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smusherina · 18 days

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yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you like a linebacker.

You collided and flew into the snow. Better than the concrete of the footpath but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

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Chapter 8: My Favorite Cowboy

Summary: After finding out things aren't going as planned with Javi's project on the ranch, you come over to help. You spend the day meeting Javi's dad, learning about the Peña ranch, and Javi surprising you with a night that you won't ever forget.

Word Count: 12.2K (I'm not sorry about it!!!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but it's the most romantic smut I've ever written UGH), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/loss of a parent, Chucho Peña not letting his son have a moment of peace, Javi being a hot handsome cowboy, FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF Javi is a lovesick FOOL for you

A/N: Just when I thought I couldn't cram anymore in to this chapter, here we are. I wasn't planning on it ending the way it did but I literally just couldn't help myself because these two are so obsessed with each other that I'm not even mad about it. That's all I will say!!! As always, thank you so much for everyone who reads/commments/reblogs/is invested in this story, you all mean so much to me and appreciate all your kind words!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

As you hung up the phone with Javi, the reality of your conversation hit you like a ton of bricks. Not only had you just volunteered yourself to go over to Javi’s ranch for the first time, you had also signed up to meet his dad, bring them food, and help with their project? Today was turning out to be a much bigger day than anticipated. Of course you had wanted to see the Peña ranch and meet Javi’s father. Those were two things you knew were both incredibly important to him. That’s why it made you so nervous. You liked Javi. You more than liked him. You wanted more than anything to make a good impression when you met his family, and now that impression depended on a sandwich and your ability to build a fence.

Thankful you went to the grocery store yesterday, you stared at your fridge before collecting some lunch meat, cheese, and toppings. Unsure of what sandwiches the Peña men would want, you packed a cooler full of 10 different types, each labeled and wrapped in tinfoil, hoping there would be enough variety that they could find at least one they liked. You also threw in the rest of your chocolate chip cookies from last night, along with a bag of potato chips, a few cans of Coke and some bottles of beer. Staring at the cooler, you began to panic, fearing Javi’s dad was going to think you were a crazy person for showing up with so much food, but the thought of him thinking that you didn’t show up with enough was even more terrifying. Realizing that you had spent way longer than expected trying to perfect lunch, you quickly rushed to your room to try and pick out something to wear. Shuffling through your closet, you sighed to yourself, absolutely unsure of what to pick out. What the hell says I’ve missed my hot, sexy boyfriend, I’m excited to meet your dad for the first time, and I’m here to help you build a fence? Nothing. The answer is nothing. Knowing you were tight on time, you just had to go with the first outfit you pulled- denim shorts and a striped short sleeved t-shirt, throwing your hair half up in a clip, hoping to at least look semi-cute before you were a sweaty mess from the hot, Texan heat. Throwing on a little bit of makeup and a healthy dose of deodorant, you grabbed your purse, cooler, and Javi’s directions before heading out the door.

You couldn’t have been more grateful that your AC was deciding to cooperate in your car today, 1- Because your nerves already had you sweating enough, and 2- the fear of losing Javi’s directions out the open window of your car would have sent you over the edge. You drove the first half of your journey in silence, your free leg bouncing rapidly as you triple checked each turn on the directions. You tried to tell yourself there was nothing to worry about. You were a likable person, right? You pleaded with your brain to cut it out with the “what-if” scenarios, but you couldn’t help yourself.

What if his dad is annoyed you’re coming over? What if he’s mad about how much time Javi has been spending with you? What if he thinks that your sandwiches are the worst that he’s ever had in his life? What if he just doesn’t like you? Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

Your knuckles clenched the steering wheel, as you tried to think of something to snap you out of your stress. Pulling down your overhead visor, you plucked through the CD’s you had stashed up there, grabbing your favorite hype music you and your brothers played before every hockey game. Skipping through the first few tracks, you cranked up the volume as a loud “OI, OI, OI” blasted through the speakers. You weren’t really sure that T.N.T. by AC/DC was an appropriate song to settle your nerves before meeting your boyfriend’s dad for the first time, but by the end of the song, you felt a little more relieved. With only a few more turns left in your trip, you lowered your music and took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself as you found yourself on your last step of directions, making your way down a long, dirt road. Along both sides, the road was lined with bright green fields of farmland, the long grass gently swaying from the breeze. You passed a few ranches spread few and far between each other, turning your head as you drove by to make sure none of them were your destination. As you approached the 5th house on the right, according to Javi’s directions, you breathed a sigh of relief as you turned into the driveway, greeted by a weathered sign reading “Peña Ranch.”

The nervous feeling in your gut began to build again, palms sweaty as you pushed against the steering wheel, parking behind Javi’s truck like he had asked on the phone. As you turned off the ignition, you sat in your car for a few moments, working up your courage before exiting, grabbing your cooler and heading down the remainder of the gravel driveway to the front door. Looking around, you were amazed by the beautiful acres of farmland that surrounded the quaint ranch in front of you. Bushes of beautiful flowers lined the front of the house, colorful roses and hydrangeas creeping just below the big windows glistening in the sunshine. As you stepped on to the porch, you noticed two rocking chairs set side by side, slowly moving back and forth from the wind. You took one last deep breath as your free hand tightened to a fist, getting ready to tap on the front door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Nothing.

Knock, knock, knock. This time a little louder, more force behind your rapping knuckles.

Still silent.

“Hello?” you raised your voice slightly.

No response.

You stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. You weren’t just going to stand there like an idiot until someone came to answer, and you weren’t going to wander the property with a cooler full of sandwiches looking for Javi and his dad. You figured your next best bet was to try the door, hoping that maybe someone was inside and just hadn’t heard you. Hesitantly twisting the doorknob, you quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door behind you.

Peeking through the doorway, you were greeted by the warm interior of the Peña home. The walls were painted in a soft, creamy beige, covered by pictures and portraits of who you assumed to be friends and family. The first picture in the entryway was of a beautiful woman who looked like she was laughing and dancing. She had long, dark curls and a vibrant smile, her laugh lines stretched across her cheeks. It couldn’t have been anyone besides Javi’s mother, their faces were practically identical. As you stepped further into the house through the living room, you found a picture of a baby in nothing but giant cowboy boots, hat, and diaper. You giggled to yourself, knowing that it had to be a little baby Javi, drowning in whoever had put him in full cowboy attire.

“He was a cute baby, wasn’t he?”

The voice behind you had scared you so badly, you practically jumped through the roof.

“Oh, mija, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Chucho chuckled as you caught your breath.

“Mr. Peña, I’m so sorry, I tried to knock and no one answered and I didn’t want to wander around and go anywhere I shouldn’t and I-” You fumbled over your words, flustered and embarrassed that the first time Javi’s dad ever saw you was staring at a picture of your boyfriend in a diaper.

“Mija, sweetheart, please, call me Chucho. Señor Peña es mí papa. (Mr. Peña is my father.). You don’t need to apologize, that’s why the pictures are there, to be enjoyed. That one has always been one of my favorites.” He pointed back to Javi’s baby picture, you both laughing to yourselves.

“He was a very cute baby.” You set down your things, outstretching your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chucho, I’m-“

Before you could finish, Chucho had already wrapped you in his arms, embracing you in a tight hug. He held you there for a few seconds, smiles both stretching across your faces. “I know who you are, mija. I am so glad to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you.” He leaned back from your hug, still holding the sides of your arms as his eyes glistened. “It has been so long since I have seen my Javier so happy. He absolutely lov-”

“Pops! Give her some space, okay?” Javi’s familiar voice carried down the hallway behind you, cutting off the rest of his father’s sentence you were now very curious to hear the rest of. It didn’t take you long to become distracted by your thought, as Javi’s broad body strolled down the hallway, his gray t-shirt shirt clinging to his biceps, his sweat making his dark curls stick to his forehead. Even when he was a sweaty mess, he still looked delicious.

“Relájate, hijo. Quería saludarme a mí futura nuera.” (Relax son. I just wanted to say hello to my future daughter in law.) Chucho’s smirk couldn’t have been any bigger, and Javi’s cheeks couldn’t have been any redder.

“Pops, please stop.” Javi grumbled, obviously embarrassed.

“What’d you say? Sorry, I’ve been trying to work on my Spanish since moving here.” You tried to politely interject, very curious as to what was making Javi so flustered.

“Nothing, mija. Javier can tell you another time.” Chucho grinned, winking at his son as he rolled his eyes before burying his head in his hand.

“Alright.” You smiled at Javi, his face still flushed. “Well, I have lots of food if you’re hungry! I brought sandwiches, if that’s okay.” You held up your cooler, gesturing to its contents.

“Okay? More than okay, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m sure it is better than any lunch this old man could have thrown together. Javi, grab the cooler and some drinks, let’s head outside.”

“Mr. Peñ-“ You paused, correcting yourself as Chucho grinned at you. “Chucho. Really, I don’t mind carrying it, it’s not that heavy. And there’s some Coke and beer in there already if you want some!”

“Ella trajo cerveza? Ella te quiere mucho, Javier. La amo, tambien.” (And she brought beer? She really does love you, Javier. I love her too.)

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered under his breath. “Dad, please.” His voice a mix of firm and desperate.

“Fine, fine.” He replied, swatting his hand at his son. “Gracias, mija. That was very kind of you.”

“Of course.” You smiled as the three of you began walking through the kitchen and out to the back deck where a small picnic table sat in the shade of the overhang of the roof. The view from the back deck was breathtaking- miles of green pasture stretched across land, separated by a few lines of fencing housing sheep and cows to the right, and some horses to the left. “It’s absolutely beautiful here. Javi never told me how amazing it is.” You gave him a playful nudge as you sat down next to him, putting the cooler on the table and staring out in front of you.

“Yeah, I don’t know, different when you see it every day, I guess.” Javi shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are you kidding? After living in a city for so long, I don’t think I’d ever get over waking up to this every morning. Beats ugly gray buildings and taxis any day of the week.” You turned around to see Javi quickly dart his eyes away, trying to play off the fact he hadn’t just been gawking at you for the past few seconds.

“Thank you. I do love it here. Javier tells me you're from Chicago. Laredo must have been a big change for you, mija.”

“I guess. I lived in the suburbs growing up so I wasn’t in the city my whole life. I actually had been to Laredo before I moved here, which is part of the reason why I picked it. My best friend came here in high school for her dad’s job and I would visit every summer. I always loved how peaceful it was. Don’t get me wrong, I love Chicago, but I absolutely love it here too.” You softly smirked at Javi, as his hand reached down to grasp your leg, rubbing his thumb along your knee under the table. “Please, have something to eat! I made a lot because I didn’t know what sandwiches you like, so hopefully there’s something in there you want.”

Javi stood up to open the cooler and take out its contents, laughing and shaking his head as he saw what was inside. “Jesus Hermosa, were you planning on feeding an army today?” He started removing sandwich after sandwich, along with the rest of the cookies and chips.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know what people liked and-” You muttered, embarrassed by your excessive overpacking.

“She is just like your mamá, Javier. Nunca puede tener demasiada comida. You can never have too much food, she would always say. Thank you, mija. It all looks wonderful.”

You let out a small smile, relieved by his comment. “It’s the least I can do. I heard your project isn’t exactly going as planned so I wanted to do something small to help out.”

“It’s been a shit show. Better now that you’re here.” Javi smirked. “Can you pass me the turkey sandwich? And a cookie? Wait, did you make these?” Pointing over to the ziploc bag the cookies were stored in.

“Yeah, I made them yesterday. Had a feeling they were better here than sitting uneaten at my apartment.” You passed both items of food off to him.

No surprise to you, Javi went straight for the cookie, taking a giant bite, not bothering to finish chewing before he spoke. “These are so fucking good.”

“Javier, language! And chew with your mouth closed. You may have been raised on a ranch, but you weren’t born in a barn.” Chuchco scolded as you giggled.

“Sorry.” He grumbled sheepishly. “They’re delicious, Osita. So is the sandwich.” he spoke before taking another mouthful.

“Thanks, I had a feeling you’d like ‘em. So what can I help with after lunch is done?

“Osita, I already told you, you don’t need to help with anything.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a stern look. “You’re trying to tell me there’s not a single thing that I can help with? Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Well, I mean…” Chucho perked up, mid-bite on a handful of chips.

“Dad. Seriously?”

“What? She’s offering!”

“I am, thank you, Chucho. See, listen to your dad, Javi.” You shrugged and raised an eyebrow at him defiantly.

“Yes, Javier, listen to your father.” Chucho joined you in crossing his arms at his son, you and Chucho both laughing as Javi sighed. “Although I will agree with Javier on this one, mija. I have no doubt you are strong and willing to help, but I can’t ask you to help build this fence. Even with 6 grown men, this fence would have been hard to build. Although…”

“Pops, c’mon.”

“I wasn’t going to ask her to help with the fence, Javier.” He swatted his hand at his son in annoyance. Chucho turned back to look at you. “Mija, have you gardened before?” This got Javi’s attention. He sat up a little straighter and leaned in to what his dad had to say.

“Yes, actually! My mom had a garden of all kinds of things at our house when I was a kid. My brothers never wanted to take care of it because it was too girly, but I loved it.”

Chucho let a soft smile creep across his face. “Perfect. Mija, the flowers around the house could use a little love. Watering, weeding, trimming down. I know it does not seem like a big job but it has been on my to-do list and I just haven’t gotten to it yet. Too much longer and it will be a jungle and too much for my old knees to handle on my own. Would you mind helping with that?”

“Of course, I would love to!” You grinned, semi-relieved you weren’t going to have to embarrass yourself in front of Javi trying to pick up a post just to prove a point.

“Bueno! These sandwiches were delicious, mija. Thank you, again. Let me show you where the tools are and then we will all be back to work.”

You and Javi followed Chucho hand in hand to the small tool shed on the outside of the barn. He grabbed a bucket, placing a few items inside before handing it off to Javi, even though you insisted you could carry it. Chucho showed you his preferred method of clipping and trimming around the flowers, along with his favorite weeding shovel and where the hose was to water when you were done. The whole time you and Chucho were talking, Javi watched in silence, his heart bursting at the sight of you two milling around the garden. As Chucho finished with his directions, you turned back around to see Javi, wiping away what you assumed was just sweat from under his eyes.

“I think I got it all! Thanks, Chucho!”

“Of course, honey. We are out in the far left pasture, so if you need anything, you can call Javi’s phone from the future on our perfectly good phone in the house.”

“You have it out for cell phones, too? Must be a dad thing, mine is the same way. I’ll call if I need anything.” Chucho nodded as he began making his way back to the pasture, Javi lingering behind for a few more moments. “I never did get to properly say hello to you.” You smirked, pulling your fingers beneath the belt loops on Javi’s jeans, bringing him closer to you as you both leaned in for a long, sweet kiss.

“I think this hello works just fine.” Javi chuckled, his large hand cupping your face, calloused thumb rubbing back and forth against your cheek. “Thank you, Osita. This means so much to me. Meeting my dad, bringing food, offering to help. I just- Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m so glad I got to finally meet your dad. He’s hilarious. I think he was just worried that I was gonna be too strong helping with the fence and he didn’t want to embarrass you like that.”

“Pendejo.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

I do. It was soft and tender and sweet and somehow screamed in your ear at the same time. It made your heart race and your cheeks flushed as he pulled the hand already resting on your jaw closer to his, the kiss between you so gentle, yet powerful all at once. It felt like your lips were barely touching, yet somehow it still felt like they were crashing together, like a wave on the beach in a stormy sea. You pulled away from each other, slow and breathless, eyes locking and mouths still hanging half open. A kiss that left you both dumbfounded and speechless.

“I uh, I should um, probably go help my dad.”

“Yeah, I um, yeah, I should probably get to work on these flowers.”

Both of your voices barely carried above a whisper. You slowly backed away from each other, stupid smiles spread across your cheeks as you bit down on your bottom lip to try and keep your grin from growing any wider.

“If you need anything just-“ He gestured down to his pocket where was carrying his phone.

“Just call your cell phone, I know.”

As Javi’s body turned to walk towards his dad, his eyes stayed glued on you. So much so, that neither of you noticed the garden bucket he was about to trip over before it was too late. With one wrong step, Javi lost his footing and took several tumbling steps before planting his hands on the ground and pushing himself back up to stand. You were trying your hardest not to burst out into laughter, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Stupid fucking bucket…” Javi mumbled to himself.

“Watch out for those buckets, they’ll getcha.” You yelled mockingly between your hysterical laughter.

“I didn’t see it.”

“Then watch where you’re going next time!”

“It isn’t that funny.”

“It is a little funny.” You still chuckled to yourself.

Out of witty responses, Javi only shook his head at you before disappearing behind the house. Around the corner, he found his father, also laughing in hysterics, barely getting his words out over his snorts.

“Got distracted by something while you were walking?”

“Fuck. Did you see that too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hijo.”

“Goddamnit.” Javi put one hand on his hip and the other palming his face.

“Ah, to be young and blinded by love again.” Chucho shook his head as he began walking out towards the field.

“Dad, please, for the love of-“ Javi pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose as Chucho cut off the rest of his sentence.

“I know, I know, I will leave it alone… for now.” He winked at Javi as the two men made their way back out into the field, Javi peeking around the house to take one last look at you before he left.

