The sound of Steve’s sobs were no longer just coming through the phone but were now starting to echo around him from just up ahead and Eddie kept walking.
“I was such a coward. There was no precedent. Nothing in my life was like what I had with you, I didn’t see it anywhere else and I didn’t know what to do. There was just this big vast emptiness in front of me where before there had always been a path, it had always been mapped out, telling me where to go next and I didn’t know what to do about it, I didn’t think it was possible to have-”
Steve cut himself off with another sob and Eddie could see him now, sitting on the dirty forest floor in his brand new designer tux, head bowed into his knees and his back against Skull Rock.
“I’ve made such a mistake, Eddie. I’ve never fucked up like I did with you and if I could take it all back I would. I’d be brave for you, I swear-”
Eddie dropped to his knees in front of him.
“Do you still want to be?”
Steve’s head snapped up so fast he cracked himself hard against the giant rock they used to come to all the time when they were full of young love.
Eddie winced in sympathy but didn’t reach out while Steve stared at him wide eyed, even through the pain.
He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Eddie.” He breathed out, completely disbelieving. “What- wh- what are you-”
“I was at the church.” Eddie said, sitting himself down fully and bringing his own knees up to his chest. “I was… I don’t know what I was doing there. I don’t know what I expected to happen.”
“You…” Steve blinked at him. His face was wet and blotchy and red, his eyes were raw and still swimming and he was still the most beautiful person Eddie had ever laid eyes on. And he was looking at Eddie like he was the most unbelievable thing in the world. “You were there the whole time?”
“Yeah.”
Steve’s hands were twitching around his knees, gripping into the fabric of his dress pants and Eddie could tell he wanted to reach out but he wasn’t sure he could handle that yet.
He needed to know.
He needed to be sure.
He didn’t think he’d survive it if he let hope back in only to have it pulled away again.
“What happened?”
Steve’s face scrunched up, like he was trying to push the tears back and he brought his hands up to his face, digging the heels into his eyes.
“I couldn’t… I couldn’t go through with it. Rita, she… she- she’s not you. I couldn’t let her live a life with me waiting for me to love her like I still love you because it’ll never happen. I could never love anyone like I still love you. And she… she’s the same, she didn’t want this, she never wanted this but it was what we’d been told to want for so long and… she couldn’t do it either. So we both- we both ran and I want… I want to be brave for you, baby.”
Eddie crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his lips into his skin, silent and thinking.
He couldn’t take it if Steve did what he did to him again.
He just couldn’t.
And why did it take Steve getting to this stage for him to decide on what he wanted?
Would it have still happened the same way if Eddie hadn’t come?
Would Steve have cried his heart out here in their spot until he was done talking to Eddie over the phone and gone about the rest of his life?
Would he have let the fear get to him again?
But could Eddie live with himself if he turned this chance down because of his own fear?
It wasn’t even a question.
He’d regret it for the rest of his life.
So he had to choose to be brave too.
He unwrapped his arms from around his knees and spread his legs wider, scooching forward until he had Steve’s curled up body cradled in his.
Steve all but stopped breathing with a dramatic hiccup when he felt Eddie’s legs against his own and when Eddie brought his hands up to encircle Steve’s wrists and pull them away from his face, his eyes were wide and disbelieving.
Eddie pulled Steve’s hands into his chest.
“I need to know you’re sure. I need to know you mean it, okay?”
“I do.” Steve nodded and his words were sure if a little breathy. “I do, Eddie. I promise you. I’ll show you every day. I’ll be brave for you I swear.”
“Because I won’t survive you doing what you did to me again. It nearly killed me the first time, Steve. I can’t go through that again. So you need to be sure.”
Where Steve’s hands were pressed flat against Eddie’s chest, his fingers curled in now, balling up the shirt underneath and holding on tight.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Eddie, I swear to you on… on… Dustin’s mom.”
Despite himself, Eddie felt his face crack into a smile.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Steve asked, though his own smile was slowly blooming, even as he started crying again.
“Yeah. Okay. Now kiss me like you mean it.”
AO3
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#penny00dreadful#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#fanfic#robin buckley#steddielovemonth#day 7#love is what makes you brave
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So I’ve been digging around the Turtlepedia wiki, going through old tweets from the team who worked on Rise & watched videos covering the scrapped Rise episodes so this is basically a post going through some of the scrapped season 2 stuff for Rise that I have found:
Rise was first written under the basis of there being three seasons
JJ Conway’s twitter posted an episode guide which showed some of the episodes that were expected to be in season two:
As you can see ‘The Clothes Don’t Make the Turtle’ was one of the last episode that was released that fit the original plan for Season 2 before most of the episodes got scrapped or changed & the Rise team had to rush to finish the series.
Some of the episodes we know the synopsis of while others still remain a mystery the scrapped episodes were listed in order as:
Wedding Smashers:
This episode involves Mikey & Raph going undercover as pretend villains ‘Shady Bug & Dr Rude’ to sneak into Ghost Bear’s Wedding after they accidentally gifted Ghost Bear one of Donnie inventions (a black hole generating toaster) as a wedding gift that they then need to retrieve.
The episode was supposed to introduce the character Ghostpepper, Ghostbear’s fiancé
The episode also brings up some continuity in having the characters be aware that Meatsweats has been missing since the episode Pizza Puffs where he got kidnapped by ‘Shadow fiend’ at the end, I wish this episode hadn’t gotten scrapped because it shows that the Turtles are aware that their enemies are going missing when Big Mama starts kidnapping them for her Battle Nexus New York.
This episode most likely would have shown Ghostbear be kidnapped at the end like how Meatsweats was kidnapped at the end of Pizza Puffs & Hypno was kidnapped at the end of The Clothes Don’t Make the Turtle.
Warren Stone 2:
Donnie: Stand back total stranger we are fighting our greatest foe
April kept the arm that she cut off Warren in ‘Warren & Hypno Sitting in a Tree’ & the arm ended up growing into a second Warren Stone, despite April raising this second worm in secret Warren Stone Two ends up becoming the ‘turtles greatest foe’ after Warren Stone Two captures the Turtles, April & the original Warren Stone team up to save the Turtles & defeat Warren Stone 2
Parts of the episodes storyboards can be found on youtube, a running gag appears to be Mikey referring to Warren as ‘that other worm guy whose not Warren two’
T-Hex
The episode T-Hex covers Mikey desperately wanting a robotic toy but Splinter saying no & Mikey having to sneak the electronic pet into the lair. Though the robot is adorable Mikey learns that it’s not as innocent as it seems & is actually a trap set by Baxter, the episode would have introduced Baxter in an Albearto mech
Psyched Out
Shred Dead Redemption
After the events of Manny Unhappy Returns the Foot Shack has shut down, Foot Lieutenant & Foot Brute open up a cupcake shop selling flaming cupcakes called Fire and Icing which Raph wants to investigate
The episode would have involved the Turtles doing a stakeout, a chase scene & the Foot clan putting themselves at odds with Big Mama as they investigate if her new champion ‘Shadow fiend’ has a connection to the missing Shredder.
The Island of Dr. Noe
Dr. Noe, the evil dentist from Todd Scouts ends up kidnapping Raph & Leo ends up having to lead the team in order to rescue Raph & stop the evil dentist.
Something interesting about this episode is when the Rise team were discussing this scrapped episode it was revealed that Leo wasn’t supposed to become the Leader at the end of Season 2, that’s right the iconic ‘Blue You Are The Leader Now’ wasn’t originally supposed to happen, instead Leo was supposed to be pushed into roles where he had to take charge throughout season 2 & the season would end with Raph & Leo as co-leaders.
Battle Nexus NYC (a full 20 minute episode) which was used in the series as Battle Nexus New York, the main difference between the original plan & the episode we got is that originally instead of Cassandra taking the Shredder from Big Mamma, the Grand Nexus Hotel was supposed to have fallen into the Hidden City with both Big Mamma & Shredder leaving The Foot to have to venture into the hidden city to try & retrieve the Shredder.
Toddler Mutant Ninja Turtles
A Mikey focused episode where a ‘bank robbing immortal jellyfish’ zaps Raph, Leo & Donnie, turning them into Turtle Tots & making Mikey the oldest brother for the episode. The episode is said to be inspired by the 1987 series episode ‘Adventures in Turtle Sitting’
Dog Dale Afternoon
April’s friend Dale who we first see in ‘Hypno! Part Deux’ gets turned into a werewolf by a witch & Donnie & April team up to try & turn him back to normal
Bee Story
Goyles Just Want To Have Fun
Huginn & Muninn reunite with Draxum, only to be confused when they find him working as a lunch server. Not wanting Huggin & Muninn to know how soft he’s gotten since his redemption Draxum begs the Turtles to help him look good in front of his former minions.
Rampagin’ Raph
Mikey & Leo have become more skilled in using their mystic powers making Raph feel left behind so Raph tries to practice in secret only to end up stuck in his giant form, Raph goes to to Draxum for help who ends up separating Raph & his mystic projection however the mystic projection ends up rampaging through the city becoming bigger & more powerful with the more things it destroys leaving Raph to have come clean to his brothers about what happened so they can save city.
Hot Thrash
Gourd Almighty
Donnie grows a giant pumpkin for competition & has to have his brothers help him find a way to get the giant pumpkin out of the lair
Two pages of the episodes script were posted on Ron Corcillo’s twitter
A Spiders Web Widens
Hidden City Heroes
Gone Goat
Draxum walks out after having a fight with the family but then gets kidnapped by the Foot. While attempting to rescue Draxum, the family has no choice but to resolve their issues relating to him.
The Key (a full 20 minute episode)
Karai was supposed to be introduced in this episode, she was supposed to have a larger role training the Turtles & with the family spanning around 10 episodes but due to the Rise team rushing to finish the series most of Karai’s episodes were scrapped.
The rest of the episode titles were not finalised however Ron Carney’s twitter posted a schedule board where possible episode titles can be seen.
Though Ron Carney also admitted that some of these titles are fake, the episode April Showers Mayhem Flowers might be real as the team admitted to wanting to do an episode about Mayhem & their status as an agent of the Council of Heads
The Return of Monty Moose is also probably real as we can see Monty Moose appear in the Rise Movie’s scrapped intro so the team probably had plans for the character in season 2
Monty Moose is a toy line only character from the 1987 series so Rise introducing him as an actual character is kind of cool
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1v1
Alexia Putellas x fem!reader
“Hi, I’m Kelley O'Hara, and this is one v one. Today I am joined by former NWSL player who now plays for Barcelona and the USWNT, Y/n Y/l/n!” Kelley does jazzy hands towards you while you smile and wave at one of the many cameras pointed at the two of you.
Both you and Alexia decided to take a trip to the states so you could see all of your friends and family and so Alexia could take a break from all the press who followed her around. You both share an apartment in New York in case you’re ever in the US and, obviously, a house in Spain. Kelley asked if you’d be okay with doing one of the interviews she conducts with Just Women’s Sports, and of course, you said yes. You’ve missed her since the World Cup ended, so who were you to say no? Alexia decided to stay back and rest for a bit while you went.
You’re now seated in front of multiple cameras with a few crew members and beside Kelley. The room you’re in is nice and calm, and the window behind you allows the natural light to peek its way in.
“Now, getting straight into it, I introduced you as Y/n Y/l/n, but soon you won’t have that name,” Kelley smirks with a teasing eyebrow while you blush and fiddle with the ring on your finger. “Seeing as your lover, aka the goat of soccer, aka la reina, aka Alexia Putellas, proposed to you a couple of months ago.”
You laugh at the multiple names the brunette presents your fiancé with. “First of all, Alexia is going to be mad at you for calling it soccer and her la reina. Second, yes, my name will very soon be legally changed.” Kelley starts applauding with a bright smile on her face.
“I can’t believe two of my teammates are going to be married to basically the two best female soccer players ever! Mrs. and Mrs. Putellas, then Mrs. Kerr and Mrs. Mewis.” You nod excitedly, hoping for your wedding to approach sooner.
“I remember when you came up to me and Kristie, explaining to us how we couldn’t talk to our fiancé’s about our game plans.” The defender laughs and nods her head, remembering how offended both of you looked. “Me and Kristie are still mad at you for not trusting us.”
Kelley puts her hands in fake surrender before going on to explain. "Well, a couple of us were thinking about how you two are with the enemy, and one of us just had to make sure.”
“A couple of you?” You shout in disbelief, making her look at the camera with a worried face. “Nope, cut the cameras. Interview is off!” You joke as you make it look like you’re taking off your mic. The crew chuckles at your guy’s antics and shakes their heads.
—
After several minutes of talking about why you moved to Barca and how you’ve been over there, you are now down to the last discussion.
“As we all know, you’re with Alexia Putellas, as previously mentioned. A lot of fans want to know how the it couple met.” Kelley’s legs are crisscrossed on the chair while she faces you. “I mean, I already know the story, but gotta give the fans what they want.”
Thinking back, it was a cute little story. A couple of Spanish players were in the states for whatever reason, most likely for conferences, and you didn’t have anything to do that day.
“Well, we all know my bestest friend is the one and only Christen Press, and she’s also friends with the amazing Jenni Hermoso. So when word got around they were in town, everyone set plans to go to this nice club and essentially hang out. I specifically remember after Chris and Tobin dragged me with them when we got there and sat in the round booths, both Jenni and Chris forced me and Alexia in the middle to sit next to each other. We got to talking, and eventually, we went on a couple of dates until Jenni and Christen finally admitted they had been trying to set us up.”
Most of what you say is true, but you leave out some parts to keep it PG. After you both got extremely drunk, Alexia dragged you to her hotel room, where you both had an unrestful night. The next morning, she did explain how she’d love to take you on a date, to which you said yes, and now you’re happily engaged. After you two were together for around a year and a half, Barca had an offer for you, which you quickly accepted. Everyone adored how you moved to the club with your fiancé.
Kelley’s head rests on her hand as she stares at you in a complete trance. “Tell me more.”
You laugh at her words and say, “Umm, oh! Now Christen is my maid of honor for our wedding, and Jenni is Alexia’s. Mapi was not happy about being knocked down to just a bridesmaid or groomsman, whatever you want to call it.”
“I’m a little offended that I wasn't offered the position of maid of honor.” The brunette places a hand on her heart in fake hurt, making you roll your eyes.
“You’re literally one of my bridesmaids. I can just put you as a guest if you want."
“No! No, I’m cool with bridesmaids.”
—
Once the interview was done, you and Kelley hung out for a little bit to catch up. After a while, she offered you a ride back to your apartment, which you gladly accepted.
Alexia is sitting on the couch with Nala in her lap when she hears the fiddle of keys in the doorway. The pomeranian jumps up from her lap and over towards the place where you now stand. You crouch down and pet through her fur.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hola, mi amor.” Alexia makes her way over to you and pecks you on the lips.
“I was actually talking to this one.” You gesture to the dog that’s now panting in your arms. The taller girl glares at you and takes Nala from your arms before beginning to walk away. “No no no no no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say as you press multiple kisses on her lips.
“That’s what I thought.” She mumbles against you and sets the ball of fluff on the ground. Her hands grab onto your hips, pulling you in, and start to wrap around your waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck while placing feather-like kisses on your skin. “I’ve missed you.”
You wrap your arms back around her, feeling all of your tension go away. “Awe, I’ve missed you too, baby. I know I’ve only been gone for a few hours, but it felt like years.” Your voice is muffled by your face being pressed against her chest.
“I’m glad you decided to sleep with the enemy.” You pull back from the embrace and notice her little smirk.
“You saw the interview, huh?”
The Spanish player nods before hooking her arm behind your legs and lifting you up. “Now, I have been patiently waiting for you to get home so I can get my daily cuddles.”
She struts off into your bedroom and throws you, not so gently, on the bed. Cutting off your complaining, she jumps on top of you, hugging your body and resting her head on your stomach. You shake her head with a smile on your face and begin to run your fingers through her faded pink hair. Her head slowly rises and falls due to your breathing, but it still lulls her right to sleep. Nala jumps beside you and also rests her head on your chest, causing you to smile softly and run your other hand through her fur. There is no other place you’d rather be than with your two favorite girls sleeping on top of you.
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a sense of coming home
ona batlle x reader
summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends
words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)
warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end
notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending
again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)
also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x
There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?
Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.
It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.
You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.
Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”
“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”
“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”
You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”
“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”
“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”
“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.
“I am always on your side.”
That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.
Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.
However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.
…
The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.
You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.
Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.
You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.
And… you, apparently.
“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.
Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”
“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.
“Of course.”
With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.
Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.
“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”
“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”
He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.
Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.
Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?
But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?
…
“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.
“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.
“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”
“Maybe she only likes men.”
“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”
“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”
…
You are more than a little confused.
To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.
Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.
Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?
For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.
It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.
She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”
You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”
“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”
“I cried for months.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”
She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.
“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.
Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”
You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.
Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.
No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.
“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”
“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”
“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.
You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.
Do you regret it?
It’s unclear.
You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.
This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.
As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.
It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.
It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.
You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.
There are many reasons why you go out with him.
One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.
He’s not Ona. You know that.
That's the whole point.
If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.
But you just… don’t.
Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.
You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.
The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.
Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.
“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”
“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.
Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.
“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.
“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”
Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.
Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.
“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”
…
Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.
It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.
Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.
Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.
Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.
It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.
Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.
By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.
It won’t. (It does.)
And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.
In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.
Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.
Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.
You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.
Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.
But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.
Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.
Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.
She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.
You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.
When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.
“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”
It’s not true.
It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.
She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.
…
You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.
The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.
You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.
It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.
You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.
Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.
In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.
Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.
It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.
“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”
“Why?”
The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”
You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.
She picks up.��
“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”
“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”
“Are you back at home?”
“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”
Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.
“Need me to show you around the city?”
And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?
…
Your visit goes very well.
She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.
Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.
She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.
You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.
Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.
Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”
And your hands stop.
“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.
You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”
Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.
“Who do you care about, then?”
“You.”
Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.
The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.
Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.
You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.
With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.
Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.
“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”
You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.
She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.
At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.
You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.
“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”
She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.
As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”
Ona blushes.
You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.
For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.
And that’s when she whispers it.
It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.
It has taken years but it does not matter.
Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.
#woso x reader#woso#randombush3#barca femeni#woso imagines#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle#ona batlle smut
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Plot Twist | Part II
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra
Words: 2.5k++ (whoops, this one’s longer)
Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: only soft things most of the time. bucky's 'innocent' seduction, and reader is a bit extreme when she's angry. a bit of attempted murder but we can turn a blind eye on that. otherwise, safe to read.
A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible support from the previous chapter! I thought this gonna be a flop tbh. I’m still gonna do either way, it’s for my own indulgence after all. But, now that I know lots of you are on board, I’m thrilled to take y’all along for the ride! Enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
“Where is she?” Bucky had been searching for his wife in the crowd, but he was left disappointed when he wasn’t able to catch not even a glimpse of her.
Steve leaned closer, “Clint said they’re on the way a few minutes ago. They should be here any second now.” He informed.
Bucky seemed dissatisfied with his answer; maybe he should’ve come home first and come this gala with her. But Steve insisted that he was already late due to the flight delay, and he should just go straight from the airport. His wife would come later her own, should be fine.
“Fine my ass.” He thought. For some reason Bucky had been restless lately. Maybe he had been away from his wife for too long. He was thinking of taking some time off from this business, perhaps finally bringing Y/N to a trip somewhere.
They didn’t spend much time together, but when they did it was well-spent. At least that’s what Bucky think. After the reception ceremony, he brought Y/N straight home. He had to catch a flight later that night. Something about having “Some contract to settle at in Italy. I’ll be back in two weeks or so.”
Y/N was still in her wedding dress when he tell her the news. He remembered her looking sombre but she didn’t complaint at all; instead she looked up to him as said, “Have a safe trip, please.” Bucky didn’t expect her to look at him so yearningly. He wondered what was she thinking when she said that.
For a moment, he thought of cancelling everything and stay in New York. Spend time with her, get to know her. But thinking back about the piles of workload he had on his back, he quickly snapped back to reality.
As Bucky was walking out, about to leave his newly wedded wife at the door; he hesitated. He paused as his gaze trained on her, what should he do? Kiss her goodbye? Hug her?
Y/N looked up with eyes filled with confusion. Did he forget something? Is there something he wanted to tell her?
Bucky himself doesn’t know what to do. “Fuck it.” So, he simply turn around and left her internal questions unanswered. Trailing closely behind Steve greeted Y/N goodbye before jogging up to Bucky.
“Who’s in charge of her?” Bucky asked as him and Steve walked towards the car. “Clint.” Steve answered right when they meet up with Clint himself at the car door. Bucky sharpen his stare as Clint opened the door for him, “Keep me posted.” He ordered.
Turning back, Bucky took one last look at her; she was still standing stood at the entrance. Gloom seemed to surround her, but he could see she was trying to put up a strong face. His eyes soften for a second as he thought, “She does look gorgeous in that dress.”
He felt bad during the trip. He doesn’t particularly know why, but his heart aches whenever he thought of his wife was standing there when the car drove farther away from the mansion. Maybe it was the look she gave him before he left. Or maybe he was just getting mellow, as Steve said.
So, he did everything he could to make it up for his absence. Jewelleries, clothes, shoes; anything expensive that he set his eyes on when he was away. That was the only thing he can do; at least the only thing he knew women liked. Prettiest things for the prettiest lady.
Alas, none of the gifts he gave her ever really made her happy. Clint said she accepted it but always in a reluctant manner.
“He didn't have to give me this...”
“I can't possibly accept this...”
“Do I really have to…”
Her behavior left Bucky beyond puzzled. He didn’t know what to do; he barely knew her. So, he went with the most generic way to make a woman happy. Though it didn't completely backfire, but he wasn’t satisfied with her response.
Until one day, a ‘revelation’ he called. A ‘sign from God’ for those who believe. He found the answer when he was in Paris, two months after he was declared as a married man. On the way to his meeting, he drove by a cute café. Its’ surrounding layout was adorned mixture of white, pink, and peach roses. A thought came up to him as he remembered a moment during his wedding reception.
~Flashback~
“Do you think it's possible to keep my bouquet?” Bucky heard Y/N whispered to one of the wedding planners that attend the reception. The man nodded as he explained that he can arrange the request for her. She smiled brightly and thanked the man.
Bucky watched her with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He had to ask, “You like roses?” it was short, straight to point. The question seemed to take her by surprise, Bucky never asked useless question like this.
“I love this particular type of rose.” She answered. A soft smile brightened her pretty face. A sincere expression that Bucky rarely sees in a person anymore.
He liked that.
He wanted to see more.
Wanting to continue the innocent conversation, he asked, “There's a difference?” He quirked an eyebrow.
It seems there was a silly thought that came across her mind as she giggled, “If I tell, it will only bore you.” she said.
There was glimmer in her eyes, purposely luring him to provoke her; a powerful seduction it was indeed, he leaned closer towards her, "Prove it."
~End Flashback~
“Steve, tell Clint to arrange a bouquet for her.” Bucky said, something in his eyes lifted his expression. There was no special occasion this time. It just reminds him of her.
Steve looked over him, “The usual red roses?” he asked, as if Bucky had done it was a daily occurrence.
“No…” an unconscious smile creeped up on him, "…white majolica spray roses." He said as he recalled the way she said it.
Turns out that was the best gift amongst all he gave so far. His chest seemed to tighten and soared at the time whenever he recalled how Clint explained her reaction to it.
“The widest smile he ever saw.” Clint said.
Too bad Bucky wasn't there to see it for himself.
Bucky was woken from his daydream when he heard a commission at the other side of the hall. When he turned to his left, he didn’t see Steve anywhere, he was supposed to be there. But it didn’t take long until Steve popped up in his view.
Steve walked up to the group of where Bucky was hanging around since he arrived. He faked the sincerest smile at them, “Gentlemen.” He nodded once, before leaning closer to Bucky, “It’s Y/N.”
Upon hearing her name, Bucky didn’t waste any more of his time with the meaningless small talk and left the group. Unlikely of him to leave without a proper greeting but it’s his wife for fuck’s sake.
Bucky nearly printed, “She arrived a few minutes ago and went to grab a drink.” Steve said. His brows quirked into a deeper frown, “Unsupervised? In here?” Bucky growled. Steve knew better to leave his wife in this ‘battlefield’ alone. “No, Clint was...”
The first thought that came to him was she was in danger and that pumped a rush of adrenaline through him. But it was far from the truth. In fact, quite the opposite. When Bucky managed to slither through the crowd he ended up stopping at his track.
His wife was the center of attention; two feet in front of her was a woman, tall and blonde. An empty glass in Y/N’s hand. Red wine soaked into the silk of her dress; leaving an eye-sore of a stain on her beautiful lilac dress.
“Do you think this is funny?” there was a grit in Y/N’s voice, nothing like the gentle tone she used around Bucky.
Foolish woman she was, that blonde, believing what she did was amusing. Purposely stepping on Y/N’s dress, and when she was left unguarded the woman lifted the bottom of the glass that Y/N was holding spilling the deep red drink on her dress.
“It’s a little bit funny.” The blonde giggled gleefully. And she was out there thinking that ridiculing Y/N Barnes was a humorous joke. Unaware of how petrified the people surrounding them. No one messes with Barnes. No one.
Y/N stood tall and proud; she tried to remain unfazed by childish tricks as this. A smile curved on her lips; with a wave of her hand, a waiter came to her side and take away the empty glass from her hand before quickly retreated.
She walked gracefully towards the woman; surely the blonde was taller than her but somehow Y/N managed to make her feel like she was being looked down upon, “Oh dear…” Y/N chuckled.
Despite the light laughter from Y/N, there was a sudden change in the thickness of the atmosphere. It was much heavier, sturdier, quieter. Standing face to face, eye to eye, the dumb blonde finally realized the trouble she was in, especially with wordless superiority that Y/N was exuding.
Very much resembling Bucky’s, or perhaps the very opposite.
If Bucky’s was winter cold, hers was searing fire.
“Go ahead, laugh again. Best believe that I will shove this knife down your throat when you do.”, what a menacing gaze in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.
The woman was caught of guard when she saw a blade in Y/N’s hand. When did she got her hands on one of those? Perhaps if she was vigilant enough, she would’ve seen when Y/N pulled the knife from her thigh strap from the hidden side of her leg.
Alas she was stupidly brave to counter Y/N’s threat. “I-in front of these p-people? You wouldn’t dare.” She stumbled upon her own words.
Amused, Y/N simply smiled, “You think they would care? Look around, you fool.”
The crowd was split into two categories; those who was scared for their own life and those who wanted to see blood. But both of them doesn’t give enough of a care about the life of another foolish woman who doesn’t know her place.
Y/N was right. And the woman was deemed to meet her doom.
“Come on now, ‘it’s a little bit funny’ right?” Y/N taunted her with a wickedly innocent giggle, before charging the knife to the woman’s throat.
Y/N was expecting to feel the blade sunk into her flesh, thrilling to see blood spilled from the wound but instead, she was stopped by a grip on her wrist, pulling her away from her target, “Woah there, tiger.” She recognized this voice anywhere.
“Bucky…” she whispered his name as he pulled her closer; her back flushed against his sturdy chest, muscular arms around her waist. “Okay, okay. Easy now...” His hand grazed along her wrist up to her palm, taking away the weapon from her hand.
“That’s it. Calm down, honey. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, would we?” Bucky dipped his face to the side of her neck, whispering sweet nothings in her ear; his thumb rubbing her waist, coaxing her to submit. Y/N does not know what kind of sorcery was involved, but he managed to calm her down. She leaned further into his embrace as she place her hand top of Bucky’s.
Bucky eyed Steve, giving a signal to take care of the rest of the mess, as he gracefully lead his wife away, towards the balcony for some privacy. As soon as they step outside, the cold air breezed on the surface of her exposed skin, waking her up from the lavender haze Bucky lured her into.
Having her back facing towards Bucky, she could hear him closing the door and walking up to her. She was still pissed off about the whole ordeal, but somehow her husband still managed to sway her around to face him, “It’s just a dress, we can buy more it you want.” He coaxed with a gentle caress on her arms.
“That’s not the point.” She spat, an upset frown decorating her pretty face.
But that only soften Bucky even more, “Then?”
However, she remained silence. In fact, she doesn’t know how to say it. She just looks down at the stain on her dress, “It was a gift from you.” and yet the words left unsaid.
Bucky followed her gaze; the stain was surely prominent on the pastel dress. Dragging his eyes lower, he can see the wine dripping on exposed thighs through the slit of dress, bit by bit flowing lower towards her ankle.
He lightly push her back against the railing before going down on his knees. Wordlessly, he lifted her leg and place it on his thigh; he could feel the thin heel of her shoes digging into his skin, but he didn’t care. Y/N didn’t question any of his action, especially when he pull out a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and gently wipe the excess fluid from her skin.
“Why are you mad, doll? Tell me.” His tone was honeyed as if he was pleading, as his hands keep dapping the wetness away.
There was a few seconds of stillness before Y/N finally confessed, “It was a gift from you.”
Bucky looked up at her, “What is?” As if he didn’t notice the first time he saw it.
She sighed an exhausted breath, “This dress. It was the very first gift you’ve given me.” She sounded genuinely upset. A tiny pout was starting to form on her lips.
Deciding to play dumb, Bucky asked, “Oh, is it?” he grinned a foolish smile.
Y/N wanted to wipe that smug from his face, “I’m being serious, Buck! I—” her words were cut short as she felt Bucky’s lips on her thighs. His gaze dragged slowly from her eyes and downwards to where was planting his invisible marks. Litters of feather-like kisses, as he hands gently grip on the back of thigh and calve.
“Bucky… What are you doing?” her brain was unable to render a full thought, while he lungs seemed to forgot how process air for her to breathe.
He lifted his head up for a second, “You’re just so precious, doll...” He smiled, dipping back and planted another kiss, “…that’s all.” He mumbled against her skin.
His stubble felt too good she almost melted where she stood, “I—I’m still pissed off.” She faked her anger, hoping it will stop him from doing such intimate thing in a public place like this.
Bucky willed himself to stop, as he knew if this kept going, he might go all the way regardless of where they are, “Then, let’s get out of here. What do you think?” He placed her leg down as he stood on his feet.
The offer seemed tempting, Y/N was feeling a little bit hungry and everything in the gala was bite-sized. That’s not food. At least not in her book. Her eyes brighten to the thought of having proper meal, “Can we? But aren’t you like, an important person?” she peeked at the glass door ahead, the silhouettes of people moving around, laughing; seemed like they were enjoying the gala.
“Compared to you? Never.” There was a hint of flirtatiousness in his tone. Playful, yet flirty.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “That’s not what I meant.”
Bucky chuckled as he held out his hand, silently inviting her to an unplanned rendezvous, “Come on, sweets. Anywhere you want to go.”
<< Part I || Part III >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to share your thoughts 🤍
#winterarmyyfics#plottwistfic#mafia!bucky#mob!bucky#bucky barnes au#mafia!bucky x reader#mob!bucky x reader#arranged marriage#husband!bucky#beefy!bucky#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you
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when i tell you i'm going feral over javi having breeding/praise kink, i mean it.
this man can go from a total slut to our sweet domestic husband who will bring you flowers everyday and ask for help with tying his tie.
every time he appears on my screen i'm literally screaming into the pillow and kicking my legs. because honestly? that man could fuckin step on me and i'd say thank you.
but having his last name? having his children and be their mother??
i live for that dream 😭✋
hope your day was better than mine's and you feel okay. you're my comfort person and if it weren't for your blog i would never found out about javi or dave york, thank you so much <3
Javier Peña x f!reader
A/N: I love you my beautiful bestie, you are my comfort person and I love you and sorry for taking so long 😘💘 I hope you're doing alright love 😘
• alrighty bestie, Javi is the definition of praise kink; that man will praise you at any given opportunity and he will enjoy everything single minute of it, because he lives for complimenting you as whole: your looks, your bodies, your laughter, your intelligence and of course, let's never forget about how he compliments your nails 🗣️
• he will always tell you you look pretty or mention you are wearing a beautiful color, he's gonna notice when you get a haircut, if you change your perfume and your lipstick usual colors (but let's cut him some slack here, the first thing he thinks of is that new color on your lips while you have his cock in your mouth hehe)
• and of course during sex Javier Peña is a fucking praiser™
• I mean it, he's gonna mix that with that filthy mouth of his, telling you the most explicit sinful things, at the same time he can be very sweet about you, always working on boosting your self confidence even if he doesn't really realize that
• and while doing so, of course he's gonna speak spanish too, knowing it drives you crazy
"just like that, mi amor, take all of it, all my cock in your beautiful mouth, tus labios tan bonitos..."
" you have such a delicious tight cunt, cariño, I love how you gush for me..."
"tu culo me vuelve loco, amor... Let my cock inside of it, I'll promise I'll go nice and slow"
• 🫢
• but he also likes receiving the praise; Javi suffers a lot from stress and those cruel thoughts about not being good enough or not doing a decent job, when it's time to lose himself into you and relax, he appreciates the way you remind him he's just as great
"you're amazing Javi, I'm proud of you, mi amor"
"your cock is so delicious, hermoso... Dejame cuidarte..."
• it will just melt your seemingly grumpy DIA boyfriend and he's gonna be all soft all for yourself
• also, I don't take any contrary opinions on this: Javier Peña is a family man and he just (wants) and needs a woman to make an honest man out of him; the moment he falls in love for real, he falls hard and there's no turning back, that man will love you for life
• and he's gonna change his mind about being a bachelor, he's gonna be a husband, and a great one at that matter, he's just gonna love being a husband, the fact he has a wife and that he won't have any other lonely nights, but instead, someone waiting for him at the end of the day, as he goes to his home instead of going just to a house
• he would such a proud husband, excited about wearing a wedding ring and such, everything in order to show how happy he is with marriage
• he's also the kind of husband to bring you flowers, chocolates, body lotions and any other small gifts here and there for no specific reason other than making you happy
• and not only that, he would always remember important dates, such as engagement and wedding anniversaries
• and of course, while being a loving husband, he would want to take the next step which consists of having a baby with you; it would probably start after seeing how beautiful you look with Murphy's kid in your arms, and just the general thought of having a whole family of his, would be enough to spark the idea
• and then the fun part begins: trying for a baby, which consists of you jumping on him at any opportunity
• and that man would finish inside of you every single time, hoping that time will be the charm and the baby Peña won't take very long ❤️
____
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal headcanon#pedro pascal headcanons#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x y/n#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña fanfic#javier peña headcanon#javier peña headcanons
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On and Off (III) | (m)
Word: 4.2k
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: angst, smut, Fluff
Warnings: smut, confrontation, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP!!!!!!!!!!, possessive behavior.
summary: you and jungkook can't seem to break up.
Part 1, Part 2
a/n: Here’s the finale! I hope you guys enjoy! Love all the support it really encourages me to keep writing 🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕
Taglist: @somehowukook , @gipsyg19 , @borahaexoxo
There’s a constant reminder that life moves on quickly when you’re in your late twenties. The reminders are seeing your friends job promotions, or wedding invitation or pregnancy announcements. What you weren’t expecting was a wedding invitation from your ex boyfriend. It lies on the kitchen table and your debating whether you should throw it away or rsvp.
Surely it was a mistake, maybe he accidentally sent it out to you. But how did he know where you lived? Your head aches from the confusion not knowing what the hell he was thinking. Ex’s don’t typically invite their ex to their wedding.
…
Yoongi laughs as he reads the invitation and tosses on the table. “ What an ass” He just got out of work from the clinic. There’s confusion on your face, and he explains himself. “ He only wants to rub it in your face that he is married and happy.”
“ You think so,” you scratch the back of your head. It’s possible Jungkook would stoop down low to do that. But you thought he’s changed and matured, moving past his devious tendencies.
Yoongi looks at you with an arched eyebrow, “ When’s the last time you guys talked?”
The last time you talked to Jungkook was five years ago, after the party. Occasionally you would stalk his instagram, but then you blocked him once he posted a picture of his girlfriend. “ Years ago,” you say quietly. You shake your head and you twist your ring on your finger.
“ Are you going to go?” Yoongi looks at you cautiously. He goes to your fridge pouring whiskey in a cup and hands it to you.
“ Maybe…” you take a sip. “ Should I not?” The alcohol burns your throat.
Yoongi shrugs, “ I don’t know Y/n. It’s up to you,” he pats your shoulder and goes to living room. You are left in your thoughts staring at the wedding invitation on the table. Picking it up you examine it more, tracing your finger on his printed name. Laughing to yourself you toss in the trash, then stare at it in the trash.
Later that night you wake up and grab a glass of water. Also taking Tylenol from a sudden headache from the whisky you drank. Dropping a pill on the ground you groan tossing it in the trash bin. Your eyes glance at the wedding invitation again, you groan one more time grabbing it and placing it on the table.
…
Now you are entering a busy cafe in New York with an anxious look on your face as you search for an all too familiar face. And there’s Jungkook with his headphones on and book in his hand. His hair is at the same long length, he is wearing a typical attire a black crew neck with black cargo pants. Hesitantly you walk to the table and sit down, his eyes look up to yours and he immediately takes his headphones out. “ Hi,” you say awkwardly.
Jungkook smiles brightly, “ Hi,” he says back. You notice his lip piercing is gone, the one you told him to get in college. You remember him asking what piercing is the hottest and you said lip piercing, and the next day he got it.
“ I’m sorry I’m late, I got on the wrong subway,” you explain seeing that he already got a drink and was probably here for a good ten minutes.
Jungkook shakes his head, “ No you’re fine, it takes some time to get used to it. I was fucking lost when I first came here.” He laughs to himself. You know he’s lying to make you feel better, Jungkook always been good at directions and maps.“ I got this for you,” Jungkook hands you the iced matcha. “ It’s not sweet, I told them not to add sweetener.”
Your eyes widened in surprise that remembers, “ I-thank you,” you take the drink and sipping it. The cold matcha helps you calm down. “ I’m surprised that you have time to hang out with me…you know since your probably busy with the wedding.” You tell Jungkook. The minute you RSVP to the wedding you got a text from Jungkook inviting you to catch up.
Jungkook nervously scratches his head, “ Yeah, I just wanted to see you before…yeah,” he awkwardly states. “ Uhh how are you?” He asked.
“ Good, I work at a clinic not too far from my apartment. I honestly love my job and I have a cat who’s basically my little baby” You go on your phone to show him a picture of your cat. Jungkook smiles watching you you fawn over your cat, “ He’s a really chill cat but Yoongi calls him a demon when he begs for food,” you laugh shutting your phone.
“ He’s really cute. I have a baby too his name is Bam,” Jungkook shows you photo of a massive Doberman. “ Maybe they can be friends,” Jungkook comments. You doubt they’ll ever meet since they live in two separate places.
“ That’s a big ass dog Jungkook,” you laugh. “ I thought you were always kidding about getting a Doberman when you get older.”
“ Nah he’s my little baby,” Jungkook says proudly. “ So you and Yoongi?” Jungkook eyes look over to your hands playing with the straw.
“ Friends,” you shake your head chuckling. “ He has a boyfriend and I’m unfortunately single as ever.” You curse at yourself not wanting to look desperate in front of Jungkook. Wanting to change the subject you quickly ask about him. “ So what about you? You found the one! Isn’t that exciting, you are getting married in two days.” It’s painful to say out loud. You never thought of seeing Jungkook marrying somebody or maybe you didn’t want to think about that.
“ Yeah, it is,” he smiles softly keeping it short. You figure it was him being humble not wanting to brag in your face. “ I’m free this whole day, do you want me to show you around?”
“ That would be really cool but is your fiancée alright with this?” There’s slight hesitation as you question him. “ Jungkook, does she know you are with me right now?” Your eyes glance around the cafe, wondering if she was here peeking over from another table.
Jungkook calls your name, “ She isn’t here. And she knows I’m here with you.” He places his belongings in his tote bag. “ Let’s head out of here. Go to the park, yeah?” Jungkook nods his head towards the exit of the cafe, getting up. He looks down at you since you are still sitting down, not making any movement. Logically speaking you don’t think it’s a good idea to go with Jungkook but you look up at him and every sense of logic is thrown out.
…
“ You are unbelievable,” you groan at Jungkook. “ I didn’t even know you were talking to me. I thought you were talking to Taehyung.” You guys are walking through the grass, Jungkook is taking the lead but he make sure that he doesn’t stray too far from you. And currently you guys are talking about the moment you guys met.
“ You made eye contact with me,” Jungkook laughs. “ Why would I ask Taehyung to hangout with me outside? I was obviously interested in you,” he says.
Staring at the green grass you watch Jungkook’s shoe trail over the grass as you speak “ I don’t know. I just thought you were way out of my league. You were on an academic scholarship, had so many friends, and was just good at everything. I was the complete opposite of you” you laugh shrugging. “ I felt intimidated by you.” You see his shoes stop and you look up from the grass.
“ Y/n, why haven’t you told me this before,” he looks at you with a painful expression. “ Maybe we could’ve—”
“ Still be together?” You asked incredulously. “ Jungkook, I was so spiteful towards you. We did horrible things to each other. Nothing could’ve saved our relationship,” you sighed.
“ I know and I’m sorry for what I have done. I was stupid and just as spiteful as you. But if we would’ve just communicated with each other everything would’ve been better.” Jungkook manages to make eye contact with you. And you feel yourself sinking to the floor. It’s always like that when you stare into his eyes. It makes you hopeful and hopeless at the same time.
You rub your eyes with your hands trying to shake the feeling off, “ Yeah, I know.” There’s kid’s laughter in the background and your jealous of what they are feeling compared to what your feeling. “ Jungkook, what are we doing? There’s no reason to dwell on the past. You’re getting married and I’m going back.” You release your hands dropping them to your side. Smiling at him, “ We should end it here.”
It’s painful to say it out loud but have to. This would probably be the last time you’ll talk to him. You weren’t going to speak to him at the wedding, you would probably say something stupid like confessing to him that you still have feelings for him. It was mistake for meeting Jungkook once more, your selfishness got ahold of you.
He steps closer to you,“ Y/n, I’m not getting married.” Jungkook confesses.
Everything becomes quite and you look at him like he was crazy. “ What?”
“ We called off the wedding months ago. I sent you the invitation because I wanted to see you,” Jungkook goes to hold your shoulder and you immediately back away.
There’s so much to process and rub your head in confusion. Looking around you see kids not too far away and you lower your voice “ What the fuck Jungkook? You couldn’t have texted me like a normal person?” You asked.
“ Would have you came if I texted you?” Jungkook asked.
“ I- no, maybe. Shit, I’m not sure. I thought you moved on Jungkook. We ended things five years ago,” you managed to say.
“ Y/n, I haven’t moved on. I still want to talk to you, see you, be near you…” Jungkook says gently. “ I’m sorry it took me so long to reach out. Last year I asked Mina how you were, and she said that you were in a good relationship and I should just leave you alone.” Jungkook brushes his hair back, “ I was happy that you moved on, but I also felt resentment towards myself. Like I could’ve been a better person when we were together and we could’ve tried long distance or you could’ve been here with me in New York. And I kept just thinking of what could’ve been, and I couldn’t be with someone that wasn’t you.”
There is so much to process and you just want to run away. “ Jungkook, I don’t know what to say,” you tell him truthfully.
Jungkook looks away biting his lip nervously. “ It’s okay, I was being inconsiderate just thinking about my feelings and hoping you feel the same way as me.” He looks back at you and smile, “ Uhh…it’s getting late, do you want me to drop you off at your hotel?” His eyes look around the park and notice less people walking. You’re still thinking of his words as he walks you out of the park. Thinking about the what if’s and could’ve beens.
Maybe you’ll never find out why Jungkook has a hold of your heart. That you never want to see the back of his head when he walks away from you. So you always walked away from him in the past not knowing how to deal with your feelings. Stopping you grab his hand and he immediately turns around his doe eyes widening. “ Take me to your place,” you say.
….
It’s nice spacious apartment and Jungkook grabs your bag putting it on the table. “ So this is my place. I’ve been living here for maybe five months, it has a good balcony view...” Jungkook hands move around nervously pointing here and there. “ Namjoon knows a realtor so she give me a good deal. I mean not that I don’t have enough money…I have my own office at the firm. We can go see that if you want…” Jungkook awkwardly trails on.
Laughing you sit down on the couch, “ What happened to the confident Jungkook?” You think it’s cute that he’s nervous.
Jungkook chuckles, “ Because it’s you.” He walks towards you sitting on the couch next to you. “ I always feel nervous when I’m around you. Even back then, I was just better at hiding it” he lets out a breath he has been holding.
“ Yeah?” You asked shyly. Jungkook nods and your hand instinctively brush his soft long hair. You bring him closer to you, leaning into him and kissing him. Nothing compares to kissing Jungkook. Opening your mouth slightly you allow him to kiss deeper, your other hand holds onto his shoulder pushing him gently more into the couch. He lets you have his way with allowing you to sit on his lap. You take off your shirt tossing it to the side, Jungkook looks at your boobs for a moment.
“ Uhh wait,” Jungkook groans and his hands rubs his eyes.
You are confused about what’s happening. “ Is everything okay?” You asked.
“ No, I don’t want to have sex with you,” Jungkook says.
There’s silence in the room, just hearing your own heart beating louder. “ Oh okay,” your heart drops and you get up embarrassed looking for your shirt. “ I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” Quickly you put on your shirt.
Jungkook tries to make eye contact,“ Y/n, I just don’t want it to be just sex. I don’t want you just to have pity sex with me and leave like nothing happened.”
“ Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” you replied. You obviously didn’t come here for pity sex. “ Jungkook, what was your plan when you sent me the invitation? Did you want me to leave everything behind and stay here with you in New York?” Sitting back down on the couch.
Jungkook pushes his hair back, “ I don’t know.” Jungkook didn’t think that far ahead and he thought everything would just be okay. He’s seen too many romantic movies that everything just conveniently falls in place perfectly for the main character.
“ You don’t know?” You sigh to yourself partially in annoyance. This feeling of uncertainty is all too familiar.
“ What about you Y/n?” He gives you the same amount of attitude. “ Why’d you say yes to coming to ‘my wedding’ ?” Jungkook pivots the conversation to you.
You laugh loudly, “ Oh my god, are we seriously getting into an argument. I guess things haven’t really changed.” You get up going to the kitchen table grabbing your stuff wanting to walk out.
“ Wait wait,” Jungkook quickly gets up his heart rate going up. Just a minute you were coddling him and now you are walking away. It feels like deja vu all over again, you always leaving when there’s argument and he used to always let you leave but this time he can’t let you. His hands are calmly from anxiety and he touches your arm carefully. “ Yes, I wanted you stay here with me. Or I can go back to wherever you are going. I know it sounds childish…but I hoped that we got back together. I love you, Y/n. And I never told you because it’s scary telling you this because we never expressed our feelings to each other,” his eyes pleaded with you. There’s desperation in his voice.
There’s a strange feeling in your heart, “ You love me?” You asked.
“ Yes, Y/n. I love you.” He smiles softly.
You scrunched your eyes grimacing about what you are about to say. “ I’m such a fucking horrible person, Jungkook. I came to New York because I wanted to see you at the wedding and hoped that you would feel something for me and you would leave your fiancée for me.” Opening your eyes you see Jungkook laughing giving you a baffled look. “ I know it sounds bad.” You scold yourself.
“ Yeah. But you know what I would totally leave my fiancee for you if you did that,” Jungkook easily lifts you up on the kitchen table. You wrap your arms over his shoulders playing with the back of his hair.
Tilting your head to the side, “ Jungkook, you technically did that when you called off your wedding months ago.”
Jungkook eyes widened, “ Oh shit, you’re right.” His hands go underneath your shirt feeling your back. “ I’m just as a horrible person as you,” he says as he kisses your cheek. “ We should go to couples therapy,” Jungkook suggests his fingers plays with the clasp of your bra.
“ Mmm we totally should,” you agree and your hand grabs his cheek so you can kiss his lips.
…
“ Fuck, baby,” Jungkook moans as you go down on him. His fingers grabs his sheets trying to not come immediately. It’s always been hard for him to hold back when you give him the best blowjobs. Whimpering to himself, as your lips travel his body kissing here and there. “ Gimme a kiss,” Jungkook holds your chin kissing your lips gently.
Pulling away you see his eyes twinkling and lips swollen. Your fingers trace his chest now adorned with new tattoos. “ I want my name right here,” you trace your name over his chest. It was half a joke but there’s some underlying of possession,
Jungkook gives you a little smirk tilting his head a little, “ Yeah?” Jungkook flips you over so your now on your back . “ Anything for you,” he leans down kissing your neck then marking it up. He stares at your hickeys and he just the same as you wanting to see some sort of branding. His hand travels down feeling your wetness, entering a finger and you whine.
Jungkook had many wet dreams about you since you guys were apart. The images would disappear too quickly as soon as he woke up. Then he had to force him to take a cold shower to avoid feeling any guilt.
“ Jungkook, more,” you whine as he stopped fingering you. Jungkook nods and he continues to fingering you with another finger. Hitting all the right spots. Your fingers could never compare to Jungkook. Your body only falls apart easily when it comes to him. He’s watching you with care, listening to your body and moans. Jungkook nuzzles into your neck once more smelling your scent that he’s been missing. Your hand goes down to his cock jerking him off, trying to give him the same pleasure he is giving you.
The sounds of your guys names are being intertwine as you call for each other in pleasure. Jungkook’s heart is doing somersaults as you encourage him to come for you. He wants you to come first but it’s impossible when you know all the tricks to his body. With your thumb tracing his sensitive tip and your other hand lights scratching his back. Every nerve in his body is heightened when you touch him. He curses and says your name one last time before cumming hard into your hand. Jungkook’s body falls limply on you and he’s embarrassed of hard he came from just a simple handjob. He groans to himself.
Laughing you wipe your hand on his bedsheet, “ Was it that good?” You ask brushing your hand in his hair.
His head lifts and you see his pretty eyes. “ So fucking good baby,” Jungkook breaths out heavily. His head ducks down kissing your boobs a couple times before leaving your body. He walks to the end of the bed grabbing your legs, pulling you to the edge as well. You yelp at the suddenness wondering what he has in mind. “ You didn’t think I wasn’t going to give you a mind blowing orgasm.” Jungkook says shaking his head. Then going to his knees, his strong hands easily grab your waist towards him. His mouth immediately goes between your legs eating you out with pleasure.
Without any hesitation your thighs wrap around his head bringing him closer, your hands touch his hair again grabbing it harder this time. Moaning loudly at the flicks of his tongue on your folds. There’s probably going to be a noise complaint but you didn’t care, there was always noise complaints whenever you guys had sex.
Jungkook moans into you, loving the way your body reacts to him. The painful pleasure of the tugging of his hair. One of the reasons why he kept his hair long because you were always touchy with his hair, no matter what the circumstances were. His hands hold your hips tightly and encouraging you to move your hips against his mouth. His tongue lays flat and you use him, grinding hard. His eyebrows scrunch in pleasure at your taste, he wants to able to taste this every night and morning.
You fall apart after a few minutes of him eating the fuck out of you. And your hands push his head away as he gently cleans you up with his tongue. He kisses your clit and giggle at the sensation. “ Damn, best pussy eater,” you laugh to yourself still feeling delirious from the orgasm.
Jungkook laughs at your compliment then kissing your forehead, “ Thank you,” Jungkook says. “ Best pussy ever,” Jungkook compliments you back. And you grab his his cheeks and urging him to kiss you again on the lips. He gives in and messily makes out with but he stops when he feels himself getting hard again. “ Ok ok, I have to clean my sheets. There’s cum everywhere,” he notices his cum on his sheets and a big patch of wetness from where he ate you at. “ You can take a shower, I’ll clean everything up.” He helps you up and pats your butt leading you to the bathroom.
The shower is spacious and you can imagine yourself showering with Jungkook everyday, you quickly wash yourself and grab one of Jungkook’s oversized shirts looking for him. You see that all the sheets are gone, you walk towards the balcony outside and see him staring at something. “ Smoking?” You ask as you enter outside.
“ Nah, I quit smoking years ago” Jungkook says, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. You never thought he would quit smoking since he would always smoke cigarettes. You would always complain to him which would always cause an argument. “ You look cute in my clothes,” Jungkook says grabbing your hand to pull you closer to him.
“ Mm thanks,” you lean in kissing his cheek. You stare at the buildings, “ What’s in your pocket?” Jungkook reaches in his pocket handing you pictures. It was pictures of you five years ago. Smiling at the pictures you hand it back. “ You kept it all these years. I figured you would’ve thrown it out.”
Jungkook looks at the picture, “ I did. I got in an argument with one of my ex girlfriends she saw that I had it in my drawer. Rightfully so she got upset that I still had pictures of my ex. So I threw it away in front of her in the trash bin.” Jungkook puts the picture back in his pocket, he scratches his head, “ Uhh later that night I grabbed it from the trash. I guess I couldn’t let go of those memories.”
Grabbing Jungkook’s hand you kiss it, “ I still have your ring and I wear it all the time. Well not today, I didn’t want you to see me as someone who couldn’t let go.” Jungkook gently smiles at you for you to continue expressing your feelings which you have a hard time doing. “ And I didn’t want to let go because I care so deeply about you but Jungkook I’m going home in two days.” Jungkook face falls his heart falling to his feet. “ But I’ll be back,” you kiss him assuring him nothing bad will happen.
“ You are going to stay here with me?” Jungkook ask in a hopeful tone, his hand holds your waist carefully.
“ I think New York has grown to me despite only being here for a day. I also think because your here,” you shyly smile at him. Jungkook gleams at your words his lips immediately peppering your cheeks and hugging you tightly. “ I just have to sort things back at my work and my apartment. Find a new job here,” you managed to say as Jungkook excitedly coddles you.
Jungkook nods his head, “ Of course baby. I’ll be here waiting for you.” He tilts your chin kissing your soft lips. He didn’t mind waiting because this time for sure none of you guys were running away from each other’s feelings.
…
“ I’ll see you in two months,” you say as you kiss Jungkook’s lips. He’s dropping you off at the airport, he hands you your suitcase. “ I’ll miss you,” you hug Jungkook one more time.
“ Don’t worry I’ll FaceTime you everyday,” Jungkook holds you longer smelling your perfume “ And I’ll make sure Bam gets used to cats.”
“ Thanks baby,” you say as you pull apart, you don’t want to miss your flight. Jungkook heart flutters at your pet name. “ Oh here before I forget, it was supposed to be your wedding gift” you hand him a present from your bag. Jungkook holds your present and he waves bye to you as you leave.
Jungkook enters his apartment and opens your present. It’s films to his old camera and smiles at the gesture. A card falls out and he reads your handwriting.
To Jungkook,
I think that in every alternate universe I would always say yes to going out with you, no matter what our outcome would look like.
p.s. Sorry for wasting your film
#bts#jungkook#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#namjoon#taehyung#yoongi#bts imagine#bts scenarios#btssmut
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Vampire Waltz - ch 16
Max Phillips x female reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+
Word Count: 14.5k
Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* A bit of dirty flirting, some talk about labor pain/injuries and childbirth, lots of fluff. There's a lot going on in this chapter but not much in the way of warnings.
Summary: Returning to Newport from New York, Max cooks up a surprise for you before you prepare to return to the future. Not everything will go according to plan, though.
Notes: We are almost at the end, folx! I have loved every second of this crazy journey, and this little family will be particularly hard to say goodbye to. As always, please excuse any errors I missed do to sleepiness. This week enjoy a lovely Eddie gif 🧡
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15
In the days following the Astor’s Beechwood ball, you find yourself once again in your old familiar haunts. While Annie flits about in the first throes of wedding planning — the engagement announcement was overwhelming and quite the spectacle — Emmanuel seems to be even more doting and ever present. Max and Yayo have had their heads bent over mysterious vampiric business since your return — you swear you heard them talk about building something but they’re so quiet you can’t be sure — and with no nearby friends to call on you or duties to oversee, you’re just enjoying being settled. The morning room, comforting and familiar, with your tea tray and book are a lovely and sunny place to be while the whole rest of the household buzzes by.
“There’s my darling.” Max sails into the room with a broad, proud smile on his face.
“You look as if you’re up to something,” you assess, although you immediately shift over on the window seat to make room for him.
“I’m always up to something.” He admits with zero shame. His smile turns into a grin and he leans in to press his lips to yours eagerly. “How are you feeling? Are you up for a little trip?”
“How little is little?” Whatever it is, you’re going to say yes. But you still want to know what he has up his sleeve.
“Probably about thirty minutes?” Max asks, rolling his eyes at how slow the horses will take him and you where he wants to go.
You hum, pretending to consider it, but give yourself away with a grin when you lean forward to kiss his nose. “Do I need to change? There are so many damn rules for what I’m supposed to wear and keeping track is a menace. Thank the gods for Renee.”
“No.” Max shakes his head. The higher hem of your day dress would be perfect. “Although I would change into your boots.” He cautions.
“Hmmm.” Squinting at him in suspicion, you steal one more kiss before shifting forward on the bench. “Alright, I’ll go change my shoes and get a hat and gloves.”
“Perfect.” He smirks. “I’ll have the carriage brought around.” He promises and quickly bounces out of the room happily.
By the time you come down again everything is ready to whisk you away, and even Yayo waves from the library as you pass through the great hall. “I’m very suspicious and very curious,” you tell Max once you’re bundled up beside him in the carriage and the horses start to move.
Max chuckles and flicks the reins. In true nineteenth century fashion, he has learned to drive a horse and buggy as well as ride. The horses that your grandfather have being bred by vampires so they don’t shy away from the predators.
“Just us? No staff?” You had expected one of the covered carriages, not the stylish little open-air phaeton that is essentially a 19th century sports car.
“Just us.” He throws you a grin and leers. “Why, are you afraid to be alone with me?”
“No.” Always honest with him, you cuddle up to his side and throw him a dirty smirk. “But I might fuck you in the back of the phaeton if it’s not too cold wherever we’re going.”
He chuckles. “Maybe that was my plan all along?” He teases and glances back at the road as you make your way back down the row of styles bungalows and mansions.
“Good plan.” You snort, laughing along with him. “Solid. I like it.”
“I thought so.” He beams cockily and slips the lap blanket more securely over your legs.
“Did you have a good day so far?” He’s spent so much time with Yayo since you got back from New York that you’ve basically only since him at meals and in your room.
“Very good.” Max smiles an elusive smile, one that promises that he has a secret. “So good that I want to celebrate with you.”
“Well I know you didn’t find us a way home, since that’s my job.” In fact, you have another magic lesson with your abuela tomorrow after breakfast. It’s how you’ve been passing your mornings since getting back from New York.
“Maybe I did….in a way.” He chuckles and once the homes have given way to trees, he turns down a wagon path.
“You’re being extremely Yayo-like.” The similarities in your grandfather’s flare for the dramatic and your soulmate’s is just funny at this point, and definitely a point for teasing him with. Having Max for Yayo’s protege makes perfect sense.
“I will take that as the compliment it’s meant to be.” He pretends to huff, but the grin on his face gives him away.
Driving a little bit further down the road to wherever, you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you hum softly and look back at him. “I was going to save it for tonight,” you tell him with a satisfied little smile. “But I finally got fire lighting down pat with abuela this morning. I can light anything from a candle wick to a fireplace consistently.”
“That’s great!” Max smiles at you, proud of your accomplishment. He knows how hard you’ve been working to control your magic.
“It’s not exactly groundbreaking, but I’m working on it.” You’ve found that your problem isn’t power. You have an enormous amount of power at your literal fingertips now that your magic has been released. Consistency is your issue. Getting reliable and consistent results is the only way to get you back to the future safely.
“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it, it will be you. You have the most determination of anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“You see the best in me.” It’s humbling, the faith he has, but also massively encouraging. Half the time you feel like teasing him about finding a cheerleading uniform but you know it would turn dirty. “And I love you, too.”
“I see the you that you are. Max insists, transferring the reins to one hand so he can pick yours up to kiss the back of it. “Just like how you see me.”
“I like how mushy you are in the 1880s,” you tease, knowing he would be mushy and romantic no matter what era you’re in together.
Max scoffs and rolls his eyes, happy that he’s not fed recently so he can’t blush. “Hush.”
“Nope.” The grin on your face says everything, and you throw him one of the winks he loves to aim at you before turning back to watch the world roll by around you.
It doesn’t take too long to come to a clearing and Max pulls the phaeton to a stop. The coast is right beyond the clearing with its own rocky cliff. “Here it is.”
“Here what is?” Glancing up at him, you bite your lip but raise one amused eyebrow. “Did you seriously bring me out here for nature sex? Because I’m okay with that but I think it’s funny that I guessed.”
Max snorts but shakes his head. “No.” He smirks at you. “But you might want to fuck me after you find out what this place is.”
“So tell me what it is, then.” Something itches at you to get out and explore, but you���re not really sure what there even is to explore. A half an hour in the phaeton has put you outside of the immediate neighborhood of the Bellevue Avenue “cottages” and further up on Ocean Avenue at the very corner of the island. The view of the ocean is brilliant here, sun shining off the water and enough of a hill to put you on top of a breathtaking little cliff-face.
“This….” Max pauses for dramatic effect. “Is the land where that gorgeous little gothic mansion sits back in our time.” He reminds you of the present day home. It was never opened to visitors and privately owned although no one ever knew quite who owns it. “Our future or past, home.”
“Wait…” Your attention snaps back to him and your eyes widen in recognition. “Seacliff? The one that looks like a little gothic revival castle?” You had affectionately called it Seacliff Dollhouse when you first saw it, and Allison had giggled, telling Max and Eddie about it when you came home that night. “That’s…it’s our house?”
“That’s our house, sweetheart.” Max nods. “Your grandfather and I decided that if you can harness this time travel spell, then it would be fitting that we have a place to land when we return.” He explains. “The architect finished the plans today.”
"That's what you've been up to?" Tears well up behind your eyes almost instantly, blinking at him in utter disbelief. "Max, I—" You swallow a hiccup, finding yourself completely speechless and then instantly rambling through sniffles a moment later. "Baby, that's amazing! I swear I'm going to work so, so hard to master it and you're going to be so damn proud and have no one to brag to about it."
Max reaches out and cups your cheek. “I’ll brag to myself.” He promises. “When your grandfather showed me the land and he already has it, I just knew that we had built that house.”
"You're absolutely wonderful." Pressing in to kiss him, the urge to explore makes complete sense to you — it feels like the land is calling to you on a basic and magical level. "No wonder they worked so hard to convince my parents to train me as a witch when I was little." You hum, tucking into his side to look around you. "Yayo knew so much about us already. But there are some things that even he can't know about the future."
“Your grandfather knew, but he regrets pushing so hard.” He murmurs quietly. Your grandfather in this time has been more open after learning about the connection.
“At least things can get better.” You squeeze his arm gently. “And my offer to help you reconnect with your family still stands, love. Whether it’s future or past, that’s up to you.”
Max sighs softly and shakes his head. “No.” He murmurs quietly. “I don’t think they would want that. I’ve ignored people my entire life, I won’t ignore their wishes.”
"You can always change your mind." A kiss on his cheek is the end of the conversation for now, and you nod to the small, cliffside acreage in front of you. "So do you want to tell me about the design for the house? Since I've only ever seen the inside?"
"Gothic." Max grins and winks at you. "Gilded Gothic."
"You're going to keep this under your hat until we get back, aren't you?" It's yet more of his flair for the dramatic, and you can't help but smile.
"Claw foot tubs, a reading nook off the library that will have you cozied up every day." Max ticks off some of the highlights.
"At least one room big enough for us to dance in?" You ask, batting your eyelashes hopefully.
"The ballroom will open up onto the balcony overlooking the ocean." He smirks. "I wanted to be able to sweep you out there during a dance."
"Honey." That hopeful expression melts into awe all over again. Sometimes he really just does astound you with how sweet he is in that big, romantic heart that no longer beats. "We're going to throw the best parties," you decide, humming with excitement.
"Of course we are." He promises, looking out over the land and imagining what it will look like in the future. "We will need to make sure we live up to your grandmother's reputation."
"Abuela's reputation and Lina's expectations," you chuckle at the thought. "I have a feeling if I was a disappointing hostess she would sense it through time and show up to correct me."
Max snorts again and nods. "I know she would." He chuckles. "She would follow you around, clicking her tongue and tsking."
"And no one wants to have Mrs. Astor following them around tsking." It's a beautiful piece of land with the ocean stretching out all around you, and conjuring the image of the house in your mind lifts such a wistful sigh out of you that you feel a little sheepish. "I do like it here," you admit after a pause. "But I'll be glad to go back to our own time, too."
"I know." He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. "I even miss Eddie if you can believe it."
"I do believe that," you huff, rolling your eyes at him. "Pretend all you like, but he is your best friend."
He huffs, acting offended, but he doesn't actually refute you're comment. He can't. Not when he's spent so much time with Eddie over the past few years, he's come to like the perpetually youthful vampire. More than a little, he looks at him like the little brother he should have had. "Whatever."
"Mmhmm." You practically cackle at the way his face twists, hugging his side all over again. "That's what I thought."
"Anywaaaaaaaay." He rolls his eyes. "Do you like this place?"
"I absolutely love it." Shifting beside him, you pull off the blanket that's been covering your laps and grab his hand. "Come on. Let's walk around."
He hops down from the Phaeton and quickly lifts you out of the buggy so you can walk around. "The architect has set the stakes in the grass. We can walk out our house."
"I always wondered how big the house actually is." You've only ever driven past it, turning the corner of Ocean Ave with Max or Allison or the other girls from the coven as you wondered aloud who owned the house or who had built it way back when. Now that you know the answer, it makes the guesses that much more fun.
"Anything you don't like can be changed." He assured you hastily, wondering if you might feel left out of the decision. It's technically a gift from your grandfather, but Max had helped him plan.
"Tell me what you have planned." There's no doubt in your mind that it will be perfect, but you know that he's proud of his surprise and you want to hear it right from him, not from looking at a set of blueprints. Max's excitement always makes your heart skip a beat in the very best way. "I'm sure it's perfect. I just want to get excited with you."
"Surprise, surprise...." Max grins at you. "The kitchen is not in the basement." He whispers, feigning horror. "It's beautifully lined with windows that open to cool it down from the ocean."
"Let me guess?" Waggling your eyebrows a little as he starts to lead you around the border of the house, you shoot him a grin. "Yayo and Abuela's special enchanted glass?" It had been explained to you that the windows at Chateau-sur-Mer were treated with a coating to prevent the vampires living there from being too affected by the sun. Abuela, however, went more in depth with the explanation once you had come back in time. Apparently the coating was something she had created herself, to protect her soulmate.
"Of course." He nods, your grandfather having insisted on the glass being installed in the new home. "He said that it would last through the ages. Another positive is that little boys can't throw balls through the window."
"And if I know your sons, they will absolutely try." Any rambunctious little boys with his dimple and your hair and all of that pent-up mischievous energy are bound to get up to trouble, and it's sweet to imagine now — well before you'll actually have to deal with any of the fallout from it. After all, they'll also be more than half vampire by blood, so who knows what other chaos they'll get up to.
"Before we...go home." Max starts quietly. "I want you to talk to your abuela about what its like." He tells you. "She is the first human to give birth to a vampire's child. Her insight into this is the best you can ask for."
"I will." It's pretty much the most reasonable request in the world, if you're honest, and you wouldn't deny him something so logical. Especially when he's right. Your abuela's insight will be invaluable. "But baby...even if it doesn't ever happen for us. That's okay. There are a whole lot of ways to be a family. It doesn't have to include biological children. After all...there's never been another family like ours before in the history of the world. We can't know how likely it is. Or isn't."
"No...." That's true and it's a bittersweet fact for Max. He laces his fingers with you and pulls you to a stop in the middle of the clearing of what will become a gorgeous little mansion. "But I want you to know what I had imagined when I was human. When I though of 'forever' with my soulmate."
“Okay.” This is obviously a point of some not inconsiderable pain for him, and even though you wish you could just reach into his heart and wipe it away, it’s part of him. It’s part of who he is and you wouldn’t change a single thing about who he is. “Tell me everything.”
"I was an asshole." He can admit it, it was the truth. "I was a playboy and a little wild. Loose as Mrs. Astor would say." He chuckles. "But I believed in my soulmate. So much. I knew that when I found her, you, I was going to do everything I could to make her happy." He rolls his eyes. "I had it all planned out. I would be the hardworking provider and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. Stay home with our four beautiful kids, pursue whatever career you wanted, but I was going to give you everything you ever wanted."
It must be a particular sting then, to his masculine pride, that your incoming and your home — two homes — both come from your family and your inheritance. But it isn't as though you ever planned for that. Or waved it in his face. "You take amazing care of me, love." After all, hasn't he been the one encouraging you to embrace your freedom and to pursue the things you love? Financial freedom may have come from elsewhere, but Max has brought you emotional freedom.
"But up until just a few months ago, I was under the assumption that I could never give my soulmate a family." He reminds you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I know that it's a long shot, or might not happen, but if it can, I want it. I want to be the parent I never had. The support and love that I always wished for." He smiles softly at you. "The kind of life you had growing up."
"Alriiiight..." Your hands travel up and down his arms when you step closer to him, letting his hands slip around your waist so that you can be that much closer to him. "But four kids is gonna be a lot louder than my house growing up," you tell him, a grin sliding across your lips. "I hope Seacliff has five bedrooms in that plan of yours."
"Six." He winks at you with a sly grin. "One for company."
"Planning ahead, I see." It makes your grin split, giggles spilling over one more time. "We'll keep trying," you promise him, hands soothing over the warm fabric of the jacket he doesn't need to be wearing. "If we're lucky enough to have kids, they'll know their magic and their bloodline. If we end up adopting kids through time, we'll make sure the house is always full of life and laughter. Always."
"As long as you are happy." Max worries about that secretly. Always hoping that it will be enough. "That is all that matters."
"I am." You promise him without hesitation. "And you're so much of what's made me happy. It wouldn't be complete without you, love."
"I'm hoping that you mean that." He knows you believe that, so he shoots you a wink and guides you over to large, staked out area. "This is your library."
"I get a library?" He knows you far too well. It's obvious. And although a library is standard in Gilded age mansions, they were usually for men to use and you hadn't even considered that this new house of yours would have one.
"Where else would your reading nook go?" He asks with an indulgent grin. "With windows perfect for a little bat to fly in and out of."