If there was one thing that you had learned since moving to Texas, it was that it got hot. Fast. You truly didn’t mind the heat- it beat the terrible midwest winters you had dealt with every year since childhood. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like you slowly melting away only after a few hours out in the blazing sun. Beads of sweat pooled on your forehead as you clipped all of your hair up and out of your face, hating the feeling of it wet and sticky against your neck. Your shirt was practically drenched from the sun hitting your back for so long. You were thankful that you were getting closer to being finished, only leaving watering the flowers as your last step. If this was your own garden, you would have been weeding and trimming at a lightning fast pace, but something about the way Chucho had so tenderly clipped each branch and gently tugged each weed made you slow down and take your time with every step. Given the way you had watched Javi curiously perk up as his dad had offered you the task made you feel like this wasn’t a job that he would have offered to just anyone. The last thing you wanted to do was mess it up. As you made your way around the edge of the house, leaving only the last few bushes, you noticed a large, flat stone at the base of one of the hydrangea plants. You squatted down next to it, using your hand to dust off the dirt covering the top, plucking some weeds growing around the edges. Under the dirt, your fingers began to trace over indents in the rock that felt like letters. With a few more swipes of your hand, you were able to make out the words under the soil.

Lucia’s Garden

You sat there for a few moments, rubbing your fingers gently over the indents in the stone, lost in thought as you imagined the vibrant image of Javi’s mother amongst the equally bright and beautiful flower garden.

“Hey, Osita.” Even though the voice was soft and familiar, you had definitely not heard Javi creep up behind you, and when his strong and calloused hands rested on top of your shoulders, you just about jumped out of your skin.

“Ah! Jesus, what is it with the Peña men and absolutely scaring the shit out of me today?” You jumped up, catching your breath as Javi rested his hands on the outside of your arms as you turned towards him. He laughed softly to himself as you regained your composure. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while. Not that I’m mad about it, but I find it very unlikely you and your dad are already done with the fence. Unless you both have some crazy superpowers, besides sneaking up on people, that I don’t know about.”

He chuckled, as he placed his hand under your chin, tilting it up towards him as he gently wiped a smudge of dirt off of your cheek. “No, not done yet. But, I did just get a call that the guys who were supposed to come help. They’re back on the road and should be here soon, and they were able to bring a few extra people with them with building. So, I was able to convince Pops that they had enough help with the fence, that you could come help me do the rest of the chores around the ranch for the night, if you want.”

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna let me help with anything.” You crossed your arms and smirked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean if you don’t wanna see the animals,” he said, putting a knowing emphasis on the word, “then that’s fine I guess-”

“Wait. That’s what this is?! We get to go see the animals?! Why didn’t you say that first, dummy, let’s go!” You shrieked, practically dragging Javi away.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so excited to feed cows.”

“AND we get to feed them?! This is really turning out to be way better than anything I had planned.”

“You’re ridiculous, Osita.” He laughed as he smiled at you, finding it both hilarious and absolutely adorable at how excited you were. Here you were, covered in dirt and sweat, practically begging him to walk through a smelly barn to feed even smellier animals, all because it meant you got to be with him. Him. He truly needed someone to pinch him, because he was convinced he had to be dreaming. Well, if he was, he guessed he could let that dream keep going just a little longer.

“I don’t understand how you don’t think this is the coolest thing. What do we have to do first?” You looked up at him, eyes glistening with excitement.

“We'll stop at the barn and get some hay and feed, then take the truck out to them.”

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!”

You both hopped into Javi’s truck and headed towards the barn. While it was only less than a minute away, Javi wasted no time gripping his hand over your bare thigh, stroking his thumb back and forth over your skin as he drove.

“Do you wanna wait in here while I get stuff?” He asked gently as he put the truck in park pulling up to the barn, still rubbing his hand against your knee.

“That is the stupidest question you have asked me all day. If I’m here to help, I want the full Peña Ranch experience.” You quickly unbuckled yourself as you opened the passenger door, sliding out. Javi shook his head and laughed to himself as he followed behind you.

“You really want the full experience?” He stood facing you, arms crossed over his chest with a smug look on his face.

“Yes! I told you, I’m here to help. Don’t take it easy on me, Peña.” You mirrored his stance, leaning into your hip and shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay.” He chuckled as he opened the barn door and then stood back to lean against the back of the truck. “We need four bales of hay and 2 buckets of feed. All you, Osita.” He motioned to the barn wall, stacked high with bales of hay from end to end.

“Easy.” You reached your hands above your head to stretch before you walked over to the hay, Javi standing and watching. “How heavy can they be? It’s just hay!” You leaned over the closest bale, reaching down to the two strings binding it together to pick it up. Oh shit. This was WAY heavier than you thought, but there was no turning back now. Taking a deep breath, you grimaced your face as you tried to lift the bale as high off the ground as you could, shuffling awkwardly towards the truck. You let out a much louder than intended grunt as you heaved the bale of hay up into the truck bed, letting out a few deep breaths and putting your hands on your hips after you finished, trying as hard as you could to play off the fact that the task was much more difficult than expected. “See?” Your words heavy between each pant. “Easy.’

“Do you want to go get the buckets of feed while I finish the hay? Or was it so easy that you wanna do the rest of them?” Javi smirked.

“I mean, I guess if I’m getting the full experience, I should probably learn how to get the feed too. ” You replied, trying to hide the fact you were still trying to catch your breath.

“Okay, Osita, whatever you say.” He winked, smirk still spread across his face. “There’s some barrels back there labeled with feed. You can put 3 scoops in the red bucket and 3 in the blue. Should be easy.” He leaned down to give you a quick kiss before making his way over to the hay bales.

“Pendejo…” You muttered to yourself.

“You love it.” He teased, easily lifting a bale and tossing it into the truck.

Thankfully, the feed was nowhere near as heavy as the hay, and you were able to carry both buckets over to the truck where Javi was waiting for you. “You want me to put those in the truck for you, or are they easy too?” Javi mocked, clearly getting enjoyment out of your stubbornness.

“Oh shut up, I just wasn’t expecting the hay to be that heavy.” Your grumbles and defeat quickly turning into giggles and smiles as Javi lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the truck bed, his arms placed outside your hips as he leaned in to pepper you with ticklish kisses across your neck and face. “It would be so much harder to be mad at you if you weren’t the hottest cowboy I’ve ever seen. Didn’t know I had a thing for them until you showed up all hot and sweaty and handsome and I’ve been trying so hard to not get distracted, especially considering we’re hanging out with your dad, but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

“You don’t think it’s been any easier for me watching you just walk around in those jean shorts all day? Jesus, Osita, you’re fucking killing me.” He planted another hot, wet kiss on your neck as his hands shifted, running up and down your thighs. You could feel heat flushing over your cheeks as you felt arousal build in your belly.

“Javi, we cannot do this here, we’re at your dad’s house. I want him to like me, I don’t need him to catch us screwing around here.” Your breaths slowly turned into moans, making your argument less and less convincing to Javi as he had his fingertips gripping into your hips, pulling you close to him as his kisses crept up your neck and along your jaw.

“He already loves you, hermosa. Don’t worry, I have it figured out. You’ll see.” He pulled his lips off you, suddenly, winking before walking away towards the driver’s side door, leaving you sitting on the truck bed, worked up and desperate.

“Wait, woah, what? What do you mean you have it figured out? You can’t just do that and walk away!” You scrambled off the truck bed, hopping into the truck with him.

“C’mon, Osita. We have cows to feed, remember?” With the way this man kissed you, you were lucky if you could remember your name after he was done.

Feeding cows and sexual tension were two things that you would have never thought would have gone hand in hand, but here you were, barely holding it together as you looked over at Javi. His aviators perched on his strong nose, gray shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, the width of his hands around your leg? You sure hope whatever mystery he had planned was coming soon because your self restraint was starting to run thin. That was, until you looked out the truck.

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THERE WERE BABY COWS?” You practically jumped out of the passenger door as the truck pulled to a stop, speeding up to the fence where four calves were waiting for you. “Can I pet them? They’re so cute!” You hadn’t even bothered to help Javi haul the food out of the truck bed as you reached out to scratch the bridges of each little cow’s nose.

“I figured you’d like these guys. Hola, chiquitos. Tienes hambre? (Hi, little ones. Are you hungry?). He cooed in a sweet, soft voice that made your heart melt. “Do you wanna feed them while I take care of the others?”

“Is this gonna be another hay bale situation?” You joked sarcastically, scratching under one of the cow’s chins.

“No, this one is actually fun. Hold on.” He went back over to the truck, pulling out 4 large bottles that he must have grabbed while you were getting the rest of the feed. “They’re not old enough for grain feed yet, so they’re still bottle fed.” He passed one of the containers off to you, before grabbing his own to demonstrate. “All you have to do is hold it with both hands and let them drink out of it until it’s empty. Each calf gets one. They’re cute, but don’t let ‘em fool you, they’re still strong, and very hungry.”

“Got it.” You replied, taking the bottle in both hands, the calves beginning to moo as they caught a glimpse of their food. You held it up as the cow’s tongues shot out of their mouths before one of them latched on to the bottle. You giggled as the calf sucked out of the container, Javi smiling at your enjoyment as he grabbed a bale and made his way further down the fence to feed the rest of the herd.

“Ringo is very strong.” You grunted, gripping on to your final bottle as Javi approached you again, finished with his feeding duties. “At least he’s nicer than George, he tried to bite John and Paul when it was their turn to eat!”

“Hermosa, who are you talking about?” Javi laughed, amused at the sight of you trying to keep the calf from ripping the bottle out of your hands.

“The cows! They needed better names than 6, 14, 27 and 31, which was all their tags said. And there’s four of them, so I figured they could be the Beatles! John, Paul, Ringo and George!”

“Normally, we don’t name them, it’s too hard to keep track of, that’s why they have numbers. Also, all these calves are girls.” He still laughed to himself as he leaned down to pick up the empty bottles and put them back in the truck.

“Oh… Well, it doesn’t matter, I think their names are still cute, who cares. More fun than the numbers.” You nudged Javi playfully as you pulled the empty bottle away before throwing in the truck bed with the others. “Bye, Beatles!” You waved at the cows before hopping back into the truck.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Well at least I’m your dork.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you are. You ready to head back?”

“Let’s go cowboy.”

As you headed down the dirt path, you could see the sun slowly starting to dip beneath the clouds, painting the sky to a beautiful orange and pink. You leaned over the center console, resting your head on Javi’s shoulder, as you snaked your arm under his, gently squeezing his hand as your fingers interlocked. There was something so peaceful and perfect about the moment, how you could almost feel the threads of each of your lives slowly becoming more intertwined with each moment you spent together. You could spend a million more nights just like these just sitting by his side, driving anywhere to do anything. It didn’t matter, as long as you were with him. You were so caught up in the beautiful fantasy of the moment, that you hadn’t even heard him over your daydreaming.

“Hermosa?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” You shook your head, coming to.

“I uh, I know you’ve already spent a lot of time here today with me and my dad, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I was um, wondering if you wanted to stay for dinner? Maybe spend the night here?” He shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel as he looked at you with his sweet, puppy dog eyes.

“Really?” Your face lit up instantly, thrilled by the fact Javi wanted to spend more time with him and his dad.

“Yeah, like I said, um, don’t feel like you have to, but-”

“Javi.” You paused, gazing back at him. “I would love to.” You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as you leaned back over to rest your head against him again as you pulled back up to the house. As Javi put the truck in park and you pushed on the handle to open the door to hop out, you felt a tug against your wrist, drawing you back in. You turned back, Javi’s eyes looking you up and down, his tongue darting out between his lips before clenching his jaw. Without saying a word, you shifted back in your seat, Javi’s hands engulfing your face, as he pulled you in, meeting his lips with yours. As your mouths crashed into each other, you could feel your heart race, electricity flowing through your veins, feeling Javi pull you closer to him. There was something so desperate about it, like he was holding in something he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that he just couldn’t say.

I want you. I need you. I love you.

You hoped those were the words sealed between his kisses. You hoped he felt the plea of your kiss, too.

I want you, too. I need you, too. I love you, too.

As you both slowly pulled away, your heavy breaths mingled in the few inches left between your parted lips, Javi’s traced soft and tender circles around the line of your jaw.

“I really like you, Osita.”

“I really like you too, Javi.”

Those were the best words you could muster from the silent screams of your kiss. Those words would have to do, for now.

“Do you wanna head inside? I’m sure your dad’s probably waiting for us.” You asked, regrettably.

“I really don’t want to, but we probably should.” He huffed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, giving you one last kiss on the head before you made your way in the house.

As you entered through the front door, you could already hear Chucho in the kitchen tinkering with pots and pans and singing along to the Spanish radio station in the background. “So, do we have a guest for dinner?” Chucho spoke in between lines of the song, hearing that you and Javi had come through the front door.

“If that’s okay?” You replied, now making your way into the kitchen to see the array of food that Chucho had spread across the countertops.

“More than okay, mija. I’d hope you’d stay.” He said with a soft smile as he wiped his hands the apron he was wearing, worn and faded letters across the front reading “Besar a Cocinero” (kiss the cook).

Rubbing his hand against the small of your back (grazing dangerously close over ass) as he stood behind you, Javi looked down and smiled. “Osita, do you wanna take a shower before dinner? I can throw all your clothes in the wash too if you want?”

“What? Are you saying I smell bad?” You took a step back, crossing your arms against your chest.

“Well, no, I mean, uh-” Javi tripped over his words.

“Javi, oh my gosh, I’m just kidding.” You said, playfully swatting at him. “I know I probably smell like a troll, so a shower would be great. I didn’t bring any extra clothes, though.”

“A cute troll, at least.” Javi laughed, having to remind himself that the majority of the things that came out of your mouth were completely unserious. “You can borrow some of mine until yours are clean. Here, I’ll show you where the shower is.” He took you by the hand as he led you down the hallway, stopping at the first door on the right, leading into Javi’s bedroom. His room was neat and minimal, not much in it besides his bed, dresser, desk and a bookshelf with some scattered picture frames and a few unpacked boxes in one of the corners. You stood there for a moment, looking around at the space as Javi walked across the room to open the door where his bathroom was. “Shower’s in there, towel’s hanging up on the door, and I’ll set some clothes out for you on the bed when you’re done.”

“Thanks.” You smiled as you bit down on your lip, taking a slight step towards him. “You um, probably want my clothes I’m wearing right now for the laundry, right?”

You had been trying so hard to not completely fall apart at the sight of Javi all day. Especially with wanting to make a good impression on his dad, it took everything in you to keep yourself from crawling all over him from the minute you walked through the door. You knew there was nothing you could really do about it right now, but Javi’s not so subtle point to close and lock his bedroom door also hadn’t gone unnoticed. Slowly, you stretched your arms over your head to strip your T-shirt, dropping it on the floor as Javi’s jaw went slack, his eyes undressing you faster than you could undress yourself. You undid the button and zipper to your shorts, pushing them down your hips as they dropped around your ankles, leaving you in just your bra and underwear, and Javi just about speechless.

“Fuck me.” He whispered to himself as he stepped into you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his big hands sliding up your back as he unclipped your bra, helping it slide off your shoulders before tossing it into the pile of the rest of your clothes. You let out a silent moan as he kissed down your chest, his tongue flicking against each of your pebbled nipples as his hands worked down your hips, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs before they fell to the floor. You could feel his bulge straining against the denim of his jeans pressed against your leg as he ran his hands up and down your curves, planting hot and heavy kisses across your body. You wished so badly that he could toss you on his bed and fuck you right then and there, but you had to keep reminding yourself that his dad was only a few feet from Javi’s room before you got too carried away, a fact that Javi seemed to have forgotten given the way he was all over you.

You outstretched your neck to nip at his ear letting out a long and shaky breath before you whispered. “I think you got all the clothes you need, I’m gonna get in the shower now.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as you pulled away from his grasp, shooting him a quick wink as you giggled, closing the door to the bathroom. You left Javi standing in the middle of his room, breathless and riled up as he stood next to the pile of your clothes on the floor. He placed one hand on his hip, the other running through the dark locks of his hair before reaching down to grab your clothes as he mumbled to himself.

“God, I’m so fucked.”

You felt like a new person stepping out of the shower now that you had scrubbed yourself clean of the dirt, sweat and grime from the day. You wrapped yourself up in the fluffy navy blue towel that Javi had left for you, drying the damp ends of your hair before opening the door to step back into Javi’s bedroom. Sitting on top of the plaid comforter that covered his bed, you noticed a pile of clothes Javi had left for you with a post it note placed on top. You picked it up, laughing to yourself as you read it.

Hope these clothes are okay. Sweatshirt and sweatpants are for later, gets cold outside at night. FYI, payback’s a bitch.

See you soon, beautiful,

-J

Wondering what Javi had planned for outside, you set the gray sweatpants and maroon crewneck aside, picking up the white t-shirt with “Texas A&M Swimming” written across the front. You slipped it on over your head before shuffling on the black pair of cotton sleep shorts Javi had left for you, rolling them up a few times so they didn’t slide down your waist. You reached for the doorknob of the bedroom, opening it slightly as you heard Javi and his dad’s voices from the kitchen, listening in on their conversation.

“I know Dad, believe me. I’ll tell her, just… I can’t yet. I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“Well don’t take too long. She is a special girl, Javier. You and I both know it. Don’t you think there was a reason I let her tend to your mamá’s garden? You know very well I don’t trust just anyone with Lucia’s flowers. I barely trust you. She would always tell me how much she couldn’t wait for you to bring home a woman you loved, a daughter to have to spend time with there. Dios la bendiga (God bless her), I wish she could have met her. Your mother would have loved her. You two are perfect for each other. Ella es tú media naranja. (She is your better half, your soulmate). I know you love her, Javier. I find it very hard to believe that she doesn’t love you too.”