"Best soulmate in the whole world," you giggle madly, burying yourself in hugging him, overwhelmed with excitement about this next step forward with him. "Does my library with its reading nook have a desk for my soulmate to do business at, or did you design yourself a study?"
"There is a decidedly masculine writing desk." He smirks and shakes his head. "No study for me to disappear into, sweetheart. That will be your spell room."
"With abuela Cookie's grimoire and a copy of Lina Astor's right next to each other." Looking up at him, you prop your chin on his chest and grin. "I've decided what deities I'm going to keep on my altar from now on."
"Which ones, sweetheart?" Max has been learning about your religion, but he doesn't have it all down yet. Plenty of years to learn though.
"I thought I would keep the statues of Hades and Persephone that abuela has up." Your hands pause their continual, soothing journey on his arms and you give his shoulders a squeeze. "Sexy and misunderstood representation of living death alongside the goddess of spring? It...kind of reminds me of us..."
He tilts his head curiously. "How so?" He asks, wanting you to explain it.
"Sexy undead guy," you explain, unable to holding in a grin as you point to him. "And girl who really like flowers. And also the sexy undead guy," you laugh, pointing to yourself in turn.
He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Of course." he chuckles. "I'm sexy and you know it."
“Yes I do.” In the chilly October air, you push up on the toes of your boots to kiss him. “I really hope you know how much you mean to me.”
"Maybe you can show me over the next few millennia?" He poses.
“Without a doubt.” You hum, beaming at him and never intending to stop for even half a second.
"Good." He leans in to kiss you again and then turns your attention back to the property. "Now let me show you the ballroom."
“I can’t believe how much you got done.” It’s only been a few days and the notion that an entire house could be designed in that time seems crazy. “Yayo has a vampire architect, doesn’t he?”
"Of course he does." Max snorts. "Apparently he's the best around and your grandfather changed him in order to make sure that the house he wanted for Cookie was completed before your mother was born."
"Of fucking course he did." You practically groan out a laugh as Max steers you toward the area that will be the back of the house. "Of course my grandfather turned the greatest American architect of the mid-1800s." There was very distinctly a conversation with Mrs. Taylor after you had come to Newport about the man who designed and spearheaded the building of the house. And you definitely remember her singing his praises above and beyond normal admiration.
Max chuckles with you and sends you a sly smirk. "I've met him and you aren't going to believe it...but I think he's Frank Loyd Wright. Or he becomes Frank Loyd Wright."
"Are you telling me our house is going to get built during Frank Lloyd Wright's goth phase?" For some reason that just tickles you endlessly, making you burst out into more giggles and hold Max's hand tighter.
"Apparently." He pulls you close in the center of what will be the ballroom and starts to hum a little tune, starting to sway to the rhythm. "And here is where we waltz."
"Our very own ballroom." As perfectly fitted to his arms as the first night you danced together, following his steps is easy and fluid, giving you the feeling of taking a deep and relieving breath.
"Our very own ballroom." He hums, grinning at the idea. "I want to put a design on the floor, haven't figured out what."
"Do you have any ideas?" There has been some beautiful woodwork in the houses you've been inside recently, and you wonder if any of those had given him ideas.
"I was thinking about a symbol. Maybe a protective one for you." He murmurs, blowing a kiss at you.
"Then we had better ask abuela. Mom said she has a lot of experience with runes and things like that." Since the spellbinding was lifted from you in New York, your memory has resettled itself. There were things that were embedded in you — false memories and gnarled half-truths to keep your mind from remembering its magic — that have lifted from your thoughts like a curtain allowing sunrise to shine through. Since then, you've remembered quite a lot. Including how your mother used to do her tarot readings at the dining room table when you were little and how your Yayo would always bring you dancing shoes for your birthday every year. Your childhood doesn't feel cloudy and far away anymore.
"Perhaps the floor will be embedded in something that will aid your time travel." He muses, smirking at the thought. "Something that would bring us to our ballroom."
"A little magical transporter pad in the middle of the ballroom?" You suggest, not bothering to suppress a giggle. "I'll have to incorporate 'beam me up' into my spell work."
"I always loved Star Trek when I was younger." Max admits with zero shame. "Next Generation of course."
"Of course." And of course you fully agree, having watched so much science fiction with your father as a kid. "The Holodeck? A dream come true."
“We have our own version of the holodeck.” He teases. “Time. We will be able to go anywhere if this works. Want to visit Pompeii before the eruption? We can take a day trip.”
"Where would you want to go?" Your dancing has slowed a little but you're still turning around the marked out space that will one day be your ballroom. "When or where? What do you want to see?"
“Anywhere.” He shrugs. “Everywhere. History is before us and behind us. It will be interesting to see it in person.”
The freedom of it is enticing, you have to admit, and you grin as he spins you around. "We're going to have to get really good historical clothing. A whole closet of it so we can go anywhere or anytime we want."
“Who says we don’t already have that?” Max challenges with a grin. “We also didn’t know we had a house.”
"That..." Your eyes flick up to his and you tilt your head, amused at the thought that you might already have a hoard of clothes and souvenirs to dig through in the future. "Is a very good point."
“I’m just full of wisdom.” He teases playfully, right before he dips you low to the ground just to hear your breath catch and your heartbeat speed up.
"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to play with your food?" You tease. He's only ever fed from you once, but you've found yourself thinking about it more and more since that night, and how much more intimate it made your love life.
His brow wings up and he smirks at you. “My food?” He asks, playing coy. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
"You know what I mean." He picks you up again, setting you on your feet, but holds you even closer than before. "I've been...thinking about it. A lot."
“And what have you been thinking about it?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.
"That..." If you roll your eyes slightly at how dramatic he's being, it's only because the heat of embarrassment is rising in your cheeks a little. "That it was...really sexy..."
“It was sexy, wasn’t it?” He hums smugly. “Two very different parts of my body, buried inside you at the same time.”
"We should definitely do it again soon." If his voice drops anymore it will be in his toes, and it is doing things to you. Very distracting, very horny things.
“How soon?” Max inquires, cock twitching in his pants. He’s hungry, but the blood your grandfather has been supplying has been alleviating that. Although it’s not as sweet as your blood.
"Can you wait until tonight?" A smirk graces your lips, though you can't feel the evidence of his arousal with so many layers of clothing between you. "Or are we actually going to fuck in the back of that phaeton?"
“I was thinking more of using that blanket and having you sit on my cock while I bite your tender neck.” Max growls. “But we can always wait for tonight.”
"If we wait until tonight, we can take as long as we want, and I you can have me as many different ways as you want." There's the added benefit of being able to be naked the entire time, too, because Max is nothing if not stunningly handsome.
“Fiiiiiine.” He huffs and pouts, but there is a smirk tucked into his cheek. “You are teasing me, knowing how much I ache for you.”
"You're not the only one aching," you promise him. If he could get one hand under all of the layers of skirts you're wearing right now, he'd feel exactly how aching and wet you are at the moment. "I just really like having you naked."
“It is pretty great, isn’t it?” He asks cockily. “Killer abs and all.” He chuckles and spins you around. “Although I love when you are naked more.”
"Then I think it's a really good reason to excuse ourselves after dinner." That big four-poster bed is calling your name. Or rather, it's going to be the place that you call his name.
"Yes, you are exhausted." He tells you dramatically. "Or perhaps you have a headache and require my special attention." He leers and flashes his fangs at you while waggling his brows.
“Very special attention.” You agree with a tone so serious that it circles back again to silly.
“A shot of protein cures everything.” Max jokes.
The inelegant snort that earns from you devolves you both into a fit of laughter right there in the middle of the clearing. “You’re ridiculous,” you pronounce when you finally stop laughing and can breathe again. “And I love you so much.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.” From the first time he had met you, he had expected you to be prime and proper, but you are delightfully dirty when you want and you love his sense of humor.
“Show me more of the house?” You’ll stay out here in the chilly ocean breeze with him all afternoon, dreaming and scheming about all the things the future has in store. But you definitely also want to see the outline of the house the way he’s imagined it.
“Our dinning room is off the ballroom.” He explains, moving towards the east side of the stakes. “So the buffet tables can be replenished by the kitchens easily.”
“Are you already planning our first party?” Sure you’re teasing him, but you know what you would choose for it to be.
“I think we have to have a party.” He huffs, eyes wide. “Don’t you? Unless you want this to be the mysterious house that everyone is dying to see and never do?”
“We’ll enigmatically say it’s been in the family for a long time,” you suggest with a grin. “We have to throw a party.”
He chuckles and nods. “That was my thought. Your grandfather has taught me about establishing new identities when our will become “too old”. On paper at least.”
"He's enjoying having someone to pass all of his knowledge down to." Even if you don't know your grandfather too intimately, you certainly can see the pride on his face from spending time with Max. It's the same expression he has with Emmanuel, and you suppose for very similar reasons.
“He could have started the training a little sooner.” Max huffs, shaking his head. “Feel like I’m back studying for my MBA.”
“And since he knows exactly how well you did studying for that MBA, he knows how well you’ll do now.” The outlines of the house are well marked, and when you come to the edge of the dining room he leads you along the demarcation of what you assume will be the great hall. “It wouldn’t be a Yayo-approved level of dramatic reveal if he had started with you sooner.”
He rolls his eyes only because he knows it’s true. “Can’t spoil the surprises.” He snorts.
"Never," you laugh right along with him. "Gods forbid."
The tour of the upstairs is less concrete, more just telling you about the living quarters of the little gothic castle he is building for his witch soulmate. Explaining it to you in vivid detail.
The two of you spend hours out there, walking every inch of the property and dreaming over every detail. It's a fairly remarkable feat of planning, but it sounds marvelous, and by the time you're bundling back into the carriage with Max, you can't stop smiling.
“So, what do you think?” He asks as the Phaeton is turned around and headed back towards your grandparents house. “Too much? Or just right?”
“For us?” You loop one hand around his arm as he steers the horses and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’d say absolutely perfect. It can be grand when we want it to be and intimate for all the other times. Dramatic but comfy. That’s perfect for us.”
“That is what I want.” He admits. “Plus, building in this era, hopefully the building will last for hundreds of years for our adventures.”
“Do you think…” Shifting beside him, you look up at Max seriously. “That…I ought to tell abuela and Mom? Not who I am but…where we came from? Otherwise won’t they be wondering why we’ve suddenly disappeared but are building a house?”
“Your grandfather will tell them after we go home.” He and Max had a long, serious conversation and had come to the conclusion that was the best course of action. That way the time could be enjoyed without questions that might give away your identity and somehow change the future.
“You two have talked through everything.” And you’re grateful for it. Otherwise the anxiety of the whole situation might have kept you from making so many wonderful memories.
"I know it seems like we are planning your life for you." Max reaches for your hand again. "If you want to be included, I will talk with your grandfather."
“Honestly?” You shrug a little, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I don’t mind having you look out for me. Making sure I’m safe and putting a literal roof over my head? It’s comforting. I had…all those years there where there was no stability. Anything could be gone in an instant. So this? This…feels pretty amazing, if I’m honest.”
"As long as it doesn't feel controlling." He murmurs quietly. That was his worry, to somehow make you feel like you are back under someone's thumb. His own thumb rubs the back of your hand gently. "You are my partner. My equal in everything."
“And I know that if I said something made me unhappy, you would fix it in a heartbeat.” You grin at him, setting your tongue firmly in your cheek. “Even though you don’t have one.”
"I do when I kiss you." He can't help but lean in to press his lips against yours just to feel it. He grins against your lips and hums happily when he feels that bump in his chest.
"Watch the road, baby." Even as you hum it, you can't help giggling quietly.
"I can drive and kiss my soulmate at the same time." He huffs, rolling his eyes at you dramatically and sighing. "Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnneeeeee."
"You can, but I don't want to have to explain to my grandfather that his phaeton got overturned on the road because we got handsy," you tell him with a guilty grin, knowing it will happen.
“You’re right.” It grates that you are right about that, but he knows he can’t keeps his hands off you when he want to touch you. Especially now that a certain step has been taken.
Instead of letting him pout, you flash Max a grin instead. "Quickie before dinner?"
“Absolutely.” He smirks and winks at you. “Want to see if we can set a record for how fast you cum?”
"We need to keep a tally of what the fastest really is." It's like dangling the carrot of a challenge in front of Max, and you know he can never resist a challenge. "Just for fun?"
"Timers." Max huffs. "Why can't they have timers in this era that are accurate to the millisecond?"
"I'll wear your Apple Watch when we get home," you tease him. Max is always so cute when he pouts. "See how fast my heart rate spikes."
"I want to time from the moment we enter the bedroom until you are screaming my name." Max tells you with a chuckle.
"That never takes long." He has learned very quickly how to play your body like a finely tuned instrument. Thankfully, one rocky evening of magical interruption hasn't interrupted your desire for each other.
"That's because you cum so easily, sweetheart." He teases, particularly proud of that fact considering that you had said that you never really came during sex.
“Weird.” Particularly lighthearted in your teasing, you roll your eyes at him and laugh. “It’s almost like I respond better to clitoral stimulation and nobody before you knew what the fuck a clitoris was.”
"I studied in school." He winks at you playfully. "Your little clit is my favorite sucker, toy, whatever you want to call it. It's the best."
You toss him a smirk, leaning into his side again as he steers the horses back up the road. “It loves you, too.”
Max eyes you smugly. "I know."
“You’re so fucking pleased with yourself.” It cracks you up all over again, sending you into giggles at his side. Truly one of the best things about how easy it is to spend time with Max is the laughter. “But you’ve earned it, I suppose.”
"You wound me." He pouts. "I've most definitely earned it. No supposing about it."
“Maybe I just like when you prove it to me?”
Throwing his head back, Max laughs. "Of course you do."
******
Your morning magic lessons have persisted. The hours between breakfast and lunch have been spent in the tower with your grandmother and sometimes your mother as they help you to control the powers that have been locked inside you for so long. This morning Annie come upstairs with you after sharing breakfast as a family. Max kissed you goodbye at the table before leaving with your grandfather to go out to the site of the future Seacliff Castle, and your grandmother had been delighted with a morning for you three witches to spend time together.
The smell of herbs fill the air and Cookie hums as she builds up the fire in the hearth for the cauldron that is suspended over it. The quick flick of her wrist and the almost murmured words creates a flame that is powerful and she smirks at it. "Today we will work on healing." She decides. "It can be very useful, especially as the soulmate of a vampire."
"I suspect one accumulates infinite nicks and cuts over hundreds of years," you agree, dutifully settling yourself down on the stool beside Annie on one side of the fire. It's clear that your mother is an incredibly gifted witch, but she is still honing her skills. She might be more powerful than your grandmother one day, but that day has not yet come.
"Max will heal," She gives a small laugh. "I am talking about healing yourself when you soulmate gets too amorous and bites too hard."
"Oh." Even though his saliva heals the wound on your neck whenever he bites you — which he has now done a total of three times and you ache a little just thinking about it — of course there may be a time when he is not so loving and careful. A time when things get, as your abuela puts it, amorous. "I...uh...of course."
Annie looks queasy and swallows but Cookie smirks. "Plus you might be in a position to heal another human." She mentions quietly. “My talents were of great use during the war.”
"I imagine there would be a great many times healing magic might come in handy." You offer, just thinking out loud now. "Including childbirth."
"Childbirth, I would suggest having another witch with you." She advises.
"Goodness." Annie glances at you with worry in her eyes. "I cannot say I look forward to that at all."
"Your father created a tonic." She reminds her daughter and look of utter love as she reaches out and caresses Annie's cheek. "The twenty-three hours of labor it took to bring you into the world was lovely. Like floating on a cloud."
"You may be the only woman in the world to ever be able to say that." Although the bit about it taking twenty-three hours makes you cringe internally. Thinking back, your mother had told you she was only in labor with you for something like five or six. "That makes you very lucky."
“The end was absolutely worth it.” Cookie beams at Annie who huffs in embarrassment. Her mother sometimes overly showers her with affection.
"Truly." You couldn't agree more, but it's for far more reasons than either Cookie or Annie might think.
"Have you and Max had a conversation about children?" She asks, prying slightly but not even embarrassed about that.
It's impossible to admit that you're trying to have children in the traditional way without giving away your bloodline — and therefore telling them that you are related to them in some very direct way — so you cross your hands over your lap and pretend to be quite embarrassed for a second while you decide what to say. "The house that he and Mr. Brown have designed will have several bedrooms," you tell them finally. "We are hoping to be able to adopt many children throughout our lifetime."
"It is always wonderful to be able to do that." Cookie agrees. "There have been several children that my soulmate brought home." She smiles at her daughter. "Although none after we had you."
"Families can take many shapes." You offer, shifting slightly in your seat and generally being glad that no one seems to be pushing the point any further.
"Yes." She gives you a small pat on your arm and then turns back to the cauldron.
It feels oddly patronizing, that pat on the arm, but you brush past it and smile at your grandmother. “So what will we be learning today? Healing, yes, but what specifically?”
"Supernatural injuries." Cookie supplies, just as mysterious as her soulmate at times.
“Vampire bites?” You guess, remembering what she had said earlier. “Singeing yourself with magic?”
"There can be a host of different injuries that can come up from having a vampire for a soulmate." She's speaking from experience but she won't gross her daughter. "I'm sure you understand what I mean."
“I…might have an idea.” There’s a chance she’s referencing rough or at least energetic sex, and you determinedly don’t want to think about your grandparents fucking. Clearing your throat and nodding, you just try not to look uncomfortable. “Although I’m not sure I understand how that could result in an injury.”
"Mother." Annie hisses the word, clearly mortified since she knows what her mother with say. Cookie ignores her daughter and gives you a small smile. "There is a reason that I have only had one child." She admits. "I cannot physically carry anymore."
“I see.” Obviously this isn’t something you had ever known before, and you look between both women sitting with you. “But…you are healthy now, are you not?”
"Unfortunately, my magic was not what it is now, nor did I have the potions I have." She sighs sadly, knowing that she would have loved a large family but it wasn't to be. "When I healed myself, it was poorly done and I have accepted that my darling Annie will be my only child."
“I’m very sorry to hear that.” The realization that you might have had aunts or uncles comes out of nowhere. It wasn’t something you had ever considered, and now the loss feels something real and tangible. “It’s very generous of you to share your knowledge.”
“I believe that it is my job to care for the potential mates of my husband’s kind.” She murmurs softly. “Especially when they are young, vampires are not aware of their strength, their hunger.”
“Their own strength can surprise even them.” Some of the stories that Max has told you have made that pretty clear. It’s easy for young vampires to get carried away or not realized how far they’re pushing.
“Yes.” She nods, “so it’s safe to say that a strong healer as a partner goes a long way.” Annie cuts her eyes away and doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious she’s not interested in the conversation.
“And a well-rounded witch is an asset to any coven. Especially a strong one.” Trying to include Annie in this feels almost foreboding considering you know what will happen to Emmanuel, but it isn’t your place to say. It isn’t your place to get involved at all.
“Exactly.” Cookie beams in approval, happy that you understand and share her outlook. “Unfortunately, if you don’t use your magic, it tends to be unreliable so practice is always needed.”
“As I have learned.” In fact, it’s something of an understatement. Last night you came so hard that you started shimmering — that had been an adventure.
“So, we will make ourselves some tea, and then we will work on the spells and potions.” Cookie decides.
“I’ll make the tea,” you offer, moving from your seat to the small side table your abuela keeps stocked in the tower with various kinds of tea and a heavy cast iron kettle that hangs over the fire. It’s good practice for you to conjure the water necessary to fill the kettle, and each time you’re proud when it's a little easier.
“Thank you, my dear.” It’s cozy, the three of you. It feels right in a way that she can’t quite describe. Her soulmate has encourage her to spend as much time as possible with you and it is a task she performs happily.
In the quiet of the moment, there is a sinking of your heart. It's less than a week now until the Samhain ball and you and Max have selected that night to travel back to your time — after a few secret test drives of your time travel magic where you successfully jumped a few minutes into the future each time. "I...wanted to speak to both of you." You say finally, looking between them with your hand hovering over the heavy kettle as your magic fills it steadily with water. "If I might?"
Looking up from her own work, Cookie senses that there is something bothering you. Something that you need to get off your chest. She abandons the herbs and motions you to the table. "Of course," she hums quietly. "Whatever you need to say, we will listen."
Rather than abandoning your task, you finish filling the kettle and put it on the heat before sitting down. The time it will take the boil is plenty enough time to tell them what you need to. "Max and I have been talking," you begin, sitting down between them. "And we think we might leave soon to do more traveling."
"Oh?" Cookie raises her brows in surprise and Annie gasps. "A tour of Europe?" She asks, envy and hope in her voice.
"Perhaps." You nod, glad to see that the harmless lie that you and Max devised seems to be so readily accepted. "We thought we might see as much of the world as we can while the house is being built. Though...we do not know how long that will take."
"Travel does take time." Cookie hums, smiling slightly. "It is faster than it used to be. The architect has your plans, and my husband and I will be willing to do any decision making if you would like."
"Max has been working with Mr. Brown on all of the plans, I have faith that he will be able to make any and all decisions necessary." In fact, you and Max had talked over it and decided that you liked Chateau-sur-Mer enough that you were willing to trust Seacliff Castle to your grandfather while you were 'away'.
"Then you must go and not worry yourselves." Cookie tells you. "You can always send a telegram to inquire."
“But that means…” Annie seems to have come to a conclusion all at once, eyes widening and looking stricken. “I know.” You nod slightly, looking sheepish if not managing downright upset. “It means we will be out of country when you get married.” It was, in addition to taking care of the reason you wouldn’t be around much going forward — an incredibly good excuse. European or world tours by the rich were very common in this time and it provided you with a very convenient out so Annie could not invite you to the wedding that will never happen.
"Oh." Her entire frame seems to wither slightly and she nods, even if she is disappointed. She was raised with better manners than that and her mother would be very upset if she caused a scene. "That's...disappointing."
"I'm so sorry, Annie." Disappointing your mother is not on your list of good feelings in the world, and if it weren't that you know how poorly her engagement is going to go, you would be badgering Max to agree to travel back to the wedding day with you.
"We will just have to visit when you come back and I can tell you all about how married life is treating me." She smiles reassuringly at you, reaching out and clasping your hand gently.
"When we come back we will be very nearby," you promise her. Her hand in yours is the ultimate reassurance, and you squeeze it back just as gently. "And you will have to come and see it, of course. We insist."
"I would love that." She promises, nodding quickly. "I would love to see what you and your soulmate design for a home. Max has...inspired taste."
"He certainly has unique thoughts for the house." Every single one of them sounds fantastic to you, if you're honest, but you won't rub it in now that she's upset about you leaving. Instead, as much as it twists you inside, you flip the topic back to her. "And we will be very glad to see where you and Emmanuel have settled."
“Yes…I’m sure there will be quite a bit of travel.” She smiles dreamily. “A working honeymoon.”
"Have you decided yet where you'll live?" Cookie asks, trying her very best to sound nonchalant but actually very deeply invested in the answer.
“We haven’t decided.” Annie admits. “Emmanuel will need to be close to his family for his business but he also wants to be near you and father.”
"That sounds very much like one house in New York and another here in Newport." Thinking of your mother as one of the fashionable New York society set isn't odd to you at all anymore, and in fact it makes you smile. "It sounds very lovely."
“That is what I am hopefully for.” She admits with a small giggle. “But Emmanuel has also talked about a house in San Francisco, when we have to go west.”
"All the more reason to build here as well." Cookie insists. It is such a terribly modern phenomenon for children to move far away from their parents and she dreads the idea of losing Annie entirely. No matter how happy her daughter might be.
“We will be in Newport often, mother.” She assures her mother, although it’s clear that she’s excited for the future. “Emmanuel wishes to work closely with father.”
"I'm sure that will be very good for them both." You make yourself smile, but hop up from your seat to take the kettle off of the fire and pour three cups of tea.
Annie rolls her eyes playfully and huffs but she’s grinning by the time she’s accepting the tea cup. “One can only hope.”
“Drink your tea, girls.” Cookie smiles approvingly, her own cup in hand before the rolling fire. “And then we will begin.”
******
"I'm nervous," you hum, pacing restlessly around the guest room on the third floor of Chateau-sur-Mer with Max mere feet away as he tries and retries to knot his bowtie in the full-length mirror.
"I am too." He admits quietly, his eyes moving from the bowtie to meet yours in the reflection. "Not the time traveling. I know you will get us home, Dolly." He assures you. "I'm nervous about what they will think by us leaving."
“Hopefully they’ll accept that we were too upset for goodbyes.” The letters you’ve written over the last few days — to your grandparents, your mother, to Emmanuel, to Lina Astor, and to Alice and Cornelius Vanderbilt — all laid out that you and Max are taking your tour of the world couldn’t bear the melancholy of saying goodbye. They thank your dear loved ones for hosting you, for their friendship, and for their kindness. They express the want to see these friends again. They are the goodbyes that you know you’ll sob too hard over if you have to say them in person.
"Only your grandfather will know the truth for now." He sighs, turning around and reaching for you. "I know you will miss your mother."
“We’ll come back.” You’ve already decided that, knowing that Max has also made friends here. This is a place and time you both have found surprising comfort in.
"Once we get back, though, I want to go through all the old bird's letters." Max snorts, grinning at you and giving you something to look forward to.
“All of abuela’s letters and all of the clothes in storage.” You could not agree more. “And all the things that Seacliff has undoubtedly been filled with that we still don’t know the stories of.”
"True." He nods and smiles at the excitement that you will have through the mansion that had been built for you.
“That’s what I have to keep telling myself. That we’ll come back, and that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Instinctively, you move across the room again. This time to Max’s arms. “And that I won’t fuck up bringing us home.”
"You won't." He knows this, even if you continuously worry about it. You hadn't really slept last night.
“You have such unshakable faith in me.” Sinking into his arms helps immeasurably, banishing some of the worst thoughts with the cool touch of his hands on your back. Your gown shows just enough of your shoulders and arms that he can touch your back, which was entirely strategic in your part.
"What I don't have is faith in myself." He confesses, watching a frown bloom on that beautiful face of yours. "No faith I won't whisk you away to ravage in you the in gardens." He adds with a smirk and a cocky wink. "Not when my wife will be the most stunning creature at the ball."
"It wouldn't be the first time we've left a party early to tango," you grin up at him and take the moment as a sigh of relief. "Perhaps that's where they'll think we've gone when we disappear tonight. Just ran away to our bed to indulge ourselves."
“It is a good possibility.” He laughs and slides his hands up and down your back. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart? Really? If you want to stay….”
"As much as I want to spend time with my mother? It's time." Having gone over it in your mind several times over the last week, you've weighed the selfishness of wanting to stay with historical side effects, the affect in might have on Max, and all manner of other things, and decided that ultimately it is time to go back to the future. "We'll plan to come back when we start to miss it enough, and then we can be excited for it then."
Max nods. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you, but every day you spend in this time is one that you could possibly alter the future. As much as he would love to right every wrong in your past, he needs to keep his word to your grandfather. “We will make it soon.” He promises.
“Let me…” Reaching up, you tug and finesse his tie into place, offering him a soft smile. “There. We should go down soon.”
“We should.” The good thing about this time is that he can kiss you and there’s no lipstick that will transfer. Making him smirk and bite your bottom lip gently after he steals a kiss. “There. Now they are darker.” He teases.
“When we get home it’s going to be transfer-proof lipstick only.” Mostly because any time he nips at you like that you just want to drag him into bed and ride him into the next day — but that’s beside the point.
“Awww that’s no fun.” He sends you a playful pout before turning and offering his arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Phillips?”
“We shall.” You take his arm, but give it a light squeeze. “I’m going to miss that,” you admit, not afraid to say so one bit.
“Maybe when we get back, we can make it official?” Max asks casually, glancing over at you before looking ahead towards the stairs.
"Maybe, he says, like I'm not going to agree immediately." In fact, you're beaming at him immediately, squeezing his arm under your hand and leaning in to his side. "I'd love that. Almost as much as I love you."
“Yeah?” It’s still something of a novelty for him, to be loved so completely. “Maybe we should do that? Something small? In the gardens?”
“Maybe…” you bite your lip slightly and look up at him when you reach the stairs. “Maybe that would be how we open Seacliff? With a little wedding?”
“Really?” His eyes light up and he nods. “We can do that.” He agrees instantly. “A little wedding and a large ball afterwards?”
"Small wedding, big reception?" It sounds exactly like something the two of you would enjoy, and the way your heart skips a beat is so full of joy. "I think it sounds perfect."
“And I get to haul my wife off for some wedding sex.” Max chuckles.
“Your wife is going to insist on it, actually.” You throw him a wink like he likes to do to you as you descend the stairs together. “The party can go all night and so can we.”
“We will have our own party.” He promises with a grin. “After our waltz, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and haul you out.”
“I have absolutely no doubt about it.” Considering his incredible, supernatural strength? He could probably lift the whole house if necessary. “In fact,” you lower your voice, hearing the sounds on the last-minute party preparations or perhaps the first arrivals on the ground floor. “I’ll be begging for it.”
“You’ll be begging for something else.” He jokes, smirking to himself. “Especially after I very discreetly make you cum in front of everyone.”
“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”
“You are going to grind down on my knee while we dance.” He explains with a smug tone.
"So no giant ballgown." A decisive nod follows the thought and you giggle. "Got it."
“Would you be too disappointed?” Max asks softly. “Otherwise I can have you wear some vibrating panties.”
"I..." Shrugging slightly, your eyes track up to his and you bite your lip again. Wondering if he'll find your honest answer to be too depressing. "I stopped dreaming about my wedding a long time ago. So I'll wear whatever you want me to and we'll have whatever kind of party you want. As long as I get to marry you, I don't care."
Your answer breaks his heart, and it’s not even beating. “Sweetheart…” Max stops the walk towards the ballroom, pulling you into a small alcove and cups your cheeks. “I- I would marry you at city hall. Just you and me. But I want you to start dreaming again. I want you to feel safe enough to dream.”
"I do. I do feel safe enough." And that is entirely because of him. Or ninety-five percent because of him and five very solid percent because of Mrs. Taylor, who you will never disrespect or disobey for as long as your magically prolonged life allows. "I just...all that matters to me is that you're there. But if you want me to dream? Baby, I'll take Allison dress shopping with me so fast your head will spin."
“I want you to do whatever you want. Whatever that looks like.” He admits.
"We'll talk about it when we get back," you promise him. "I'll dream a little and you'll dream a little, and maybe there will be some parts of the balls we've been to that we'll want to keep for ourselves." Even though your hands are in his, you tug him even closer and press a soft kiss to his lips. "For tonight, let's just enjoy our last night in 1885."
“A toast-less toast.” Max declares softly. “To our last night in 1885—” he poses. “May it be as magical as we wish it to be.”
"Literally." Tongue firmly planted in cheek, you kiss him again — longer this time, to seal the toast — and turn back toward the ballroom with resolve.
“Here goes nothing.” Max hums as Mr. Taylor, resplendent in his butler’s garb for the evening, spots you and quickly opens the door to the ballroom. “Now presenting, Mister and Mistress Maximus P. Phillips.”
You know Max enjoys the little bit of fuss and the formality of being announced at balls, but you will never cease to be amused at how he insists on giving a different version of Max to every different butler or attendant no matter where you go. "Oh, my dears." Cookie is the first to reach you, holding out her hands to both of you and positively beaming. "How resplendent you look. Most wonderful. Come in, come in, I have Dolly's dance card here and I'm afraid you've already been asked after by several ladies, Max. You'll both be most sought after tonight."
“As long as you save two dances for my wife.” He insists. “No- three.” He waggles his brows, knowing how much of a scandal that would be. “If it is acceptable to you, of course.”
"I know you like your waltzes." The older woman hums, smiling at the two of you with her maternal pride. She takes the small pencil that she will tie to your wrist along with your dance card and writes Max's name down for three dances before hurrying you both along. "Go, dears. And enjoy yourselves."
“Shall we check the refreshments?” He asks. If you have a cup of lemonade in your hands, you are less likely to be offered champagne.
"Nothing's better than abuela's lemonade." You hum, keeping the abuela part as quiet as possible.
“I know you love it.” Your grandmother insists on making the lemonade for events herself, claiming it is a secret.
"I bet Mrs. Taylor has the recipe." There's no way that Cookie entrusted it to anyone else, and when you reach the punch bowls — one with harmless, regular lemonade and the other with intensely alcoholic punch – you pick up two glasses. "Who else are you planning on dancing with tonight? Besides me and Annie and Cookie?"
“I figured that if Mrs. Astor shows, I will be required to dance with her as well.” Max shrugs. “If they aren’t you, I’m just going through the motions.” He admits quietly.
“At least with Lina we can say some sort of goodbye.” The older woman had promised in her last letter to bring your copy of her grimoire with her to the ball, so you know that she will absolutely be here tonight. “That’s worth something.”
“Yes it is.” Max reaches up and pinches your chin softly. Apparently it’s an acceptable show of affection in this time. “Just no tears, my love.”
“I’ll do my best.” And that’s all you can promise him. Saying goodbye to your family without actually saying goodbye is going to tear your heart out. At least this time you have the solace of knowing you’ll see them again.
“I know.” He hands you the lemonade that he ladles up and gives you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right beside.”
“Don’t you make the picture of domestic bliss.” Yayo’s voice from behind you cuts through the quiet moment, and the smile in his tone is evident. “Have you been looking forward to tonight?”
“Absolutely.” Max turns and greets your grandfather with a firm handshake. “Your wife puts on a spectacular ball.”
“We’re very grateful to be included.” Hugging him would be an inappropriate show of affection since no one else knows this man as your grandfather, so you have to just accept that a warm handshake is as intimate as anything could be.
“There is no reason why you would not be included.” He reminds you as he looks to see Annie and Emmanuel venture closer. “My daughter is very fond of you.” His lips play into an enigmatic smile. “I wonder why that is.”
“It is so very difficult to fathom,” you tease, offering him a mirror of his own mysterious expression. Though yours quickly slides into a grin. “Though one might say our bond is almost…familial.”
“Hmmm.” He nods and lifts a brow. “I was hoping there was still a spot for me on your dance card for tonight.”
“Of course.” If you’re honest? You would have saved him a dance even without your dance card. After all, Yayo has been a champion of your dancing since you were just a toddler. This version of him doesn’t know that though, not yet, so you simply hold out your dance card for him to sign.
“Good.” He smiles happily and pats your arm. “Then I will see you later on.” He nods at Max and quickly disappears.
“We should find Annie and Emmanuel.” Linking your hand around Max’s arm again is comfortable and familiar as the ballroom grows fuller and fuller. “You should take a spot on her card and Emmanuel should be on mine.”
“I believe that is a must.” Max hum, “I would love to dance with my mother in law.” To the unknowing ear, Max would sound sarcastic, but he really means it. He adores your mother and it’s charming to see where some of your habits come from. Even the ones you aren’t aware of.
"We'll make a nice night of it." And then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, you'll disappear. And that will be that.
“We could stay.” Max offers gently. If you wanted to stay in this time, he would be willing. Wanting you to be happy.
"I'm beginning to think you want to stay." He's offered multiple times, and you tilt your head at him slightly. "Is that...why you've offered? Because you would rather stay here than go back?"
“Sweetheart…” Max turns back to you and gives a very human sigh. “You shine around your M and GM,” he decided abbreviating them would be better in public, just in case. “I’ve never seen someone change so much- smile so much, laugh. If being here is what makes that happen, I’ll live without my phone, or laptop.”
"Honey..." Blowing out a deep breath, you take his hand and pull him into the library to get away from the commotion and noise of the ballroom. "Max...honey, if I'm shining here? It's because of how much I love you. How happy you make me. I mean...I love being around my family again. More than I can possibly say. But if you told me that you never wanted to come back here again then I would tell Yayo to stop construction on Seacliff immediately and we would just go back to our time like none of this ever happened. I just...I don't think you feel that way. You shine here, too, Max. I don't know if you realize that."
He huffs, shaking his head slightly. Unsure if that was true. “That would never happen.” He tells you, talking about stopping construction. “I don’t care what time we live, I just want to be with you.”
“Are you happy here?” It isn’t an easy question, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s an important one.
“It’s different, quiet.” He admits. “But I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life. Question for you.” He lifts a brow. “Are you prepared to live through history? Atrocities you know are coming, and not do anything about it?”
“Are we talking world wars, or are we talking about my mother?” Either way, the question makes you pause, biting your lip and looking up at him with curiosity in your eyes. “I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life.,” you echo. “For being a part of the movements that will shape history. I think…I didn’t really understand what Lina meant before — about finding where you belong. But this time is good for both of us.”
“It is.” Max acknowledges. It’s not like he has a lot of close friends in his time. “So what are you thinking? Just stay? Go back and tell Allison?”
“What if…” Chewing on your lip again, you step in closer to him to have your arms around his waist and squeeze his hips slightly. “What if…when it comes time for us to be born…we time travel home again? Live right up to our lifetimes and then get out of dodge so we’re not tempted to check in on ourselves? We were going to time travel the night of the Samhain ball, right? So we can just…do that on the Samhain night before you’re born. Right? We’ll still return at the same time we were going to anyway.”
“That’s-“ he’s struck dumb for a second by the sheer genius of the idea. “Genius.” He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving if he was honest. He’s immortal, he has all the time in the world. But you don’t. “You would have to take my blood.” He reminds you quietly.
“I know.” You nod, letting your arms slip around his waist. “And I’ll start tonight, if you’re okay with that.”
“Are you sure?” He knows that you have still been thinking about regularly taking his blood.
“I told you I wanted to spend my whole life with you,” you remind him, voice quiet in the dim light of the library. “I want it to be the longest life we can possibly have together.”
“I love you too.” He teases quietly, reassured by your words. “Do you want to just enjoy the night or find your grandfather?”
“We should tell him tonight.” As much as you may enjoy his — and Max’s — flare for the dramatic, it doesn’t quite work here. “Otherwise he’ll be expecting to find notes on our pillow in the morning and find us instead.”
“That would be interesting.” Max chuckles and leans in. “Considering you will most likely be asleep on my cock.”
He might be right, but your eyes still widen and you instinctively look around to make sure no one heard him. “You’ve never complained before,” you mumble instead, mild and momentarily embarrassment evaporating when you find yourself still alone.
Max smirks and winks at you. “The Phillips cause a scandal wherever they go.” He teases you quietly.
“It’s too bad we can’t cause a scandal being caught together like this.” It certainly has a particular lure to it now…being alone with him like this. “Too married for that.”
“If we stay, we will have to get married for real.” He whispers. “We will tell them that we will the marriage to be blessed.”
“We’ll have to build a whole life. Work and a marriage and even a family.” It will be a miracle if it happens, and even though you tell yourself not to count on it, there is so much hope in your voice.
“I know.” Max nods and the bites his lip. “We would need to wait for kids though.” He reminds you softly. “Otherwise Cookie and Annie would suspect something.”
He’s right, and you know he’s right, but for now you disguise your disappointment with teasing. “I guess you better work on your pullout game, then, Mr. Phillips. No condoms in the Gilded Age. At least not good ones.”
“Need to find the inventor of the Trojan.” Max grunts before he reaches for your hand. “I love you.”
"I love you, too." That is, after all, the crux of everything. No matter what else changes in your life, no matter what crazy things may come in the years ahead, you will always love Max.
Before you go and find your grandfather, there’s one thing that Max wants to do first. He bows formally and looks up at you with a doting expression. “May I have your first dance, Mrs. Phillips?”
"Mr. Phillips," you set your hand in his and feel your whole heart lift. "I insist on it."
“Just the first of many first dances in this time.” Max promises, beaming at you as he straightens and starts to escort you into the ballroom.
******
Research had commenced in earnest the next morning, with Allison setting up her laptop in the library while Eddie began to methodically look through paperwork to see if Max’s name was on anything older than just a few years ago. Through the power of internet research, though, and a few masterful keyword searches, Allison is frowning at her laptop in no time. “There is a Mr. and Mrs. M Phillips listed as part of Mrs. Astor’s 400,” she reports, glancing up at Eddie a few feet away. “But they don’t have a Wikipedia page, of course.”
“That would make sense.” Eddie calls out, bent over a file. It seems as though his sire, or Cookie, was meticulous at keeping records and as a result, there were thousands of pages to go through. “Although God help us all if Max bent some of the most power men in history ears.” He snorts.
“Can you imagine?” She huffs in amusement and shakes her head, eyes returning to her laptop screen. “Your sire taught you both how to change identity to hide your immortality, right? What would he have said about names and things like that? Maybe I can find a pattern in identities that Max would have used.”
Eddie nods. “Yeah. It’s good to keep it close to what you’ve had before. Will yourself the estate, set up trusts, that kind of thing.” He frowns slightly, thinking of the fact that Allison is very much human. “If they stayed….Dolly would have had to take Max’s blood, right? She wouldn’t have…”
“She would have taken his blood.” Somehow Allison is sure of that. Not just from the small conversations and early curiosity you had shown, but partially her own hopefulness at seeing you again. “If they got stuck, or they decided to stay, or whatever happened, he wouldn’t have done it without her. And she wouldn’t have left him.”
“No.” Eddie agrees. “He did a complete turn around with her. It’s amazing.” He twitches slightly and opens his mouth to bring up something that he has been thinking about. A lot.
“They love each other. It’s sweet.” Allison looks up from her laptop to see Eddie watching her intently and her smile turns soft. “What’s up, babe?” She asks, as easy as if they weren’t discussing the fate of some of their closest friends.
“It’s- probably stupid…” Eddie acknowledges that but he watches the woman he has completely fallen in love with frown at the idea anything he thinks about is stupid. Allison has been wonderful for him and he can only hope that she is half as happy as he is. “But this has gotten me thinking.”
“About what?” She’s sure it’s made him think about a hell of a lot of things, but Eddie doesn’t usually bring something serious up until he’s fully ready to talk about it so she shuts her laptop and gives him her full attention. “Is everything okay?”
“We aren’t soulmates.” The fact they don’t share marks doesn’t matter to Eddie, but for all the time they’ve spent together, he’s not entirely sure that it doesn’t matter to her. “It’s- I love you, no matter if we have matching marks or not. And I- fuck, Allison, I’m a vampire, I’m going to outlive you.” He huffs in distress.
“Of course you are.” She tilts her head, wondering how this is only starting to bother him now. Or if it has always bothered him and he has just never said anything. “You’re going to outlive any lover that’s mortal. But…I mean, I don’t have any weird illusions about it, if that’s what you’re worried about?”
“No, but I—” He walks over and takes her hand. “Do you care that we aren’t soulmates?” He asks seriously.
Allison shifts, making room for Eddie to sit beside her in the spare desk chair. “I really don’t,” she tells him honestly, her fingers threading through his. “I only care that we love each other.”
His smile stretches wide, happy that she had said that. “Then I want you to be with me, longer than your lifetime.”
“Eddie…” It stings slightly, what he’s suggesting — or at least what she thinks he’s suggesting — and she shakes her head. “That…it won’t work for us…me drinking your blood will only work if we’re soulmates. That’s…” Allison puffs out an unhappy breath. “Magic has rules. Whether we like it or not.”
“Let me change you.” Eddie whispers, biting his lip after he offers. “He would approve.” He knows his sire would love to have Allison turned, if he could choose anyone.
“Oh, Eddie—” Even as the breath leaves her, her hands tighten in his. The hope in his eyes - the love - is overwhelming, and she has to admit to herself that she really had not ever expected him to offer. For as much as Eddie loves her and she loves him? They had never breached the topic before. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about it. “That’s…that’s forever, babe. That’s literally forever. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I don’t care about marks, I care about the fact that I love you. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you to sickness, old age, time.” He insists. “I want to walk through history with you like Max and Dolly are doing back in the day.”
“A coincidentally similar name on a list doesn’t confirm anything, she reminds him, but Allison smiles warmly when she reaches up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve been so in love with you for years, you know that. And I just…I never, ever thought we’d get to this place.”
“I’ve been in love with you too.” He admits with a grin. “And once I realized that you felt the same, I just wanted to keep you forever.”
"You really mean that?" There are stories, of course. Stories of witches who traded in their ordinary lives for immortality. Some lost their powers, while some saw their abilities increase threefold. It is a gamble that she would have to be willing to take. But for Eddie? For Eddie? It's possible that Allison would do anything.
“Of course I mean it.” Eddie looks at her lovingly. “I think that I was always meant to love you, soulmates or not. And I will love you until the day I am destroyed.”
"We should talk to your sire before we do anything." Her hands are tight in his, holding on to him and completely unwilling to let go. "Make sure that there aren't any hidden catch-alls that could make things complicated before we...before I...before we take the next step."
“I…might have already mentioned something to him.” Eddie flusters and the fresh blood that he had consumed today causes the blush to cross his cheeks lightly.
"Suddenly you being so sure he won't mind makes more sense," she grins at him, feeling that lift and flutter and her heart that is so frequent with Eddie. "I'm sure he has some kind of...absurdly dramatic moment of revelation between us planned for a conversation about it. And then," Allison's stomach flips with happiness. "And then maybe we can mark the occasion somehow?"
“How would you want to mark the occasion?” Eddie asks softly, knowing that he would give her the world. Wants to give her the world, which he technically would with immortality.
"Maybe we can take a little trip?" After all the planning of the ball, and the immense step forward that this will be, Allison might have a little plan of her own in her head. If Eddie truly wants to give her forever? Then she's going to give him a promise of forever as well. "We'll have a little romantic getaway."
“Of course.” He nods, a little disappointed that he hasn’t thought of that himself.
"But first." Leaning forward, Allison presses a kiss to his lips and smiles, radiating that reassuring energy from herself to him as much as she can. "Let's see if we can find some kind of actual trace of these two weirdos in history. When we get burnt out on historical research, we can plan our trip."
“Right.” It feels like the pressure has been lifted off his chest. “There has to be some sort of clue if Max was there. His ego wouldn’t let him go completely undetected.”
"Possibly unfortunate for history, but fortunate for us." With one more kiss, Allison nudges Eddie back to the finals and opens her laptop once more. "I'm going to check New York City census records for the last name Phillips in the 1880s. If they were part of the 400, there will be traces of them somewhere."
Eddie tilts his head in confusion for a moment. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “The 400! Mrs. Astor’s list right?” He rushes back over to a book and grabs it before hurrying back over to Allison. Preferring not to use his vampiric speed to not scatter papers around the room.
"It's such a New York thing to have a famous list of fashionable people." She would roll her eyes over it if it wasn't proving so useful at the moment. "What do you have?"
“I actually have a list of attendees to a wedding brunch.” Eddie flips through the pages and frowns. “That’s strange, it says that the couple was already married but wished to have a celebration with friends and family.” He looks up at Allison. “Did that happen often?”
"Sometimes." She chews her lip between her teeth as he opens the journal from the library's files and sets it out in front of her. "I guess sometimes people did small church weddings and then large breakfast or brunches as receptions. Queen Victoria had a wedding breakfast and she pretty much set the standard for everything fashionable in the 1800s."
“Of course she did.” Eddie isn’t as keen on history as you and Allison, so he will have to take her word on it. “Night is better. At least to me. So you can have a garden filled with fairy lights.”
"Fairy lights at night sounds perfect." Snuggling into his side at the desk, Allison starts reading the page with a hum. The list is enormous, but there are familiar names on it. Mr. and Mrs. John Brown, Anne Brown, Mr. and Mrs. William Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. Ogden Goelet, Mr. and Mrs. George Wetmore, Mr. and Mrs. William Watts Sherman. The list just goes on and on. "A lot of these are people who eventually had houses here in Newport." Humming softly as her finger skims the page, Allison gasps when she hits two thirds of the way down the page. "Baby, baby, look at this! The bride's name – it's Dolly!"
Eddie’s eyes widen when he sees your name and then he snorts. “Maxium Edward Phillips.” He huffs as he reads the grooms name. “That’s fucking hilarious. Considering his name is just Max. Not short for anything. And his parents didn’t give him a middle name.” He tells Allison. “He hated that he didn’t have a middle name.”
"His parents sound like they suck," Allison huffs in return. She sits back in the chair though, looking between Eddie and the book on the desk in front of her. "That's...fuck, that's our answer. They got married. They had friends. They made a life. They...they must have stayed."
“So…does that mean that they aren’t coming back tomorrow?” Eddie asks, frowning slightly at the idea that he would never see you or Max again.
"That's what he said and I don't know that he would lie about it." Eddie's sire may be enigmatic and highly dramatic, but as far as she knows he's not a liar. He had said that everyone would be reunited at the Samhain ball and they didn't really have any reason to doubt that. It was just trying to find out what had happened to you and Max in the meantime that was so important.
“Interesting.” Eddie hums, and shrugs. “Then we will continue to believe they will show up to the ball.”
"And in the meantime." Reaching for the book once more, Allison pulls it into her lap and leans back in Eddie's arms with a noise that sounds a whole lot like the contented purr of a house cat. "I'm going to read all about their wedding reception."
“Read it aloud, babe.” Eddie sinks his fingers into her hair and starts to massage her scalp lovingly. “I want to know what to make fun of Max for and what we might want to steal.”
______
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Goodbye (Vincent de Gramont x reader)
Note: A follow-up drabble for this.
For all you knew, Vincent hadn’t signed the papers before you left him for good. You could only hope he would come to his senses and do it before your lawyer arrived the next day, but either way, you knew he would do it once he accepted you weren't coming back.
You were heading to your seat in first class, already sipping a glass of champagne like you always did during these flights. But today you truly needed some alcohol. Yes, it was you who left him, but it still hurt to know it was over. You wanted to make it work, you truly did your best to accept him with every flaw of his, but you reached a dead end with him.
While the other passengers began to arrive, you pulled out your ebook reader and dived into the book you had begun to read a few days ago. It was a romance novel, although there were comedic elements that made it truly entertaining. It was nice to get lost in a world where a relationship was working and everyone was happy.
One of the flight attendants suddenly began to explain that there will be an unexpected delay, but you didn't make much of it until it was announced that the flight was cancelled and everybody had to get off of the plane. A mechanical issue, they said. But you had a bad feeling, that maybe it wasn't entirely true.
A man your age you had met on the plane kept you company as you made your way back, but you choked on your carefree laughter when your eyes landed on Vincent. You should have known, the whole last minute mechanical failure was so fake in retrospect. They would have known sooner, not two minutes before take off.
“Who is he?” he demanded, his eyes fixed on the poor guy on your side. “I thought you said you weren't seeing anyone.”
“I'm not seeing anyone, we only met on the plane.”
The man next to you shifted uncomfortably before saying, “I'll leave you two alone.”
“Thanks. Good luck with the wedding,” you told him with a warm smile, even waving as he walked away.
Your back was to your dear husband, and you were thinking about leaving him there. You didn't want to talk to him. There was absolutely nothing to talk about. Well, except for two things–the cancelled flight and the divorce papers.
With a sigh, you turned around and gave him a tired look. “Did you have anything to do with the cancellation of my flight?” you asked as you stepped a little closer.
“I can't just let you go like this, I had to do something,” was all he said, as if it was perfectly normal. “I won't sign those papers either. I love you. I don't want you to leave me.”
“Vincent, it's over. I don't want anything from you anymore.”
He bit on his lower lip before putting his hands on his hips and turning away for a moment. You could tell it truly hurt him. That wasn't your intention, you always hoped he would take it well. But he clearly didn't. All of a sudden you felt guilty for doing this to him.
But no, you couldn't give in. You couldn't let him manipulate you and make you stay somehow. The only direction you were willing to go from this airport was New York. Or hell, any other city in the States as long as you could leave. Paris was beautiful, but it wasn't your home anymore.
“Just one more night,” he suddenly said. “Stay for one more night and think it through.”
With a sigh, you put your hand on his arm as you stepped closer. “I'm not going anywhere with you. I loved you, I truly did, but it's over. Sign the papers. Please,” you asked him.
Silence fell between you, but you could tell he was about to say something. He probably wanted to object, but he didn't speak up because he now knew you wouldn't stay. But then he took a deep breath and said, “If you ever change your mind, if you want to come back, I'm here. I'll be waiting.”
Smiling at the thought, you stood on your toes and softly kissed him. “You deserve someone who loves you. I'm not that person anymore.”
“I'll miss you, love” he told you as he pulled you into a tight hug.
#marquis de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont x reader#marquis vincent de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont#marquis vincent de gramont#marquis de gramont#john wick 4#jw4
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Baba Yaga Task force 141 X John Wick! reader
Tw: animal abuse, references to pregnancy, mention of miscarriages, blood, gore, violence, death
Gender neutral uses Mx for Mr/ Mrs it’s gender neutral.
Married life— you never saw that for yourself. You also never saw yourself fall for a military man. It almost feels like a sick joke. An unsanctioned killer meeting a legal one is a sick joke.
You met him on a work trip, honestly how you two got each other’s phone number was quite the funny ordeal. You met in line to be seated, turns out he was your seatmate. You gave him no mind, occasionally you two would give each other nods.
You notice him at the same hospital you. You were on a mission, and he had a bullet wound. Your eyes lock and life continues. With one of your work friends, you have noticed him in a group across the restaurant from you. You locked eyes, a strange thought passed between us, why are you here?
The last straw was sitting at your window seat only to hear a low “bloody hell.” You look up to find him again. You couldn’t help but laugh. This is ridiculous.
“I see you again stranger,” you smile. He scratched his head mumbling some more and sitting down.
“What’s your name?” You ask as he sits down next to you.
“Simon, you?”
“[Name], nice to meet you.”
You two had to exchange numbers, it was too coincidental. You only talk for a few minutes before going back to your own devices. You kept getting more job requests. With a sigh you picked on in England, you were heading there so might as well do a job there.
You two didn’t talk for a few months, you honestly forgot he existed. He texted you out of the blue, it was small and simple. It was a short conversation. Never too long never too deep. Occasionally when you were in England and so was he you meet up for coffee or tea.
It was casual— situational. You saw nothing long-term with him, not even a romantic relationship maybe just acquaintances. Two years— every six or more months you two would have a small conversation. Two years of on and off, before it got really serious. Before he got serious.
It was like a dam had broken loose. You answer your texts, more often. You two ended up calling too. It was fast a tumble and the relationship roared to life. It was all in a span of three months.
He moved in with you— into your expensive New York home. He brought his dog with him, Riley, a cute German shepherd. A well-trained one. Living with Simon, you learn one thing for sure— he’s a man of routine. He established on quickly.
We kept our jobs private and our relationship on the download. It took him a few months to mention his work— it was in passing that you learned he’s a special operator in the military. You are a traveling art appraiser.
You two both agreed, that work is something we don’t talk about. It was another three years of quiet dating both heavily busy. He was gone for months sometimes better half of a year, which was perfectly fine for you, you’re busy too. Very busy. It was five years into your relationship did he brought up marriage. He’s… joining a dangerous task force and wants to seal the deal.
You said yes— but before you could plan the wedding, you had to leave the game. Leave the underworld. The continental and the high table won’t let you go so easily. You’ll have to pay a debt. Before the two weeks were up you must complete an impossible task— kill the three most prominent underworld leaders. With one blood oath later, you were free.
Free from being the Baba Yaga.
Free from being Wick.
Free to marry.
Free to be a doting partner for Simon.
By the time you come back, you already started doing venue shopping for the wedding. You both agree to a private wedding with just your friends, he had none who are civilians, and he chose to keep his career away from you.
The wedding was sweet. Private with less than fifty people attended. The wedding ring barrier is Riley obedient and sweet carrying the pillow with the rings. You chose the rings, they’re thin and plain something that denotes marriage but also could be simply overlooked as accessories. The world didn’t need to know you two were married just you two.
You became a Riley. You didn’t want your old name— not the name of a killer. Neither did he, but you made it clear, you were happy to have his last name. And he was happy to live in your house. He had a slight chip on his shoulder— he wanted to provide for everything.
You came to a compromise. He pays for most of the housing utilities and you pay for the house tax. His money is the family’s money and yours was yours— and the children’s. You didn’t argue on that— you both know he could quit his job and you two could live rather comfortably on your money. But you could clearly tell providing made him very happy.
It’s what made him feel worthy… worthy of you.
Three years of marriage and most of the time he was away, always on the clock even on break. Only a few people in his line of work knew you existed, a CIA agent and his captain. No one else. And that was fine with you.
Retirement life is great. You spent most of your time figuring out what you wanted to do with your millions. Three years in and the two of you were considering starting a family. A few children would be too bad, You’re retired and Simon has mentioned retiring from the military, no time soon but in time for raising kids. You never consider raising kids. Hell, you never consider marriage or leaving the underworld life.
“My love,” you turn to see Simon setting his military bag down and rushing to you for a hug. “How have you been?” He murmurs.
“Not much Sí just wondering where I put the nursery.” You hum. From the backyard, you hear Riley storming into the living room and jumping onto Simon.
Life was blissful slow and trouble-free.
Until you decided to walk the street with Riley. Coming back from your surrogate who’s 3 months pregnant, lovely woman. Simon would bring his military friends over— forced by his team. You’re are very surprised, how strange this is but you don’t mind the new guess.
As you walk down the street at night Riley on highly guarded. You weren’t scared and had your gun in hand. Simon insisted you get gun training. Something to do with his pass. He only said he lost everyone he cared dearly and he did not want to lose you too. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you already knew how to shoot a gun.
You kept your mouth shut, he took some pride in protecting you— thinking he was protecting you. Why would you take that away from him? His sense of peace and duty? You didn’t mind playing into his fantasy. It’s rather cute seeing him be all protective, you never had that in your life until now. It was everything you wanted— to be wanted. You even got your concealed license to lessen his stress. Playing the perfect spouse was very… peaceful— heavenly really.
Riley’s sharp bark regains your attention. You look up to see a group of men running into the alleyway. You step into the shadows and hope to avoid them. They were speaking in Russian.
“What the hell man! You killed a Pregnant woman!” You froze and looked at them silently.
“She got in the way,” one brash boy sneers.
They continue to argue about killing the woman— they were only meant to rob her. Riley stayed silent but he was ready, ready to fight. You hear them stumbling closer, you make a loud noise and walk from the darkness.
This has nothing to do with you— your eyes caught something. That purse— just like your surrogate. You look at all of them up and down, at the stolen items in their hands. You recognize them all.
Your heart breaks.
That lovely woman— Anne. They killed Anne and your baby.
“What you looking at?” One points their gun at you. Riley begins to bark at them sneering and snarling his teeth at them.
“You killed Anne,” you mutter silently. You picked the surrogate— a friend of a friend. She was so happy to help you two. A thanks for helping her get het out of an abusive relationship. She had her life ahead of her.
With one swing at you, Riley jumps up and latch onto the arm. Another shot Riley in the stomach. You swing hard, mind going blank as your training kicks in, systematically each of them out. Breaking their hands, arms, and neck. You didn’t feel like letting them live.
Once you were done you pulled out your phone and called for a reservation for dinner. You left the coins on the body and ran home to get your car and take Riley to the vet.
Simon is not going to be happy, about this. About his dog, about our surrogate, about the baby. That is not the news he needed. But you called, he deserves to know.
“What’s wrong love?” He answer his tone tired and muddled. Evidently, you woke him up.
“I have bad news,” you begin.
He couldn’t come back early, he was deployed in a foreign country. The news was bad and you know Simon would be worried until he gets back. More for you— he’s worried about your feelings. Sweet man.
He liked Anne. She was bubbly and kind. Happy to be a surrogate and a babysitter if needed. A friend’s friend. He wasn’t so sure about her but you could tell she had grown on him. She was a surrogate a few times.
The funeral was shocking. The culprits never caught— of course, they wouldn’t, you handle it. You called your contacts and told them to leave the bodies out for the police to find— victims of a gang shootout. You have Anne’s remaining family and a small sense of peace.
A week passes and you continue to look for another Surrogate. Adoption came to mind, you were adopted. Not by the best people— they used you like a child soldier… so be it. Your child will be happy, you promise them that.
Would Simon consider adoption?
Does he even want children after this… mess?
You checked in on Riley his wounds were recovering nicely. You rest in your bed sleeping soundly. Your husband be back in two days.
The loud sharp squeal of Riley awoken you to a house of eerie cold silence. You scramble to your feet and go looking for Riley, maybe he opened up his wound. You appear at the top of the stairs to see— that bastard.
“Arseni.” You called out coldly in Russian, as you slowly descended down the steps. Once a brother in arms, a friend, now he’s in your house beating your dog.
“Mx. Wick,” his thick Russian accent twists into a cold sneer as he inches closer to you. “You killed my son!” He screams in Russian. You cock your head to the side, as one of his men kicks Riley to the side. He let out a loud whimper and crashed into the ground. Unmoving and still.
Your cheeks feel like a molten and a burning hell fire seers into your cheek. You clench your hands until your knuckles turn white. Your nose flares, lips pull back into a sneer. You stared at Arseni, ready to punch him.
A sharp pain seers into your abdomen as one of his followers shoots you, three rush forward with metal bats and begin to beat you. You let out a low groan as the metal left large bruises on your right side. Your head rings out in agony as one hit you in the head. Your vision blurs violently as it slowly goes blotchy and red.
You kick one of them and rush to the kitchen pulling out knives and trying to get to a hidden gun in the cabinet. The three ran after you, hitting you in the back with their bats. You stumble forward crashing into your marble counter.
Your bloody broken hands grab onto a knife and violently slash the person behind you, cutting one of their neck. You grab him by the back of his head jab the knife up into his neck and watch as the life dies in his scared eyes. You threw his body at the nearest attacker and went for the other.
You shove the knife into his torso and repeatedly punch the man in the face, breaking his nose with the second punch. Blood spewed out like a faucet.
Pew!
A bullet rips through your right biceps and into the side of your cheeks. Before losing momentum. You spat the bullet out and shoved the man in your arms against the last attack. As you did so you repeatedly stabbed the bloody man in your fist in the neck. Blood shoots onto your chest, staining your white shirt red.
You rip the knife out of his neck and face the last attacker. You plunge the knife right into his right eye and he crumbles onto the ground. You stop for a second, breathing hard as your lungs burn from the lack of air. You never stop working out, but your skills truly did become rusty. You rush to the cabinets and retrieve the gun.
You’d tumble back to the living room, your house trashed and photos burning in the middle of the expensive rug you bought. Your lips are pulled into a sharp frowning sneer. You flip the coffee table over smothering the fire pit. You stumble to your dog, Riley whimpers as you touch him, he is alive.
You grab your keys and rush Riley back to the vet, for immediate care. You left him there overnight. As you drive back your body is bruised and sore. As you drive back a car crashes into yours.
“That’s yer hoose?” Soap gawks at the large modern sleek design of the house. It’s large with a large yard— how the bloody hell did Simon afford this?
Gaz pressed his face against the window a wide smile on his face, it was a beautiful home. Price also stared, it was so American in design. It looks like a nightmare to defend with all those windows.
“My partner bought it,” Ghost grunts. His brows knit together as he saw the front door wide open, the window around the door shattered and broken.
“What the fuckin’ hell—“ he floored the car to the garage and rushed out and into his house. His living was a mess blood and dents in the wall.
“[name]!” He shouts. Silence greets him back, and his heart stops. “Riley!” Not even his dog was around.
“What the fuckin’ hell happened here?” Gaz asks slowly walking into the ruined house. Besides the mess, he could tell this house was beautiful, expensive, and enviable.
“Whit hav we got here?” Soap mutters walking deeper into the house his accident seeping into his worried tone.
“Ghost!” He shouts, seeing the three dead men in the kitchen. Ghost tore into the room and froze, his heart sunk and he rushed in checking to see if anyone was his love. They weren’t. He looked around the room and noticed that the cabinet with the hidden gun was open. He looked in, the gun was gone.
Ring ring!
He booked it to his landline a retro thing that you insisted on keeping. He lifts it to his ears.
“Is this… [name]?” A woman asks.
“No, I’m their husband,” Simon states.
“Your dog Riley just came out of Surgery, you can pick him up later today.”
Ghost signs and sets the phone down. The lady had no idea where you went after you dropped off Riley. She did tell him you were covered in blood and looked beaten up. You had refused their help to call the police. His dog is safe— but you were gone, gone with the wind.
What is going on?
His house is messed up. These random bodies are in his house. His spouse missing! What is going on?
His heart bounds violently against his chest as his heart falls. Where where you? Where were you taken? His worst nightmare came true— losing you. His hands slightly shake and he lets out a long sigh.
“You ok mate?” Gaz asks touching him on his shoulder.
“My partner is missing.” Ghost simply states. He walked to the garage, your car was gone. Your really nice vintage car is gone. His brows furrow together as anxiety sets in.
Ghost walks back into his house and pulls out his phone to call you. He hears the faint ring of your ringtone upstairs. The second floor was normal, with no destruction. In your shared room the lamp was still on, and blankets were thrown to the side.
He walked back downstairs trying to think. His eyes widened and he pulled his computer out. Sometimes he forgot about the security cameras he hid in this house, in the panic he had forgotten he set them up. The task for gather around to see what’s going on.
Simon’s blood rushed away from his cheeks, and he paled at the sight. His love, his light being beaten to a bloody pulp on the floor by some thugs. He switches cameras to the kitchen and to his shock he witnesses you kill all three. He could have mistaken the first kill as an accident. But the others look calculating, methodical— you could fight?
He hadn’t brought up self-defense classes yet. He wanted to, just in case his job would affect you and the baby…
“Damn, they can fight,” Gaz mumbled with awe. He switches back to the living room camera and watches as you flip the dining room table over to put out the fire scoop up Riley and drive off.
“I didn’t know your spouse could speak Russian,” Price mumbles rubbing his chin.
“Neither did I,” Ghost furrowed his brow. What were you hiding?
Ring ring.
Ghost stands up and answers the phone, his heart falls into the pit into the pit of his stomach. His hands slightly tremble, your prize car was found run off the road in a hit-and-run, and you were nowhere to be found.
“Mx. Wick,” you look at the concierge of the continental Hecate and smile politely. It took a few hours to get to the Continental Hotel.
“Make me a dinner reservation,” you calmly state. You had to get rid of the bodies in your house before your husband got home. She smiles and nods and makes the call for your residence.
You slide a coin over, “I like a room,” she smiles and nods setting a room up for you. You left the hotel and moved down the sketchy alleyway until you found an Asian restaurant. You knocked on the door as an old man appeared— a doctor.
“Doctor,” you greet.
“Mx. Wick,” he greets back letting you in. He was a black-market doctor. He patched you up and you limp back to the continental and heading back to sleep nicely.
You had asked Hecate to set up a meeting with the manager, Bereket Gerhold, you needed him to set up a meeting with Arseni. You sign close the curtains and go to sleep.
You’ll call Simon once this is all over. He must be worried. You aren’t the type to leave him— in the dark. He’s probably worried sick… you weren’t planning on leaving him high and dry after bringing his work friends over. How embarrassing, what a mess. You hope he didn’t find the bodies, how do you explain that? Any of this? You have a sleepless night.
Simon stared at the CCTV. He’s in shock, your Ford Mustang Mach 1, was slammed into violently by a black Mercedes. He watched it over and over again. How the Mercedes shoved your prized car out of the frame and into an abandoned warehouse where the cameras were long broken.
A bus came around. There was nobody left behind, just blood and broken car parts. Ghost caught a glimpse of the logo, the Continental Hotel. He thanks the police and leaves the station to find his team waiting for him.
“Where ur we gonna go?” Soap asks as Ghost reapproves the care.
“The continental hotel,” he states gruffly.
“There’s one in New York City, mate,” Gaz spoke up after looking up the hotel.
They drove off. Ghost had been to the hotel, he had seen it here and there. It’s an international hotel, for the rich. What were you doing there? He knows you’re rich but why go to a hotel and not the hospital? Not call him?
It’s late when they arrive at the continental. They walked in and people turned to them. They were outsiders— out of place. They ignore them and continue to walk to the front door.
“May I help you?” A woman asks.
“I want to know if my spouse is here.” Ghost firmly states.
“Name?” The woman asks.
“[name] Riley.”
“We have no one under that name.”
“…[Name] Wick.” The woman stops and looks up at him before a pleasant smile graces her lips. She picked up a phone and called someone. Simon felt his heart race, you were here.
“There are guests down here for you,” the woman says. She nods and hangs up. She handed over a key and told him the room number.
You sigh and stare at the door. Simon will be here soon. You change out of your bloody clothes and into a bathrobe. You chuck your bloody close into the bathtub.
You freeze and look at the door. The door handle slowly turns. You frown as a woman walks through the door a gun in hand. Arseni must have put a price on your head.
“Cordula,” you greet politely. “Wrong room?”
“Right room,” she pulls out her gun you just manage to dodge the bullet. You lunge at her wrestling her to the ground. She knees you in the groans a few times but you don’t let go slamming her back repeatedly into the ground.
She wrestled her hand free and shot you in the shoulder. You wince and let go of her. You back off holding your left shoulder. The door burst open and you see the burly body of your husband. He froze, seeing Cordula with a gun. Before she could even move to point it at him he had her on the ground pinned.
“Soap!” He calls in a Mohawk man steps in and switches places with him.
“My love!” He pulls you into a deep hug. He mumbles worriedly into your ear, “Why aren’t you at the hospital?” He pulls slightly away to gaze at your face. Touching it with tender care and love.
His eyes widen as he notices the blood oozing from your left shoulder. Something hit you in the side and you fall into his arms someone from outside of the hotel shot you in the side. Simon grabbed you and rushed you away from the window and out of the room.
“Shit,” you grumble in more pain. Now both sides of your torso have a gun wound.
“Gaz call the police—“
“Don’t.” You snap. You stagger to your feet and knock on the door next to your room. A familiar man answered it.
“Mx. Wick,” he greets everyone shocked, “are you working again.”
“No, can I narrow your phone?” You ask politely and a little curtly. Velimer steps aside and lets you in.
You call Hecate and tell her of the situation of the attempted murder on the continental ground by Cordula and the assassin out of the continental. She was understanding but a little dismissive.
“My husband almost called the police, I advise you to solve this, also summon the doctor to the continental I’ll be at the bar.” You hang up and give a curt nod to your neighbor.
“Let’s go downstairs,” you tell your husband and his friends.
“What do we do with her?”