I want to tell her. I know you love her. She loves you too.

The words rung in your ears as your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. Your mouth hung open as heat crept up your cheeks, your mouth stretching with the widest, stupidest grin. Holy shit. Part of you wished you hadn’t heard it, only because now it was taking every ounce of you to not bust through the door, kiss his sweet face and tell him how much you loved him too. Thank God there was a part of your lovestruck brain that still had some sense of awareness left to it, as you heard the thumps of Javi’s footsteps towards the door, followed by a “I’m just gonna see if she needs anything before I get in the shower.” You scrambled back from the door, trying to do anything you could to make it look like you hadn’t just overheard the conversation in the kitchen. You pretended to fold your damp towel as Javi opened the door, leaning against the frame.

“Hey, you’re done! Shower okay? Tried to find whatever I could I thought would fit you best.”

“Yeah, great! Shower was great, clothes fit great, everything is great. Perfect.” The words spilled out of your mouth in the least casual way possible, sounding frantic and panicked as they fell from your lips.

“Osita, you okay? Are the clothes not comfortable? I can get you different ones? Or if you’re worried about spending time with just you and my dad while I’m in the shower, I-”

You cut him off, standing up on your tiptoes and balling up the shirt covering his chest in your fists as you reached up to press your lips into his, lingering for as long as you could before breaking away. “I’m sorry, everything is perfect. Seriously. You just surprised me when you came in. I’m excited to spend time with your dad and the clothes are just fine. Not sure what I’m gonna need these sweatpants and sweatshirt for but I’m excited to find out.”

He let out a small huff of relief as he ran his fingers through the wet ends of your hair before kissing the top of your head. “Like I said, I’ve got it all taken care of, you’ll see. I just have to shower real quick, and Pops said food should be done real soon. Does that work?”

“Absolutely. Have a good shower, ya stinky cowboy.” You winked as you gave his butt a quick squeeze before heading out into the kitchen.

“Ah, Mija!” Chucho’s cheerful greeting making you smile as he milled around the kitchen, whistling along to the upbeat song on the radio. “I hope you’re hungry! It seems like I am getting in the habit of making way too much food. I am glad we have an extra mouth with us tonight to help us.”

“I’m glad to be here! I’m starving. Is there anything else you need help with?” You asked, looking around at even more photos that hung in the kitchen, quickly realizing how fond Chucho was of displaying his loved ones in every inch of the house. You caught a glimpse of another photo of Javi hanging above the dining room table, this one of him in a cap and gown, holding his diploma as he stood next to his mother and father, proud looks beaming across their faces. Chucho noticed you staring, his heart warmed by the genuine interest you seemed to have of his life in photos spread across his home.

“No, honey. Already finished, just cleaning up a few things, but that can wait for later. That’s when Javier graduated from college. We were so proud of him.” He gestured, pointing over to the picture you were staring at.

“Yeah, I bet. You can tell from the picture how happy you are for him. It’s very sweet.” You smiled, seeing how much both of his parents loved and cared for Javi.

“Do you want to see more?” You turned around to face Chucho, almost giddy with excitement.

“More what? More pictures? Yes please!” You grinned.

“Perfecto. Take a seat, Mija, I’ll be right back.” He pointed over to the kitchen chair as he made his way over to the living room, rustling around and returning with 4 large stacks of photo albums. “I’m glad you asked about these now, Javier would kill me if he saw me getting all of these out for you, but they are too good not to share. Here, start with this one.” He opened up the first book with a worn, brown leather cover, flipping to the first page. It was filled with pictures of Javi’s mom, still pregnant and setting up the nursery, followed by newborn Javi, face scrunched and covered in a dark brown head of hair. “Lucia was so excited when she found out she was pregnant. We had tried for so long, and by some miracle, along came sweet Javier. Oh, did she love him.” He spoke as you continued flipping through the pages, smiling with each turn, honored to hear about Javi’s life, long before your paths crossed. “Oh, this is a good one!” He stopped you, pointing to a photo of Javi, who couldn’t have been older than 3 or 4, sitting on top of a cow with a sweet, toothy grin. “He’s always loved animals. He would cry every night, mamácita, papácita, mas vacas, por favor! (Mommy, Daddy, more cows, please!) because he loved listening to those cows moo so much.”

“That’s so adorable. It’s so nice that you have so many photos of him.” You smiled, opening up the next book on the table.

“Good to have memories of all of the moments that live in your heart.” Chucho sighed as you flipped to a photo of Javi blowing out candles on a birthday cake, sitting on his mother’s lap, as she cheered for her son.

“Jesus, Pops, are you serious?” Javi rolled his eyes as he strolled into the kitchen, setting down your extra sweatpants and shirt on the counter before running his towel through his damp curls, knowing exactly what his dad was up to.

“Javi, you were such a cute kid! What happened?” You and Chucho snickered to yourself as Javi put a hand on his hip, running his tongue across his teeth, trying his best to not give away the fact he couldn’t have been happier to see how well the two of you were getting along.

“Fine, fine. Looks like we’ve been busted, Mija. We’ll save the rest of these for another time.” He chuckled as he scooped up the photo books, bringing them back to the living room.

“You’re no fun.” You nudged Javi, as he stood next to you, now freshly showered and wearing a dark blue shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that were about to make you fall out of your chair.

“You should be thanking me. I’m saving you from all the awful, awkward photos of me from after I was a cute kid.”

“But those are the best ones! Besides, with how handsome you are, I have a very hard time believing you ever went through an awkward stage.”

“And that’s why the rest of the photo books are getting put away.” He laughed as rested his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind your chair. “Dinner ready, Pops?”

“Sí, on the counter, in the bag ready to go.” He pointed to the counter where a large brown paper sat.

“Wait,” You paused, confused by the exchange. “Why is it in a bag? I thought we were eating dinner together here?” Your brows scrunched in surprise as you looked back and forth between Javi and his dad.

“Don’t worry about me, mija. I’ve already taken up too much of your time. Besides, señor romance tiene otros planes.” (Mr. Romance has other plans).

“Oh, so what are these plans, Mr. Romance?” You giggled, you and Chucho equally enjoying the embarrassing Hell you had both put him through today.

“Jesus Christ. Alright, we’re going now, bye Pops.” He mumbled as he grabbed the extra clothes and food from the counter, you following close behind him as you made your way to the front door.

“Alright, so where are we off too, Mr. Romance?” You giggled as Javi started up the truck after throwing the food and clothes in the backseat. “I hope whatever you’re doing is because you think I don’t want to spend time with your dad.”

“Osita, that is the least of my worries. You two together are turning out to be a much bigger pain in my ass than I ever expected.” He joked as the two of you laughed, both relieved by how well you had been getting along with his dad. “No I just, I know I said it before, but I’m so glad you came today. You didn’t have to do any of this, no one… no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. Just, I don’t, I, um-”

You slipped your fingers between his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, Javi.” Had no one ever really done something this nice for him? In your mind, today couldn’t have been an easier decision. You were so glad that he was letting you into his life- to meet his dad, to see where he grew up, to learn more about his past and what shaped him into the man that had your heart. It killed you to think that something like this was something he’d never had. “So, is this what you kept telling me you had planned today? Where are we going? Are we eating there? Is it outside?”

“Jesus, you really do hate surprises, don’t you? Remind me to never throw you a surprise birthday party. Don’t worry, you’ll see. You trust me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes, what are you-”

“Osita, please.”

“Fine, fine.”

You leaned your head back over onto his shoulder, closing your eyes as you drove in a comfortable silence, bright golden sunset spilling into the windows of the truck as traveled along the worn dirt path. Between a gap in the fencing along the side of the gravel road, Javi turned, driving the truck through part of the open field before swinging it around, turning the front of the car facing the direction you came.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“What happened to you being so patient? Keep them closed, give me one minute.”

“Not even a little peek?”

“Osita…”

“Okay, okay, no peeking, I swear!” You kept your eyes shut as you heard the door close on Javi’s side of the truck, the backdoor also opening and closing after he shuffled around, grabbing what you assumed were the things from the backseat. You heard the bed of the truck slam down before Javi was back rustling around in the front of the truck, reaching over your lap into the CD’s. You could hear him quickly pick one out before sliding it into the CD player, the “Rumors” album by Fleetwood Mac now playing over the speakers.

“Good pick.” You smiled, eyes still shut tight. “You almost done yet, Mr. Romance? Or is this how I finally go? You’ve hid the axe murderer act long enough and now you’re gonna bury me out in the field, never to be seen again? I guess it is clever on your part.” You laughed to yourself, knowing what the look on Javi’s face must have been as he rolled his eyes at you, even if yours were still scrunched shut. You heard him shuffle out, opening your side of the car.

“Give me your hand, you dork.” You felt his palm under yours as your fingers wrapped around his wrist as his other hand held your hip, helping you scoot out of the truck. He guided you to take a few steps before releasing your hand. “Okay, now you can open.”

You wanted to give him some witty remark, a sarcastic jab, anything to give him a hard time about how he had made you wait for whatever this mystery surprise was, but as you opened your eyes, you were left speechless. Looking out in front of you, you saw nothing but miles of green grass, hills rolling up and down along the horizon as far as the eye could see as the sunset bursted with a ferocious orange and pink glow, peeking just above the clouds, slowly getting ready to sink into the land below. “Javi…” You paused for a moment as you took in the view. “This is beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.” With Javi standing behind you, you assumed that he too, was taking in the spectacular view. And to him, he was. It just wasn't the sunset that he was referring to.

You turned around, remembering the rustling you had heard in the backseat, wondering what Javi had been doing in the truck bed. The back of the truck was filled with blankets and pillows with Chucho’s bag of food sitting on the edge. Still speechless, you stared back at Javi awestruck by the moment. “C’mere.” He said, patting the truck bed, lifting you up and following close behind you. You both snuggled in under the blankets, Javi wrapping his arm around you as you laid into his chest, watching the sun slowly fade away behind the clouds. “Good surprise?” He leaned into you, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your arm.

“Great surprise.”

Reaching his hand across your body, he cupped the side of your face, turning it toward his as his lips gently pressed against yours. He pulled back for a moment, foreheads pressed against each other, mouths barely separated, like he was looking for the right words to say but he just couldn’t find them. “Kiss me.” You whispered. “Kiss me, Javi.”

You could feel your weight shift as Javi rolled you over, his body now hovering over yours as your mouths crashed together in a way that was deep and intense without being frantic or rushed. His tongue dipped in your mouth, your lips parted between soft, breathy moans, pressing his body deeper into yours with each kiss. “Javi…” You whined, ache building between your legs as you felt his length pressed against you from his sweatpants, already hard and heavy against your thigh. He slowly began to make his way down your body, hot, wet kisses covering your belly as he pushed your shirt further up your body. He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, carefully helping you shimmy them down as his hand dipped between your legs, his fingers barely grazing against your entrance. “Javi, pleaseeee.” You moaned again, begging to have him do something to ease the throbbing burning in your core.

The sweet whispers of his name on your lips made his cock twitch. Early today, after you had wrecked him in his bedroom, teasing him as you stripped your clothes in front of him before getting in the shower, he was going to take his sweet time, making you beg for his touch. But as he took you in, every beautiful inch of you, his willpower crumbled in an instant. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you slow and deep, for you to feel all of him, to watch you come undone as you whispered his name, pulling him closer and closer into you with each stroke. He wanted to fuck you so that you could feel those 3 words he just couldn’t say to you yet.

“I know, baby.” His fingertips pressing just a little further, feeling how absolutely soaked you already were. “Wanna take my time with you, okay? Wanna make you feel good.” His voice sent shivers down your spine as you nodded, his fingers now slowly sinking deeper into you, making your back arch from his touch. He kissed along the inside of your thighs as his calloused thumb began to gently rub around your clit, his fingers already drenched as they began to steadily rock in and out of you. His kisses made their way from your thighs to your clit as he carefully flicked his tongue, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm underneath him. “Always so wet for me, pretty girl.” The hot breath of his words danced along your heat as his dark brown eyes locked with yours. He dipped his head back down, licking a long, broad strip against your bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back and forth over his fingers. His tongue swirled around your clit, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart as you moaned with each touch.

“It feels so good, Javi. Fuck, babyyyy.” You whined, feeling your cunt clenching tighter and tighter around his thick fingers as his mouth worked its magic between your legs. With each thrust of his hand and lap of his tongue, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the pressure in your stomach starting to build, your breaths heavy and shaky.

“I know you’re close, Osita. Let go, baby. Come for me. I got you.” He knew his words were just what you needed to send you over the edge. With a few more thrusts of his hands, he could feel your pussy flutter around his fingers.

“Javi, Javi, Javi, Jaaahhhhh-” You whimpered as you felt the heat grow at the base of your spine, pleasure shooting through your body as you came around his fingers, your jaw slack as you felt your legs shake.

“Such a good girl for me, Hermosa. My good fucking girl. Tastes so sweet, baby.” He praised, slowly pulling his hand out of your heat, dipping his fingers into his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. He sat up on his knees, still between your legs, the outline of his already hard dick pressed against his sweatpants as he pushed them down his hips before pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He leaned back down over you, grabbing one of the blankets by his feet to cover your bodies.

“Are you afraid a cow’s gonna see your bare ass?” You giggled, still coming down from your high as you gestured to the blanket now covering both of you. His arms outstretched outside of your shoulders as you laid on your back, he joined in your laughter, dropping his forehead down and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re ridiculous, Osita. Fuck, I love it. I love everything about you. Fuck. You’re fucking perfect.” He stared at you for a moment, his sweet brown eyes taking in all of you, like he couldn’t believe you were real. That you were his.

He swallowed, his mouth parted like there was more he was desperate to say but couldn’t quite get out. You pushed your head up off of the pillow underneath you, gently pressing his lips against yours, his hand shifting you cradle the back of your head, his fingers tugging at the ends of your hair as he set you back down. He shifted back slightly, using his hand to stroke himself a few times before flushing his hips against yours, his cock lined up with your entrance. Neither of you said anything, feeling at a loss for words in the moment, both of you silently seeming to agree that something about now felt different than all the other times before. You barely nodded your head as Javi slowly sank into you, taking his time, letting you adjust to him inch by inch before bottoming out, stopping for a moment as you let out a soft moan that Javi quickly swallowed with a kiss. He began to rock his hips back and forth, taking his time, gradually filling you deeper and harder with each thrust, his whispers hot against your neck.

“Fuck baby, I’ll never get enough of you. My fuckin’ perfect girl.”

“Javiiiii” You whined, your arms wrapping around back, nails pressing into his shoulders as his cock hit the spot inside you that lit you ablaze. His hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to rub your clit, still slow, taking his time with each graze of his fingertips as his pace held deep and steady. Every thrust in and out of his hips had you wrecked as he filled you so deeply and intensely, moaning his name as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you.

“I know, Hermosa, I know. Does it feel good, baby? Knowing you’re mine? That you’re the only one I ever wanna make feel like this?”

His words had you whimpering as he nipped at your neck, his hand gripping on your hip, thrusts becoming faster from your sounds. “Oh my god, yes, Javi. Fuck, it’s all yours. I’m all yours.” You wanted nothing more, for him to be the only one whose sweet words made you fall apart, the only one who ever came close to making you feel this way. You could feel the coil in your belly beginning to snap as the pad of his thumb rubbed rapidly against your clit, his cock driving into you as your vision went white.

“I know you’re close, Osita. I can feel it. Wanna see you when you come. Wanna see your beautiful face, pretty girl.” The brown pools of his eyes filled with want and need as they locked with yours. You could feel your foreheads touching, his damp curls brushing against you with each push of his hips, your bodies melting into each other as you felt the coil inside your belly snap.

“Fuck, Javi, fuck, baby, I’m gonna, gonna-.” Your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure shooting through every inch of you as you wrapped yourself around Javi. It was so intense, the way the feeling crashed through you, how everything about him had you completely wrecked, how tightly you could feel yourself clenching around his length as you came.

Watching you come completely undone under him, Javi found himself quickly falling apart at the sight of you. Each stroke was faster and sloppier than the last, like he was desperate to show you how badly he wanted you, needed you. He could feel the sweet tingle of his release building, his brain going blank as the words fell from his mouth. “That’s it baby. Fuck, Osita. Gonna cum so deep inside you, fuck you full of me. Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine. Soy tuyo, Osita. Mi corazón es tuyo. Es todo para ti. Eres mi todo, Osita. Te am-ahhhhhh.” (I’m yours, Osita. My heart is yours. It’s all for you. You’re my everything. I love yo-). He could feel each throb of his cock pulsing as he spilled into you, riding out his high with short, shallow thrusts, making sure every last drop of him was inside your walls. He melted into you, his body collapsing onto yours as your heavy breathes synced, chests rising and falling together.

You paused for a moment before you spoke. You replayed his words in your head over and over again, not sure what you were trying to convince yourself of. You weren’t sure of everything he had said, trying to piece together the Spanish you knew as you came down from your high, but if there was one sentence you knew for sure, it was the last one, even if it had gone unfinished.

Te amo. I love you.

“Javi…” You paused, your heart practically beating out of your chest. “What was the last part you said?”

Javi froze. You could feel his Adam’s apple bob against your chest as he swallowed, his head still buried in your neck. You waited for what felt like an eternity before he pressed himself off you, rolling over, laying beside you. “I uh, I don’t, um, I don’t remember all of it.” He tripped over his words, eyes scrunched tight, like he couldn’t bear to look at you out of fear of what he had said.