“Bring her along the continental will deal with her.” You stagger off to the elevator. Simon snapped out of his shock and moved to support you even though you couldn't stand.
“You need to go to the hospital now.” He urges worry laced into his tone. You needed to tell him the truth but where do you begin? What do you say? How do you explain the madness of the underground crime world to an outsider?
Hecate was waiting for you when the elevator door opened. She took Cordula and you know her life is at an end. You stagger off to the bar. Your husband frowns watching as the strange concierge takes your attacker away.
Why were you so calm? What is going on? Why aren’t you going to the hospital? So many thoughts run through his mind as he chases after you.
“Love,” he calls out, “you need to go to the hospital, not the bar.”
“Relax—“
“You are bleeding!” He snaps not directly at you but at the whole situation. He’s stressed and very on edge. The one thing he spent years trying to protect is injured and he has no idea why. How wasn’t safe, this hotel isn’t safe, sure the hospital would be safer than here.
“Simon,” you sigh, he wouldn’t understand, “I am the safest here.” He looks at you strangely and watches as you walk to the bar.
Ghost stared at your staggering shuffle. Why were you acting so strange? He turns around to turn to his team. They had the same look. The strange woman comes back and Ghost approaches her.
“What is going on?”
“What do you mean?” She asks politely.
“Why did she attack my spouse?” He asks in a low dark tone. The woman pursed her lips before breaking into a smile.
“Codula broke the rules—“
“What rules?” Soap steps toward.
“The rules of the continental.” The woman smiles.
An old staggering man rushes into the hotel, the clerk points towards the bar and he waves rushing by with a man old fashion doctor's bag.
“Who’s attacking my spouse?”
“Have they not told you?” The woman leans forward. Ghost looks down at her tag, Hecate. She smiles.
Ghost backed up and b-lined it to the bar. He found you sitting in a recliner getting your shoulder wound checked out.
“My love,” he calls out his tone shaky but stern. You look with tired eyes and his heart aches in pain. You look so exhausted and tired. Are you scared?
“Who’s attacking you?”
“His name is Arseni Anastas—“
“The Russian mafia boss!” His eyes widen. He rushes over grabbing your hand gingerly and with care.
“What happened?” He searches your eyes with a worried expression. Your calm gaze didn’t help ease him, were you just petrified that you just couldn’t comprehend what was going on?
You calmly pull out a cigarette which is something you do only in times of stress if the furrowed brow deepens. You took a puff and blew out the smoke.
“Simon,” you softly stare leaning your forehead against his. “What I will tell you will change your opinion of me forever, you might hate me, you might want to leave me, but can you promise me you’ll listen?” You ask holding your pinky out for a promise.
“Promise,” he utters linking his pinky with yours.
“I am a former hitman. Arseni Anastas is targeting me because I recently killed his son, who killed our surrogate and child.” You answer with a concise tone.
He bolts up and takes a walking lap around you and the doctor who moved down to your torso to clean the wound. He looked at you before looking away there was a pained look in his gaze.
“Why didn’t you walk away?” He finally asks.
“Anne didn’t deserve to die like that,” you state taking another drag of the cigarette, “besides I found those fuckers after they did it. They weren’t remorseful.” You hum.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t realize it was Arseni’s bastard son… still would have killed him.” You hum. The doctor finishes up and you hand over a gold coin. He gives you a nod before hustling away.
“Would you and your friends like drinks?” You turn to your passing husband.
“Don’t run away from this conversation—“
“I’m not Simon, but I hate for your friends to stand around clueless. So let me get them some drinks and you can collect your thoughts before we talk again.” Your state.
Ghost and look at you eyes widening, Are you always this commanding? It’s so different. You used to go with the flow. He watches as you walk out of the bar dragged his team to the bar and paid for their first few drinks.
They sat at the counter giving you two some space. You got Simon some whisky and sat it down on the table and sat on the recliner again. You gesture to the other seat and Simon sat down.
“How long?”
“I’ve been one my entire life raised in this— economy.” You hum taking in another drag of the cigarette and letting the smoke set in your lungs before breathing it out.
“When did you quit?”
“Right before our wedding.” He stared at his glass of whisky. He couldn’t look at you.
“You lied about your job—“
“It’s my part-time job,” you correct, “it wasn’t a lie just not the full truth.” He down the drink and look you in the eyes. There was nothing but betrayal in his gaze. How could he ever trust you again?
“Is that where you got all this… blood money?”
“… Naturally.” He felt his gaze burn into your face searching for humanity. You like to look away but that is cruel for him, he deserves to know.
“So my dog was hurt because of you.” You take a sip of your bourbon and sigh. You feel the divorce coming.
“Arseni’s son…. Would have mugged me either way and you trained Riley to defend me, he would have gotten hurt either way. I saw red that night and killed him and his friends.”
You look into his pained eyes. He could barely look at you. You set your drink barely drink on the table and leaned in. Letting the smoke of your preferred poison ruin your mind for a microsecond.
“Simon, they broke continental rules trying to kill me.” You tilt your head and stare at him, “I am more dangerous than Arseni.”
You stand up and look at his friends before turning back to Simon, “Go home, let me handle this.”
“Are ye crazy,” the two of you turn around to see the Mohawk one, Soap was it… yelling “Ghost yer gonna let them do ‘is by themselves?” You turn back to your husband, Ghost? He looked at you.
“What’s your plan?” Simon asks after a moment of silence. You know he worked hard on controlling his emotions, he didn’t want to be like his father.
“I’m going to have a meeting with Arseni, he leaves me alone or I kill him.” You state. He frowns, that wasn’t a plan.
“Do you know what you're doing?”
“Yes, Sí I’ve been killing far longer than you, do you know what you're doing?” I ask. Not to be condescending but as a warning. He looked at you, you didn’t know to ask condescending questions, so he didn’t take it as that.
“And how do you know he won’t shoot you before the meeting.”
“You can’t kill on continental ground.” You state. They all look at you strangely. They all had the same look, what kind of rule is that?
“Surely you do realize the underground world is far older than your government? Then your military? Then the political wars? I live in a world of honor and regulations. I am the safest here.” You reiterate your words from before. You could see realization dawn on his face.
“How are you going to… kill him? What if he stays here permanently? You won’t be able to kill him,” Simon states.
“Well… your CIA friend must be looking for him. Either I get him or your government gets him.”
“So you're using us—“
“Don't overthink it, love,” you said looking down at him, “my other plan was to scorch the earth. Originally I was going to hunt him down… personally that’s still my preferred method but I like to end this as on as possible.”
“Damn Ghost yoo found yourself a spitfire!”! Soap cheers which earned him a glare.
“Oh,” your turn back to Simon. “I owe a Blood Oath to an Italian mobster.”
“What does that mean?” He leans back folding his arms. He’s guarding himself from you.
“If he comes to find me, I must do what he asks. It is a blood debt.” You state firmly.
“And why do you owe him one?”
“Because I left this life to marry you.” You state which took him by surprise.
“Can we talk in the lobby?” Simon asks setting his empty glass down. The confusion was gone and he made up his mind, or at least he came to redemption.
You two walk into the semi-quiet lobby the air conditioning drowning out some of the muttering of other people. A few turn to you, of course, they did. You two found a small corner to stand and talk.
“…why didn’t you tell me?” That was all he could say.
“I didn’t want to chase you away.” You honestly tell him. He cups your face rubbing his thumb tenderly against your cheeks.
“I wish you told me before all this.”
“This is pretty last minute.” He slightly cracks a smile.
“Let me help you.” He murmurs pulling you into a hug.
“I don’t want you getting hurt.” You mutter back.
“[name] I can’t know you're doing something dangerous without me… I can’t lose you, too.” You pulled you close and kissed your lips tenderly. As you pull away you see the manager walking in.
”[name],” you pull away and he turns around to look at the older man. He’s in his 50s or 60s by the look of him.
“Berket,” you greet walking up to him.
“And what do I owe the pleasure of Mx. Wick?” He asks with a fond smile.
“Set up a meeting with Arseni, I like to chat.” You fold your arm.
“Why?”
“Simply we need to chat,” he stared into your eyes before nodding.
“You must be their husband,” Berket turns to Simon with a strange smile looking up and down.
Ghost felt his body tense under his gaze. He gently grabs onto your arm protectively. He didn’t like this man, how he talked to you like you were a child. It infuriated him.
“They did quite a lot to leave this life for you, an almost impossible task.” He walks past and towards Hecate.
“What does he mean, love?” He asks softly still holding onto your arm. His grip travels down and he laces his fingers with yours.
“To leave this world you must do something major, most can’t do the task that is asked of them. I was able to, after getting help— the blood Oath.” You explain.
“You’re not truly out are you?” He mutters pulling you into a hug once more.
“Not fully, once I finish that blood Oath I will be.”
“Are you sure?”
“I hope so.” He frowns as he studies your face.
“What did you get us into?” He murmurs before lifting your chin to kiss you deeply.
“Us?” You ask.
“Us.”
“Who knows,” you murmur.
“Let’s get back to the others and figure out an actual place,” he takes you by the hand and walks back for the bar. “And we can get you some clothes later.”
You blink a few times before chucking, “I forgot I was wearing a robe.” He chuckles and you find the three chatting with the bartender.
“Is there a private place to talk?” He asks me.
“Go get them and I’ll talk with Hecate.” You hum. As you turn to leave he didn’t immediately let go he looked at you longingly before slowly letting go. He watched you leave.
You approach Hecate, “I need to use your armory.”
“Why?”
“Need a quiet and safe place to talk with my husband and his colleagues, my hotel room isn’t safe.” She froze for a second before smiling.
“Of course.”
“Will you also bring me a new suit?” You ask. She nods. You turn around to see all four men walking towards you.
Hecate walked us to the vault and the men froze gazing at the wall-to-wall guns on display and a nice couch in the middle. You sit down on the couch, your husband joining you. The other leaned Against the wall or checked out the guns.
“Why so many guns?” One asks. The other one, besides Soap, pulled out a cigar and began to smoke.
“Safety protocols.” He turns to you confused.
“So the plan?” The cigar man asks.
“Arseni Anastas leader of the Russian Mafia will be coming here for a meeting with me, with the help of the manager,” you start.
“We can contact Laswell to see if they are looking for him,” Simon speaks up.
“We can call the police swat team—“
“We bought them out,” you state interrupting Soap.
“The FBI will have to send their people, people who have nothing to do with this hotel chain or this world.” You state fiddling with the helm of your robe.
“So this place is highly corrupt?” Cigar man asks.
“Completely.” You state looking at all of them. The room grew silent as each began to think.
“Can’t you just kill him?” Soap asks.
“I can but not on continental grounds. I’m bound by rules.” He nods.
“Let’s contact Laswell, she might have a plan.” They nod. The cigar man pulled out his phone and began to call someone.
“So…” the dad cap man begins, “is the… Baba Yaga real?” He asks.
“Yeah is he?”
“Gaz, Soap,” Simon said sternly.
“What?” Dad Cap asks, “If their other hitmans out there surely the Baba Yaga is real!” Soap and Gaz turn to you expectingly.
“Yeah Baba Yaga is real.” You sigh, you forgot about your notoriety, you forgot to tell your husband. This could break your relationship again… fuck!
“Who? Baba Yaga hasn’t been seen in years did he finally die?” Gaz folds his arms speculating.
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“I retired.”
“Oh— Your Baba Yaga?” Soap said his eyes widening in shock. You since at his volume.
“Yeah.” He looked you up and down, you didn’t look like much. You could see Simon staring at you in shock as betrayal clouds his eyes again.
“Only the Baba Yaga could do what the high table asks and leave this hellish world alive.” You tell him sternly.
“So… you know… we are hunting you?” Gaz mumbles.
“Figured.” You state standing up as Hecate walks in with a nicely pressed suit tailored to your body “I’m shocked you hunting me when all my targets have been other criminals.” You hum as you begin to put on the pants.
“How did you track down Azhar Maktar when we couldn’t even find him?” Soap asks watching you intently as you change into the black suit.
“The continental and a few connections,” you state.
“I see… will the continental help us.”
“I doubt it, you can ask but they will turn you down.” You tell them. You put on the white dress shirt hiding behind Simon’s body to as you change. You walk from behind him suit on and ready to slay.
“Can you help us locate another man?” Soap asks.
“Who?”
“Vladimir Makarov,” your face scrunches up. Hearing that familiar name.
“That bastard.” You mumble.
“You know him?”
“Met the motherfucker on a mission, got in my way so I beat him near death. Since then every few years he sends men after me trying to kill me.” You wave your hands before walking to the wall and looking for a nice gun to have.
“Do you know where he is?”
“No, my guess is somewhere nowhere Russia.” Soap groans and looks at you with slight disappointment.
“Is Makarov part of the underground network?” Simon finally asks.
“I’m not sure, I haven’t heard of him, but he could be using a proxy.” You explain, too which he nods.
“Alright,” you all turn to the cigar man who sets the phone down. “There is a warrant on Arseni Anastas. We are given the authority to get him.” He tells his crew. They all nod.
“We’ll have to drop by a base—“
“Too far,” you inturupt Gaz. “You’ll have to work like a hitman. Let’s get you suits.” You turn to them with a wicked smile. They all look at you confusingly.
“What will a suit do?” Gaz asks.
“Besides fitting in with the continental it can also protect you from bullets unless you want to risk it.” He nods.
“So where do we get the suits?” Cigar man asks.
“I know a place. We’ll borrow a car from the continental and drive there.” You explain.
“You stay here,” Simon immediately states. He looks down at you with a serious expression, “You're the target.” You sigh but nod.
“Before you go you need to know a few things.” You state pulling out a notepad. You wrote down two addresses, one for a tailor and another for a Sommelier.
“When you go to the Sommelier ask for him and when you meet him ask for a tasting. If you don’t like what he gives ask for something robust,” they stared at you a little confusingly, “Simon in your case ask for dessert.”
“Why?” Gaz slowly asks.
“We talk in code,” you explain.
“When you go to the tailor and ask for an Italian suit, it’s for a social event, tactical lining, and rush to order. Have it delivered to the hotel, got it?” You tell them. They all nod committing your words to memories.
“Let me get some coins,” you murmur.
“Coins?”
“You need to pay for it somehow.” You walk off and walk back to your destroyed hotel room. You retrieved a handful of coins and pocketed it.
“Here,” you hand over the coins to your husband. He looked at them weirdly. “Assassin currency pays what they ask for.” He nods and studies your face.
“We’ll be back soon,” Simon kisses you on the forehead.
As they depart the hotel you let out a sigh and sit down at the bar. You order another round of bourbon and smoked another cigarette. You mind your own business as people come in and out.
A few hours passed before they returned. They looked a little frazzled and very warn out. Simon sat across from you and handed over the unused coins.
“What— that was an experience.” Soap mumbles pulling a chair up next to you.
“Are those guns legal here?”
“Yes,” you answer, “yes it is.”
“So… what now?” Simon asks.
“It’ll be a few days until the suit will be done.” You begin putting out your cigarette on the ashtray. They spent their time casing out the continental waiting for their suits to be made.
Simon spent most of his time around you, asking questions here and there. You could tell with every answer you gave stressed him out even more. You pitted him, this must be so… daunting to learn.
“Love,” you look over to see your husband walking up to you.
“Yes?”
“Let’s go over the plan again,” you sigh but nod. It’s the twentieth time he asks but you know it comes from a place of pure love.
“We’ll be having this meeting in the bar. Gaz and Soap will be sitting at the bar while you and Price watch on from the lobby.” You recite again. He nods along.
“I rather be inside the room.” He spoke up finally telling you his honest desire. You looked at him. His team agreed he shouldn’t be in the room and so did you. Not because you didn’t want him there, just if it gets tense, you didn’t want him to see you at your worst.
“It’s not up to me,” you state, but to some degree it was. He turns to you eyes full of worries and grief, eyes that seem to study you with every second his gaze lingers. You knew he was trying to remember everything about you, your face, your smile, your voice, everything.
“It’s going to be ok,” you reassure him. You touch his thigh and he gazes down at your hand. He slowly nods.
“Promise me you won’t do anything drastic.”
“I promise.”
“Wow… these suits are, are almost perfect,” Soap mused to himself as he moved his arms up and down.
“It still feels a little constrictive.” Gaz mutter.
“Italians like to hug so the suits are a little more comfortable to move around in them.” You explain as you pick up a knife and slip it up your sleeve.
“I feel like James Bond,” Gaz smiled looking at himself in the mirror.
You slightly smile and look over to your husband who silently watches you. You give him a reassuring nod before getting up.
“Are you ready men,” you look over to see their Captain, Price speak up. They nod and head out, leaving you and Simon one last moment of peace.
He pulls you close to him and softly kisses you one last time. It was far longer than any kiss he had ever given. It was a goodbye as it was a final “I love you.”
“Be safe.”
“Of course,” he left the room.
If it was anyone else besides your husband you would have laughed. Be safe… You’re the Baba Yaga, you have no need to worry. You sigh and look around the room. Your anxiety is kicking in even though you’ve done this a hundred times… was it because you have something to lose now?
Ring ring
Your hotel phone goes off, you stand up put your cigarette out in the ashtray, and lift the phone.
“Yes?” You answer.
“Arseni Anastas is here.” You thank Hecate and exit your room. You made your way down to the bar. As you enter the lobby you find both your husband and the captain sitting At opposite places slowly studying everyone’s movement.
You round the corner to the bar and there surrounded by a few men was Arseni. He turns to you with this wicked cold glare. You sat across from him.
“Arseni,” you greeted coldly.
“Wick,” he sneers back, “come to beg from my forgiveness?”
“Hardly, I am asking you to walk away from this—“
“You killed my son!” He roars before falling back to Russian insults.
“And you’re done killing my surrogate and child,” you coldly stated. He turns back to you annoyed and frustrated.
“I’ll give up when he’ll freeze over.” You stood up lit another cigarette and stared down at him.
“Then let’s take this outside off of continental grounds.” You suggest moving away from the plans.
“I’ll kill you one way or another!”
Creak!
The window to the bar shatters as a bullet hits your bulletproof vest. You sense and take cover. Arseni that fool! His men turn on you guns ready. But then both Gaz and Soap caught on to the madness.
Bullets fly across the continental bar. You see Arseni and a few of his men rush for the exit. You scramble to your feet and chase after him.
“[name!],” your husband shouted but you were out the doors. You grab the onto your suit and use it to hide your head.
As the last bodyguard left continental grounds you unsheathed your knife and stabbed him in the neck. You restless the gun from him and shot him dead.
Ba ba ba!
It hit your suit. You winced in pain. Though they stopped the bullet they did not stop it from hurting like hell. You shot two more dead. A few other hitmen came rushing out, they were waiting for you.
You lungs behind a car and check how many rounds you have left. You sigh and begin to quickly take out the hire hit. You changed up to a semiautomatic gun and mode down two more.
Arseni jumped into a car and knocked out an assassin on a motorcycle. You hopped on and raced after them, leaving the continental behind.
You chased him down to a run-down building. You groan realizing this will be a shoot-out. You enter the building slowly ready to kill your target.
They came flooding out like ants to a food pile. It was almost like an all-you-can-eat buffet. They made it so easy. You swing around ducking and dodging as you take out one person after another. Every once in a while exchanging your gun out for a newer one.
By the time you reach the final door, you are completely out of it. You were very rusty, in your skills but it seems like your body hasn’t forgotten. You know tomorrow you be sore.
“In here!” You froze and duck down behind the railing and look to see who just arrived. To your shock, it was your husband and his friends.
“[name]?” Simon calls out.
“Here,” you shout back before standing up.
“You were supposed to wait!” He worriedly stated anger laced with in his tone.
“Did you do this?” Gaz asks seeing the dead boy littering the ground.
“One last room,” you state.
“Let us handle it.” You looked at your husband before sighing and nodding.
You stared at the door, your hands itching to enter. The door slowly opens in in their costing was Arseni. He looked at you with vile and hate.
“You're a filthy pig,” he snarls. Soap pushed him forward and walked him away.
“Finally this is over.”
“I doubt it’s that simple.”
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8.4K Words
@makandcheeses, @100percentlazybonez, @selinbaskaya
#cod x reader#141#call of duty#simon ghost riley#captain price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#modern warfare 2#cod#cod mw2#john wick
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Request: THIS IDEA JUST SPARKED HOLY SHIT?? OK have you ever watched Hot Ones with Sean Evens (first we feast is the youtube channel) so basically that but Steve is the one being interviewed but he LOVES spicy food??(watch the episode with Florence Pugh i LOVE it but basically I want it to be kinda like that) just yeah that. Jxjxnxnx please and thank you
MY LOVE ❤️ I admit, most of what I watch of really anything is either highlights on Tik Tok or short clips my friends send me because I am out of touch with the cool kids. But Hot Ones is SO GOOD. The Lewis Capaldi episode (I do love him anyways) had me actually almost pee my pants laughing. I hope you love this fun (short, sorry) thing for this! - Mickala ❤️
-------------------------------------------------
“I just don’t know why you got Hot Ones. They could have had the whole band on there making idiots of themselves,” Eddie pouted.
He’d been pouting for two days now.
In fact, his entire band was from the moment Steve called him on tour to let him know that he would be doing the Hot Ones interview next week.
“I told you, they had a last minute cancellation and my schedule just worked. Maybe you’ll get next season,” Steve said over the phone as the oven timer went off to let him know his brownies were done cooking.
“Whatcha makin’ Stevie?” Eddie’s curiosity was adorable.
He was in London, just got off stage from their last show in Europe. Steve was in their home in LA, having the last lazy day in before his awards season started.
“If I tell you, you’ll be sad you’re missing it.”
“Tell us! Tell us!” Gareth said from much closer than Steve would have expected.
“Hi Gare Bear. No personal space tonight?”
Eddie laughed as Steve pulled the brownies out of the oven and shut it off.
“He said personal space is for people who don’t like each other and he likes me very much,” Steve could hear Eddie’s eye roll in his voice. “A shame because I can’t stand him.”
“Play nice boys. You’ll be home in less than 24 hours,” Steve reminded them.
Gareth lived a mile up the road from them with his boyfriend and their excessive amount of cats.
Excessive being four.
Steve was allergic, so any amount of cats seemed excessive to him.
But Steve and Gareth were close, had been since even before Eddie and Steve started dating.
He was Steve’s best man in their wedding, much to Dustin’s bafflement. He only didn’t argue because Eddie softened the blow by asking him to be his own best man.
Usually if baked goods or a home cooked meal were involved, Gareth would show up at their door ready to partake.
“You’ll be home when I get there?”
“Yep. Cleared my whole day just for you, baby.”
“Good. Miss you.
“Miss you too. You heading to bed?” Steve poked at the brownies, making sure they were cooked.
“Yeah, I’m beat.” Eddie yawned to emphasize how exhausted he was. “Did your manager tell them you love spicy foods or are you just gonna let them assume you’re a wimp?”
“Nah. It’ll be fun.”
—-------------------
When he arrives on the set of Hot Ones, Sean greets him with a smile and a handshake.
Eddie wasn’t able to come with him, but Robin had promised to record the whole thing just for them.
She watched from the side next to his manager, Nancy, and his bodyguard, Hopper.
They settled at the table, got mic’d up, makeup touched up, and Sean reminded him that if he absolutely had to tap out, they could stop recording and edit everything accordingly to make it look like he made it through the challenge.
Steve wasn’t worried.
The first three wings didn’t even have a kick. It was just a casual conversation between friends.
He talked about his work with a theater group for kids in New York City, as well as his work on an indie film that was coming out in the fall.
The fourth and fifth wings had a pinch of spice to them, but nothing to make even bat an eye.
Sean continued asking questions, Steve continued answering them.
On the seventh wing, Steve was barely distracted from the question: “What project of yours are you most looking forward to doing next?”
“I think I’ll be most excited to take some time off with my husband, working on starting the family we’ve wanted for a while. He’s been on tour for most of the last year, and we agreed it was a good time to figure out what we wanna do,” Steve said as he took another bite.
He could feel the burn of this one at least, felt the sting on his lips and tongue.
But it was very manageable, and the jalapeno flavor was almost refreshing. It tasted fresh.
“Okay, I have to ask: did you practice these beforehand?”
Steve snorted.
“No. I’m just not very sensitive to spicy foods. I usually keep a lot of hot sauces in my house. Poor Eddie’s learned how to tolerate spice because of it,” Steve said as they brought out the eighth wing.
“I’ve never had anyone so calm at this point. I’m starting to think even the hottest one won’t really bother you!”
“I guess we’ll see!”
The ninth wing was hot. He wouldn’t try to deny it.
“It does have a lovely watermelon flavor to it, very fruity and tangy on top of the spice. I like it,” Steve smiled.
He knew his face was getting a bit red from this one, and he reached for the water, but only had to take a couple of small sips before he was ready to keep going.
“Alright, for this one, we’ll ask a question for you to answer before and then we’ll have one for right after. You ready?”
“Bring it on!”
And it definitely did.
It was hot, and he could feel tears in his eyes, and sweat breaking out across his forehead.
“Finally, we have a reaction!” Sean exclaimed.
“This one’s definitely a lot more than the others,” Steve added, reaching for the milk.
He could tell Robin and Nancy were laughing, probably very much enjoying any amount of pain he managed to have when he went into this so sure that none of them would get to him.
“Final question: Would you ever consider retiring to follow Eddie on tour with your future family?”
Steve nodded once, taking another sip of the milk.
God, this one was hot.
“Uh, yep. I mean, retiring is a strong word. I would definitely take a long break. I’ve always wanted a family,” he stopped to take another sip and a bite of the celery. “I’ve wanted to be a dad for as long as I can remember. And I know Eddie wants that, but he also doesn’t wanna stop making music, and the rest of his band isn’t ready to take a break like that. I know it would be easy for me, so my plan would be to take at least a few years off.”
“Doing alright over there?”
Steve laughed, fanning his face.
“I’m okay. That just went from a kick to a beatdown pretty quick.”
“Well, you’re a pro at making it look easy. You deserve an Oscar for this performance!”
It was a ridiculous sentiment, but funny, and Steve was up for an Oscar this year.
He finished the glass of milk and shook Sean’s hand, thanking him for having him.
“Eddie is already in tears watching Sean watch you in disbelief,” Robin started as soon as he joined them again.
“What was all that at the end?” Nancy asked, arms crossed, face furious.
He usually had free reign in interviews, but he knew Nancy would tell him not to mention anything even slightly related to retirement.
His career had really only just taken off a couple years earlier, and talking about a break or retiring now would immediately cut his chances of good roles in half.
“Just the truth, Nance. You know Eddie and I wanna start a family,” he said as they started walking through the backstage area to leave.
“I just didn’t know that meant taking a break. I thought you’d just take turns with stuff or hire a nanny.”
Steve knew that worked for a lot of couples, but they both were too family-focused for that. They didn’t want a nanny raising their kids.
“Why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not! I just would’ve liked a heads up.”
Robin stared between them, eyes bouncing back and forth like it was a tennis match.
“I don’t have to tell you every single detail of my life. You know all that’s relevant right now.”
Nancy sighed, but nodded, turning away and typing furiously on her phone.
His phone rang seconds later.
“Sweetheart, let me just say: it is so sexy how you handle those hot sauces,” Eddie’s teasing voice was enough to get him back into a happy mood.
“Your standards for sexy are so low,” Steve said as he walked to the corner to get as much privacy as possible.
“No, it’s just that everything you do is sexy.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“But I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours.”
“Steve!” Sean’s voice came from behind him, large smile lighting up his face. “Sorry to bother you, but would Eddie and the guys like to come on the show as our bonus episode this season?”
Eddie was screaming yes through the phone, much to their amusement.
“So…yes?” Sean asked.
“Yes!” Eddie yelled.
Sean walked away to update the producer while Steve kept talking to Eddie.
“See? Now you’ll get your show, too.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#request#ficlet#stranger things#rock star eddie munson#actor steve harrington#modern au
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After the Concert
Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader
Word count- 5.3k
Includes- So much fluff, hand job, blow job, cum eating, cock riding, missionary, multiple orgasms
Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa
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Yoongi POV
Walking off the stage after the second set of songs, staff immediately surround me
Towels are applied to my neck and forehead, wiping off the immense amount of sweat on me
I breathe hard, downing water as I'm led to a chair to sit for a few seconds before I have to change
After a minute, I'm up, stylists handing me a shirt as I shove out of the jacket and strip the sweat soaked shirt I'm wearing
Pulling the new shirt on, I change my pants and shoes quickly, then I'm back in the chair, hair stylists and makeup artists flocking around me
Combs are running through my hair, make up brushes applying foundation to areas on my face where I guess I sweated it off
I look around at the people surrounding me
"Where is she?", I ask a stylist
"Somewhere here", she answers
Well no shit
I know she's somewhere back here, I just don't see her
I know she's hanging back, letting the staff do its job to get me ready for the next set of songs
She's used to it by now
A few minutes later I'm ready for the next set but I still don't see her
"I need her", I tell one of the staff members
"Yoongi, she's here, you can just go on-"
"No", I snap
They know I can't go on without at least seeing her in between sets
Even if it's just for a few seconds
Since the second I walked on stage for our debut showcase, she's been backstage at every performance, giving me the encouragement, the support I need
Everyone knows I can't go on stage without seeing her
"Naekkeo", I hear behind me
Turning, I look down at her in relief
She reaches for me, hugging me as she gives me a quick sweet kiss
This is what I need, her, a kiss from her to renew the energy to go back on stage when I'm so exhausted
"I love you", she whispers
"I love you jagi", I tell her
She lets go, steps away from me, smiling and giving me a thumbs up
And I'm good to go
---------------------------
Finishing my song The Last, which also happens to be the last song of the concert, I turn and wordlessly walk across the stage to the back of it
Getting back stage, I climb down the stage stairs right into her arms
"You were amazing naekkeo", she whispers, hugging me tightly, "I'm so proud of you"
I let the feeling of her hug wash over me
"Yeah? It was good?"
She pulls back a little, looking at me, "Of course Yoongi. Didn't you hear ARMYS screams? They didn't want the concert to end. Doing this three nights in a row is amazing. Doing this for months for the tour is amazing. You're incredible Yoongi"
I smile shyly, feeling my face blush
"Cute", she giggles, kissing my cheek, "Wanna go home naekkeo? You must be tired baby"
I am
I'm exhausted
Three days in a row of performing to end the tour took a lot out of me
And she's been there with me from the very first show in New York, taking care of me
Making sure I eat, stay hydrated, sleep, shower, rest, wake me up, get everywhere on time and stay with me
Now the tour is over and we can rest for a little
She needs it too
Right now I need a shower, then bed
"C'mon baby", she says, taking my hand
"Wait jagi", I tell her, "Can I have it back now?"
"Oh yeah", she laughs, "I forgot"
Reaching in her pocket she takes out my wedding ring
I hold out my hand, smirking at her
She rolls her eyes but slides the ring on my finger where it belongs
It sucks that I still have to hide her after all these years, especially now that we're married
I hate it but the managers think it's a good idea to keep it a secret for longer until after my military service
I hate having to take the ring off every time I do something like a photoshoot, a vlive, a concert
Luckily she's always there to hold it for me
Her job is very flexible, an accountant for a business that allows her to work online, so she comes everywhere with me
To say I'm attached to her is to say the least
Her job just makes it easier to spend more time with her and I honestly want to be around her all the time
It hasn't changed from high school when I first laid my eyes on her in a math class
I know I'm lucky to have her and to be able to spend so much time with her
I see how the guys struggle to find time for their girlfriends
Thankfully I haven't had that problem for years now
"Come naekkeo", she says, tugging my hand
I follow her, us stopping in the dressing room so I can get my stuff, then we're off to our home
Not a hotel this time
Home
---------------------------
"Come baby", she says, tugging my hand, leading me to the bathroom
When we got home, she told me to stay out of the bathroom for a few minutes
I have no idea what she was doing in here
I figured she had to use the toilet so I didn't argue
When I get inside, I'm surprised to see the bathtub full of soapy water
"I thought you'd like to relax a bit before a shower", she says softly
I smile at how thoughtful she is
"Yeah jagi", I nod, "Thank you"
She tilts her head, her smile widening, "Anything for you naekkeo"
I pull her to me, hugging her tightly, knowing how lucky I am to have her
"Are you coming in with me?"