“Javi. Javier Jesús Peña. Please. Please tell me what you said.” You placed your hand on his chest, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you, your face pleading, practically begging to hear the words that had fallen from his lips once more.

“I’m yours, Osita. My heart is yours. It’s all for you. You’re my everything. I… Fuck.” You could see the tears welling behind his eyes after he ran his hand over his face. You moved your hand from his chest to under his jaw, cradling his cheek.

“Javi… Say it. Please.” Your words met his ears barely above a whisper. He paused, taking one more trembling breath, staring off into space for a moment, like he was praying with everything he had left in him that you really did want to hear it.

“Osita… Fuck. I… I love you.”

“Javi,” Your voice shook as you felt the tears trickle down your cheeks, rounding and red from the grin growing across your face. “I love you too.”

It was only for a moment that you saw his face mirror yours before you could feel his hands grasping around your face, pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel like fireworks were exploding inside you. He squeezed his arms around you, a mix of laugher and tears leaving your body as he pulled you on top of him, wrapping you in his embrace.

“Really?” He questioned, his words still shaky as he smiled at you, running his trembling hands through your hair.

“Of course, Pendejo. Of course I do.” You both laid there for a moment, breathing in sighs of relief and joy, soaking in every moment of that four letter word. You loved him. He loved you. Javier Peña loved you.

You rolled over, both of your bodies curled in the blanket on top of you, staring into the sky, now fading into a deep darkness, speckled with spots of shining stars above you. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing else besides the two of you. Up until now, there were few things in life that you had been sure of. On a Wednesday in late May, you knew one of those sure things was that you had fallen head over heels in love with Javier Peña. And now, you knew one of those sure things was that Javier Peña loved you too.

..............

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @persephone-girl

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darlingshane · 5 months

Text

Salt of the Earth ~ Part 3 (Final)

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC

Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.

Content/Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Friends to lovers, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Smut, Shower Sex, BJ's, P in V, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Addiction, Alcohol, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy, Undisclosed age gap.

Word Count: 12.3k // Chapters 8-10 // AO3 Link.

— Part 1 (Chapters 1-4) // Part 2 (Chapters 5-7)

A/N: This part includes my version of the famous 'Fishes' episode. Though having Maya in it changed a few things, most of it is pretty faithful to the actual script. I also borrowed some of the dialogue to keep it as close as possible.

Chapter 8: As warm as toast

Maya is hugging Michael’s back when the warm breath of her dog is pressed against her ear. She tells the dog to go back to sleep, but Coco, ignoring her request, whines a couple of times until Maya has no choice but to get up. Though it's still terribly early, she takes Coco out to the park down the street from Michael’s building. It's freezing outside, but that doesn’t stop Coco from zooming across the park a hundred times until she’s spent while Maya paces along the fence, wrapped in thick layers of hat, scarf, mittens and a bulky coat.

Upon their return, Maya fills Coco’s bowl and makes some coffee.

They’ve fallen into a nice routine with Michael. He’s made room in his life for them, as much as they’ve welcomed him open into theirs. Half a week they spent in his apartment, and the other half at Maya’s house.

While she sips on her coffee, she tries to guess what's inside the big wrapped box that has been sitting in Michael’s living room for a week. Curiosity has been killing her since she saw it the other day. Her fingers tap on one of the sides and lightly pull on the edge of the red and white paper, trying to sneak a peek of the box.

“I told you to leave that alone, Maybird. That’s not for you.” Michael catches her red-handed as he comes out of the bedroom.

“C’mon, Bear, let me open it already. It’s Christmas.”

“Uh-uh, it’s Christmas Eve.”

“Is it a sex swing? It feels like a sex swing.” She keeps tapping on the box.

“It's not a sex swing. Keep guessing.” Michael snorts, leaning over to kiss her good morning. “Your face is cold, did you go out?”

“Uh-huh.” She glances at Coco, who’s currently devouring her food by the kitchen. “She woke me up and dragged me outside.”

“At least she knows how to hold it and ask for the head.” Michael goes around the breakfast bar to fill a mug with coffee. “Remember that yorkie that Francie had that couldn’t stop peeing everywhere.”

“Well, training goes a long way.”

“That's what everyone kept telling her, but her parents ended up leaving a poor thing in the kennel.”

“I mean it's Francie. I'm not surprised. She really can't be trusted to take care of anything. How's she? I haven't seen her in ages.”

“She's around. I think. Last time I saw her was probably a couple of years ago. She’s banned from our house.”

“Why?”

“Beats me. It's a Sugar thing. I think Francie tried to hit on Pete or something. You'll have to ask Sug.”

“Really? Just when I thought she couldn’t sink lower.”

“Tell me about it.” He pulls up his sweats as he takes a seat on the couch next to her.

“Okay, stop trying to distract me. So, if it’s not a sex swing, or a pizza oven, which I really wanted by the way…”

“The sex swing?” He lifts a brow at her and takes a sip of his mug.

“The pizza oven, smartass. How about… a weighted blanket?”

“First, you don’t need any of those. You can cook pizza already in your oven, and why do you need a weighted blanket or a sex swing when you have me?”

“That’s true.”

“You know what? Go ahead and open it, but you’re gonna need Coco, cause like I told you, that’s not for you. C’mere Coco Girl.”

Coco’s floppy ears perk up at Michael’s call. The dog turns her head to look at Michael for a second before continuing chewing her food.

“She’s too busy to open presents right now.”

“Figures.”

They wait till she’s done, and Maya beams in delight, quickly tearing apart the flashy wrapping paper. That delight turns into a mocking frown when she finds out it’s a big, fluffy dog bed for Coco.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding. It’s not for me.”

“Aw, don’t be jealous, sweetheart. You know I have something else for you. She needed a bed here. This couch is so uncomfortable, no even a dog wants to lay here. She’s always either hoarding the bed or sleeping on the rug.”

“Yeah, I know.” Her lips curve up, watching Coco inspect her present before attempting to curl inside. “That’s it, baby, lay down. Good girl.”

“Are we still up for tomorrow?”

Maya sighs, “yeah, I think so. Did you tell them I was coming?”

“I said you might. Just in case you change your mind.”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

“No,” he strokes her hair with his free hand. “I really want you there.”

“What are we going to tell, y’know… everyone?”

Everyone – meaning Carmy. Though their relationship is practically nonexistent, the last thing she wants to do is show up holding hands with Michael and flaunt it on anyone’s face without a warning.

“Well, Richie is the only one who knows.” Cause he caught them last week making out at their usual bar. “I guess Tiff knows too. Does it freak you out? Do you wanna back out now?”

“No, no. I just… I guess I’m not ready to announce it on a day like this. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s okay, baby. I get it. It’s driving me crazy, too.”

“If they find out, that’s great, but I don’t just wanna put it out there right away.”

“We’ll just have to keep a low profile, then. How hard can it be?”

“I’ve never had a secret relationship before. It could be fun pretending, even if it’s just for a few hours.”

“We just have to hope Richie doesn’t blow our cover.”

“Oh, we’re screwed.”

“I don’t know about that. But I can tell someone is about to get screwed. Shower?” His brow playfully arches.

“Hmm, you’ve read my mind.”

It’s that rush of excitement of being with someone new that leads them quickly to the bathroom. He undresses her just as fast as she pulls his sweats and underwear off him. He hasn’t finished taking off her bra and his lips automatically invite themselves into her neck as she fumbles to get the water going so it warms up before stepping inside.

Under the warm spray of the water, their bodies fuse together. Lips against lips share a vicious amount of kisses and laughs. Their arms tangle around the other, her hands become his, and vice versa. The steam filling the room boils hotter when Michael turns Maya around and presses himself on her ass while one of his hands slides between her legs. Her palms brace the tiled wall, as his mouth bites the flesh at the curve of her neck. Her moans and curses sound like heaven when the blunt tip of his cock slides into her opening. His hips push painfully slow as her walls stretch inch after inch. Once he’s fully sheathed in her tender pussy, his eyes squeeze shut, he lets his desire guide the pacing of his thrusts. Maya waves her hips at the same time, countering his moves until both find the same rhythm. One of his hands clutches the curve of her ass, keeping her secured, as the other stays right on her pussy, rubbing her swollen clit with passion.

His back turns red as the hot water keeps pouring over him. The fiery pressure rising up in his core makes his cock throb inside her. He looks down to see his length disappear inside her fast with each push. At the same time, his mind dissipates somewhere up, above the mist of the bathroom, somewhere above clouds. It’s like he’s traded one addiction for another. As long as he’s with her, he’s safe. It’s not the healthiest way to deal with it, but right now he doesn’t give a shit. The climb to that high is way faster, it feels better, it’s less toxic, but it lasts shorter. That’s the only downside.

“Michael… please,” her breathing swallows, as she inches close to the finish line.

“I know, sweetheart, shh…. Come for me. C’mon…”

Following her plea, he pushes a little harder, rubs a little faster until her body seizes up. She lets out a strained moan that bounces off the steamed walls, as her opening contracts around him harder than he’s ever felt. Maybe it’s the position. It feels like pure bliss to have her squeezing every last drop of him.

Catching his own breath, he hangs his head down to rest on her nape for a moment. While still riding that high, he slowly slips out of her and drops to his knees on the shower floor. His hands handle her body around so she's facing him. As her abdomen lines up with his face, he glances up to capture her glowing aura, stunning as ever. Maya’s still floating in that same sea of ecstasy he floats on. It makes her look like a goddess from his position. Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, sticks to her skin as it touches the curves of her chest. Water trails down her body as if she was standing under a waterfall. And like the Goddess she is, he aims to devout himself only to her.

He gently holds one of her legs up, letting his lips glide across the surface of her thigh as he drapes her leg over his shoulder. His mouth waters as it gets closer to her center. Licking his lips, his eager tongue just to taste the heaven between her legs. It's slicked and tender, ready to consume. His mouth fits perfectly against it. Wide open. Desperate to please her with the flick of his tongue and ease his own affliction.

Maya leans her back on the wall, anchors her only feet hard to the floor, and grips at his soaked hair as his tongue works restlessly all over her sex. He sucks her clit between his lips, licks her folds, circles her dripping opening, and revels in tasting both, him and her. In a wild frenzy, he devours it all. It consumes his need and desperation for more. Her moans are exquisite. Her body writhes in his hold as she rises up gracefully to a higher plane.

Chapter 9: Bigger fishes to fry

“Are you really going to wear that?” Asks Maya as soon as she sees the outfit Michael has chosen for Christmas dinner.

“What’s wrong with this?” He gazes at his blue Under Armour shirt and jeans ensemble.

“Workout shirt, jeans and kicks, really? Why don’t you put on a nice sweater at least?”

“Baby, it’s just dinner at my house with the same fucking people I see every year. It's not like the Queen of England is gonna show up to have tea and biscuits.”

“C’mon, Bear, do it for me?” Maya pulls out her big adorable eyes and disarming smile.

“Ugh, alright, only for you.” Unable to resist her power, he easily yields and goes into his bedroom. From a drawer, he collects a dark blue fisherman sweater. Then he sticks his hand into the closet to pick up the vintage jacket she bought him for his birthday. To finish his new getup, he trades his sneakers for ankle boots.

Maya is taking out a dessert from the fridge that she bought this morning to take to The Berzattos.

“Wow,” her head turns when hearing his footfalls. “See, you look so much better now.”

“Yeah? You clean up pretty nice too,” he picks up her hand and makes her spin under his arm, capturing the stunning shape of her body hugged in a cream knitted dress that almost touches her knees. Right below, black leather boots cover the rest of her legs.

“Thanks, handsome bear.” After her spin, her head tilts to the side, capturing a chaste kiss from his lips.

“What’s that?” Michael points at the dish covered in tin foil on the breakfast bar.

“It's a strawberry tart.”

“You made a tart?” He lifts part of the foil to uncover the well-crafted pastry.

“What? Surprised that this tart made a tart?”

“Well, yeah. You almost poisoned me the last time you cooked.”

“You got me. I didn't make it. I bought it this morning when I took Coco out.”

Michael softly chuckles. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring that. Have you forgotten about pudding-gate? Donna's going to eat you alive if you show up with food.”

“Oh, I think that night was the first time I got drunk. I don't remember the details. But I do remember the pudding and eating a bowl with Carmy in the garage. Who brought it?”

“Uncle Jimmy's first wife.”

“That's right. She was never seen again after that. Okay, I guess I could bring a bottle of wine.”

“You're gonna make me look bad if I show up with nothing.”

“You could bring the tart, and say that you made it. I bet Donna will be delighted if it comes from the golden child.”

“That's a great idea, baby. It'll be a great distraction when she starts strangling me that people won't even notice this other tart.” His hand boldly squeezes her ass.

“Hey!” she swats his shoulder with the back of her hand. “I thought we agreed to keep our hands off each other.”

“I meant later. Here, I can still get a piece if I want.” He links his arms around her waist and peppers the curve of her neck with kisses, making her laugh with the coarse tickle of his beard.

“Oh, this is gonna be harder than I thought,” she whines when his lips nibble her earlobe.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” He laughs against her ear, gripping tightly at her hips. “I’m not sure how long I can make it without touching you like this.”

“Well, we better think of something…”

Ready to go, they hop in the car and drop Coco first at Maya’s house. While Michael waits in the car she collects a bottle of wine to bring for dinner.

It’s then that she gets jittery about the whole ordeal. It’s been years since she attended one of their functions. Christmas at the Berzattos was never a walk in the park, and as she has heard recently, they still aren’t. But she’s not the one to talk cause the Silvas have always had their own issues, proof of that is her desertion from her own family dinner.

“Okay, kiss me one more time,” she requests after parking at the end of the street. They both lean in to meet in the middle over the center console for a chaste kiss. “One more.”

Michael delves into her mouth a little deeper, hoping it’d ease her up.

As they walk up to the house, they pass Maya’s empty childhood home, and Michael just wraps an arm around her and kisses her hair.

“Their loss,” he mumbles. “Don’t think about them, Maybird.”

“I won’t.”

His arm unfurls away from her body as they get closer to the Berzattos’ house. When they reach the door, they stay there for a minute, filling their lungs with cold air as they muster the courage to cross the threshold.

The house is loud with people talking and laughing when they step inside.

Maya can see Michael's face changing as the door closes behind them. That raw vulnerability, his bashful expression he's not afraid to show her slips once again behind that mask he's fought so hard to get rid of. She can't hold it against him. Everyone has their coping mechanisms and this is Michael's.

She becomes suddenly the new sensation, everyone openly welcomes her as if they hadn't seen her in ages. Which is actually the case. She's bombarded with questions she doesn't really want to answer like — How are your parents? How does it feel being back? Are you seeing someone?

Mirroring Michael's, she just draws her best smile and tries to satisfy their curiosity while Michael takes a smoke break with Sugar leaving her to be eaten by wolves before she can protest.

To Maya’s disbelief, after the third degree, she’s welcomed with open arms by Donna Berzatto, who is just as intense as she remembers. Hair on point, makeup on point, fresh manicure softly scratches Maya’s jaw when she briefly holds her face.

“We've missed you, Mayhem Maya.” Donna actually coined that nickname after that incident when she broke one of her figurines when she was a kid. And she'd never live that down. It makes her feel like a child every time she calls her that or the way she manages to compliment her and patronize her at the same time.

“Hey,” she hears the familiar voice as Donna disappears into the kitchen.

Maya turns around to see Carmy climbing down the stairs.

“Hey, you made it,” she says a little hesitant, trying to decide whether to hug him or just shake his hand as he reaches the last step.

“You too.”

Hug. She goes for it and tucks her arms around his shoulders for no more than two seconds. It feels a little awkward and cold given their history but understandable. They're not as close anymore, and it doesn't come as natural as it used to. She tries to internalize that as best as she can, but there’s still something that doesn’t feel right. Maybe this wasn’t the best moment to show up back again into his life. Being Michael’s girlfriend, no less. Perhaps deciding to hide that wasn’t the best choice after all. It sounded reasonable when she chose that, but right now, it feels like she’s betraying him.

“How's Copenhagen?”

“Cold. How is being back?”

“Weird.”

“Tell me about it… Never thought I'd see you again in one of these functions.”

“Yeah, Michael insisted. You knew I was coming, right?”

He nods. “Sugar told me.”

They shoot back and forth meaningless questions without really diving into anything substantial. For the first time, she looks at his cold blue eyes and realizes they're not best friends anymore. She might have known everything about him once upon a time, but now it feels like talking to a stranger, and it breaks her heart not being able to pass that invisible wall between them.

Maya stares at him one last time as they are interrupted by the rest of the party. He’s dragged to a mindless conversation with Neil and Ted Fak, while Michelle brings Maya a drink and settles with her on the couch to catch up.

Carmy manages to escape the Faks and asks for some help from his siblings that were hiding outside.

Michael does another quick round before disappearing again somewhere with Richie.

“I thought you weren’t serious about bringing her.” Richie takes him to the garage where they open a couple of beers.

“I was dead serious. And please, don’t say anything. Tonight, we’re just friends, alright?” he gives him a menacing look.

“You’re dead for sure when Carmy finds out. Don’t get me wrong I love Maya, but is she all that? Is she worth the trouble, Cousin?”

“She’s all that and a basket of biscuits.”

Soon, Michael thinks. Soon everyone will know how much he loves her but for now, this is for the best. This is what she wants and he respects that.