"Do you want me to?", she asks
"You know I do jagi. I always want you with me"
"Ok Yoongi", she giggles
I lean down, giving her a soft kiss
After, we both undress and she takes my hand, leading me to the tub
"Go in baby", she says
I do, expecting her to sit in front of me
"Move up a little", she says
Confused, I do
She steps into the tub, sitting behind me instead
Her legs move around my waist and over my legs, her body leaning against my back
She presses kisses to my shoulder, right where my 7 tattoo is, one of two tattoos that I have, sending chills down my spine
She spreads her kisses along my back, her fingers moving my hair aside to kiss my neck
Her hands move on my back, softly running up and down, feeling so good
I get another kiss to the back of my neck, then feel her move back as her hands slide up to my shoulders
Her fingers squeeze, sending pleasure down my body
She keeps going, massaging my tired muscles, feeling so good
"So many knots naekkeo", she says, both hands moving to my right shoulder, massaging a spot that hurts
Her thumbs work into my skin, the pain lessening with each move she makes
When she gets rid of the knot, I feel her soft lips on my skin, kissing that spot
She moves along my shoulders, rubbing out the knots that formed from three days of performing
And she kisses each spot when she's done
Her fingers move gentler when she gets to my bad shoulder
The surgery fixed it for the most part but she's still afraid it'll hurt me so she always goes extra gentle
I thought she was just going to massage my shoulders, so I'm surprised when her hands continue to work down my back, squeezing the sides, rubbing her hands up the middle of my back with perfect pressure
"Jagi", I whimper, the massage feeling so good
I haven't had one in awhile
"Feels good naekkeo?", she asks, her hands fucking magic
I nod, "So good"
"Good naekkeo", she says, rubbing her thumbs on my side, "I'm glad it's helping"
It so it
She's making me putty in her hands but I'm so ok with that
I trust her with my life
When she finishes my back, she pulls me to her, my back against her chest, her hand leaning my head back on her shoulder
Her hands circle around my left upper arm, kneading the muscles there, tingles running up and down my arm
"Mmm", I whimper, closing my eyes
She goes down my entire arm, her fingers squeezing softly, loosening my muscles
She even massages my hand and palm, then softly squeezes down each finger
She lifts my hand, pressing kisses to the back, my palm and each of my fingers
Turning my hand to the back, she kisses my second tattoo on my wedding ring finger
A script J for her name
It's inked right above my wedding ring
She has a Y for my name on finger above her wedding ring too
It was my idea to do
I know she's my only one, my forever so I suggested that tattoo and she loved the idea
I have to hide it with tattoo concealer when I perform for now until I announce us
The tattoo is perfect and I love it
Picking up my other arm she massages it and includes the kisses, same like she did before
I'm just in awe of her
She's always so gentle with me and it makes me feel so loved
She's absolutely perfect for me and I'm so glad I found her so early in my life
I knew from the first kiss she was my one and I've never doubted it
Never wanted anyone but her
And she feels the same way about me, always staying by my side, encouraging me, supporting me through the hardest of times
I can't say that everything was easy with us or that I was an amazing boyfriend all the time because I wasn't
I had to leave her behind in Daegu when I went for training and even when she moved to Seoul to be closer to me, I still didn't have so much time for her
She was second while BTS was first
I was a sucky boyfriend for a while, the first few years when BTS first started but she never wavered, never left me
She was there for me when I needed her, always, even when I couldn't be there for her
She never blamed me, never made me feel bad for anything
She just loved me
And I'm so grateful for her
She gently puts my hand down into the water, her arms encircling me, softly rubbing on my chest
Her lips press to my shoulder as she massages my chest, trailing them along my shoulder, making shivers run up my spine
She kisses my neck as she finishes with my chest, moving her hands to my thighs, one on each, kneading my muscles there
"Sorry I can't do this so well here naekkeo", she whispers in my ears, "My hands are too small and I can't reach to use both hands to rub one"
I shake my head slightly, completely melted against her, "Don't worry about it jagi. It feels good baby. Thank you"
"Don't thank me naekkeo. I'll do anything for you", she answers, kissing my cheek, "You deserve it naekkeo. You work so hard all the time and I'm glad I could be the one to make you feel better"
She really loves me so much and I'm so goddamn lucky
"You're the best Jo", I tell her, turning my head, kissing her cheek, "My jagi. I love you so much"
"I love you Yoongi", she answers, turning to me, her lips pressing against mine
I fall into her kiss, fire running through every cell in my body, a feeling that happens every time I kiss her
Every time
I move my arm up and around her neck as the kiss deepens, her tongue against mine
One of her hands slide in my hair, the other cupping my cheek
We continue to kiss and I love the feel of her soft lips against mine, her tongue playing with mine, her fingers gently playing with my hair
Her kisses are heaven, absolute heaven
Her hand on my cheek slides down, laying against my chest, sending heat through every nerve
I love when she touches me, having her small hands, her delicate fingers anywhere on my skin
I crave her touch, want her hands on me all the time
I'm so in love with her, each day my love for her growing and growing and I know it'll never stop
Her fingers trail slowly down my body, ghosting over my stomach and lower
Her fingers run over my hard length, kissing her always turning me on
She smiles into the kiss as her hand wraps around my cock, her hand slowly moving up and down
Pleasure runs up my spine, making me moan in her mouth
Her hand goes all the way down to my base then up to my head, slightly twisting her hand as she moves and fuck me it's so good
"Jagi", I whimper
"Shh naekkeo", she whispers, her lips so close to mine, I can feel her soft breath, "Just kiss me baby"
I can do that
Crashing my lips against hers, I kiss her hungrily, biting her bottom lip softly
Her hand moves faster, her thumb rubbing over my head, making me shake against her
"Mmm so big for me naekkeo", she whispers between kisses
It feels so good
Everything she does feels fucking amazing
She squeezes my length softly as she continues her movements, pushing me closer and closer
Her mouth against mine, fingers running in my hair just add to the bliss
I keep my hands on her thighs, squeezing as the pleasure intensifies
My cock throbs in her hand and she lets out a soft moan in my mouth, driving me fucking crazy
"Cum for me naekkeo"
Her hand slides up and I break the kiss, leaning my head back on her shoulder, moaning her name loudly as I cum, the pleasure so intense
"Mm yeah naekkeo", she murmurs, kissing my cheek, her hand still pumping my dick, "Good boy, coming just for me"
I nod, whining her name, my orgasm running through me
As it ends, her hand slows down until she lets me go
Her arms wrap around my waist, holding me, leaning her head against mine
"Jagi", I whisper tiredly
"Shh baby. Just relax ok", she murmurs, kissing my cheek again, "Close your eyes naekkeo. I have you ok?"
I nod, loving being in her arms, "Ok jagi"
"Ok naekkeo", she says softly as I close my eyes, relaxing into her
---------------------------
"Baby", I hear her voice softly calling me, "Yoongi, baby"
"Mmm?", I answer, opening my sleepy eyes
"Time to wake up naekkeo"
Wake up?
I was asleep?
I remember closing my eyes, laying against her
I don't remember falling asleep
"How long", I yawn, "Was I sleeping for?"
"Half an hour? Maybe forty five minutes?"
That long?
I kept her here, laid on her for that long?
What if she has stuff she wanted to do tonight?
She had to be so bored just sitting here
Fuck
"I'm sorry jagi", I tell her, forcing myself to sit up
"Sorry for what baby?", she asks, laying her head on my shoulder
"For sleeping for that long. For keeping you here, for laying on you for that long. For boring you"
"Oh stop it naekkeo", she argues gently, "I wasn't bored. You know I love holding you"
I turn to her, "But..you were awake while I was asleep. And you weren't bored?"
She shakes her head, smiling softly, tucking some hair behind my ear, "No baby. I know you're tired and I know you needed sleep. And you need more. I just woke you up because the water is cold"
I honestly didn't even notice
"So come naekkeo. We'll take a quick shower and then we can go to bed ok?"
"You don't have to jagi-"
"Shush naekkeo", she says, holding a finger to my lips, "I like taking care of you baby. I want to. You need it baby, you work so hard and three concerts in a row had to take it's toll on you"
That's true, I'm really feeling the three concerts in my body right now
I feel like I could sleep for days
But still, she shouldn't have to take care of me
She's tired too, she was there for the whole tour, for the last three days too, getting up early, going to bed late, working on her laptop as well
She has to be exhausted too
"Just let me care for you baby", she says, smiling softly, "I'll do anything for you you know"
I nod
I know
She's proven that a million times over
And I'll do anything for her
"Ok jagi"
She nods, kissing my lips softly
She stands up, getting out of the tub, the water running down her beautiful body
Fuck, my girl is stunning
She gets in the shower, turns on the water from the rain shower head, then come back to the tub
She pulls on the lever to let the water drain, then takes my hand
I stand up, get out of the tub and let her lead me to the shower
Once we're inside, she leads me to the built in shower seat, pushing me softly down on it
Grabbing one of the smaller shower heads, she turns it on, running the warm water all over my body
"Tilt your head baby"
I do and she runs her water over my hair, her fingers running in it, getting every strand wet
"Gonna wash your hair baby", she says, grabbing shampoo, moving closer, standing in between my legs
She pours some in her hand, wets it and puts the shampoo in my hair
Her fingers get working, getting a lather up as I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her
Her fingers scratch my scalp as she washes my hair and I keep my eyes closed, my head slightly back, loving it
She keeps giving me quick kisses on my lips as she soaps my hair, making me smile every time
"You're so cute naekkeo", she giggles
"I try", I chuckle
"You don't have to try baby. You just are"
I just continue to smile, keeping my arms around her, my hands gripping her ass cheeks and squeezing, making her giggle more
"Getting frisky huh?"
"Every time I'm around you jagi", I confirm
"My bad boy", she teases
"All yours", I nod
I feel her lips against mine, in a more heated kiss and I gladly give into it
After a minute she pulls away, telling me, "Keep your head back", as she gets the showerhead
I do, keeping my eyes on her beautiful face
Every time I look at her I feel how lucky I am to have her
I feel all the love I have for her and I just want to shower her in it
She runs her fingers in my hair as she rinses the shampoo out of it, making sure no soap gets on my face or in my eyes
When she finishes, she gets soap, working that into a lather too
Her hands move to my chest, spreading the soap, her fingers feeling so fucking good on my skin
She continues to soap my body up, her hands going down my stomach to my back, down my arms
Then she moves to my thighs, kneeling down as she moves the soap down my legs and to my feet
She takes the showerhead again, running it on my body, running her hands on my body, the soap slipping off me
She looks up at me and I can't help get turned on
It's just her on her knees, her big brown eyes on mine, it's hot
And my cock gets hard
She's just so...perfect
She puts the showerhead down, her small hand wrapping around my cock again
With her eyes still on mine, she licks the top of my head, pleasure shooting down my spine
She breaks eye contact, looking down as her tongue runs slowly up my length, then lavishes licks on my head, the tip of her tongue running over my slit
"Baby", I moan
Her mouth moves around my head, soft sucks making pleasure explode in my body
Her tongue circles my head as she sucks on me, taking more of my cock in her mouth
She switches to bobbing her head back and forth, my eyes locked on my cock moving in and out of her mouth
God, she looks so fucking pretty with my dick in her mouth and it feels fantastic
My fingers slide in her hair, holding in tightly as I moan
God it's so fucking good
It's better than good
She slowly moves down more and more until my cock enters her tight throat and she bottoms me out
Tears spring to her eyes as she swallows on my length, making me gasp in bliss
Once she's used to me, she resumes her bobbing, sliding up and down my dick, bottoming me out every move
She moves down my cock to my head then slides back up so fast, my cock hitting her throat hard
She moans loudly, fucking her throat on my cock and the pleasure is out of this world
I moan along with her, her throat so tight, her mouth moving fast, pleasuring my cock perfectly
Her pretty mouth is bringing me so close and my hips move on their own, softly fucking into her mouth
She stops moving, keeping her mouth open, letting me fuck into her, swallowing ever so often as I move, tears falling down her face
"Jagi", I pant, feeling my orgasm build, "I'm gonna cum"
She nods, sucking on my cock as I shove my length into her mouth again and again
Intense pleasure comes over my body as I thrust my cock deep in her throat, spurting my cum into her mouth
She swallows eagerly, the tight constricting around my cock, sending shocks of bliss down my spine
"Yes jagi", I moan, "Jo, fuck"
Fuck, it's perfect, she's perfect
She swallows over and over until my orgasm ends
Only then does she move off me, swallowing again, then licking my slit, getting them cum there
"So good naekkeo", she smirks, before standing up
"Ggg....give me a second jagi", I tell her, catching my breath before I go on my knees and eat her pretty cunt
"Don't worry about it baby", she says, cupping my face, stroking my skin, "I didn't do it to get anything. I did it because I wanted to make you feel good"
I raise my eyebrow in surprise
She doesn't want anything?
"But-"
"No buts naekkeo", she insists, "You're way too tired. I don't need anything tonight ok? Don't worry"
"Are you sure?"
She nods, "I'm sure baby"
I agree, although I am awake enough to eat her out
But I get she wants to take care of me tonight, so I don't argue with her
She showers quickly, washing her hair, her body and putting conditioner in both our hair, then rinsing it out
After the shower, she gets out, wrapping a towel around her body, then gets some for me
I stand up tiredly, wrapping a towel around my waist, letting her lead me to our room and plopping me down in a chair in front of her makeup vanity, turning the lamp on her makeup desk on, a soft light illuminating the room
She gets another towel, running it over my back, my chest, my torso, my arms, drying me off
Then she moves the towel to my hair, drying it
She reaches for a comb, running it though my long hair and my god it feels amazing
As she combs my hair, I feel my eyes drooping, falling asleep in the chair
A few minutes later, she helps me stand up, drying me from the waist down, then leading me to our bed
She gets me in it, pulling the blankets over me, then kiss my lips softly
"Jagi"
"I'll come lay down soon baby. I'm just going to dry off and brush my hair ok"
I nod
I watch her as she walks to her vanity, pulling the towel off her body
She dries herself off, dropping the towel, then sits on the chair, combing her hair, using a towel to dry it between combing
She turns the lamp off, coming to the bed, slipping in next to me
I turn to her automatically as she moves closer to me, her body against mine
My lips find hers, kissing her, wrapping her in my arms
She kisses me back, her mouth opening for my tongue, playing with mine, my hand pulling her leg over mine in an effort to get as close to her as possible
Her arm moves around my neck, the kiss becoming more heated
Grabbing her ass, I push her into my hardening dick, grinding against her
I know I already came twice but fuck I want more of her
I want to be inside her
As she kisses me she pushes me on my back, climbing in my lap
Breaking the kiss she smirks as she sits on my cock, her pussy dripping all over me as her hips move, rubbing her pussy all over me
"Fuck jagi", I moan, feeling her cunt drench my cock, her pretty lips looking so good with my cock between them
"Please jagi", I moan
"Mmm I know what you want naekkeo", she teases, "Wanna be inside my pussy"
"Yes jagi. Please, fuck. Want to be buried inside your warm cunt"
Without speaking, she lifts herself up, holds my cock up, hovering over me
She sinks down on my shaft, pleasure creeping into every cell as she slides down inch by inch, spreading so wide for me
"Yes", she moans, wiggling down my cock, so fucking blissfully, "Yes Yoongi"
I whimper, pulling her down my cock, her tight cunt opening just enough for me, latching onto my shaft
As soon as I bottom out, she rocks her hips, grinding on my length, throbbing hard around my cock
"Yes jagi, fuck", I moan
"Mmm naekkeo", she smirks, leaving down over me, kissing my lips softly, "I'm gonna fuck you so good"
"Please baby"
God, I'm so horny for her, it's ridiculous how easily she riles me up
"All I want from you is to hear your moans and feel you cum inside me", she whispers in my ear, "Ok naekkeo?"
"Yes", I choke out
"Good baby", she whispers, kissing my cheek, then sitting up
She slides up and down my cock slowly, her pussy leaving me so wet, feeling so fucking good
"Mm Yoongi", she moans, taking my cock so deep inside her, my head hitting her spot, making her legs shake around me
She keeps moving slowly but hard, the wet sound of her pussy swallowing my cock so fucking pretty
I watch her ride me, her hips moving rhythmically, creaming my cock more and more with each bounce
She leans on my stomach, the pleasure on her face so beautiful
"Oh god", she whimpers, "So hard for me naekkeo. So fucking big"
I groan loudly, her words turning me on more and adding to the pleasure
Her praises always affect me and I especially love when she tells me how good my cock is for her
All I want is to be good for her
She pants harder, her hips moving a touch faster, the sight of her on my dick so fucking ethereal
Her cunt pulses with every hit to her spot, driving me fucking crazy
And I crave her orgasm, want it so badly
She's close but she keeps trying to loosen around me, holding her orgasm back
I'm not having it
"Cum jagi"
She tilts her head, panting, "Nnnn...no naekkeo, it's all for you tonight. Don't worry about me"
It's not all for me
She's taken good care of me tonight and now she needs to be taken care of
"If...if it's all for me", I choke out as her cunt tightens around me, "Then cum for me. It's...it's what I want"
"Yoongi-"
"Please jagi. When you cum...fuck it feels so good", I gasp out, my brain turning off, "You know...how much...I...fuck...love it"
"I know", she moans
"Want it", I whisper, "Please"
"Yoongi! Oh my god Yoongi!", she cries, her body shaking in pleasure as she creams my cock in her pretty cum
Utter pleasure slams into my body, feeling her orgasm and I just moan so fucking loudly, holding her down on my cock
The fucking clenching her pussy is doing is so fucking incredible, turning my brain off, letting the pleasure wrack my body
I watch her rock on my dick as she orgasms, my name falling from her lips over and over
When she finishes, I pull her down against me, turning us over, keeping her legs around me, my cock still buried in her
Looking down at her, I kiss her beautiful lips as I begin to thrust into her
I swallow her moans as her pussy opens for me, drenching my cock
Her arms wrap around me, clinging onto me
I wrap my arm around her back, holding her against me, fucking into her, increasing my speed, wrecking her on my length, her pussy sucking me back in with each stroke
"Jagi, fuck", I murmur, moving kisses to her neck, "You feel so good baby"
She's so tight around me, splitting just enough to engulf my cock, my head smashing her spot
"Yyy.... Yoongi", she whimpers, her head pushing back into the pillow, eyes closed, face in bliss
I pound into her, making sure my head is against her spot, then I grind into her
"Fuck Yoongi!"
"Feels good baby?", I ask, keeping up the movements, rubbing my head against her spot
"Yes naekkeo", she moans, her hands sliding into my hair, tugging softly
I kiss down her neck as I pleasure her, lifting her boob and wrapping my mouth around her nipple, sucking hard
She cries out in pleasure, her cunt soaking my length, her legs tightening around my waist
I moan against her nipple, it's so good to suck on
Her cunt pulses around me harder, so close
Sliding my free hand down, I press my thumb into her clit, rubbing it slowly as I grind into her
"Yoongi! Oh my g...Yoongi", she cries, coming all over my cock
Ecstasy blinds me as my cock throbs inside her, shooting my cum in her pussy
"Joanne, fuck", I yell around her nipple, feeling her pussy milk my cock
"Yeah Yoongi! Fuck feels so good baby", she cries, "Fuck love when you cum inside me"
I just whimper, letting the pleasure wash over me
We finish at the same time, both of us breathing hard as we lay in bed, exhausted
"Tttt...time for sleep?", I murmur, staying on top of her, my head on her squishy boobs, my body half on her
"Yes baby. Sleepy time", she breathes, her arm wrapping around me, her other hand sliding in the back of my hair
"I love you", I murmur, kissing her chest
"I love you", she answers, kissing the top of my head, "Always Yoongi"
"Always jagi", I agree
Pulling the blanket over us, we settle into each other, sleep overtaking her immediately
She's the best girl I could have ever found and I'm so fucking lucky she's mine
And I smile as I fall asleep to the sound of her heartbeat
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CEOrry Pt.5
Synopsis: YN and Harry attend her friends wedding. A lot of things said and confessed
Ps. This is the last part.
Series Masterlist | More of my work
It was time for the twenty week prenatal check up and the ultra sound of course.
He was nervous. He haven't seen YN in about two weeks and half. He had to go back and forth Los Angeles and New York City for business last minute. But he had Jeremy drive YN to and from work, he has Lizzie check on her every other day or so. He didn't get to talk to her much.
Just to make sure she's doing alright.
The image of her in pain and misery is still hard to shake from his brain. He just wants to do everything possible to make sure YN isn't in any discomfort.
As new as it sounds. He cares for her. In more ways now. That is new.
She's sweet and caring. She is fiesty when she has to be, which is understandable. Being a woman is hard enough itself, though she's agree it's not an excuse for being an asshole to him.
He's seen her check up on her family as much as she could. Text her brother and dad as much as she could, especially when they're waiting for their turn at the doctors and she's got nothing better to do.
But today, it was something else.
She was going to see him at his place before they went to the doctors. He had an urgent meeting and he's been at office si ce last night, working overnight on this project with his team. He needed a nice hot shower and a change of clothes. And some food of course.
Just when he was coming downstairs, he heard YN's angry whispers from the patio. The door qas closed as she walked back and forth, bare foot, furiously yelling at someone over a phone call. He couldn't understand a word even though he could hear her clearly. She was saying something in her native language, except a few English words she used here and there.
"No, you listen to me you little bastard, you're going to give your phone to Papa at six every night. No going out, no drinking with friends, no seeing all these girls you see every other week." She was yelling at her brother she reckoned, "you're grounded until I see that degree of yours." She paused talking for a moment.
"Then I told you, do what you're interested in, you dumbo! I never forced you to study Business. I worked two jobs here just so you can go to the best college and study, I never expected this from you Veeraj! No! You're going to go take the re-exam, I want you to at least pass, my love! Then you can go ahead and do whatever you want. At least you'd try something."
Harry could see YN was on verged of breakdown. She looked so hurt and exhausted. Mentally exhausted. But she seemed to be calming herself there.
"That's okay! Everyone is not same, Vee, you gotta understand. I understand that. No one is really pressuring you to do anything you don't like. Rebelling is not going to be a answer to anything. I'm trying my best to help you out here. Just so you don't end up drowning in student loans. Now is really not the time for this. You've got to stop drinking, stop hanging out with friends who just take away from your energy. Set up boundaries for yourself. I'm not asking for you to grow up, I'm asking you to learn to take up your responsibilities. I'm going to be here to help every step of the way, whatever it is you want to do I'll find a way to support you, okay? Do you understand me?" She paused for a moment, "That's what I thought. Now I'll ask my friend to take you in for a few lessons. I want you to promise me that you'll do something to get yourself to be a better person, okay? Yeah. That's what I thought. Now go to sleep, and start fresh from tomorrow."
He found her very attractive. He kept staring up until after a few byes and I love yous YN hung up her call and sat down on the step of the patio, crying.
That's when Harry decided to step out and talk to her. "Hey, what's wrong?" He sat down next to her.
"It's nothing. I've been crying since last night." She said.
Lie!
He talked to her last night and she was laughing and joking, having the time of her life making fun of him over the voice call.
"That's not true, YN. You know you can talk to me, right?" He suggested.
"I know." She nodded, "it's just my little brother. He's got weird circle friends and drinking problems. I mean he's barely twenty. It's going since he was seventeen. It got worse when I moved here for my dissertation. Our dad can look after just so much, he's sick and his work took so much toll on him. He failed three of his classes last semester. Which is a lot given his last two year record. If he fails he's got to start all over again."
"It's all my fault. I never asked him what he wanted to study before I gave my own suggestions. I shouldn't have moved here." She mumbled as she sobbed.
"Hey, no, no!" He pulled her closer to his side with his arm around her back, "you try your best, don't you? And that's what matters."
"I don't know. He's like my own baby, I've been taking care of him since I was six. I can't see him doing things which are going to make his life miserable in long run. He's not like this." She finally chose to confide in Harry there.
She isn't a saint, she got drunk too. But that was the first time. That made her more guilty for yelling at her brother like that.
"We'll get him the help he needs, yeah?" He assured her, "you don't have to beat yourself up for something you can't have control over."
"You've done enough for me, Harry, I can't bother you more." She sniffled, "he'll get throught it, he's done it once when our dad found out."
"If you think so." He sighed, "did you had your lunch?"
"Mhmm." She nod her head, "I was hungry so I ate before I came here."
"Good." He smiled, "now do you want to come inside?"
"Just five minutes?" She asked, "and did you eat?"
"I'm going to do that now." He tried to hold back his stupid grin the best he could. She cares about him enough to check up on him even though she's an emotional mess in that moment.
"Okay."
......................................................................
Another hour of wait for the monthly check up (twenty four weeks). YN was already over it today. She'd call it a day off she didn't had to go run some errands after at the bank and pick up a few things from the post office and things like those. Julia was going with her, so she didn't had to take cabs and tube and such.
She was just sat there, slumped and dazed off. Not noticing that Harry had quietly slid his hand into hers on his lap. She didn't realise until she heard another couple comment something along the lines of 'they're so adorable' now maybe it was for something else, but it caught her attention. Warmth in her hand grew slowly closing towards her heart there.
YN had so much going on in her mind, especially in that moment when she could feel the baby move.
They started moving just a week before she went to appointment solo. She couldn't bring herself to share that with Harry. She can control not sharing that. Even though she knows she shouldn't.
She can't have a say in the baby's life but she can at least have a control over this. Of course he won't touch her without her permission, or she'll kick his ass. But he won't.
YN have picked up on the baby's pattern. They were active mostly when she's feeling tired. Not to mention, the heartburn. She just wishes they're not as hairy as she was a baby. Her mum used to tell her how she couldn't even lie down when she had her. She was five and she remembered, she was just lying on her mum's lap as she asked her stupid toddler questions, her mum would answer to her the best way her five hear old self could understand. But with her brother, she could lie down and eat because her brother was a bald baby. But adorable none the less. She missed her mum.
Also she didn't wanted to share too much, before the baby was taken away from her. Well, it isn't her technically. She never wanted to give up her own child, but she did so she wasn't parentless. That was to save ber dad, who's perfectly fine and healthy.
And even though they're on time, they still have to wait at least two and half to three hours for their turn. Which is annoying on many levels.
"Hey, you're tired?" She heard Harry whisper in her ear to which she nodded. "C'mere." He draped his arm behind her on the chair, "just relax, yeah? Everything is going to be fine, I'm here."
She wanted to punch him in the face, but she understood what he was trying to say. Everything is going to be fine, she's going to be fine. So she leaned to his side just to be hit by the fragrance of his cologne in the face. But it was comforting. Weirdly enough.
"We've still got an hour and half." His voice was nothing more than a whisper, "you can take a nap, I'll wake you up, yeah?"
"I'll try." She agreed.
She could really use a nap. But in her own bed. Under her fluffy blanket, and AC on blast. Not at her place here. Back home. She's got a huge bed with comfiest mattress and bedding, she missed it now more than anything. She can cry to go back home and hug her dad.
She tried to sit there as still as she could with a baby inside her having a rave party. She watched Harry check few of his emails, they were from a same person with lists of products for a baby and a nursery. She doesn't mean to peep, she wouldn't have looked into his phone if it were related to his business. But it's not.
Now Harry thought she was fast asleep when he checked his emails until he heard a few soft sniffles from her. He peeped down to find her crying. "Hey, why you crying, darling?"
"It's nothing." She shook her head, "I just don't feel well, that's all."
"Just a few more minutes, yeah? Then we'll ask Doctor Wilson if we can do something for it. Hmm?" He suggested.
"Yeah."
"It's okay." He hugged her close to his chest.
......................................................................
"Baby's got a lot of hair on their head." Dr. Wilson shared, "this sort of explains the heartburn." Harry looked back and forth between YN and the screen in front of them. "You can still feel the baby move?" To which YN nodded.
"You can?" He whispered looking at her with puppy eyes.
"Mhmm." She nodded.
"You want to know the sex of your baby, Mr. Styles?" Doctor Wilson asked.
Now that made YN's heart sink to her tummy. But was the truth. She signed up for this. Doctor Wilson was the one who have helped her with everything from day one. She knew everything about the IVF and her being the surrogate and everything. But she noticed Harry glance at her for last minute approval. She didn't know what to say.
"We'd like to wait, thank you." He smiled.
He said we.
The appointment went smooth as always, doctor Wilson gave YN some advices to help her heartburn. She then had a little bit of time with just YN because she wanted to ask her some questions, which given if both the parties were couple she wouldn't mind asking with the partner in the room.
Doctor Wilson is very thoughtful, especially when she knew YN had personally asked for a female doctor, and that YN was a bit uncomfortable with Harry in the room at the beginning of the screening to see if she can carry a fetus to full term in a healthy manner. But her one question only directed towards Harry had her puzzled with her emotions that day.
She should just really talk to Harry. Right? Or at least try? He'll understand, right?
......................................................................
She held off.
More so that more weeks went by, her health wasn't getting any better (the baby is very healthy) plus she's got a wedding to get through with. YN passed out three times in her bathroom, lucky she sustained no injury. She lied down on the floor carefully when she felt it coming. Her friends almost rushed her to the Emergency department the fourth time. But it was controllable. She went to see her doctor the very next day.
Harry wasn't in town again. He'd gone on another last minute call, this time it was for award ceremony for entrepreneurs and such. He was awarded with couple of awards there, it was just going to go to his every growing college in his office. YN had to go to her monthly checkup alone this time. And it was going to be only time she has to go alone.
But when he came back it was just time for Josh and Kayla's wedding. Harry was actually late, so Jeremy ended driving YN to the wedding venue two days before. He had no idea what went on.
It was the time when the bride and everyone was done getting ready, and they were taking pictures.
YN's dress was loose, she wasn't showing much even though the baby weighed half a pound more than it should be at twenty-one week. It was easier hide her belly.
Now she doesn't want to draw attention to her belly and take away from her best friend's special day. But she did snuck off to the bathroom in her own room next door to take a few of pictures on her phone, posed as where her belly is visible.
"YN you're being dramatic and extra. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it." She scolded herself as she looked through the pictures, just as she was about to delete those, she heard the bride calling for her.
"YN, your alright in there?" Kayla asked, "talk to me so I know you did not pass out in there, babe."
"Yeah, I'm fine." She called out. But not until she heard, the door knob being violently being shaken from the outside.
"Unlock the bloody door YN!" He banged on the door, "open rhe fucking door damn it!"
It was Harry knocking on the door, hard. She hoped he didn't bruise his knuckles when she quickly opened the door worried. "Why are you knocking so hard? Is your hand okay?"
"Why didn't you tell me?" He glared at her ignoring her concerning questions. There was a hint of worry behind his anger.
YN looked at her friend. She just threw her hands up in defence, "I didn't tell him anything. He over heard it." Kayla explained, "I'll give you two a moment." With that she fled the room. YN sighed and walked to the bed in her hotel room so she could put on her shoes.
"Why didn't you tell me YN?" He followed her.
"You were away for work. I didn't wanted to burden you with my problems." She answered and picked up her left shoe. She was going to wear her sneakers because she can't walk properly even when barefoot. She trips and falls, especially at weddings.
"I expect you to share things like with me, YN." He sighs in frustration and kneels down in front of her to help her with her shoes. "How many time have I told you that, hmm? This is ridiculous. You, you think that stupid award function is what I cared about more?" She didn't say anything. He just looked up at her when he was done putting her shoes on for her and found her looking at him with puppy eyes.
Honestly, she can fight with him right there. But it's her friend's special day she doesn't wanna ruin it.
"You wanna talk later?" He asked to which she nodded. "Yes or no?"
"Yes!" She huffed getting up and walking towards the bathroom where she left her phone.
"Hey, YN, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have talk to you like that." He tailed her around as she gathered her stuff. She grabbed a lipstick, and stuff it in the pocket of her dress.
"You tied my shoe lace too tight." She ignored him like he did not yell at her even five minutes ago. Without a question he knelt down again to retie her shoes for her.
For the rest of the ceremony, leading upto the reception party none of them talked to one another but yet managed to savour and enjoy every minute, for her friends at least.
First it was the dinner then the reception according the bride and groom's plans. It was emotional, funny and sarcastic with all of the speeches. And the drinking and dancing began again.
YN was getting overwhelmed already. Especially after her little speech. She could still see Harry there, he looked pissed. She went to get herself a glass of water by the bar.
"Hello there." Someone went to sit on the stool right next to hers. It was Doctor Micheal Jones.
"Hi..." YN was confused seeing him there.
"Been waiting to talk to ya whole night actually. How have you been?" He asked.
"I've been good, what about you?" Oh how she hated the small talk.
"I'm great." He smiled. She noticed he's got dimples too, a blond stubble and both his arms were covered in random tattoos, she could see from the rolled up sleeves.
Wait, has she got a type?
"You're from the bride or groom's side?" She asked him before he could say anything further.
"I am Heidi, Joshua's step sisters cousin." The blue eyed man explained.
"Oh, that sweet."
"And you're from bride's side I believe?" He asked.
"Oh no, I'm technically from both of their sides." She giggled, "they're both my best mates."
"YN, darling can I talk to you?" It was Harry interrupting Micheal before he could even utter a word. "Come on darling it's urgent please." He grabbed a gentle hold her hand as he helped her down the stool making sure to take her water bottle from the counter. He guided her out.
YN didn't get to take in the venue when the sun was up. But the wedding was at the Stourhead House and Gardens in the county of Wiltshire, near the Apollo Temple.
It's the exact place where Kiera Knightley's Pride and Prejudice was filmed. Kayla's a huge nerd for books, hence her PhD in English literature. YN never understood how that girl can read three to four hundred page book in a day to a day and half max. The venue was also something Kayla and Josh had little arguments over until they booked the place for the day.
"What?" YN slipped her hand out of Harry's, the metal of his rings was warm and cosy but she's mad at him for talking to her like that. They're out of the party now.
"Let's go there, it's a little loud here." He grabbed her hand again and walked towards the Apollo Temple which was barely fifteen feet away from the party. Which didn't make sense because it was still loud. They sat by the edge of the temple there. "You're feeling any better now?" He asked. Watching her lean into the pole next to her.
She looks tired and sleep deprived there. Her phone placed in between him and her with the lockscreen lit up, it was half part ten then and the the background was of the first ultrasound picture he sent her. It was the phone he gifted her, she's really using it. And the bracelet, she was wearing it. The piece of jewelry went so well with her baby blue dress, a stretchy bodice and off shoulder opaque sleeves ending just by her wrists. She wore a silver necklace with a little gold charm on it.
"Hey, come on, I'm really sorry darling." He scooted a bit closer to her, "why didn't you tell me, hmm?" He tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear gently and she finally looked at him.
"I told you, I didn't wanted to tell you because you were away for work." She shared, "you said you have important meeting. I went to the appointment so I'm fine now."
"You also said, and I quote, I don't want to burden you with my problems, care to tell me what that means?" For the first time they're having a conversation without yelling at one another, "because I never said you're burden, did I now? I apologise if at any point I made you feel that way, I never intended to."
"You didn't, I, I, I just didn't wanted to disturb you that's all." She shook her head.
"I was done with my meeting on day one, should have told me YN." He insisted, his thumb caressing the apple on her cheek tenderly, "don't want it to happen again, but you'll tell me when it does, no matter how busy I am, yeah?"
"Yeah." She agreed.
"Have you been sleeping well?" He enquired.
"No, I can't lie down without feeling like my esophagus is burning." She shared. Truthfully. "Doctor said the baby's got way too many hair on their head. I'll give you the picture when we're back in Hampstead."
He cracked a smile, "about that..."
"What?"
"I, I actually forgot what I was about to ask you." He covered up for himself. He wanted to tell her that she can be in the babies life, he can get the agreement terminated and all. But it felt weird.
He knows she wants her own kids, that's why she was hesitant at first. But telling her now would sound wrong. He doesn't know if she wants to be a parent just yet. He'll tell her when he finds a better way to approach this subject.
He also so badly wanted to tell her how he felt. He really, really liked her. Hell and heavens he thought he's borderline already in love with her there. But he just held off. At least for now. It'll be too much for both of them. He actually really wanted her to be around the baby, he's seen how she always tries to look away from the screen at the ultrasound or talk less about the bahy with the doctor. How she asked for him to send pictures of the ultra sound print they got, and now it's her lockscreen.
"do you wanna go back inside?"
"Not really, I don't like weddings." She shrugged, "I told Kayla, 'if I got MIA for after a bit, don't worry'. Do you want to go in?"
He chuckled softly. "No, I don't like weddings either."
"Awh! Why?" She cooed, "sorry, I forgot no questions."
"You've asked me way too many questions, we're way past that." He pointed out.
"And I got no answers to those questions." She added immediately.
"Touché." He looked down sheepishly. "I found out my Fiancé and partner of six years was cheating on me, the morning of the wedding."
"No, that's so fucked up!" She gasped, "I don't get it why people cheat? Like what the hell?"
Harry giggled at her very honest and blunt reaction, "it's alright, I'm over it now." He shrugged. "It was the second time actually. Being cheated on. Wanted to adopt a kid at first but a single man with a busy schedule is not anyone's first choice. Tried for about three years."
"Understandable. I'm so sorry that happened to you."
"Why do you hate weddings?" He diverted the subject to her now.
"My reason is a bit more depressing." She said with her hand into a pinch to say how much more sas her reason is with a slight wink of her eye.
"I'm sure, but I'm here to listen."
"Trauma bonding, are we now?" She nodded her head squinting her eyes, "my mother died when I was six and my little brother was just two-three weeks old. Of course there was a wedding in our house so everyone was away except me, my dad and my mum with my brother, well 'cause she was sick."
"I'm sorry." He mumbled.
"It's fine, I've had twenty years to learn and grow." She shrugged.
"Do you mind me asking what happened?"
"She had a c-section with my brother and the internal stitches ripped open because she was throwing up and coughing so much. I was there when she, uhhh, you know... My dad was out getting us dinner when all of that happened." She moved back a little bit to sit comfortably with her legs criss cross, using the pole as a back rest, her hand resting on her bump as if on autopilot.
Harry just sat there looking at her as he processed all of what she said. She was six. Watched her mother die. That explains her fear of throwing up.
"Don't look at me like that, your green eyes scary." She laughed.
"I'm just trying to process." Harry shared, "What was her name? Your mum's name, I mean."
"Sofia." YN shared.
"That's a beautiful name." Harry cooed and took a moment to mirror how she sat. "Why don't you tell me about her?"
"You want me to talk about my Mummy?" She looked at him puzzled to which he just nodded, "well I've only known her for six years. But she was a doctor like me. A little crazier 'cause my dad told me once she was going for another doctorate. I never want to touch that ever again!"
"So you come from a family of a geniuses." He commented joining her laugh.
"You can say that. She had like three cats, only one of them is still alive. He's old man now. I brought him home on my way back from school he was about three months old, so he's technically my cat. My dad was furious, but who can go against mum's. I mean who's got that kind of audacity, right?"
"Exactly!" He agreed with his own dramatics, "Mum's are the best!"
"Not all of them, my step mother is a total witch. Witch not a bitch. Can't swear like that." She shared. "My mum was the principal of my school. And everyone loved her, obviously. As they all should. That's pretty much it. What else you want to know?"
"She sounds like an amazing person." Harry said. "I'm trying to figure out something though. I wasn't a hairy baby, nor my sister or my mother or dad. How is this baby so hairy? How did doctor Wilson even see that?"
YN looked at him in disbelief, "you failed your science classes by any chance?"
"Yeah, twice but what does that have to with--" he paused, "oh, oh. I'm sorry I didn't to say it like that. I also didn't want to assume. Just looking out for you that's all as you said you can't lie down and--"
"Okay, okay calm down." She stopped him, "it's okay, it's okay."
"Did she tell you what you can do to help with the heartburn?" He asked.
"Nope. Can just hope for the best." She shook her head.
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright. F.Y.I. sir, I was a very fussy baby as well. Good luck with that."
"You're joking?"
"Nope."
"You're joking!"
"I am not."
"Yes you are, you cheeky, you're laughing."
Now she was laughing, "you saw how much I still cry, right?"
He sighed, "yeah."
"We should go back in, they're about to play my favourite song." YN suggested. Harry was up on his feet immediately ready to help her up.
"Yeah? How do you know that?"
"I made the playlist, duh!"
They walked to the wedding party back. Or more like, Harry followed YN like a little smitten little kitten. Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran started playing.
"Would you like to dance with me, ma'am?" Harry offered his hand with extra add on of his charm.
"I'd love to." YN placed her hand in his. Harry took the opportunity to lace his fingers through her in a delicate hold, and slid his other hand around her waist. The baby in between wasn't enough to keep a modest distance.
"This alright?" He whispered as he swayed both of them to the soft tune.
"Mhmm." She nodded.
"What is with you and that doctor?" He asked all of a sudden looking behind her.
"Who? Doctor Jones?" She asked.
"Mhmm."
"Nothing. He's just a nice dude. Why did you ask that?"
"He's been oogling at ya the whole day!" Harry scoffed.
"By the way this is my favourite song." YN tried to change the subject and it worked.
"Is that Ed Sheeran?"
"Yeah!"
"He's one of my best mates." He casually bragged.
"You're kidding?"
"Nope."
"You are kidding!" She gasped.
"I am not. I have his number."
"You have Ed Sheeran's number?" She sounded gobsmacked.
"Yeah."
"Oh my god! Can you get me his signed record?" And she gasped again at her own idea.
"He's on tour right now, but I'll try." He couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, he place her hand in his on his shoulder as he reached to tuck her hair behind her ear again. "You look very pretty tonight, have I told you that?"
"I don't know." She shrugged nonchalantly, but she's screaming inside.
YN tried her best to keep her feelings in check. Like, it's not right. Today though, she did took time to really just take all the feelings in.
Oh boy, did he looked extra, extra dreamy today!
His hair grown out a tiny bit. He now styled his hair in a middle part, his stubble ever so slightly showing. His eyes looked so vibrant and relax, like there were no worries about anything behind them.
And today is about celebrating love too!
He wore a baby blue suit, with his staple white dress shirt. Which is always see through and top three buttons undone. His classic cross necklace, he switched it out to a gold one few weeks ago. And the tattoos on his pecks peeking through as always, which she believed are some kind of birds surrounded by little hairs on his chest.
It was touch of his soft thumb just under her lip which brought her back on earth. His face was just so close to her. That's when someone screamed her name.
"Oh god!" She was spooked.
"It's alright, who is that?" Harry asked looking behind her. It was one of Kayla's childhood friend, Hadleigh.
"YN!" The girl exclaimed as she approached her.
Now, Hadleigh and YN hardly talk to one another. But when they first met, they were really good friends. Until Hadleigh went ahead and shot her shot, telling YN that she had started to like her.
Well, it isn't like YN's not into girls, but she's confused if she's in girls like that in the first place. But most importantly, she wasn't looking for a partner that time (nor is she now unless it's Harry). YN's always been so focused on her career, she never gave going out or being in a relationship a shot ever. It just haven't been her cup of tea to begin with.
Plus, she didn't want to be vulnerable and open to someone.
Hadleigh of course was very understanding and respected her feelings. She got busy with her job as real estate developer. And life went on.
"Hadleigh, so nice to see you!" YN exclaimed.
"Same here," the blue eyed girl smiled as she took YN in for a hug, "I know I missed the ceremony but gosh this is amazing!"
"It is." YN had to agree, the party was lit.
"Oh, you're pregnant!" Hadleigh almost squealed.
"I, uhhh..." YN stuttered, "yeah."
"Congratulations!" She gave YN another hug.
"Thank you." YN smiled not knowing what to say, "this is Harry by the way." YN turned to Harry was stood just half a step behind her. "And Harry, this is Hadleigh. Kayla's kindergarten friend."
"Oh, nice to meet you Hadleigh." Harry approached her with a handshake.
"Nice to meet you too, Harry." Hadleigh shook hands with him. "Oh, looks like the bride is finally free. I'm gonna go talk to her before she gets busy again."
"Yeah sure." YN nodded.
"You want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked once Hadleigh was gone, YN looked exhausted.
"No, I'll just go sit somewhere." She shared.
"Come." He grabbed her hand and guided her to the now empty dining tables set to a side, he pulled a chair for her to sit facing the dance floor, he pulled a chair like he did at the ice cream place on her birthday that night. His knee touching hers.
"Is it really that obvious, I'm pregnant?" She asked, her hand on her swollen belly now really showing she is in fact very pregnant. But she's been feeling insecure lately. She had to run last minute to the tailor to get her dress readjusted, even though it was made keeping in mind she'd grow by the time of the wedding.
Well, she's almost in her third trimester (twenty eight weeks). It was obviously going to show. YN just doesn't want to admit that this time is going way too fast.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused of her sudden change in mood.
"I-- she knew just by looking at me?" She wondered.
"She hugged you, darling." Harry defended her from herself, "I mean it's not a bad thing, is it?"
"No," she shook her head.
"Are they moving now?" He asked.
"Yeah, like crazy!" She sighed, "see!"
Harry carefully kept his hand where her's was, she placed hers on his. He felt a jolt which made him almost jump. "That was strong!" He commented laughing.
"Yeah." YN nodded.
It warmed her heart how he already adored the baby, they aren't even born yet.
And it also makes her heart sore thinking this is the only time she'll get with the baby. She's been contemplating to ask him if she could still see them from time to time. She would be fine if he never told them she's their mother. But it felt wrong.
After all he's just a complete stranger she met through a surrogacy agency website online, got pregnant via IVF, failed one time but worked the second, he paid her for carrying the baby. She's already grown to love the baby so much that it also felt wrong that she did it all for money at first.
She doesn't want him to think she's in with wrong intentions if she asks to see the baby in future.
Though, she's already paid one of the installments to the remaining amount he had lent her. He doesn't know about it, but his accountant and Personal Assistant does.
"You good?" Harry sounded concerned. That's when YN realised her eyes were getting watery as she thought about everything.
"Yeah. Just a little sleepy." She made an excuse, which he surprisingly belived.
"Do you really want to go back to the hotel, YN? You know we can." He suggested.
"No, I'm fine. I promise." She assured him.
They sat there in corner watching the party go on. Until Kayla came and approached YN herself, she was little tipsy but she pulled a chair next to her.
"You look tired." She spoke, "I think should really go and rest."
Harry jumped in too, "that's what I said."
"See, he agrees too." Kayla pointed out. "You need to rest!"
"I know, but I'm having fun just sitting here." YN shared. And she is indeed having fun there.
The party eventually came, newly weds were off to their honeymoon. This was all new to YN, as everything was over in merely three days.
Harry drove YN back to the hotel room. His was booked right next tk hers. They walked as it was just to the walking distance.
"This ended very quickly." She commented.
"Quickly?" Harry got confused.
"The wedding." YN shared, "it went on barely three days, it was just a bachelorette party, then going over some things the next day, then the wedding, this happened really quickly."
"That's a long time."
"No, it's not. Wedding functions usually last for weeks. Not that I like or enjoy any of those, but it was still significantly different experience." She explained.
"Yeah?" Harry sounded in amusement. They reached her room there, it was too quick for Harry's liking.
"Hmm, Indian wedding usually last for about two weeks to a month." YN shared as she opened up the door to her room.
"Have to attend an Indian wedding myself then, eh." He beamed, "I'm just next door to you, call me if you need anything, hmm?"
"I will, thank you." She nodded. "Wait... This is not my room." She checked the card key.
"Got you stuff moved here. It's a lot more comfortable." He explained.
"This is a freaking suite Harry, who's going to pay for it?!" She opened the door and was shocked to see the room.
It had light blocking curtains, a massive bed she doesn't have to now share with Julia. It had it's own sofa and coffee table by what she reckoned is a floor to ceiling glass window.
"I did." He said, "try to get some sleep now darling."
......................................................................
It was middle of the night and YN was craving chocolates.
Now, she can hold herself off till she can get something to eat which she is craving. It was a different kind of urge now. Especially when she couldn't eat the chocolate desserts as they had Rum in it. Kayla almost killed off the caterers for not having a Alcohol free dessert as she asked for specially for her best friend.
YN could go down to the hotel gift shop and buy a very expensive bar of chocolate but she just want to get out of her room. The bed is awfully comfy. And she couldn't sleep because every time she goes to lie down, her stomach acids want to gush out of esophagus. So she called Harry. Sent the man out to get her chocolates. And he did so. The gift shop was closed off he messaged her so he drove to a nearest shop to get her what she wanted. It looked like he bought the whole store when he got back with just more than just chocolates she asked for.
"Is this enough, darling?" He set everything on the little coffee table by the floor to ceiling window which was now closed off by light blocking curtains.
"That's too much Harry!" She walked upto him. "Just asked for a few chocolates."
"Well, I figured you might be hungry as you didn't eat much tonight." He pulled out a few bags of crisps, "usually don't condone eating junk food, but this is the best we can do at two in the morning."
"Thank you!" She cooed and hugged him tight.
Harry was taken back. Not by her hugging him but by the butterflies in his tummy. He hugged her back though. Her hugs are always warm and welcoming.
"Of course, my love." He rubbed her back gently, "why didn't you sleep?"
And she got to opening a bar of chocolate as she sat down on the sofa chair, right next to him. "I can't sleep. Everytime I try, my stomach acids want just gush out." She munched on the chocolate and yawned.
She really needs sleep, but she can't sleep sitting up. It's very dangerous. She might fall off her bed, or sleep in a position which might hurt the baby.
"Oh look," she grabbed a hold on his wrist and place it on her stomach for Harry to feel the punches. "And there goes the jab!"
"Ouch!" Harry almost felt that under his skin, "they're being a trouble maker, aren't they! Go to sleep now, will you little wrestler!"
"What the hell!" YN stopped feeling them move out of nowhere. "Did they just stopped moving?"
Harry chuckled, "they already listen to their Papa, don't they?" His thumb ran gentle strokes over the oversized shirt she wore.
"Yeah." She's in awe again. But took advantage and moved back to relax maybe take in a nap before long car ride back home the next day. Harry got up quickly and got the blanket from the bed.
"C'mere." He sat next to her again with his arm draped onto the back rest of the sofa. YN hesitantly leaned in resting her head on his shoulder as she tried to sleep.
......................................................................
Next morning was chaos.
YN was throwing up so their drive back was delayed. Julia was accompanying them as Harry offered. He saved her the hassle of taking a train back home. So it was now Julia and YN play arguing over some snacks they bought just before getting in the car.
Harry had a great time watching them bicker back and forth without offending one another. He'd act as if he's not paying attention when either of them tried to bring him in their pretend argument, not wanting to be the bad guy.
That was pretty much it for the day.
......................................................................
The very next day was when Harry resumed his duty of taking her to and from work.
He wants to make sure she's safe and sound himself. Sure he trust Jeremy with his own life. But he gets more time to spend with YN.
"Hi!" She greeted him with a warm smile on her in morning when he picked her up.
Harry took to this very lovely breakfast place, one because Lizzie is on a vacation, and two he can't cook to even save his life without burning down his kitchen. He's hungry and he knows she might have not eaten well either.
"I can't believe you out of all people are eating out today!" YN pointed out sipping on her smoothie.
"Lizzie is on a vacation." He shared.
"You didn't cook?" Harry just glanced at her sheepishly, "so you're going to eat out till she comes back?"
"I guess, or maybe I'll crash at my mum's."
She giggled, "come over tonight, I'll make you something to eat."
"You don't have to darling, you're already tired enough." He found her glaring at him, enough to be intimidating. "Alright!"
And that's what they did. Harry picked her up from work and they went straight to grocery shopping, because she didn't had much left at home and they went back to her place.
Julia was home, watching TV.
Harry had figured the blondie is fun to hang out with, she just hated him for reasons he doesn't know. Well, maybe for treating her best friend like crap that night at his bar.
"Hello mamas, how was your day?" She spoke looking behind, "oh look mister grumpy pants is here too!"
"Hello to you too, blondie." Harry waved at her.
"You're staying in tonight, J?" YN asked to which Julia nodded, "I'm making dinner."
"I was just going to order us Pizza!" Blondie gasped in excitement and followed the pair into the kitchen. Harry noticed a few boxes in the kitchen. Like someone was moving out.
"Who's moving out?" He asked.
"The newly weds." Julia shared as YN made a run to the loo. "They got their own place now."
"Awh!" Harry cooed. Both of them took out the ingredients from the bags mean while YN came back, in a civil manner. Civil manner from Julia mostly.
"Can I please have the kitchen to myself?" YN asked as she stepped back in the kitchen. She doesn't like the clutter in kitchen when she's cooking, and knowing her best friend, Blondie would definitely pick a fight with Harry.
"I'll leave." Julia saw herself out to continue watching whatever animal documentary she was watching.
"I'm staying to help." Harry announced as he rolled up sleeves of his white dress shirt. YN said nothing as she handed him an apron, knowing his short costs as much as a month worth of rent.
She started off by chopping onions and tomatoes. Harry's eyes almost started tearing up as he stood there waiting for her instructions to do something.
"Oh my god those onions!" He hissing covering his eyes and making YN laugh.
"Go sit out, I can do this." She told him.
"No, I'm fine. I'm fine." He sniffled. "What are we having though?"
"Okra, which is Bhindee, Roti, rice and Daal." She shared the menu with him.
"Never had that before." He sounded intrigued to try new food, "the most I've had is Biryani, Jeremy's wife made."
"You're missing out." She sighed dramatically.
"Really?"
"Really!"
"Guess we'll have to ask Lizzie to make new foods then." He announced. And he for sure is going to ask his cook to make some new foods.
Harry had a few things to share with her, but given her friend is in other room he figured he'll do that the next day.
Barely two and half months till baby is here, the appointments were now every other week instead of every month. He wanted to know when was she planning to put in her maternity leave.
He just wants her to be comfortable, standing for hours on hours teaching is very fucking tiring. And dealing with teenagers? That's whole new level of difficult in his opinion. Though the summer vacation have already begun, she still went to work.
The cat, Noodle just walked past his legs to YN and lingered around the kitchen as she cooked.
"Can you stir this a few times in between?" YN asked him.
"Yes!" He's been waiting for this, he took on the work. The dinner was done in no time. Even the cat was given it's dinner around the same time.
Harry had a quiet night watching a Dinasaur documentary. YN seemed very interested in that as they all sat on the floor with coffee table as their dining table.
......................................................................
The very next week. Kayla and Josh were back from their honeymoon as they got ready to move out.
Even Julia had found herself a place to move to so she can afford the rent. YN was going to live at Harry's place, as per the contract as she's nearing the due date.
Like promised, Harry took days off to help YN pack up her stuff. She just clothes and a few things to move, like her bed which she sold as she'd have nowhere to keep it. And that was it.
It was pretty emotional leaving the place she called home from past five years. She hoped she'd finally get to go see her dad this summer but maybe she can go during winter break.
Back at Harry's, she got the room she spent a night at once. The closet was empty for her to fill it up.
YN didn't know what was upstairs, maybe Harry didn't used that floor. His bedroom was downstairs, maybe the floor above had guest bedrooms. She remembered Lizzie saying it is a six bedroom house. There were few people working in the other spare room that day. Maybe he's getting the nursery ready.
That thought made YN's heart sink again.
She spent a couple of hours just putting her clothes away from the boxes. She didn't know she had that many clothes, and none of those fit her anyway now. So she placed all of the clothes which don't fit her and she doesn't want to wear in a separate box to donate.
She was just on her last box when Harry came in with tea and a few snacks. He knew she needed to take her vitamins and few other medications doctor have prescribed to her, she needed to eat something for that. They had a very early lunch.
"You want me to help you with those?" He asked as he placed the tray on the ottoman in the closet.
"I'm almost done. Those are for donation." YN explained.
"That's like half of your closet." He pointed out, she just sighed and continued to place last few closed in their shelves. "We'll go shopping tomorrow, yeah?"
"It's fine, I am fine with these for now." She gesture at the clothes she had.
It looked like the closet was empty. She never had a walk in closet before, it was very new to her. She had very limited space at her last place anyway.
"Come on now I got Chai and snacks. Made it just the way you showed me yesterday." He grabbed a gentle hold of her hand as he walked her out. "You want to make any modifications to this room? We should add a study table so you can work comfortably."
"I just have a week and half of work left, don't need a study table. But thank you." She tried her best to smile but all she could think about was the baby she will never see again.
"You alright?" Harry could sense she is in deep thoughts but he let her decide if she wants to share it.
"Yeah, I just need a nap." Maybe she can sleep and her worries would go away. Yeah, she can try that whilst the baby is not moving.
"Okay, but at least eat something, yeah?" He suggested, "I'll be just outside."
"Mhmm." She picked up the mug of chai. She is going to eat before she sleep though.
......................................................................
YN couldn't sleep. So she decided to take a warm shower, got everything ready but she got a call from her dad. She just sat there talking to him for a while.
She hadn't told her dad that the baby was her's too, and she wasn't just carrying it for a couple. Not that he would be mad, but she just wanted someone to share it with. Someone who she shared that close bond with.
They talked about her little brother's latest behaviours, how he's getting back on track and getting the help he needs. Her dad shared that he went upto him to talk about it. YN was relieved from that worry of her. Her dad also shared how her brother was interested in modeling and that he's gone to a few casting too and all that stuff. He also shared that the doctors gave him a pass that he can go work in person in a next few months given his very fast recovery.
YN was over the moon hearing that. That was the reason she took that very big decision.
She had a nice cry and stayed in her designated room all night, sulking in her bed.
At least she got some sleep.
Harry didn't bother her until the next morning when she had breakfast in her room. He went to check in on her and take her shopping like he said last night. He managed to convince her to with him. But that was it.
......................................................................
Harry had managed to get YN's input on the nursery, which was very slowly coming together. He didn't mind if it was finished before the baby is here, because they won't be sleeping alone for a long time. She helped him build the cot, the dresser and changing table after the room was painted.
It was all wholesome and animal themed, on her suggestion. The room was already filled with a load of sensory toys, stuffed animals and loads of story books. The half of the room was already being planned to be padded with crash pads and a pretty soft rug on top and a small play fence. Everything was baby proof in the entire house already.
He was working from home now so he could do rest of work himself. Of course he encouraged YN to help him because all she did was sulk in her room after she was done working. But now she's not working. Her summer break as teacher had begun and she'd miss the next semester due to her maternity leave.
Just two weeks and half to the due date. It was rhe thirty-ninth week, almost fortieth.
"I don't know mum." YN overhead Harry talking to his mother about something. He was on his laptop looking for something, "yup that's great idea, I'll ask the doctor." She reckoned it must be about the baby so she waddled carefully towards him.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"I don't know which diapers to get. What if little bean has sensitive skin?" He whined in concern.
YN tried to hold back her laugh but failed, "get the reusable cotton ones. But yeah, you'll have to wash like a fifty of them at least twice a day."
"Is that really a good choice then?" He asked, now intrigued.
"Hmm." YN nodded. "I've usually seen grandma's making cloth diapers from used cotton clothes for babies. It's not harsh on their skin. I looked after my brother when he was a baby and my dad and grandma prohibited the use of single use diapers, unless we were going out or something. I've heard from a few friends back home that now you can buy those online too."
"Yeah?" He was impressed, "how many do you think will the baby need?"
"The more the merrier." She shrugged and started waddling back in kitchen.
There was a lot of left over noodles left in the fridge from lunch, which Lizzie left because she had leave early due to some emergencies. Or that all would go to the homeless in the community. The lady hated seeing the food go to waste.
Harry followed after her. He found her new waddle adorable. "You having dinner?"
"Yeah, you want me to heat up some for you too?" She asked as she took out the container.
"Yeah," he nodded, "do you want to watch a movie or something?" To which she surprisingly agreed.
He's been worried about her lately spending all her days in her room. Making up excuses so she can be in her room. They ate and sat watching The Witcher together on the sofa.
Harry had her tucked closer to him with his hand on the bump. Both were getting comfortable with one another. It was getting harder and harder for Harry to find a way fast enough to confess his feelings for her. He doesn't want it to be too late, but he barely knows how to. With a baby in mix.
He is in a complicated situation.
So is YN. She's grown comfortable around him. It's difficult when he's got to go for in person meeting last minute. She's gotten used to his antiques and how he bugs her every other hour to eat something or just do something with him. He's also managed to get her out for a nice walk, luring her with promises of ice cream. Which worked all the time.
She knows she's way past her infatuation, crush, and like phases with him. She's halfway sure she's in love with him. It was new.
She's only been with one person before but it only lasted for barely three months. She's been through the first few stages, but not this.
And there is a baby in the mix. Everything is happening backwards or out of order to confuse her even more.
But she's sleepy because has stopped moving for a few minutes now, or at least they've stopped kicking and punching her insides. She's learned to. She snuggled closer to Harry as her eyelids got heavier and heavier, until she was fast asleep.
......................................................................
It was the forty-first week. Harry and YN were out on a walk to go get ice cream. He had just gotten home from his last minute meeting. Lizzie so nicely offered to stay with her until he's back home. He hadn't even got to change as he directly to serving YN the dinner before he took her out to ice cream place.
They met his elderly neighbours who thought that he's got a wife now, they congratulated the couple as they walked past after a few minutes of talking. It was awkward, but made YN feel silly and giddy inside.
Turned out they know Harry very well, but the elderly couple seemed to be in hurry before either them could say anything. The walk to and from ice cream shop was slightly awkward. But they had to hurry back as YN was felt a sharp contraction.
Highly likely, it wasn't a Braxton Hicks thing, given the baby could arrive anytime.
YN wanted to be back in comfort of her bed in case anything happens. And Harry said he wanted to talk about something to her, maybe share something.
Maybe it was about how she'll have to leave the baby now. Maybe there were a few legal obligations. She had so many maybe's running through her mind in that moment. And Harry forgot about it in worries of what was happening.
Her contractions kept getting closer and closer rapidly every hour and half. It wasn't until her water broke. She was in bathroom luckily.
YN started panicking inside. She's not the one to scream when in pain, but she is wincing. It felt like her period cramps were on some heavy drugs and steroids.
"Hey, hey look at me." Harry tried to get her attention, "breathe with me, darling, it's okay." He did the rapid breathing exercises with her a few times before he got to getting the hospital bag. Even stuffed a spare outfit managed to get in the bag.
The drive to the car was painful and slow. There was no traffic given it was four in the morning. Harry had to drive carefully. He just hated seeing her cry in pain like that, getting flashbacks. This time the baby is healthy, YN is healthy. He parked closee to the entrance.
"Help me out please." YN mumbled.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry hurried out, but another contraction hit her. "It's okay, breathe baby." He held her hand tightly.
"It hurts, it hurts so bad!" She is crying, tears falling down her cheeks and all.
"It is going to hurt more if you keep holding your breath, darling." He rubbed his hand on her back.
She sighed, "I'm good, I'm good." Announcing she carefully stepped out of the car.
Harry followed her behind closely because she said she can walk just fine. Or waddle just fine enough. They were just halfway through the maternity department when another contraction hit her.
She stopped mumbling, grabbing onto Harry for support.
YN knew she can't handle this pain, she can only imagine how it would be pushing a heavy ass baby out through her vagina. It was going to hurt even more. A lot more. She can't do that now. Can she back off?
"We're so close love, you think you can walk?" Harry asked.
"Yes." She nodded and walked to the reception where they were checked in.
YN was asked to change into a hospital gown immediately and checked on. She was dilating on a good pace, and she was advised to move around to speed up the process even faster. She paced back and forth in the room but her pain was getting worse every passing contraction.
"You, you want to call your family and tell them?" YN suggested as she sped walked up and down in the labour and delivery room.
"I will do that later, YN," he shared, "you can ask for the epidural, you know?"
"I know, I know, just not now." She sniffled on her tears, but she broke down crying sat on the edge of hospital bed.
"Hey, c'mere." He hugged her, "everything is going just fine."
"I don't know, I don't know if I can do this." She sobbed, "I want to have a C-section. I can't do this."
"It's more risky, darling." Harry was surprised, "you can do this."
"Just talk to the doctor for me, please--" another contraction hit her right in the crotch.
And Harry did. After all it's her body, she can decide whatever. Given she's in agony and her decisions might not be right. He wouldn't invalidate her feelings like that. But Doctor Wilson adviced against her idea, unless there is an emergency, because honestly it had more risks to her. That made her real upset.
"Hey, you know there are cons to it." Harry cooed as he sat next to her, "the recovery time is longer, it's more painful, there are more chances of hemorrhage. I know you can do it."
"I don't care, I just want them to healthy."
"They're healthy, love, look you can see and hear their heartbeats there." He pointed at the heart monitor which was keeping track of the baby's heartbeat.
It was half past six in the morning, when YN finally gave in and asked for an epidural at eight centimetres dilation. Harry was asked to step out just so the room is clear and the procedure is done without any interruptions. It took them a whole hour to call him back in. Meanwhile he called his mother and asked her to come over if she could, he honestly didn't know what he could do. YN was in so much pain and it was getting just as hard on him to watch. He cried on the phone call with his mum.
But just a few minutes later YN seemed less stressed. "How are you feeling now?"
"Can't feel much waist down." She chuckled slightly, "this is why I waited so long to get the epidural."
"At the pain is less now, right?"
"Mhmm."
"You want anything?" He sniffled.
"You were crying?" She realised, "no, why are you crying Harry, the baby is fine."
"I know, I know." He nodded, "I'll get you more ice chips, yeah, just five minutes?"
"Okay."
Harry so badly wanted to tell her that he cares about her as well there. He is crying of two reasons, the baby is going to be here today and he just can't see her suffer like that. His mum was there by that time. She brought him coffee and said Gemma was on the way with breakfast for everyone.
Harry just couldn't bring himself to eat until way after the baby is here. But it was nice of his sister. His mum went out to get more bottles of water whilst he brought the ice chips to YN. He noticed the contraction were way harder than he last checked but she wasn't hissing in pain like before rather she lied there with her eyes closed.
"Hey YN, you want anything?" He asked again handing her cup.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you for this." She smiled.
"Those are higher than the last time I checked." He looked at the monitor again.
"It's feels like period cramps now." She shared, "it's bearable."
"That great!" He flashed his dimply smile finally. "Now, I, I-- to be honest I don't know what to do or say, so I just asked my mum to come over. She can be a great help, I, I can just call her in if you need to talk to her about anything which she can help with."
"No, you didn't had to bother her. I'm fine." A crease formed between her brows, a look of worry. He should asked his family to come visit after the baby was here, especially his mother. She bet the lady has more important work to do than be there to help her.
"It's alright, love." It was his mother. Pretty evident as Harry looks like a copy of her. "You're not a bother." She placed the water bottles on the side table. "I'm Anne, Harry's mum."
"Hello, I'm YN," she greeted her with a smile, "I feel bad now."
"It's okay, you can tell me what you need. I had two kids of my own, so I bet I can be pretty good help." Anne smiled.
She waited around the back as nurse checked on YN twice already. Harry sat next to her on the edge of her bed. His mum of course knew everything, he told her before he even told YN about it. In hope she might have a way to help him. She tried but he is just too anxious for that.
"What are you going name them?" She asked.
"Have a few names picked out, you want to help me?" He pulled out his phone and opened his notes app before she could say anything. "Let me know if you have any suggestions too." He handed her his phone. He had a list of ten names each for boy and girl and some just neutral names.
"You sure you want me to have a look?"
"Of course!" He shrugged.
Another good few hours went by, YN was starting to feel more pain but it was not something crazy. She was finally given a green flag for pushing. It wasn't as painful as she thought it would be due to the epidural she got, though she's sure it's gonna kick once it wears off. She didn't know how long she has been pushing for or now many were needed, all she thought about the baby's health. A nurse placed a clean towel over her chest.
YN panicked as the baby didn't started crying immediately, but they did once their back was rubbed. It was a loud high pitched scream cry.
"It's a girl!" Doctor Wilson announced as she placed the girl on her chest and YN stopped breathing in that moment.
That shouldn't have happened. They should have taken the baby away immediately. Now she was holding onto her, she doesn't want to let go. She started sobbing too.
"She does have a lot of hair." Harry commented, that's when YN realised she wasn't alone in the room with the new baby girl, her crying had gotten down to just few whimpers.
"Yeah!" YN cooed.
"Alright, YN a few more pushes for the afterbirth." Doctor Wilson caught her attention and someone was picking up the girl off her chest.
"No, no don't take her please." YN panicked, "please!"
"Can we please hold her longer?" Harry asked the nurse who of course agreed to it. YN held onto the girl the entire time until the pediatrician said they really have to weigh and check on the baby.
Harry stayed by her side as his mum was there whilst they checked the baby girl. YN looked at him confused. "You want some water?" He fetched her the bottle of water, "you did so amazing, she's here. It's a girl!"
"Like you wanted." YN nodded.
......................................................................
YN was all changed up into a clean hospital gown. She was given a very hearty meal.
The baby girl weighed nine pounds and eight ounces, no wonder why YN couldn't walk by the very end. She's definitely got a lot of hair on her head.
YN wasn't asked to feed her, hell, she haven't even got to see her again even though they're in the same room. She have been bleeding very bad so her stay at the hospital will be by the next evening. It was way past afternoon now. Harry has been going back and forth between her and the baby girl. She had asked him to talk to the pediatrician saying she's fine there as the nurse checked on her.
She doesn't even know what's her name is going to be.
"Ms. YLN, do you have family or friends we can call up for your discharge next day?" A nurse asked YN, everyone knows it's just a surrogacy case. By the talk of nurse, looked like Harry could take the baby home by tonight or even by early evening.
"Yeah, I, I'll call my friend." She nodded. The lady then proceeded to ask her questions on her pain levels, how she was feeling.
"Alright, we'll move you to the recovery room but you are advised to walk around every hour or so, for as much as you physically can." The nurse explained, "please don't push yourself to do more than you can."
"I will." YN nodded again. She tried to get off her bed and go find her phone in the mess which was the sofa chair now. It was painful, every step but she has to move around anyway, it wasn't certainly her first time out of bed after giving birth. She can say it was teeny bit less pain. She found her phone to text Julia to come over toni to the hospital. "Hello."
"Hey sexy, what's up?" Julia spoke.
"Just had the baby few hours ago." YN shared, talking as low as she could, "can I please ask you for a favour?"
"Sure, what's up?"
"I want you to come pick me up tomorrow, they want to keep me here overnight so I don't bleed out." YN shared, "and uhhhh... I'll also be needing help to get, ummm... my clothes and stuff the next morning. I, I promise I'll be out as soon as I find a flat."
"Are you kidding me?" Is the first thing Julia yelled, "isn't Harry going to be taking care of the afterbirth thing too?"
"I don't know. I forgot. I'm just feeling so alone right now. I don't want to bother him, he's with the baby and his mum." YN was trying hard not to cry. "Please come and see me?"
"I, I will as soon as I get off work, yeah?" Julia now sounded worried, "I'll ask if I can clock out early."
"Thank you!"
"Don't mention it, I'll be there. I promise!"
"Okay." She hung up the call.
"Hey, what are you doing out of bed love?" She heard Harry, "you feeling better now?"
"Yeah." She sounded walking back to the bed, "nurse said I'll be moved to the recovery room. They want to keep here for the night."
"No, what's wrong?" He followed her, baby in his arms. YN watched Anne leave whilst on a phone call, "what did they say?"
"It's nothing, I, I am bleeding too much." She shared, "I, I should probably go to the bathroom now."
"You want me to call the nurse?"
"No, I'll be fine." YN walked to the loo as fast as she could. When she came out the baby was crying and whining. The nurses were in and out of the room since they got there, she is already overwhelmed enough.
"Do you know how to swaddle her?" Harry sounded terrified, "changed her nappy, I don't know what's going on!"
"Let me see." She went ahead and put the new baby in a warm cosy swaddle.
"That's incredible!" Harry gasped, "look at her, all cosy now."
"Yeah." Baby girl is still whining. She's defin hungry. "Did she eat anything?"
"No, I wanted to ask if, if you wanted to breastfeed her. Only if you're fine." Harry shared, "the nurse is gone to bring the formula just incase."
"You'd be fine with that?"
"You sound surprised. Of course I'd be fine with that." He doesn't know what is going on. "I mean it's your choice at the end."
"I, I know--" before she could say anything further the nurse was back. But she rather ended up showing YN now to feed the baby.
That made her feel like dying now as she watched the baby nurse from her breast. She's in an awful state in that moment. But the baby had a full tummy, was burped and lied on her cot. It's exhausting being born, isn't it!
"Hey, what is going on YN?" Harry asked, finally.
"Nothing, I told you."
"It's not nothing. You're spacing out, come on talk to me darling." He cooed as he sat on the edge of her bed, "what did you mean they're going to move you to the recovery room? I don't know what is going on."
"You're not going home with her?"
"Not without you, no." He seemed more confused, "I'm more confused, YN."
"The nurse told me to call family or friends so they can take me home the next day." She shared, "I, I guess you can take her home in a few hours."
"You're coming home. Can't leave you like this here." He is now getting mad, "I told you I'm going to take care of you after the baby is here as well, didn't I? Not going to leave you alone. Little bean needs you, I need you."
"Why did she said it like that then?" She looked at him with eyes pooled up with tears.