When they go back into the house, Michael goes checking if she needs a break from socializing. Figures, she probably does as much as he does. She's not in the living room anymore, or anywhere on the first floor. He climbs upstairs and from the cracked door to his room, he finds her snooping around the bedroom with a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hey. What are you doing up here?”

“The bathroom downstairs was occupied, so I came up here, and I realized I never really saw your room. Was it always like this?”

“Kinda. It’s cleaner for starters. The walls used to be covered in Red Sox merchandise and movie posters. It’s all in the basement at The Beef now.”

“Traitor,” Maya mockingly squints her eyes before taking a sip of her glass.

“Why do you care, you don’t even watch baseball?”

“Yeah, but if I had to pick I wouldn’t even dream of going against my own home team,” she says, scanning a pile of CD’s on the corner of the desk and picking one from the middle. “Marky Mark, really? Who are you?”

“That’s Sugar’s.”

“Sure it is,” she laughs.

“This is why you came up here, to make fun of me?”

“Nope, I just like snooping.” She turns around and keeps flicking through those albums while Michael shuts the door to seize that as an opportunity to kiss her again.

“Hey, c’mere.” Quickly wetting his lips, he cups her face as it turns to the side and gently captures the flavor of her mouth soaked in white wine.

“Hmm, we’re a lost cause,” she says as his lips bounce a few times against her.

“I know.” Michael hums, unable to stop himself from going deeper into her mouth.

As she places her glass on the desk, his tongue swipes past her lips.

Michael moves his hands to her hips, as Maya links her arms around his neck, letting her tongue slowly play with his.

His mouth grows hungrier and desperate for more. She can feel it at the eager tip of his tongue demanding more action. He blindly guides Maya to the bed, and almost without breaking from the other, as she settles on her back, he pushes all the coats people left on his bed to the side. Michael lies on top of her, nestling between her legs, claiming ferociously another kiss from her mouth.

From zero to sixty, his hand slips beneath the hem of her dress and hikes the skirt up to her waist to grab her ass. He digs his fingers on her skin over her tights. He could rip the fabric apart in a second if he pressed a little harder.

Maya hums in his mouth, struggling to keep up with the burning passion he's pouring into her lips as the coarse texture of his beard scratches her face.

The setting is a little off-putting for her right now no matter how much she wants him and as his bulge hardens between her legs, she promptly puts a halt on.

“Michael, baby, shh. We can’t do this here.”

“We’re just making out. The door is closed.”

“We’re not just making out. You’re already hard. What if someone comes in?”

“There’s a lock on the door. I closed it.”

“The lock is not the problem. It's this place. This house.”

“The house is cock-blocking you?”

“Pretty much. Yeah. Let’s just take a breath and go back down. We’ll finish this later at home. See, this is why we can’t be left alone.”

“Okay,” he begrudgingly rolls to the side with a sigh, feeling a little disappointed to be honest and stares at the ceiling. “Is it the house or is it Carmy being here?”

“I don't know. Maybe both.” She leans on her elbow to look at him.

“I see.”

“It’s not like I don’t want to. I do. More than you know, Bear. I just feel weird about doing this right here. We said the other day that we should be honest with each other to make this work. And this is me being honest.”

“I know, baby. I get it. I just… All I wanna do is be with you right now. Can't stop thinking about you. That’s why this happens…” he gestures vaguely as his crotch.

“Now, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to give you blue balls. I know how much that hurts.”

“I don’t think you do,” he snorts.

“I’m sorry,” her palm covers her smile. “I really am. But I… I guess I could do something about it. Don’t move.”

Maya’s fingers glide over his crotch to undo his fly.

“Wait, are you changing your mind?”

“No, but I don’t wanna leave you like that either. Just trust me.” She shifts on the bed as her hand slides under the fabric to feel the pressure of his straining erection.

Biting her lip, she locks eyes with him as her fist curls around his shaft as Michael’s hand wraps around hers.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I wanna. Just because I can’t, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t. Let me do this for you. Please.”

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” he sighs, letting her hand move up and down his hardness.

“I know. Just relax for me. I'll make it quick.”

Maya leans closer to his face to lock her lips with his. His low grunts echo in her mouth while her fist prompts him to spill his early drops of arousal. They help her pump more swiftly. He has to bury his sounds deep in his throat when she parts from his mouth and moves her head down his torso so he can finish him with a blow.

“Fuck, Maybird,” he moans as her lips wrap tightly around his swollen gland. Her hand keeps a nice pressure at the base as her head bobs quickly to have him climaxing all over her tongue.

She cleans him up, licks her lips and makes sure nothing was spilled on their clothes before taking a long swig of the glass of wine on the desk to get rid of the aftertaste of his cum.

“God, sweetheart, that was…” he stands up and pulls his clothes together while she finishes her drink. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“You better.” She collects a pocket mirror from her purse to check her makeup. As she moves Michael's jacket out of the way, something falls from its pocket — a round pill container lands at her feet.

She means to bend down and pick up, but she freezes. It's Michael the one to reach and grab it. Maya stiffens, stares at him as he quickly tucks in his pocket. Unable to process any thought at all, she pins that in her head to revise later. As she intended to do, she fixes her hair and makeup.

Michael should have left those at home. He didn’t even mean to grab them. It was just exactly that– a habit he can’t break yet. Especially on a night like this.

“Hey,” he says softly, holding her chin under his finger and tilts her head up so he can capture her eyes. “We'll talk about it later, okay?”

“Okay.”

She checks her face in the mirror a second time to make sure there’s no visual signs of her just going down on Michael before leaving the room.

Their hands are still linked together when they step into the hallway, and it isn't until they spot Natalie coming from another room that they quickly pull them apart.

So much for being sneaky… There's no way she didn't see that. The shock flashing across her face is telling.

“Michael, can I talk to you?”

“We should go downstairs before… Carmy can't handle all those people.”

“This won't take a minute,” she says firmly.

He glances at Maya, and they nod at the other.

As Maya returns to the party, Sugar can't help but question Michael about it.

“I don't know what you saw, but it's not what you think, Sug.”

“You came out of your room holding hands. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to put two and two together. Are you dating her?”

“Would you have a problem with that?”

“I don't know… It's just… She's Maya. She practically grew up here. In this house. She and Carmy were… you haven't told him, have you?”

“Nobody knows yet. Well, just Richie. But it hasn't been going on for long, and we just thought it'd be best to wait.”

“And you brought her here tonight?”

“I didn't want her to spend the night alone. Do you think it's weird, me and her?”

“I don’t think it’s weird. I… I guess it's a little unexpected. It just caught me off guard. If you had given me a warning…”

“You wouldn't be so shocked. I'm sorry. I wanna tell everyone, but it's all so new, and she's…”

“Maya.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, it's an adjustment, but if you're happy with her, then I'm happy, Bear. Does she make you happy?”

“She does,” he smiles bashfully.

When Michael and Natalie join the rest, Cicero and his wife arrive. Uncle Lee follows.

The delicious smell of food cooking fills every nook with the house and Maya's stomach rumbles under layers of wine. She desperately needs to soak all that alcohol before it's too late.

She goes into the kitchen to find Michael casually leaning on the counter bantering with his mother as she works against the clock, cooking those seven fishes that’s the staple dish of her house.

“You doing good?” He gives Maya a look as she props her hands on the breakfast bar.

“Hm-hm.”

“You hungry too?” He guesses and Maya only nods at his question as Donna points at the meatball casserole on the counter.

“Here,” Michael grabs one meatball from the casserole, dabs the sauce on the edge so it drips as he lifts it up to her mouth. His eyes light up as she carefully bites half of it directly from his fingers. Then he shoves the other half into his mouth. Smiling at the other, both thinking about what they did earlier as they fight the urge of eating each other's mouths again.

A beat after, Maya looks to the side to see Carmy standing by the door as Donna barks something at him. She swallows, watching people come and go out of the kitchen. The timer goes off as voices get louder all around. Maya helps herself to another drink in the middle of the whirlwind of chaos of the heart of the house while Carmy takes him upon himself to organize the mess of the kitchen against Donna's wishes.

“Ma, why don't you let him help you? It's all he fucking does.” Michael picks up another meatball and offers it again to Maya, but she declines this time.

“What was that?” Carmy glances annoyed at Michael. “Like uh, that was a shot or…”

“Wasn’t a fucking shot.”

“Mikey, he’s helping me. Back off.”

“Yeah, that was a shot.” Carmen states more sternly this time. “I'm the guy that does food. You're the guy that what? You-you, uh… You start 100 different businesses and have zero follow-through.”

“You’re the one to talk,” Maya rolls her eyes, taking a long sip of her wine.

“Yeah, what are you doing here? Thought you had a husband.”

“Wow. Leave her out of this, Carm. She’s here cause I asked her to.”

“It’s fine, Michael. Let Annie Oakley take her shots at me.”

“Okay, this is why I didn't wanna come home. This is why.”

“Fuck you!” Donna shouts.

“What the fuck? Why the fuck would you say that?” Michael raises his voice. “It's fuckin' Christmas. Why would you say something like that?”

“Whatever, okay? Whatever.”

“Maya, sweetie, can you bring some ice from the freezer in the garage?” Asks Donna in the middle of the argument, and she just silently agrees.

All their voices ebb as Maya disappears into the hallway that leads to the garage to grab some ice and pull herself together. She stays there for longer than she should, collecting her thoughts and checking her phone for all her friends and co-workers messages and sending some of her own. Her eyes pull away from the screen when the door swings open.

She tucks her phone in her pocket as Carmy climbs down the two steps into the room.

“What are you doing here?”

“Grabbing some ice.” She glances at the freezer where her ass is propped.

“No. I mean, why did you come here at all?”

She shrugs, folding her arms against her stomach.

“Michael invited me.”

“It’s pretty fucking weird, don’t you think?”

“Why? I used to come here all the time when we were kids. Hell, the first time I got drunk was right in this garage with you.”

“Yeah, that’s my point. You and I aren’t friends anymore, Maya. It doesn’t make sense that you’d come anymore.”

“You've made that clear but hey, you’re the one who stopped talking to me in the first place.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. I’m not psychic, Carmen.”

“Doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“No? It matters to me.”

“Guess I got tired of waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me? You’re completely delusional, you know that?”

“Am I? I thought you were different, but you’re just…”

“Just what? Are you going to call me a slut or something? You better watch your mouth.”

“No. You’re… reckless.”

“I'm reckless? For what? Living my life? Growing up? Marrying another guy?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d rather be reckless than be anything like you, Carmen. You think you're better than me, than anyone in here, but you're not. You're conceited. You've always looked at everyone down from your ivory tower like you've never made a mistake in your life. You said you were waiting for me? You had many opportunities to say what you felt, and you never did, why is that? Because you’re a fuckin’ coward. I’ve watched string along girls you weren’t into for longer than you should have. Anytime anyone has shown you an ounce of love, you’ve run the other way. You've shut down me and everyone out cause you don’t know how to love anyone but your self-righteous, narcissistic ass.”

“That’s rich coming for someone who’s fucking my brother.” His voice comes out deeply loud as Maya swallows. “You think I’m dumb? It’s written all over your face.”

Her posture stiffens all of a sudden. She opens her mouth to contradict his words, but she can't. It's pointless. He's chosen to attack, and she's going to stand and take blow after blow without throwing some of her own.

“You had your chance, Carmen, and you never took it. And the worst part is that you expected me to do something about it, but it really wasn’t up to me. I’m sorry I never felt anything for you… but I don’t think you ever loved me like you wanted either. You only thought you did cause I was there all the time. It was easy, right? We were friends. Best friends. And you ruined that.”

“So did you.”

“Yeah, we can agree on that.”

“It’s fucked-up, y’know?”

“What is?”

“You and my brother.”

“You know what’s fucked up?” She pegs him with a harsh twisted brow. “You. Coming here judging everyone and pretending you know anything about me or him. Say, when was the last time you said I love you just cause you wanted to and not because someone said it first? When was the last time you were in a relationship that lasted more than two dates? When was the last time you woke up next to someone and the thought of leaving them ripped your heart apart? I'd rather take risks and be called reckless than feel nothing, do nothing, say nothing at all, and turn into a bitter asshole like you.”

Maya walks past him and heads out the door without giving him the opportunity to respond.

As tears threaten to come out, she stops in her tracks and draws a fortifying breath to keep herself from falling apart. Though she knew sooner or later she’d have to deal with Carmy, that conversation was truly more difficult to deal with than she expected. She couldn't handle that better if he wasn't acting like an asshole.

Disheartened… Maya feels just at home. It really is no different from being with her own family. Next year, she swears she's going to take a trip or just stay at home with Coco, which sounds like something she should've done today. Coming here tonight was a mistake. If she could turn back time to earlier in the day and convince herself to stay at home she would.

In the never-ending night of riffs, she overhears Donna yelling at Natalie in the kitchen as she crosses the hallway. In the living room, Michael has everyone's attention while telling one of his stories. Every one seems entertained except for Uncle Lee that has to poke the bear as usual.

It feels like an eternity until dinner is finally served it doesn't get better once everyone is sitting at the table. No. Because, of course, there can't be a moment of peace, everything escalates from that point.

Maya’s taking a swallow of her glass when Lee starts telling the story about the seven fishes and the Dutch oven when Michael makes a buzzing sound and throws a fork at him. It hits his shoulder.

“Wrong answer.”

“Did you just throw a fork at me?” Lee's high-pitched tone breaks.

“I did,” Michael snorts.

They both start bitching back and forth. The tension strains harder after every word, every sentence interrupted, every thought unfinished.

She places her glass down as the animated conversation grows more heated by the second. The voices get louder. There's a countdown hovering over the table showing how many seconds are left for the bomb to go off. Maya hears the ticking in her head, or maybe that's just the sound of her own heart racing.

In the heat of the moment, Michael borrows a second fork from Fak and repeats the same action. This time he misses Lee's head by an inch.

Everyone tries to put off the fire before it rises, but Michael is too far gone into his own head, nobody can talk sense into him.

“Cousin, you're scaring the normals.” Richie nervously laughs.

“This is fine. It's nothing.”

“Mikey, can you hear me, buddy?”

“Not now, Stevie.”

“Cut it out.”

“Hey, look, here's the thing.” He leans back on his chair ignoring everyone. “You see, I can throw forks cause this is our father's house. My father's house.”

“Okay you have everyone's attention so go ahead, tell us a story we've all heard a million times already.”

“That's good Lee.” He laughs manically while Lee goes on a rant about him living off his mom and borrowing money from everyone.

“… I don't know what the fuck you're on, but if you can hear me through the fog, throw another fork at me, you're gonna get fuckin’ rocked!”

There's a long moment of silence. Michael scratches his beard and gazes to his side, where Maya is sitting trying to process the whole thing happening before her eyes.

“Hey, Maybird.” He says softly, and waits until she looks at him. “I just… You think I could just borrow that for one second…” he points at her fork.

“Michael don't,” she tries to say, but the rest of the table speaks louder over her voice.

“It's okay, baby.” It slips out as he picks up her fork. “This is fine. I’m fine.”

“Michael. Please don't do this!” It's Natalie's words that stand out over the others. “Hey!” She calls his attention and when Michael glances at the opposite side of the table and Sugar lowers her voice. “I love you. Okay?”

“I love you, too, Sug.”

“I'm begging you. Don't do it.”

He vaguely nods. But he's dead set on making everyone shift in their chairs as the ridiculous dispute picks up again.

The flames touch the ceiling, and there's nothing she can do to smother the fire.

Maya nudges his thigh under the table with her knee, and says his name softly, hoping it'd be enough to calm him down. But it's too late, he's already so riled up that not even her can't stop him from rising from his chair, fork in hand taunting Lee non-stop.

Petrified, she stares at the man she loves, the one who looked like a dreamboat when she woke up next to him this morning, turning into something completely different. The cracks of his mask can't hold any longer. Behind it, it all slips out. His haunted expression taking over the rough edges of his face, the sorrow in his eyes, and his tired voice, makes her heart hurt.

“Bear.” She resorts to a term of endearment, but there is no use. He's on a different plane now, guided by his addiction.

Her eyes well up as Lee keeps repeating that he’s nothing. She can see his gears spinning in a different direction and for a moment everyone stays still watching everything unfold until Donna comes into the room.

That only puts a temporary patch on the wound. It's only a matter of time before someone takes it away to let blood spill all over the table. Michael sits back down, pushing his hair back before clutching the fork again in his fist as Donna lights up a cigarette and takes a seat.

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing.”

“I missed something.”

“Uh, Stevie, Stevie's about to say grace, Ma.”

“Ooh, good, yes.”

“Go ahead and take it away there, Stevie.”

“I uh… I don't think…”

“Just say the fucking thing, Stevie.”

The tension eases up for those couple of minutes while Steve improvises grace. It all seems perfect for a moment, they all nod and smile a Steve’s kind words, but that countdown is still ticking down every last fucking second.

Everything afterward is a tableau of surreal events tangled together that would play in Maya’s head for years to come… Donna’s meltdown, Michael throwing the last fork, flipping the table and taking a more physical approach against uncle Lee, Donna losing her hinges and crashing the car into the house, the police attending the disturbance…

Out of all the memorable dinners she's had in this house, this one really takes the cake.

It's the shitshow of a lifetime that nobody will ever forget.