"I'll talk to them," he assured her, "I know why she said it like that. I promise you I'm not going to leave you here. Why didn't you tell me before, hmm?"
"You were with you mother and baby, didn't wanted to bother you."
"I'm sorry you felt that way, but you're never a bother. Especially to me." He pushed her baby hair out of her face, "we'll go to the recovery room, have something to tell you."
"Okay." YN nodded, "I, I need to tell Julia, I, I called as I panicked. I'm sorry."
"It's alright." He assured her again, "you can ask your friends to come see her when we're out of here so it's more comfortable."
Harry made sure to make it clear that the baby and the mother are going to stay until she is discharged too, and that she is to be treated kindly there. He's seen a few nurses there being mean to her. Just because they knew little bean is related to her too and she was just giving away her child like that. Those nurses had a shift change anyway.
Gemma came over to see the baby too, she came with warm and healthy lunch. It was from a restaurant as she burnt the lasagna she was making on accident, hence why Anne hurried out. Least to say Gemma cried holding little bean.
"Is that hair underneath the hat?" She slightly pushed the hat back to check, "oh my god, yeah!"
"Yeah, got that from her mum." Harry bragged, YN almost choked on the water she was drinking hearing him say that.
Both of the ladies stayed till the last visiting hours. Finally there was quietness. Little bean had yet another meal, and is now laying on YN's shoulder. She's also been already holding up her head, and opening her eyes. She got those from Harry. Her fluffy cheeks had the slightest of the dimples.
It was a Styles trademark now, the dimples.
"When we get back," Harry spoke catching YN's attention, "I wanted to ask you a few things, make sure you're fine with them."
"Mhmm."
"I don't quite know how to help, this is obviously new. So I looked into it, found out about the Doula, they come in and help with the postpartum period, help take care of the baby. It'll be healthy for you and her." He tried his best to explain it in a best way possible, "I, I also know it's a huge part of the culture where you're from. We can or not go with the confinement thing, however you prefer it. So if you're fine with that, or we can figure it out as we go."
"No, no, I'd really like that." YN agreed, "frankly I don't know what to do either, I'm more tired now."
"We can stay in our little bubble until you recover and she's a bit older then, yeah?" He suggested, "and also, I've been wanting to ask you this for a while."
"Hmm, what?"
"I, I know you did not sign up for this. Was thinking of terminating the agreement you signed." He was holding onto his breath tightly, readying himself for her reaction, "I, I think she'd be more happier to have her second parent around."
"Really?" She's now crying again. The baby can call her Mumma now.
"Mhmm, I've already told my lawyer to get on it." He explained and a few more things, "we'll just have to sign the discharge papers and her birth certificate tomorrow before we take her home."
It warmed his heart to see how much little bean is loved already. The first time he got to hold her, all of the air was sucked out of his lungs. So tiny, and she felt warm against him, just how she moved her head to find a comfortable position to sleep on in his arms, hopefully feeling safe and sound.
It was a rainbows and unicorns moment for him. He thought he wouldn't be able to feel that connection with her, though she's a whole new person. He needs time to get to know her. It was all unexplainable.
It made him furious seeing how she's been treated by some of the nurses today, but it all sorted now. He dropped a quick message to his assistant to get the Doula on board. He found someone just perfect. It was an Indian lady around his mum's age with decades and decades worth of experience. It would also make YN feel at home.
Even though he stayed away from making his own conclusions, he could tell YN was slipping away in her thoughts with the baby. He's seen how bonded she already was and he'd hear her randomly talking to bump, or taking pictures in the mirrors around the house. Her initial decision of declining his offer has always been enough to remind him. She held back on so many of her opinions.
He wanted to hear them all. He figured it would be very unfair for both baby girl and YN to be away from one another.
"Is it going to be me visiting her every weekend? Or how, how do you want it to go?" YN asked.
"About that..." Harry shuffled in his seat, which has been the same since they got to the hospital, right on the edge of her bed. "Can I hold your hand for this?" And he grabbed a hold of her hand which didn't had a IV needle in it. "Don't want you slapping me across the face."
"I would never!" She gasped making him chuckle sheepishly.
"Just kidding." He took in a deep breath. "I want to make that everyday. I'm going to be so bad at this, at least for a while. But I've grown fond of you. So, so, so fond of you, couldn't realise when I fell in love with you. I want to be with you if you want that. Things are not planned but they can be figured on the way. We can do this together." He doesn't even want to think about her rejecting him.
"Wait," a blank look on her face made him more and more anxious. She's just processing he reckoned. "You're saying you like me?"
"Yeah..." He tried to process her question too, "well, it's more than that actually."
"You like me?" She asked again, emphasising the first and last word of her question.
"Let's switch that like for love, then yes. Most definitely, yes!" He said, little firmly. She just looked so flabbergasted.
"So you don't like me?" She spoke overwhelmed of everything in that moment, "wait, what? My brain just... What?" That made Harry giggle.
"Is it that hard to believe I'd ever say that?" He asked.
"Never imagined you'd say that, to me." She scoffed in disbelief, she still doubts he might be pranking her.
"And why would you say that?"
"I don't know," she sighed almost on the edge of crying, "I've been nothing but mean to you all this time, even though I didn't mean to. I'm sorry I don't mean to cry either, I don't know what is going on!" And the water works started.
"Awh, darling it's alright!" Harry cooed and immediately pulled her in a hug, he recieved one right back, "today have been so overwhelming for you, I know that but couldn't wait till tomorrow. We have to sign up the paper work and I reckoned it would be bad idea to put you in spot on the last moment, in case you have changed your mind about anything."
"No, I, I will not." She shook her head now sniffling. "Did you really mean what you said?"
"Every single word." He placed a feathery kiss on top of her head. He would be contained if she doesn't feel the same way, he at least tried. "I love you. More than a friend, more than just being mum of our new girl."
YN squeezed him tighter. Would be too awkward to tell him she loves him too? Why would it be awkward? She would sound stupid, wouldn't she?
"I love you." She mumbled.
"I love you!" He chuckled softly squeezing her right back.
"Oh, my back hurts." She shared pulling away from their hug. Her back really did hurt, every bone in her body hurt in that moment.
"Oops, sorry," he helped her with the pillows behind her back.
The baby girl softly sighing in her sleep right next to YN's hospital bed caught his attention. Her small mouth curled up in a O as she let out a long breath.
"It's tiring being born, isn't it?" Harry pulled the cot closer so he can place a kiss on his baby's head. She squirmed raising her swaddled legs kicking him right in the face, earning a gasp from him. "Oh, now I know how your Mummy felt."
"Hey she's just a baby!" He heard YN from behind.
"Yeah you two are going to team up against me." He surrendered in defeat already. "Just want to hold her for hours."
"She'll get used to it and won't let you sleep." YN shared. He agrees. She needs space to grow, he can be smothering all the time.
"A little smothering can be excused." He shrugged giving his full attention to her now. "This is going all backwards, isn't it?" He moved closer, holding her hand close to his heart after he placed a kiss on her knuckles.
"Doesn't matter though."
"No it doesn't." He smiled at her. "It's nearly dinner time, the Doula will be here anytime now."
"You already called her?" She looked rather shocked, "whem did you do that?"
"Texted my PA, and I got a text from her when you were feeding Bean, firmly warning me from giving you anything other than water." He shared.
"She's going to be the ultimate mama bear." YN giggled.
She's seen her Nani, her mum's mum looking after her daughters and her grand daughters during their postpartum confinement. It seems to be brutal that she has to give up icecream for the next six weeks, and burgers, and pizza, and every one of her favourite junk food, nothing but warm healthy food she'll be eating. It's going to be tough, but she signed up for it when she agreed.
Of course it isn't her Nani so it's going to be different she reckoned.
"Are we going to keep calling her Bean?" She asked.
"Not quite settled on any names you picked out." He said, "which one do you like the most? You chose, Starla, Evara and Juniper."
"I don't know." She shrugged.
"Come on, help me out here." He affirmed, "you know we're in this together."
"Okay, how about you pick from Juniper or Starla?" She shortened the list for him.
"Hmm, lets see." He looked at the baby for a second and back to YN. "Looks like she's meant to be named..." She looked at him eagerly, so hoping he'd pick her favourite name, "...Juniper?"
"Yeah!" She exclaimed, beaming at him now. "Is she going to have a middle name? It's a thing here right?"
"Don't you have a middle name?"
"I don't. We use our dads, or most recently either one of our parents name on the legal documents and stuff, otherwise no middle name." She explained.
"Shes definitely going to have a middle name." He nodded, "I have it picked out already."
"You do?"
"Mhmm, it's going to be a surprise for you till the morning." He leaned in closer, hoping he could steal a kiss finally.
"Okay--" before she could say anything there was a knock on the door. It was the Doula.
"Hello, I'm Mrs. Nimrit Singh." The lady introduced herself. Right off the bat, she had a very homely vibe to her, "I am the doula you contacted."
"Oh yes, I am Harry." Harry introduce himself, "and this is YN."
"Hello beta." She greeted YN with a bright smile and a warm hug.
"Hello," YN smiled back, all of a sudden feeling her anxiety and stress about how she'd deal with everything related to her postpartum. "This is Juniper."
"She's absolutely precious!" Mrs. Singh awed at the chubby baby sleeping in her cot.
"She is." Harry agreed.
"I brought you two dinner." She said, "and I also be wanting to know when you two will be going home so I can prepare accordingly."
"Doctor Wilson said we'll be discharged by tomorrow evening." YN shared and few more things Mrs. Singh asked for.
"Okay then, I'll bring breakfast in the morning." Mrs. Singh announced, "and Harry I want you to make sure she gets enough sleep and she doesn't drink or eat anything cold, it's not healthy for her or the baby."
"I will do that." Harry nodded, "no ice cream for you then Missy."
"No!" YN whined.
"Just six weeks and you can eat whatever you want." Mrs. Singh assured her, it melted YN's heart.
"Okay." She made a puppy face.
They all ate dinner together, getting to know one another as they'll be spending next month and half to two months together. Mrs. Singh is a very lovely lady, calm and bubbly at the same time. She stood shorter, graying hair at her hairline, pretty gray eyes held so much motherly love behind them. She also wanted to in and check herself jf the house was ready enough for the baby and the mother, ready a warm bath and stuff. It was all new to Harry but YN seemed to know what she was talking about there.
Mrs. Singh bonded well with YN and Harry. Apparently fathers go through a lot too during the postpartum, so she had asked him to tell her anything which is bothering him like she's his mother.
"Mrs. Singh, our house keeper and chef Lizzie will be there by five-thirty to six tomorrow if you needed anything." Harry shared as the lady was getting ready to leave for the night. "I'll let the guard know you'll be there."
"Thank you." She smiled again. She stayed for well over three hours before she left.
"She reminded me of my Mumma." YN shared, "she talks like her. She's even got gray eyes like my Mumma."
"Yeah? That's nice, isn't it?" Harey went and sat back on his place next to her, "I quite like her too, love her jokes."
YN moved to a side to make space for him, she patted the pillow, "come on."
"You sure?"
"Mhmm." And he got in, as he pulled her closer with his arm around her shoulder.
"You know this is probably the best day of my life." He shared.
"Is it?"
"Hmm." He sounded in agreement, "just took me too long to tell you how I feel. You've been anxious all day today."
"It's nothing, I forgot about it."
"Hope you at least could experience this to the fullest." He looked down to find him already looking at him, "you know the birth and all."
"Well, it was too enjoyable getting ripped open down there, but once doctor Wilson placed her on my chest it was everything!" And she'd give everything to experience that moment over and over again.
"Felt the same way when I held her for the first time." He shared too, "she was still whimpering, but calmed down as soon as I held her."
"You're her favourite."
"Oh come on, don't be jealous." He rolled his eyes jokingly.
"Don't roll your eyes at me." She scoffed.
"Bean's mummy is my favourite too." He gave her a cheeky smile making her blush, she hugged him tight in response. "Hey, look at me please?"
"Yes?" She raised her head yet again to look at him action nonchalant, that earned a laugh from him.
"Promise me we'll give everything to make this work?" He intertwined his fingers with hers over his tummy, "if this, for any reason doesn't work out, we'd work together for Bean?"
Harry's anxiety about this has been all time high, since he came to terms with his feelings. He's been cheated on twice, went through messiest breakups, he wants Juniper to have the best life as possible. Regardless of what happens to him.
"Don't want to jinx anything. You know I've stayed away from all this for long now." He continued, "just to give this a try with you. Hopefully it works out."
"Why won't it?" She said, "I know I'm not in place to say this, but everything works out at the end and if doesn't it's fine. Well, I just need a moment to freak out a little before, you know that's just how I function. We can make this work."
"Don't know how you do this." He just shook his head in disbelief, not even twelve hours ago she has been freaking out, wanting be cut open thinking it'll be easier way out. "We can make this work, yeah."
"Yeah, that's the attitude!" She hyped him up. He knows it's her teacher side coming out.
"I didn't want it to be this way, but will you be my girlfriend, YN?" He leaned in closer to just feel her warmth.
"Mhmm." She rested her forehead on his. It was enough for him to make the first move, place his lips on hers. Butterflies made their way upto her head from her tummy making her brain grow fuzzy for a moment.
"Waited so long for this too." He mumbled before he was kissing her again, feeling her hand rest over his cheek. He eventually pulled away to let her breathe. "Think we should try and get some sleep?" He placed a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose.
"Yep."
......................................................................
Harry and YN slept all fine the entire night. In fact YN was still asleep when Bean woke up. She was given her vaccines and checked on once again. She's all healthy and fit to go to her home. They were being discharged just before breakfast.
Harry forgot the car seat at home, so he asked Jeremy to get it who so kindly agreed too. Harry got all the paper work done, his lawyer had already had the previous agreement terminated first thing this morning.
"And what will be her full name?" The nurse asked. YN looked at Harry because she doesn't know her middle name yet.
"It will be Juniper Sophia Styles." Harry spoke, "or it can be YLN-Styles, YN?"
"Oh, I," she was flabbergasted again, "I, I don't mind."
"It'll be YLN-Styles please." Harry told the nurse, even spelled out the name. Just a few signatures later they were walking out with the baby and their stuff. Harry held the bag with his arm around YN's waist as she had Bean in her arms.
They're just gonna call her Bean. It suits her more. She is a bean.
"You picked my mum's name to be her middle name?" YN asked and she waddled next to him.
It is still painful to walk okay!
"Of course I did, darling." Her agreed.
"Is that the new baby!" Jeremy gasped.
"She is!" YN cooed walking over to him.
"Oh she's precious!" Who knew Bean would melt a tough looking six and half feet bulky guy awing like a little person, but she did. "Can I hold her?"
"Of course you can!" YN handed Bean to him carefully as she helped Harry with the bags. Yep, they came with one bag but are leaving with two as the hospital gave YN some stuff which she needs, like medications, sanitary products, there was a pump and jar or formula just in case. There was a lot of stuff.
The car ride home was peaceful and calm, Bean was awake just staring at her mum sitting next to her, but she's mostly sleepy. She's all bundled up even though it's a little warmer on Mrs. Singh's advice. She needs time to adjust because it has always been warm in her mummy's belly. Her tiny hands were in tiny mittens and there was tiny beanie on her head which her Aunty Gemma knitted just for her by hand.
Jeremy drove as Harry was sat in the passenger seat.
They're going home.
YN is both anxious and excited to see what life has in store in future. At least she wouldn't have to leave her baby and act like she doesn't exist for the rest of her life. That was like the universe worth of weight lifted off her back.
......................................................................
N O T E :
Phewwww! It took longer than I expected to finish!
If you kept up with this story, this is the last part. There won't be more parts of these.
I might do little check-ins with them, if I get enough requests and responses. If not then I won't. I left it on an open ending.
......................................................................
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Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 2)
Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 2)
Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.
A.K.A - An arranged marriage fic :)
Pairing: Billy Russo x You
Rating: R
Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)
Chapter Two
A week had passed since your wedding day and you were finally getting the hang of maneuvering around Billy in the penthouse you shared with him. Not that it was cramped, it was a fucking mansion really. A wedding gift from Alistair, and located in the same neighbourhood as him. Of course you saw right through the ruse. It was a convenient way to keep watch over you; you wouldn’t be surprised if the man had cameras in the suite too. You did spend a day looking for them but the search turned up empty. Oh well. If the old man got his jollies from that then so be it.
After resigning last week, you had spent the last few days moving in and getting settled. It was the first time in years where you actually had time to relax and you took full advantage of it, lounging by the pool in the private rooftop terrace everyday. It was heaven, but you had to remind yourself not to get used to it. This was temporary, nothing more. Even with the millions you would be paid after the divorce, there was no way you’d spend it on something so frivolous like a luxury apartment. That wasn’t your style.
You entered the suite and headed to the kitchen to grab something to drink. It was almost one in the morning and you had just returned from dinner with some of your college friends. They had arranged the get together last minute after finding out about your wedding. The first half of the night was just them drilling you about why you hadn’t told them you were dating Willliam Russo. One of them found out about the wedding through some bougie New York society blog and they were hurt you hadn’t invited them. Of course you couldn’t tell them about the arrangement, that was part of the NDA you signed with Alistair, so you made up some nonsense about the two of you falling madly in love after you treated Alistair and deciding to elope in a mad whim. It was bullshit, but your friends ate it up. You did feel a slight twinge of guilt for lying to them, but, whatever. They didn’t need to know everything about you.
You poured a glass of wine for yourself and took a sip. An appreciative sigh escaped you. God, these rich snobs knew good wine. You had almost emptied the glass when you heard loud yelling. Curious, you sauntered outside the kitchen to find the source - a tall, leggy blonde storming down the spiral staircase, screaming.
The entire upper floor was Billy’s territory, and he’d warned you to stay the fuck away from the very first day you’d moved in. Apparently the same instructions didn’t apply to the other woman.
“Fuck you, Billy! I hope you fucking die!”
Amused, you regarded the scene in front of you as Billy took his time coming down the staircase. He was dressed in a black wifebeater and jeans, and appeared unbothered by his date telling him to die. Damn. This was fun. You really did revel in other people’s drama.
“Who the fuck are you?” the blonde demanded as soon as she saw you.
“His wife,” you responded.
The woman turned around to confront Billy who was now a few feet away. “You’re married? You slept with me yesterday, asshole!”
“Ouch!” you remarked, making a face. “That’s harsh.”
Billy cast a scornful glance at you before grabbing the other woman by the arm. “What part of we’re fucking done don’t you understand?” His voice was pure ice as he pulled her to the door. “Don’t show up here next time, Gwen. Or I’ll make sure you never book another modeling gig again.”
You cocked your eyebrow as he practically threw the woman out before slamming the door shut in her face. Shit. That was cold. You felt badly for the Gwen woman, she didn’t deserve to be humiliated like this. Now the same asshole was approaching you, flashing the same disdain. A slow feeling of dread crept over you but you kept your calm, refusing to cower. “You really know how to treat your women well, don’t you?”
Stopping right in front, eyes darkened with contempt, he looked down at you. “Next time keep your mouth shut in front of my guests.”
You snickered. “Or what? You’ll throw me out too?”
“Happily.”
“We both know that won’t go over well with your Granddad.” Smug, you sidestepped past him and headed back to the kitchen. To your surprise, he followed behind you.
“There’s only so much bullshit I’ll put up with.”
You laughed, rinsing off the wine glass in the sink. “I think you’ll put up with a lot to get your hands on his money.”
“You’re gonna judge me after you married a fucking stranger for money?”
You turned towards him again. “Guess that makes us both gold diggers.”
There was that beat of silence again, when his eyes grew darker and his expression turned blank and he simply stared at you like he was contemplating your torturous death in multiple ways.
“Are you just gonna be hanging around here the entire time?” he finally asked. “I thought you were a fucking surgeon or something. Don’t you have people to cut up?”
“I quit.”
A snide sneer curved his lips. “Of course.”
Usually bitchy comments just rolled off your back, but something about his tone struck a raw nerve. “I’ve been busting my ass for the last fifteen years to get to where I am. What the hell have you done?”
“I’m a goddamn Marine. A scout sniper specialist with 134 confirmed kills.”
“So you’ve killed people. Congratulations.”
“Like you haven’t? Everyone you operated on come out alive?”
Another sore spot for you. Bastard. “I’m not buying your bullshit about serving. People like you never actually risk your lives. You guys get the glory from slaughtering nations while it’s the poor folks who risk their lives on the battle front.”
You were taken aback when he suddenly charged at you, cornering you against the kitchen island. Apparently you hit a nerve too if the twitch in his jaw was any indication. Gripping the island on either side of you, he held you hostage between his arms. “Don’t presume to know me.” His voice was a quiet roar, laced with vitriol and menace. The man wasn’t playing, especially when he lowered himself so he could meet your eyes directly. “You have no idea who I am. What I’m capable of.”
“I hope you’re not threatening me, Billy. I don’t respond well to those.”
“And I don’t respond well to being forced into marriage.”
“Looks like we’re at an impasse then.” You crossed your arms, straightening your back, hoping the narrowing of distance between you two would force him to retreat. But he remained in place, his pitch-black eyes still locked on you. “Maybe we should call a truce to keep the peace.”
“Not interested.” His eyes glided over your face, making it difficult for you to breathe under his scrutiny. “I’d rather destroy you.”
You knew better than to goad him. You really shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. “Violence gets you all hot, husband?”
Something almost resembling a smile curved his mouth “You’ll never know. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth.”
Your lips formed an exaggerated pout. “Aw. How am I supposed to survive without vanilla sex?”
The last thing you expected from him was a grin, an actual, legitimate smile that finally made you recognize he really was fucking hot. Yeah, yeah, everyone went crazy over his looks including your friends but his personality ruined his good looks for you. Except his smile somehow managed to overshadow all of that nastiness.
“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in a lot of trouble, golddigger.”
“It’s also got me out of trouble, sweetheart,” you fired back.
“This isn’t gonna end well for you. You know that, right? The old man is using you to embarrass me. He thinks he can bring me in line by forcing this marriage on me – but I’m not gonna let him win, no matter what.”
“Why not just play along? Sounds like all he wants is for you to stop fucking around and take some responsibility.”
An impenetrable expression masked his face. “Take responsibility? No, he wants me to be his fucking puppet and I’m never going to be that.” The hard glint returned to his eyes. “And if this means I have to take you down, I will fucking do so happily.”
There were a lot of things that didn’t make sense in this scenario. Like why a rich brat like Billy ended up serving in the military. You didn’t know if that really was true, you needed to find that out, but if it was, it didn’t gel. You would’ve expected him to follow in his family’s footsteps and go to some Ivy League school and work in the family business. But from the cursory stalking you did online, that didn’t appear to be the case. Back then you didn’t care enough to find out more, but now your curiosity was definitely piqued.
“Scared?” His snide tone brought you out of your reverie. “You should be. Shows that you’ve got some survival skills.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I always land on my feet.”
“When this whole thing blows up on you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You smirked. “Warning noted.”
He moved back, evidently disappointed by your flippant reaction. “You’re an idiot.”
“I graduated top 2% of my class in medschool but, sure, I’m an idiot.”
He sent you an irritated glance, making his way to the fridge. You watched as he took out some leftover food from the fridge and started warming it up. “Booksmart isn’t everything.”
“You’re gonna wax poetic about street smarts now?” You snickered. “Spare me.”
“Just, please, shut the fuck up while I eat. Your voice is giving me a headache.”
You watched him as he ate some pasta, noting how careful he was not to leave a mess. Small, dignified bites, carefully wiping off residue sauce from the surface, and actually washing the dishes after he was done instead of leaving them in the sink for the maid to clean up.
A yawn escaped you and you realized how tired you were. The dinner had wiped your energy, and while the argument with Billy had reenergized you for a while, your exhaustion had returned. As an introvert, there was only so much you could take being around people.
“Does Alistair know your brother’s got a record for pimping?”
You stopped in your tracks. Fuck. A part of you had hoped Billy would be too lazy to have someone look into your family but obviously you’d underestimated him. You turned around to face him, careful to keep your blank mask on. Your brother had made some stupid, heinous mistakes as a teenager that you still hadn’t come to terms with, but you sure as hell weren’t going to let some rich prick lord it over you.
“Of course. One of the reasons why he chose me for this shindig. That man really wanted to stick it to you.” You weren’t entirely sure, but a part of you suspected that really was the case. You were meant to be a punitive consequence for Billy and so far everything about you was an embarrassment to the man. Alistair really did strike gold when he landed under your care.
Billy’s eyes were filled with cold heat as he continued his assault. “He pimp you out too?”
Your temper flared. “Why? You interested?”
“Not my type. I like ‘em with less meat and no sass.”
You rolled your eyes. “Is this where I’m supposed to start crying because some rich brat called me fat?”
“You know,” he mused, “this rich brat can sneak into your room at any time and kill you without a second thought.”
“And this fat bitch could slip some poison into you that fucks up your entire body and kills you in the most painful way possible.”
There was wry amusement in his voice, like he was actually enjoying this. Something you didn’t expect. “So you’ve put some thought into this.”
“I keep a running list of the best poisons in my head.”
“So not just a golddigging whore then. Potential killer too.”
“I’m a woman of many layers.”
“Clearly.”
For the first time you saw his gaze linger down your body, not in disgust or disdain, but with actual interest, like he was seeing you in a whole new light. And all because you’d confessed to thoughts of murdering him. What a fucking psycho.
Done with his bullshit for the night, you turned your back and exited the kitchen, all the while feeling his eyes boring into you.
To be continued...
A/N - Thank you for the lovely response to the first chapter. I know some people asked to be added to a taglist but Tumblr really hates my posts when I add pictures or tags in the body. If you’d like to follow this fic, I recommend you follow the tag “Grudgingly Yours”.
Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. Thank you!
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Interrupting a white veil occasion | Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Summary: Peter's childhood crush is going to get married to someone else...so he has to speak before it's too late
Word count: 1k
Request: Please do speak now x peter parker <3
—
When Peter heard about the wedding — your wedding —, he swung his way to the top of the highest building in New York and screamed his emotions out. It felt good, but only for a few seconds. The wedding was still happening.
He couldn’t believe his friend who he had been in love with since childhood was marrying this other guy. Peter didn’t really know him, but he hated him. He hated every guy who dated you, which had caused some friction on your friendship over the years.
Like that time Peter purposely ruined your date with the swim team captain. He made up an emergency about someone trying to break into the Avengers tower, but the only person who did a bad thing that night was Peter by lying to you.
‘’He’s a player, he’s gonna break your heart.’’
That night, you made Peter promise to stop sticking his nose in your dating-life.
Swim team captain ended up breaking your heart as Peter had predicted, but Peter let you cry on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around you to stop himself from swinging to that jerk’s house and breaking his perfect jawline.
During the years that followed, there were so many times Peter wanted to confess his feelings to you, but everytime he would chicken out by fear of ruining your friendship. He’d rather love you in secret than lose you in his life.
‘’She’s getting married tomorrow,’’ Ned recalled as they were sitting in their shared apartment, watching the new Star Wars.
‘’Shut up.’’ Peter released a heavy breath. ‘’I'm trying not to think about it.’’
He didn’t say it to hurt Peter and push the knife deeper into his heart. Ned just wanted to remind him that it was happening. That the girl he loved was going to marry someone else tomorrow and he didn’t have much time left before it was too late.
‘’Maybe you should think about it. If you really love her, I think you should tell her….before she says ‘I do’.’’
Twelve hours later, Peter was putting on a suit and running to the place the wedding was held. He didn’t plan to go, but after getting a call from Tony Stark begging him to take his last chance and talk to you, Peter had no other choice but to come.
He didn't want to be a wedding-crasher, but as Tony and Ned had said, this was his last chance to get his girl.
‘’Dad, where have you been?’’ you said as your father opened the door of the room you were hiding in. You had been calling for your father for twenty minutes and no one had been able to find him, not even Pepper.
‘’I was…getting a drink. You know me!’’ Tony flashed you a smile, holding his glass of scotch.
You narrowed your eyes at him. ‘’I think you should slow down on the scotch, Dad. It’s not even 2pm.’’
He waved her off, taking another sip of his drink. ‘’It’s my first drink. It helps with the nerves.’’
You laughed softly. ‘’I’m the one getting married, I should be the one needing a drink for my nerves.’’
‘’I’m nervous about something else….’’ Tony said lowly. ‘’Please don’t be angry with me.’’ He stepped over as your face twisted in confusion, allowing Peter to step in. He was wearing a suit, but the jacket was missing and the shirt underneath had visibly not been ironed. ‘’I’ll just…leave the two of you alone,’’ your father said, then closed the door.
Peter was the last person you expected to see walking through those doors. He had responded ‘will not be attending’ on his invitation, which stung when you opened it.
‘’What are you doing here?’’
‘’The last thing I wanted today was show up to your wedding, but Mr. Stark called and—’’ Peter interrupted himself, needing to get straight to the point now or else he’s chicken out for the very last time. ‘’Don’t marry him.’’
‘’Peter…’’
‘’Don’t say ‘yes’. Don’t marry him,’’ he repeated, stepping closer with pleading eyes. ‘’I am not the kind of guy who rudely barges in on a white veil occasion, but this guy that’s waiting for you at the altar is not the right one for you, Y/N. Even your father thinks so!’’
You rolled your eyes. ‘’My father thinks no one will ever be good enough for me.’’
‘’Up until twenty-three minutes ago, I was not planning on showing up. I was moping in my bed and cursing myself for not speaking up when I had time, but your father called me…and here I am. I love you, Y/N Stark. I’ve loved you since we met at the aquarium under the huge tunnel.’’
It was over ten years ago, but Peter remembered that day as if it was yesterday.
‘’You were there with your nanny and I was on a field trip with my science class. My feet got tangled and I tripped and you helped me up. We didn’t know each other, but when I took your hand and looked into your eyes, I thought you were the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.’’
A smile curled on your glossed lips as a light flush covered your cheeks. Thankfully, it was covered by makeup. ‘’You had glasses back then. And a missing front tooth.’’
Peter scrunched his nose. ‘’Yeah, it was a terrible look.’’
You laughed at the memories. His missing tooth was actually adorable.
‘’I think you looked cute.’’
It was Peter’s turn to flush.
If your groom-to-be were to hear or see you, he would throw a fit. The woman he was about to marry was verbally cheating with another men.
Peter stepped in with shaky hands, your eyes on him. ‘’Please, don't marry him.’’
He wasn't asking you to marry him instead. That would be crazy and way too rushed.
All Peter was asking was to call off the wedding.
Your eyes filled with tears and you crumbled in the seat by the large mirror, at loss with your emotions. ‘’There’s hundreds of people out there waiting for me, Pete. I-I can’t not—’’
‘’I know,’’ Peter said, crouching before you, ‘’but these people also want you to be happy and you're not gonna be happy with this guy.’’
—
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#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker imagine#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#spiderman imagine#tom!peter parker x reader#tom!peter parker
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something new & something blue
do you ever have a consistent daydream? like every time you start to daydream it’s the same one? well this is mine so i obviously had to write it. enjoy!
warnings: cursing, arguing & implications of sex (+ not my best ending lol)
“baby, try this.” carmen holds a fork up to your lips and watches you intently as you bite the fresh hot food that it sits on. your eyes widen as the flavors combine on your tongue.
“fuck, that’s good. is that for the new menu?” you ask while covering your full mouth. carmen smiles at your positive review and runs his hands through his curls.
"no, actually. it's for the wedding."
“what do you mean? i thought you called the caterers this morning.” carmen nods at your words, seeing you lean against the kitchen counter and cross your arms in his peripheral vision. fuck, here we go,he thinks.
“yeah, i did but i changed my mind.” your fiancée made sure not to make eye contact with you as he told you this, sensing that you were starting to grow angry with him.
“let me get this straight,” you start, shifting your weight to your left leg. “you changed your mind on our wedding plans?” hearing the tone of your voice change to annoyance made his ears ring with slight regret, yet he persisted with his alibi.
“it’s not a big deal, alright? it’s cheaper, it’s easier, plus you know i can cook better than any of those fucks uptown!” this made you roll your eyes as it was obvious that carmen’s ego was wrapped into this decision. “just let me handle the menu,” he added. you looked at him in complete disbelief.
“no, you’re not handling shit! i’m not letting you cook for our wedding. end of story.” you walk away but carmen isn’t letting you get the last word. his footsteps echo behind your own as you find your way to the bedroom.
“just think about it-“
“i did, and i hate it. call the caterers.”
“no!”
“carmy, we need to feed 167 people!”
“the guys at the restaurant can help! and i’ve fed more people back in new york in just an hour-“
“yeah, but not on your wedding day!” you yell, walking away for a second time to the opposite side of the bedroom. you sigh loudly, plopping down the bed with a slouch. carmen’s eyes soften at the sight of your exhaustion.
“i know you love cooking. i get it, it’s your whole...thing. it’s just that we should be spending time together on the week of our wedding, not slaving away in a kitchen for all those fucking people.” as you vented at the plain white wall of the bedroom you both shared, carmen couldn’t have felt more stupid in that very moment. soon, you felt his weight on the bed next to you.
“and you’re right,” you added. “you can cook better than those fucks uptown, but i could eat cold pizza for all i fucking care. i just wanna marry you.” finally, you look at him, your eyes brimming slightly with tears.
you never thought planning a wedding was easy but no one ever told you it was this hard. while in the middle of transitioning “the beef” into “the bear,” carmen found time to propose to you, but life wasn’t getting any easier and the wedding date was quickly approaching. as you and your husband-to-be worked on last minute wedding details, anxiety seemed to creep up on you day by day. the slightest inconveniences felt like the end of the world.
eyes not leaving yours, carmen's hand cups your cheek and you lean into it, feeling instant comfort in his warm skin against your own. “i’m an idiot,” he whispers. first he pecks your nose, then your forehead, and cheek.
"i just want everything to be perfect."
"me too," you agree as you press your forehead onto his. carmen couldn't help it. cooking is his love language and the perfectionism and need for control that riddled his personality made him feel like cooking at his own wedding as the best idea for everyone. he felt a sharp pang in his chest at the fact that he didn’t even think about the implications of this idea.
finally, you lean into his lips, moaning at the relief that overwhelmed your body at the sensation. it wasn't long before you were both kissing each other hungrily, you straddling his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist.
"so you're gonna....you're gonna call them back?" you manage to say as you are out breath from making out. carmen began to attack your neck with furious kisses and bites.
"i'll do whatever you want, angel," he mumbles in your neck, groaning at how you began to roll your hips over top of him. you giggled at his desperate tone, peeling him off your neck and this time, taking his face into your palms.
"i'm so sorry. seriously, it was selfish of me."
"it's okay, bear. you're forgiven" carmen nearly melts at the sound of his nickname coming from your lips.
"so, now what?" he asks, his hands gliding from your waist, up your back, and down again. you smirk as you began to feel what he was trying getting at.
"what do you have in mind?" you tease, grinding your hips against him a bit harder. carmen hisses as the tent in his pants grows, pulling at your waistband.
"i need you," he whines.
"and i need you..." you trail off, running your hands up and down his chest, driving carmen even more crazy. "...to call the caterers." with that, you quickly hop off his lap, biting your lip as you hear carmen curse and chase you down the hallway.
#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen berzatto angst#jeremy allen white#jeremy allen white x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto#the bear
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