Chapter 10: Basket of biscuits

It’s past the witching hour when all the voices, all the noise, all the sirens, and rumblings of his own thoughts quiet down in his head when he closes the door as he settles on the driver's seat. And at once, the only voice he wanted to hear the most echoes in his head with one simple word — his name. The fear in her tone haunts him. He probably scared the shit out of her after what went down. Staring at the ruins of the front of his childhood home, Michael turns on the engine and takes a final look before steering Maya’s car out of that place.

Maya left earlier, after the police took everyone’s statement. Though she wasn’t as drunk as he was, he begged her to take a cab back home. While Donna refused to leave the house, everyone eventually left as well. Michael stayed all the way through while they boarded up the hole in the wall as a temporary measure.

Sobering down, the road gets clearer the closer he gets to Maya. He can't stand the thought of her being witness to his frantic meltdown. All he can see now, clear as day, the utter disbelief and fright in her eyes when she was pleading him to stop. He should have listened. He should have held himself better in that situation. Drugs or not, there's nothing or no one to blame but himself. That was… Embarrassing. Even for him. He swore he'd never sink that low, that he'd never let anyone see that part of him. It was bound to happen. He lost control and everyone saw. And if he wasn't for Donna interrupting his act, he's not sure how far he'd have gone.

For a split moment, he blames it on something else taking over his actions, like being possessed by one of his demons. But it doesn't last long. He can’t continue denying the fact that he’s the only one responsible for his actions. Claiming otherwise would only delay the inevitable.

They say all roads lead to Rome, and if keeps driving in the same direction, he’d surely find the only possible outcome to this. It’s time to veer off the path and find that there’s more world to see besides Rome.

He has to find a new way, and she is the only thing that could save him from this right now. However, after tonight, it wouldn't surprise him if she was already thinking about kicking him to the curve. He would blame her.

Christmas lights and empty streets quickly take him to her house. He can even imagine what’s going through her head right now… but it’s time to find out.

He parks on the driveway and takes measured steps toward the front door as the weight of the world perches on his shoulders. He feels like shit and the biggest asshole in the world for breaking his promise.

The glow of the TV and tree lights shine faintly behind the curtains when he knocks on the door. He should have called before, he realizes on that spot. Or even just text her to say he was coming so she would know what to expect. But there’s not going back now.

She takes her time to open the door and when she does, he’s met with the reflection of all his fears coming true. It flashes across her face the disappointment and disgust and utter terror of what happened at the table.

“I brought your car.” He reaches out to hand her the keys.

Hesitantly, she collects them, and makes room for him to enter before closing the door behind him.

“I… You shouldn't be driving.”

“It's fine. Sobered out pretty soon after… Where's Coco?”

“Upstairs. Hoarding the bed.” Maya puts the keys on the console table as they stand by the staircase railing. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, Carm and Sug stayed with her at the house for the night. Everyone else left. ”

“She wouldn't leave?”

“No, she locked herself in her room.”

“That's crazy.”

“Yeah, another Christmas at The Berzattos. Hey, but at least none of us got locked up.”

“That's not funny, Michael.”

“It wasn't meant to be funny.”

“I think you should go… You should've stayed with them.”

“I wanted to check on you.”

“I'm fine.” Her tone says otherwise.

“Are you?”

“I was about to go to sleep.” She’s already slipped into her pj’s and was just watching TV cause she couldn’t fall asleep.

“That doesn't answer my question.”

“What do you want me to say? Of course, I'm not okay. You lied to me.”

“What… When did I lie to you?”

She fights the urge of rolling her eyes and instead, crosses her arms against her midsection to keep herself together.

“You said you weren't using when you were with me, but tonight you did. Instead of coming to me and saying — hey I'm dealing with this and that, you straight up hid it, and then you just… went off. I thought we were being honest with each other.”

He hangs his head down as she tiredly leans her back against the wall.

“I don't know how to help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Michael.”

“There's nothing you could've done.”

“Maybe not but you didn't even give me the chance to. I'm really concerned about you and after tonight… I don't know… I'm out of my depth here. I knew it was bad, but it's worse than I thought… If you're not seeing that, if you're not willing to admit that… Then maybe we should take a step back and consider our options before going further.”

“Consider our options? You're getting cold feet now?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just…” she sighs in exhaustion. “You should go. It's been a long night. And I'm not in the mood for this.”

“If you're gonna break up with me, just say it. Don't wait till tomorrow.” Though it’d be the right decision for her to do, he can’t stand the thought of not being with her now that he’s seen what it is to have her in her life. It would rip his soul and heart apart to hear her say those words.

“I don't wanna break up with you, but I can see that you're going through something right now, and I think it’d be best to talk about this tomorrow or the day after with clear heads.”

“Okay, okay…” he says under a heavy breath, as he shortens the distance between them.

Michael cups her jaw, and places his lips gently on her forehead.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He tries to not sound desperate but it fails so badly.

“Michael…” He grabs his wrist and takes a step back to detach herself from his hold.

“Please, Maybird, I don't wanna go. I… I can’t be alone right now. I’d… I don’t know what I’d do…” There’s something brewing inside him and if tonight wasn’t bad enough, not being able to be with her would send him down to that hole of despair he’s dug himself.

“You're scaring me, Michael.”

“Fuck, I know… I know I’m an asshole. I just…” He frantically runs a palm over his beard as he keeps pleading. “I need you. Don’t make me leave. I'm begging you.”

Those words put her between the sword and the wall. As much as he loves him, as much as she’d want him to stay, she’s still shaken and would rather be alone right now. But she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to him because she sent him away.

Before she has the chance to reply, while she gathers her thoughts he dramatically drops to his knees on the verge of tears.

“Please. I’d do anything for you, but don’t ask me to go.”

“Michael…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he grabs her waist, pulls her close, and links his arms around her hips, planting his full face on her abdomen. He swallows his sobs in his relentless ramble. “Please, baby, I need you… I’m sorry I lied to you… I’m so sorry that I'm scaring you… I swear I’d never hurt you…”

Her eyes brim with tears and unable to pull away she just holds his head protectively in her hands, threading her fingers in her hair to calm him down.

“You’re everything to me, Maybird. I know I’m a pathetic loser and that I don’t deserve you, but I’m fucking ready… just tell me what to do… I don’t know how to fix this… please just… let me stay…”

“Shh, it’s okay, Bear.” She’s so overcome by the love she has for him, she doesn’t have the strength to kick him out. So, she just gives up to his implore. “We’ll figure it out.”

Michael’s breaking point came like the most unexpected Christmas gift he didn't ask for. He can't return it or exchange it for something else. It's only up to him to either throw it away and pretend it didn't happen or use that as the catalyst to his recovery. They say that sometimes you have to break down to break through. And he went down so many levels, that there’s only one option but to go up from there. No because he feels like he has to, but he'd do anything to stay with Maya, and he knows the only way to do it is to climb out of the dirt.

After falling asleep in Maya’s arms, he wakes up in her bed alone the next morning. The clock says it is 10am when he looks up to her night stand and from the feet of the bed is only Coco, keeping a close watch of him. Her tail starts wagging when he gazes at her and extends his hand to scratch her head.

“Hey, Coco girl.” His voice rasps as she climbs up closer to lick his face relentlessly, slobbering all over his beard. “Okay, okay, that's enough, sweetheart.”

He holds her close and scratches her neck to calm her down, as Maya’s measured footfalls make the stairs creak when she climbs up. He looks to the door and watches her as she enters the room. She's fully dressed and by the amount of layers she's clad in, it looks like she's been outside.

“Morning.” She smiles softly as she proceeds to take off her hat and scarf.

“Morning.” He props himself on his elbow while Coco jumps suddenly out of the bed and circles around Maya’s legs before leaving the room at once. “Went out?”

“Yeah, just went for a drive and grabbed some breakfast. You two looked so cozy together, I thought I should let you sleep a bit longer. You're not opening today, right?”

“No. C’mere, sweetheart.” He finds her hand and gently tugs on it so she would sit down next to him. “I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have come here like that. I thought I was…”

“Sh, it's okay. You already apologized, hon.”

“No. That wasn't me. That was fucking embarrassing.”

“Is this you now?” She tenderly moves his straightened hair away from his forehead and combs it softly.

“Think so.”

“You look better.” Her fingers keep gently peppering him with caresses all over his head and neck.

“I feel like shit.” He gets a hold of her hand and kisses her knuckles. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“No. I can’t really stay mad at you for long. You know that. And the good thing about all this is that since last night, I haven't really thought about being ditched for Christmas by my family.”

“Fuck, I'm such an asshole… I had all these plans with you after dinner… and I totally ruined everything. We didn't even get to open our presents.”

“It's okay. I promise. We'll try again next year. Maybe just the two of us.”

“You still think we'll be together next year?”

“I have no idea. But I'm hoping so… I want to.”

“God, you’re a fucking angel.”

“I’m not,” she laughs softly.

“Yeah, heaven-sent. You took care of me last night when you had your own thing going on. Not many people would’ve done that.”

Maya leans in and kisses his temple before wrapping her arms around his neck. She bathes him with love cause she’s not sure what else to do than to show him that she needs him just as much.

“How about we get some food in you?” She smooches his head and as she attempts to stand up, he curls his arms around her, pulling her down with him.

“Not yet, baby. Let's stay here for a minute. I'm not hungry.”

She relaxes in his hold and cuddles with him until his phone goes off.

“It's Sugar.” Maya sees on the screen. “Are you gonna pick it up?”

He vacillates, but he ends up taking the call while Maya dislodges herself from his embrace. She collects a tray and some food from the kitchen while Natalie tells Michael that they finally got their mother out of the house. She'll be at Nat's for a few days until they fix the front of the house.

“Yeah… I'll take care of it. See you later.” Maya overhears as she returns to the bedroom with his breakfast.

“Everything alright?” She sits down on the mattress, placing the tray in the middle.

“Yeah. She asked me to go talk to uncle Jimmy's friend. You know, the contractor? He said he could get it done fast.”

“That's good, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What's wrong?”

“I don't know… I just… how can I look at these people in the face after what I did.”

“Because you're Michael fucking Berzatto. And you don't take shit from no one.” She tries cheering him up. “Uncle Lee was an asshole. Nobody cares that you threw a couple of forks at him. They're worried about you. And I don't think anyone remembers what you did. Donna upstaged the two of you, I'm afraid.”

“How do you manage to put a positive spin on everything?”

“Someone has to.”

As much as he loves hearing her talk like that is time for a reality check. Besides Maya being the brightest light in his life from the past few months, the rest have been hell. The restaurant has been struggling for way longer than he’d like to admit and has become the biggest failure of his life. His dependency has only been exacerbated by the pressure he’s put on himself to try to fix all by himself. All the lies, the high expectations, and the way his family look up to him for answers and comfort have become a lead weight on him.

The Beef was an inherited mess that was passed down to him when his father died. He took it upon himself to carry the family business to keep the family afloat, especially since Carmen and Natalie were merely teens, and there was nobody else but him to provide for all of them. He always thought he’d had his own restaurant and part of that pipe dream was bringing Carmy along. That dream faded as soon as he got hit with the hard cold truth that managing a restaurant, even a sandwich shop wasn’t as easy as his father made it look. But to be fair the late Berzatto didn’t have the best system either. It was all back door deals and handshakes and fucking agreements with this guy and this other guy. It made him wonder if the old trio had some shady business going on. Even Maya’s uncle was involved at some point, he recalls seeing his name a couple of times in one of the accounting books.

To sum it all up, he was set up with a business that was already failing before got it. His optimism and passion could only keep him trying for so long. The last couple of years have been hell, and at this point he’s not sure if he wants to run it anymore. He’s toyed with the idea of burning it to the ground and starting over, or just selling it and walking away. But there are a lot of factors in play that are stopping him from doing that. Like disappointing his family or the people who work for him. And let's not forget the big question of what Michael would do if he didn’t have The Beef.

With a heavy heart he finally pours everything out to Maya. If someone can understand, it’s her. She knew when her life needed a turn and took it. He’s at the same crossroads right now, but unlike her, he doesn’t feel brave enough to do what needs to be done.

Maya draws a breath, absorbing every single thing Michael has laid out. It’s a lot to process, but her mind is already spinning ideas and questions that could potentially help him.

“You could sell and start over. The Beef is not your failure. It wasn’t even your dream to begin with. And I don’t think anyone will hold it against you if you give it away.”

“I guess I’m not ready to give up, you know? I don’t know what I’d do if I walked away now.” He shifts in the bed, laying on his side, placing his head on her lap while she plays with his hair.

“What about the restaurant you wanted to open with Carmy? It was all you talked about once upon a time. ”

“I can't bring him into this. He's better off without me.”

“He's not. Your brother is fucking miserable.”

“How do you know that? Did he tell you that?”

“No… but we shared some words last night, I don't want to get into the whole thing right now, but I could tell that he's not happy either.”

“Last night… He gave me this thing. It was a sketch he did about that restaurant… I just don't know how to make you both understand that I have no idea how to make it true. He's worked so hard to be where he is now…. I won’t be the one to keep it away from all that.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe you could learn something from him and that teaming up would solve all your problems?”

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t want to take that chance. I won’t ruin his career. He’s where he’s supposed to be.”

“You know, you’ve talked a lot about not wanting to let everyone down and keeping everyone happy. But when are you gonna start taking care of yourself, Bear? All those people you’re caring for, they’re pretty much grown up. They don’t need you to keep holding their hand. Not Natalie, nor Carmy, nor your mother. And don’t get me wrong, the way you care for them is part of the reason I care for you… but at some point you’re going to have to care for yourself too. Cause I can’t keep an eye on you 24/7.”

“Did you go to shrink school or something?” He scoffs, glancing up at her eyes from his comfortable spot.

“No, I wish! It’s hard to put yourself above anyone else… I get it. But you’re going to have to, Michael. If you don’t, it’ll eventually catch up with you. The pressure, the pills, the need to please everyone…”

“What if it’s too late?”

“It’s not. I promise it’s not. I know it seems that way, but you, asking the right questions… That tells me it’s not too late. And the thing is that you don't have to decide anything right now. But hypothetically speaking, if you didn't have The Beef to take care of, and could do anything in the world, what would you do?”

“Well, If I could do anything, I'd stay in this bed, day, and night with you for a year.”

“Okay, let's say you've done that now. You wake up, get out of bed and where do you go?”

“I've always….” he pauses as the corner of his mouth pulls up.

“What? Tell me.” Her hand fists his hair without pulling.

“I've always wanted to buy a bike and drive across every state.”

“I could see you doing that.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Stop doing that. It's not an unattainable dream, Bear. You can do whatever you want.”

“Would you come with me if I asked you?”

“Hm, I don’t know… I’m not a huge fan of bikes. But I guess if I could follow along with my car and bring Coco with us, I’d go.”

“How about next summer?”

“Bring it on.”

“You know I’m joking, right?” He scoffs.

“I’m not. If you really wanna do that. Do it. What’s that thing you always say… Let one rip?”

“Let it rip,” he snorts and shakes his head, utterly amused by her way of messing up his motto.

“So, let it rip!”

“How? How do you walk away from everything?”

“You put one foot in front of the other and repeat.”

“Well, thank you for just describing walking, baby.”

“I’m serious, Michael. You take enough small steps and one day you’ll look back and won’t be able to see what you left behind.”

She holds his face firmly and dips to leave a small peck on his lips, then plants her forehead on top of his.

“I’d go anywhere with you. Would you?”

“Yeah, always.”

Michael’s palm slides along her jaw as his lips capture her mouth one more time. In this room, on this bed, he feels more safe and loved than ever before.

In the evening, Maya takes Michael to meet the contractor who comes into the house to survey the damage. After that, they swing by Natalie’s to check how Donna is doing.

Maya stays in the car. Her choice. She’s not ready to have another Berzatto reunion so soon.

She’s listening to the radio when all of a sudden a tap on the glass startles her. She glances to the side and finds Carmy motioning with his hand to roll down the window.

Sighting, she turns off the radio, as the glass slides down.

“Hey, can we talk?” His breath manifests in the air.

“I'm not in the mood for you to keep jabbing at me.”

“I wasn’t going to… I just…” he props his forearm on the roof of the car. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. You were right about… well, about almost everything. I have no right to tell you how to live your life and shouldn’t have talked to you that way. I still think it’s pretty weird that you’re dating my brother… but I guess I’ll have to get over it.”

Maya swallows, staring at her hands curling around the steering wheel. It feels forced to hear him say that so soon, but not completely dishonest. He’s making an effort, and she appreciates that.

“Thank you for saying that. I’m sorry that you had to find that way and that I called you a self-serving asshole that doesn’t care about anyone but himself. I know you cared about me… I just…”

“Hey, I get it. We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I don’t know… I couldn’t sleep last night and Sugar and I started talking, we were up for hours… I guess she knocked some sense into me.”

“Do you think we could ever be friends again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Could we pretend that we are just for five minutes? I need to ask you something.”

“I… I suppose we could. Can I get in? It's freezing out here.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Carmy goes around the car and hops into the passenger seat as Maya closes the window.

“What is it?”

“How's Copenhagen? Are you liking it there? Is it everything you ever dreamed of?”

“It's one of the best jobs I've ever had.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“I… I don't know what you want me to say… I guess I always thought I'd end up here with Michael… But I don't think he even wants me here anymore. Why are you asking me this?”

“God, he's going to kill me for telling you this… But hypothetically, what if he was in trouble and was too prideful to ask for help? What if he wanted to build that restaurant you dreamed of but wouldn't want you to give up your career for him? What if he was thinking of selling the shop but was too afraid of disappointing all of you?”

“Fuck, that's a lot of what ifs, Maya. Is that all true?”

“I can't tell you that, but if that were all true would you consider coming back?”

“You know better than anybody that all I wanted to do is work with him. If he asked, I'd be here in a second. But he's not going to ask, is he?”

“I don't think he's ready yet. I'm trying to help him as best as I can, but I feel like I'm not enough.”

“What do you think I could do if he doesn't want anyone's help… ”

“I don't know… he's too stubborn to ask for help. I'm just running out of ideas here… and he's looking at me like I have all the answers…”

“You think if I came back that'll change?”

“Maybe not, but if there's just a small chance that you were considering doing what you always wanted to do… if he saw that you weren't going anywhere, perhaps it’d point him in the right direction.”

“It takes guts to ask for help like that. And I'm not talking about him. I know you wouldn't be asking if it wasn't serious.”

“Yeah, like I said, if he knew I was telling you this…”

“I won't tell, if you don't.” He smiles softly.

“Thank you.”

“I'll think about it though.”

“Yeah? I'll keep trying too.”

As Carmy leaves the car, Michael comes out of the front door. They meet in the middle and Maya watches them quickly sharing some words before saying goodbye.

“Everything good here?” Asks Michael once he's taken his seat and closes the door.

“Yeah, we were just straightening some things up. I didn't want to tell you earlier, but we had an argument last night. It's all good now…” and she feels like an asshole for going behind his back, but if Michael is too proud or ashamed to ask for help, someone has to. She'd love to have all the answers laid out for him, but she has no idea what she's doing half of the time.

“He knows about us, does he?”

“Yeah, we weren't as careful as we wanted. Even Sugar saw. I mean… you even called me baby at the table. Don’t think anyone really noticed but… I guess it’s out now.”

“Does it freak you out that they know?”

“No. It was never about that. I just wanted to keep it just between us for a little longer.”

As they drive back home they toy with the idea of recreating the Christmas dinner they never go to have the previous night. They make a quick stop at a couple of places to gather some ingredients and scramble something together.

Michael has a lot of faults, but he's a natural in the kitchen. He feels right in his element when he's crafting a meal, especially when it’s for her. There’s no pressure laying on the counter, no bills to worry about, but the need to impress her makes him rise to the occasion.

After dinner, they exchange those gifts they put under the tree in her living room a couple of days ago. There’s a gift basket for Coco with toys, her favorite snacks, a blanket, and bathing products. While the dog is distracted with a chew on the rug, they sit on the couch to open theirs.

Maya’s gift to Michael is considerably bigger than what he got for her, which is a thin flat box as long as her palm.

“You want me to go first?” Asks Maya.

“Yeah, sure. Go on, baby.”

She’s kneeled by his side on the cushion, and he closely watches her hand unwrap the jewelry box that contains a dainty gold necklace with two twin pendants. Two small discs share an M etched on one side but are different on the back. One of them has the outline of a bear, and the other a dog paw.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, Mikey Bear.” Her free palm slides at his nape. “Thank you.”

“Thought you could wear this one,” he points at the one with the bear, “and I could take the other.”

“Yeah, that’d be perfect.” She inspects the pendants for a bit longer before sliding the one with the paw on it out the chain. “We’re kind of an institution now, like M&Ms.”

“Or Eminem.”

“For sure,” she laughs at the same time she clasps the chain around her neck. “Are you gonna open yours?”

Michael nods and extends his hand to open the big wrapped box waiting on the coffee table. In it there's a record player set with speakers and a couple of Otis Redding albums.

“You’re the best, you know that?” He holds his chin on top of his fist for a second, mesmerized by how much he adores her.

“Hm, I’ve been told.” She smugly slings her arm around his lower back as he inspects his new gift and starts setting all the components on. “Wasn’t sure if you liked Otis, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“Yeah, I dig it. Everyone loves the king of soul.”

Tucking her palm under the hem of his shirt, she kisses his shoulder, as he carefully slides one of the vinyls out of its sleeve before placing it on the platter.

“I haven’t used one of these in a while, let’s see if I remember…” he thinks for a beat, staring at the levels and buttons as he figures out how to set it up.

“You know, there are instructions on the box, right?” She playfully scratches his back.

“Don’t need instructions.”

“Typical male response,” she scoffs.

“Look, it’s done.” After settling the needle in position he hits the on button and stares at the record as it starts spinning. It rotates a couple of times before the first track comes out of the speakers.

Michael curls his arm around her, pulling her flush against his chest as they lean back on the couch. Maya drapes her legs on his lap, pillowing her head on his shoulder as the ever so beautiful melody of These Arms Of Mine plays on the speakers.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Maya tucks her hand in her jean's pocket to collect a keychain of a miniature motorcycle she got at the gas station earlier. “I also got you this when we stopped for gas. I didn't have time to get you a real bike in time but– what do you say, you wanna go on a road trip with me and Coco?”

“A Harley-Davidson? I don't think the three of us can fit here.” He dangles the keychain between his fingers. “But we'll see.”

Maya smiles against his shoulder as he kisses her head.

“Hey, can I tell you a secret?” His voice changes to a softer tone.

“Uh-huh.”

He knows this is far from perfect and that he's probably going to screw everything up at some point, but whether it's perfect or not, right here, in her arms, everything is like it's supposed to be.

“I love you, Maybird.”

She tilts her chin up so he can capture the glint of eyes. She doesn't say it right away, it takes her a couple of beats to build up the courage to say back…

“I love you too, Bear.”

The End.

#jon bernthal #michael berzatto #michael berzatto x ofc #michael berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #carmy berzatto #natalie berzatto #richie jerimovich #fanfiction #angst #smut #fluff #darlingwrites #salt of the earth

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merrybloomwrites · 5 days

Text

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 9- FINAL CHAPTER)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry and Y/N spend some time apart before reuniting just in time for Y/N's next heat.

Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8

Word count: 3.6K

CW: smut, knotting, p in v sex, heat cycle

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The plans for your time in Palm Springs are greatly altered due to your unexpected heat. Instead of hanging out with Harry’s friends, you’d been stuck inside a bedroom for over a day riding out the waves of your heat. And now that it’s over, you still don’t want to leave the house.

The day after your heat ended and Harry had joined you at the house again, you had constructed a nest. And now you want to stay wrapped in its safe walls with your alpha. It’s common for omegas to withdraw in the days after a heat, needing comfort and reassurances from their alpha. Harry is more than happy to provide, though you feel bad about keeping him locked up in the house with you. Each time you mention this he simply says, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He does encourage you to get fresh air, so you take some time to sit outside on the deck, soaking up the sun. It’s just warm enough in southern California that you’re comfortable in shorts and a t-shirt, which does brighten your mood.

But most of the time is still spent inside. The world seems too big at the moment, there are too many people, too many dangers. In your nest there’s nothing but warmth, and safety, and the ever-comforting scent of Harry.

He flies with you back to New Jersey and you're grateful. While you’re feeling better after a couple days of cuddling with Harry, an airport full of strangers would be a bit too much at the moment. He’s able to stay with you for two nights before he needs to leave and start getting everything ready for the next leg of tour. Before he leaves you build another nest in your home and he once again showers you with compliments about how lovely it is. You’re sad when you have to say goodbye, but he’s taken such good care of you that your omega is recovered by the time he’s gone.

You have a visit with your doctor the following week and discuss the heat you’d experienced. Luckily you don’t need to go into detail, just letting her know when it started and how long it lasted.

“That was a bit earlier than I’d estimated,” she says. “I was expecting the end of February. Is there anything that may have triggered it?”

You blush a deep red and reply, “I had just been knotted for the first time that morning.”

She gives you a reassuring smile and says, “That could definitely be the reason. I do have to ask, was this something you wanted or did the alpha force himself in any way?”

“Oh nothing like that! It was with my alpha, completely consensual. I was the one to bring it up.”

“Okay good. Well in that case, everything looks great. You should expect your next heat to be maybe mid-April or early May. This will be a full heat, so it’ll be longer and more intense than the other.”

“Right,” you reply, a tremor of nerves in your voice.

“There are some things we can do and prepare to make it easier if you’ll be solo during it.”

She hands you a pamphlet with some helpful tips and you sit quietly for a moment. Finally, you say, “I’m thinking of asking my alpha to spend it with me.”

“That sounds like a good plan, as long as that’s what you want. Make sure to talk about everything ahead of time alright? What you do and don’t want, any rules he needs to follow and ways he can take care of you.” She hands another pamphlet and says, “Here are some tips on how to prepare for a heat with an alpha. Yes, we have a pamphlet for everything,” she finishes and you both laugh.

“You mentioned he travels a lot, is he nearby now?” The doctor inquires.

“No, he's traveling at the moment. I probably won’t see him until April.”

“Okay, you may experience some touch deprivation symptoms again since you’re separated after a heat. Hopefully not too bad but just keep doing what you did back in the fall.”

“Got it,” you reply.

You talk a little while longer and finally you’re on your way home. You’re not thrilled that the depri might come back. The chills, exhaustion and itchiness are never fun. But hopefully this will be the last long separation you have from Harry.

There’s a lot you need to talk to Harry about, like spending your heat with you, and what your ideas for the future are, but you want to do that in person so it will have to wait until April.

It’s another long few weeks without Harry. The days are cold, and at first you’re not sure if it’s the touch deprivation that has you chilled to the bone, or just the wind constantly whistling outside.

But when it gets harder and harder to get out of bed, and headaches become a near daily thing, you have to admit the depri is back.

Harry checks in with a phone call or FaceTime at least once a day, and sends texts whenever he has a free moment. You know that he’s always there for you, but your omega doesn’t understand this. The lack of touch, lack of pheromones, just overall physical lack of an alpha after having him so close sends your inner omega back into a depression.

One week before you’re set to reunite with Harry he calls you just like normal. But it’s been an awful day for you. A couple of your coworkers had recently quit, leaving you with an insane workload for the following days. The milk in your fridge had expired, leaving you without your normal tea and cereal for breakfast. It was finally a nice day out but the chill in your body remains. And your headache is worse than ever, and has you practically seeing double.

All in all, you're at your breaking point. You’ve been hiding how bad it is from Harry, not wanting to add more stress to him while he’s in the middle of a run of concerts. But just because you don’t say anything doesn’t mean Harry hasn’t picked up on how you’re feeling.

A couple minutes into the call Harry says, “Is everything alright, love?”

“Yea, everything is fine,” you lie.

“Darling, please tell me what’s happening. My alpha’s been on edge for days and I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.”

Suddenly there’s a feeling of guilt eating at you. It takes only a second to realize it’s your omega cowering at the fact you’ve upset your alpha. You have no choice but to explain the situation, so you tell him how you’ve been feeling.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry you’re feeling badly again. I wish I was there to make it better,” he says once you’ve filled him in.

His kind words and gentle voice have tears springing to your eyes, but you quickly blink them back. Crying would only make the headache worse.

“It’s only a few more days, I’ll be okay,” you reply, annoyed at the shakiness in your voice.

The two of you talk a little longer and you’re truthfully feeling a bit better by the time you hang up. You spend the rest of the day working from your nest, the extra comfort helping as well.

That’s how you spend the next excruciatingly long week. When Harry finally knocks on your apartment door you open it immediately and slump into his outstretched arms. He somehow gets his bags inside, closes the door, and lifts you, carrying you to the couch.

He sits down and adjusts you so that you’re straddling his lap. Instincts lead you and you dive into his neck scenting him frantically.

“That’s it baby, I’m here. Take what you need, omega.” His words of encouragement help you settle, and soon you’re gently nosing along his scent gland. Once you have your fill you pull away, and Harry matches your shy smile with one of his own. He leans in next, kissing and licking along your neck to scent you in return.

Finally, you’re both satisfied and Harry moves to kiss your lips. You sigh against him, your entire being relieved now that you’re finally reunited with your alpha.

You spend a couple of quiet days together, Harry wanting to take it easy after weeks of touring on the other side of the world, and you recovering from the last of the touch deprivation symptoms. When you’re finally both feeling up to it, Harry makes reservations at a nice restaurant, wanting to take you on a date.

When you walk out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, Harry is standing there, looking absolutely stunning. You’re completely speechless looking at him, and he seems to be feeling the same as well.

He regains his senses first, walking closer to run his hands along your arms as he takes you in. “Darling, you look amazing,” he finally says.

You blush and reply, “Thank you. You look very dashing.” He smiles shyly at the compliment and then lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Shall we be on our way?” he asks.

“We shall,” you reply, feeling happier and lighter than ever.

The date confirms what you’ve been thinking for a while now. Harry is a perfect gentleman throughout, and the comfort and familiarity you feel in his presence is unmatched. Conversation never halts, and you’re as happy to listen to him as he is to listen to you. It’s a lovely mixture of lighthearted topics, with a couple more serious discussions thrown in.

After the last bite of dessert is finished, and the bill is settled, the two of you make your way out of the restaurant. You walk back home, enjoying the mild spring weather, Harry’s arm wrapped gently around your waist.

There’s a shift once you get back to your apartment. Both of your scents deepen, lust swirling in the air.

“Alpha,” you breathe out, turning so your lips ghost against his.

“Yes, omega?” he replies.

“Take me to bed?”

“Anything for you,” he says before immediately making good on his word.

The next morning you wake up once more cuddled next to Harry. He’s still sleeping, and you take the time to reflect on the night before. You’d done a lot of talking, and it seems that many of his desires and life plans line up with yours. That plus the undeniable connection between his alpha and your omega confirms that the two of you are right for each other.

You know you need to ask him about your upcoming heat, knowing that it could start within the next couple of weeks. You’re mulling over how to bring it up when he wakes up beside you.

“Good morning,” he says, his voice gruff from sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply. “How’d you sleep?”

“Wonderfully. Always do with you in my arms,” he answers.

He shifts so that he’s level with you and can press a kiss to your lips. You get lost in the moment, but there’s still so many thoughts swirling through your brain. Harry notices your hesitance and asks, “What’s wrong? What’s going on in your head, hm?”

You could lie and say it’s nothing, but he’s already opened the door for the conversation. After a moment to collect your thought, you state, “My heat should be starting soon. Maybe a week or so.”

He nods to show he’s listening, and you continue, “I was wondering if you’d want to spend it with me?”

“Baby I would love to. Is that what you want? Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I’m ready. And I would really prefer not to be alone. I want you with me.”

“Then I will be. I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll always take care of you, love.”

“Thank you,” you answer before bringing your lips to his again. It’s a sweet kiss, full of emotion and gratitude for this gentle and caring man.

Over the next week and a half, you and Harry plan for your first ever real heat. You look at the pamphlets, making sure to answer all the questions asked there, and filling in Harry on your preferences. You make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on foods you’ll both need. You blush when you see that Harry has also stocked up on condoms. While you both have said you want pups at some point, now is not the time.

One morning you wake up feeling extra clingy. You barely let Harry out of your sight. By early afternoon you’re turning on the air conditioning, claiming an early spring heat wave must’ve hit. Throughout dinner you’re itching with a desire to nest, which you begin to do the second you finish eating. It’s the first time you’re okay being away from Harry since you want to do this job on your own.

When it’s complete you find Harry as he’s finishing the dinner dishes. Without a word you take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

“Baby, it’s lovely,” he says when he sees the nest on the bed. “It’ll be perfect for your heat.”

“Do you think it’s coming soon?” you ask, looking for confirmation of what you’ve been questioning all afternoon.

“I do. Probably by morning, if your scent is anything to go by. How do you feel about it this time?”

“Still scared. But not as much as before. I don’t like that it’s going to be more intense and longer. But, you’re here so I think I’ll be okay.” You pause before correcting, “I know that I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, you will,” he says, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I promise to keep you safe, to take care of you however you need.”

“Can we take a shower?” you suddenly ask. Harry’s a little surprised by the ask, since you’d both already showered that day, but he agrees. He assumes that you want to make sure you’re both clean before entering the nest. It’s going to get dirty during your heat, but it’s important to start with a perfect nest to provide comfort.

After you’ve both washed you pull on boxers and an oversized t-shirt, the loose material the only thing that won’t irritate your sensitive skin. You climb into your nest, holding your hand to Harry in a silent invitation.

“Will you scent me?” you ask once he’s settled next to you.

“Of course, baby,” he replies before leaning in to fulfill your request. You fall asleep, wrapped in Harry’s arms and his delicious scent.

You don’t know what time you wake up, only that there’s no way you can fall back asleep even though it’s definitely still dark out. You’re burning hot, and there’s a feeling inside that you can’t describe. A desperate hunger, somehow mixing with a distinct emptiness. There’s a whining sound and it takes a moment for your fuzzy brain to realize it came from you.

The sound wakes Harry up, and he quickly springs into action.

“Hey baby, tell me what you need,” he says.

“Alpha. I need you alpha. Need your knot,” you reply. The little part of you that’s not fully under yet winces at how needy you sound, but soon Harry’s hands are on you and your mind goes quiet.

All you’re aware of is the feeling off his skin on yours. “Off, off,” you say repeatedly until Harry has removed your clothes as well as his.

“Please, alpha, I need you. Empty, so empty.”

“I’m here, omega. I’ve got you.”

You lay on your back, pulling your legs up towards your chest. It’s an exposed and vulnerable position, but one your inner omega knows will get you what you want. It works like a charm, and Harry wastes no time. His fingers reach you first and he growls at how much slick he finds.

Content with how wet and open you are, and moved by how intense your whimpers and begs are growing, he pulls on a condom and quickly lines up with your entrance. You sob in relief when he pushes inside, your hands moving to his back to hold him as close as possible.

As much as Harry normally goes slow with you, he knows that’s not what will help you. Maybe after a first knot he’ll be able to take his time, but right now he sets a quick pace in order to give you what you need.

Your voice reaches a higher pitch, alerting Harry to your impending orgasm. He moves a hand to your center, rubbing your clit to push you over the edge. The feeling of your walls contracting is enough to have Harry coming as well, emptying into the condom as his knot expends inside of you.

You both catch your breath and Harry smooths your hair out of your face.

“How was that, omega? Are you alright?” He checks in with you.

“Good, alpha, so good,” you mumble out, a blissed smile on your face.

“Rest, baby. I’ll be here to take care of you.”

With that, you close your eyes, succumbing fully to the haze of heat as your alpha licks at your neck, surrounding you with his scent.

Your heat lasts four full days, and when you wake up on that final morning you don’t know how to feel. Traces of desire still linger, but nowhere near the level it was at before. You’re aware of your need to use the bathroom, and shower, and eat. Your first thought is that you’re relieved that it’s over. Your second thought is that it really was not a bad experience. At all. Having Harry there took something you were dreading and made it into something so special and enjoyable.

The heat haze makes it so you can’t really remember the experience, but you can remember the feelings. And what you felt was pure love and contentment. There’s no hollow loneliness like the last time. Instead, there’s fulfillment, a sense that all is right in your world.

Harry turns, his lips subconsciously finding yours as he begins to wake up. You melt into the kiss, but he must notice a shift from the last couple of days. He pulls back to look into your eyes.

“Hi, baby. You with me?” he asks.

“I’m here.”

“How do you feel? Are you alright?” You can tell he’s worried so you’re quick to reassure him.

“I feel wonderful. You were perfect, alpha.”

You see the relief written on his face before he pulls you in for another kiss.

“As much as I’d love to stay in bed making out with you, I feel gross. And hungry.”

That’s all you have to say before he springs into action. The two of you take a quick shower together just to rinse off before he makes breakfast with all of your favorites.

Both of you are still quite sore, so you decide to soak together in the bath. Once it’s filled Harry helps you in before sliding in place behind you. The hot water feels heavenly, and the bubbles give it a nice relaxing touch.

You’re both quiet for the first few minutes, lost in your own thoughts.

“I should probably call my doctor,” you say, suddenly breaking the silence. “See if I can get an appointment before we leave for tour.” You feel yourself getting excited. In just a couple of weeks you’ll be going with Harry to Europe for all of his shows there.

“That’s a good idea. What are you going to do? Get new prescriptions?”

It’s a good question. Back in the fall when your old medicines stopped working you were devastated. All you could think about was surviving the few months until you could get new ones that will work again.

But now it’s different. You have an alpha. You have Harry. And the answer becomes less clear.

After thinking for a minute, you realize you know exactly what you want and you say, “I don’t think I will. At least not like before. I might get a low dose of suppressants to make sure my heats have a regular schedule. And most suppressants also double as birth control. But I don’t want to completely hide my omega anymore. I did it out of necessity, because those meds were the only thing that kept me healthy without an alpha. But that’s different now. Right?”

“Yes, love. It’s completely different now. You have me. You always will. And if you don’t want to go back on such strong medication then I support your decision. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you alpha,” you say, and he replies, “Always.”

***

With Harry’s full support, you walk into your doctor’s appointment a week later with a plan. She also supports your decision to do a much lower dose of suppressants. By the time you reach Denmark for the first show, you feel better than ever before.

As you watch Harry on stage you know that you made the right decision. Sure, there are plenty of obstacles to overcome, but you’re confident that you can do anything with Harry by your side.

And when you hear him sing Fine Line live for the first time, you know that everything truly will be alright.

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

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story! The main story is finished but I'm open to writing some extra oneshots so if you have requests let me know!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca@stylesfever@alwayslovingharry @daphnesutton @harrydeary

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction

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orchidyoonkook · 1 year

Text

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 4

Title: Sunday Nights and Lost Memories

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Yuri’s mad at you, you agreed to be friends with the prince and now it’s...movie night?

Warnings: PG18, fluff, swearing, touch of angst, banter, lots of texting!!, nothing too drastic, just them <3, mentions of nudes, reader eats cheese - up to you whether or not it's dairy cheese or not, same goes for the meat. I didn't specify if it's veg or animal based | * there is a part where JK lifts reader. For all you readers out there, big, little, small, tall, cute, beautiful, handsome, adorable, wonderful, perfect the way you are readers. I say my JK can lift you, okay? He’s strong and able enough to because I say so *

Word Count: 9062

Release Date: May 19, 2023, 8:00pm

A/N 1: she’s heeeereeee

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Three weeks.

Yuri’d given you the cold shoulder for the better part of three weeks.

And you’d let her, more impressed than anything she stuck to it. She’d never been mad at you for that long before and it made for a few awkward encounters—but it’s nothing you wouldn’t survive knowing what was coming.

Jungkook telling her to back off.

He’d asked you a few times, about ways to create some boundaries with her. Light ones, like not always walking with her on his arm or not discussing very personal topics such as grooming habits.

But no matter what you suggested, no matter what he tried or said, Yuri was always somehow able to make it into something else.

Every new ‘boundary’ of his became a way for him to keep her closer instead of pushing her away.

Not walking on his arm was his way of letting her keep her independence. Not discussing grooming habits was his way of keeping the spark and mystery alive.

You don’t know how she did it. How she kept doing it to herself, finding ways to spin things in her favour, completely ignoring the rationality and reality of the situation.

Therefore, you decided that it was just going to have to be a hard lesson she’d learn in time.

And in time did she ever.

When Jungkook finally did tell her outright, it was a last resort made after his several attempts at trying to convince her of their strictly platonic friendship, of trying to enforce his boundaries and be gentlemanly about the situation.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with this kind of behaviour from women.

But much to his regret, he was only able to tell her after she tried to kiss him.

One afternoon, they were sitting on a bench in one of the school's lesser traveled courtyards, a respectable distance apart from one another, sipping on coffee he’d offered to pay for.

He kept buying her coffees, kept occasionally complimenting her outfits, he was kind to her, and communicated his needs in their ‘relationship.’

It was the final nail in the coffin for her.

She’d been debating it for a while, wondering if she should make the first move or wait until he did, but she wasn’t completely sure he felt the same.

So, Yuri’d taken this final declaration of affection as the confirmation she needed, and leaned in.

Meanwhile, Jungkook didn’t think much of treating her. It had always been his way of saying thank you for all the help around campus. In fact he’d done it more than once, really hoping she could see how grateful he was to her.

She’d shown him the best places to eat and study in their building, showed him the fastest routes to his classes and the ones that would offer him the most privacy for him.

She introduced you to him.

He was grateful to her.

But then he saw her eyes closing, and puckered lips moving closer and closer and closer and—in a not very princely, but very Jungkook way—panicked.

He caught her shoulder with a hand to stop her advance and hoped that while doing so he was somehow wondrously mistaken and he was saving her from fainting or falling or literally anything else.

However, reality quickly derailed the nice thought.

It took a second for Yuri to register the hold was meant to halt rather than control, and opened her eyes, mortified.

No.

Worse. So much worse.

Horribly, stomach dropping, gut twisting, face heating, all-encompassingly embarrassing.

She just tried to kiss the prince.

She just tried to kiss the prince??!!

And he stopped her. Almost pushed her away because he was so against the idea.

She tried to kis—

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

No no no!

Fuck!

What the hell is wrong with her?! Why was she so stupid? She should have just listened to you.

Why didn’t she listen to you!!??

Jungkook felt horrible for Yuri as he watched her process her emotions. Felt angry with himself.

Horrible to have caused this and angry that he was unable to be honest with her about how he felt from the get go and save them both from this situation.

But he didn’t. And now he has to.

And she looks like she wants to be half way across campus right boss.

So Jungkook, as kindly as he could, informed Yuri that while he was incredibly thankful for all of her help with everything over the past month, he didn’t feel the same way she did. And that he was very sorry if he’d ever done anything to make her think he did. He truly didn’t mean to, and apologized again that the boundaries he tried to set weren’t clear enough to signal that to her.

And from the water that began to swim over her irises to her hands that shook as he spoke, he could see it went over about as well as he expected.

Meanwhile, Yuri’d never left a situation so quickly in her life.

Jacket thrown over an arm, half open purse hastily grabbed, Yuri’d scrambled to be literally anywhere that he wasn’t. The held back tears freeing themselves from the confines of her lashes as she went.

The second she was out of his sight you received a heads up text, informing that a very distraught Yuri was most likely on her way to you, to please be gentle with her, and that he was extremely sorry to have caused this.

Not two minutes later did a mascara stained Yuri burst through your shared door apologizing for being so stupid. Rambling on about how you were right and he didn’t want her. That she read all of his signs wrong and frantic over the thought that her dreams of their future were crushed.

You held her as she cried her heart out, verbally bashing the prince for ‘being an asshole’ and ‘leading her on.’ Allowing her to process and get all of her feelings out.

He didn’t lead her on and you knew that. And you’re pretty sure she knew it too. But you weren’t going to call her on it. Instead, you agreed with every word she said and offered up a few choice ones of your own. In particular, ‘that asshole doesn’t know what he had.’

Your comfort seemed to make her feel better and you were glad because wanted to support her. To let her know she could always come back to you no matter what. That friends are forever even if there are bumps in the road, and you’ll always be there for her.

She made a promise that night to never let a guy come between you two ever again.

That was a month ago, and little to her knowledge, your friendship with Jungkook is flourishing with every passing week.

After having a mini meltdown about the realization of what you agreed to, you rationalized, and decided you didn’t think saying yes would really amount to much. Fully expecting him to text you maybe once a week about something school related or send you funny pictures on social media every now and then—not that you followed one another.

But it hasn’t been anything like that at all.

He messages you everyday.

At first it was just random things, like a picture of a rabbit nibbling on some grass by the greenhouse one morning.

PJK [6:23am]: *see attached: 1 image* PJK [6:23am]: I’m gonna name him floppy, I’ve seen him out here like 3 times now

You don’t reply until your morning alarm goes off at 6:45am, finding the messages when you go to snooze it.

Eyes still heavy with sleep and half closed, you type out your reply.

You [6:45am]: Junfgkook itsnot eben sevem in teh morninf, what thefcuk are yiu doing up, let alione out

Jungkook snorts at your text.

PJK [6:47am]: okay so clearly someonnneees definitely not a morning person, Miss Typos. PJK [6:48am]: But to answer your question: morning workout followed by homework. I prefer to get both out of the way before the day starts. PJK [6:48am]: Plus I like the greenhouse in the morning, it opens early so I get breakfast and a nice view while getting to work in peace

You scoff with a quirked smile.

Of course.

You [6:50am]: Camt realte, I’ll be a mornig pesron once im outof bed, its teh period of time betwenn nowanf then taht im not

And that’s true. Once you’re up, you’re up. No caffeine or food needed. Your brain goes “up now? Okay.” But that little period of time between waking up and getting out of bed?

You’re a zombie.

Jungkook laughs to himself at your butchered words, sitting in his newly decided seat outside the cafe—the one next to yours—before replying.

PJK [6:51am]: noted. don’t message YN before 7am or fear her wrath

You drag a pillow over your head, groaning. Guess you’re ‘up’ now.

You [6:53am]: damn straight You [6:54am]: the bunny’s cute tho You [6:54am]: hi floppy

That’s how you learned that he’s a morning person.

Random texts aside?

Jungkook’s also genuinely trying to get to know you while letting you learn about him too, and you really weren’t expecting just how… normal he is.

PJK [4:28pm]: What’s your favourite drink?

You [4:30pm]: Like alcohol wise or in general? Cuz if in general its a 3 way tie between OJ, apple juice and fruit punch, but if it’s alcohol? You [4:31pm]: I like wine I guess, the fruity kind. Dont really care what brand, but I also dont drink all that often so make of that what you will

PJK [4:32pm]: I meant in general but I’ll take that answer too. Mines milk or beer PJK [4:33pm]: wine’s delicious though. And a 3way tie between juices? I worry for your sugar intake

You [4:34pm]: haha. my sugar intake’s just fine thanks

PJK [4:35pm]: lol.

A weird quirk of yours is that you never use ‘lol’. Something deep inside you just hates it, maybe because of how overused it is. You’ve always used a version of ‘haha’ or ‘hehe’ or one of the various laughing emoticons. But naturally, when he found out about this little aversion, Jungkook seemed to use it more and more around you just to get a rise.

PJK [4:35pm]: whatever you say, Rembrandt

A smile finds your lips at that.

You don’t know how it started really, but sometime between that Monday in September and now, halfway through October, Jungkook started to refer to you almost exclusively by a number of old artist themed nicknames.

And they have, so far, never once been repeated. You're starting to wonder if he searches up new ones because of how many he’s donned you without duplication.

Ding.

PJK [4:49pm]: what are we feeling for Sunday? Action? Thriller? Mystery? What’s on the menu? Is there a dress code?

Another tradition that’s somehow worked its way into your life; Sunday movie nights at Jungkook’s.

He lives in a single dorm so you never have to worry about prying eyes or noisy roommates. Plus he always has the best snacks so you can never say no.

And, well…You love them.

You love having dedicated time to relaxing and being social in an environment where you feel safe and not overwhelmed. Where you feel comfortable getting out of your academic head for a few hours with someone you’re learning to trust and know, whose company you genuinely enjoy.

They’re something you didn’t know you needed so badly until they became routine. Three to five hours a week of nothing but relaxing and fun. A break from the chaos your life has always been.

No painting or drawing or studying or catching up on anything you’re behind on. No preparing yourself for the next day's lessons or keeping up with your practice schedule.

Just a few blissful hours of complete peaceful nothing where your brain can turn to mush before coming back stronger than before. Like a caterpillar needs to do in order to become a butterfly.

You tell Yuri you’re doing individual studies in the school during them. And in true Yuri fashion, says; “Only crazy people study all night before the week starts up again, but you do you Sweets,” or something along those lines every time.

She knows not to get in your way when it comes to your academics, and does her best to support you from afar.

It makes the night that much sweeter knowing you won’t be interrupted.

But right now, it’s barely Wednesday evening. You haven’t thought that far ahead yet. And for good reason.

You [4:55pm]: all I ask is a comfy dress code please, like PJ level comfy and no horror movies. I’m going to be so dead this weekend. Expect no makeup and minimal effort

You have an early mid-term on Friday, and already know you’re going to be so wiped for the days following. Your study habits aren’t exactly healthy, but they work, and that’s all you care about.

Who needs sleep or food when you’re top of your class and have a scholarship to keep from the top university in the nation?

PJK [4:57pm]: so what I’m hearing is I get free reign over choice of movie and snacks as long as I follow the two requests of casual wear and nothing scary?

You [4:59pm]: well considering that you always eat 90% of the snacks and whine until we settle on a movie you like then talk through anyways? You [4:59pm]: sure

He ignores your playful jab, and instead tries out one of his own. To see if you’ll budge.

He’s been testing the limits of your humor lately, to see if yours and his match up at all.

PJK [5:01pm]: But what if I sleep naked and have no Pj’s? Hmmm?? What would you do then???

You [5:01pm] take pictures and sell them to the highest bidder. You [5:02pm] How much do you think I could get for leaking the first pictures of the prince's dick to the public?

You think twice after sending that message, maybe a bit too bold.

But he takes it in stride, is a little proud even.

Not many would speak to him that bluntly, especially not with a ‘threat’. It seems your senses of humor line up quite well.

PJK [5:02pm]: ok damn. I have PJ’s, no need to go there so quickly. lol PJK [5:03pm]: i don’t need my dick on the cover of every news outlet thanks. my dad would literally kill me

It makes you snort how he refers to the king as his dad. Because on one hand, yeah. But on the other, it seems like such a mundane title for the most powerful man within 5000 miles in any direction. The monarch. The one who can command armies with the flick of an eyebrow or quirk of the finger.

You [5:03pm]: you literally asked for it.

Also, how in the fuck did you manage to get yourself into talking about the princes dick? That’s definitely not a safe topic by any means.

And yet… it didn’t stop you from doing so.

Stupid brain always needing to win.

PJK [5:04pm]: yeah… guess I did. Allow me to make up for it: PJK [5:04pm]: you can ask for one snack and I will guarantee its presence on Sunday

You [5:05pm]: ahhhh. i love your princely power sometimes. being able to ~guarantee~ me anything my heart desires. You [5:05pm]: A true friend indeed.

Jungkook laughs at that.

You [5:07pm]: blue raspberry sour drops, the small ones

PJK [5:09pm]: done. PJK [5:09pm]: see you at mine then? with Pj’s on, of course.

You [5:10pm]: yeah, sounds good

But you add in, simply because you cannot help but drive the point home.

You [5:10pm]: and shame, I was really looking forward to the payday your nudes could get me. multiple zeros, meet my bank account

He doesn’t deign you with a response, but you know he saw the joke in your words.

He always does.

You put your phone down to get back to studying, but a memory of Yuri saying she was going out Sunday night pops into your head. Something about a duke asking her out but he was only able to go out on a Sunday night due to his schedule.

She, being Yuri, obviously jumped at the chance, thrilled to put the embarrassment of the Jungkook incident far, far, far behind her.

“And don’t wait up for me, I don’t plan on coming home until the morning,” she told you with a wink.

You held up your hand, and she smacked it.

“Go get’em tiger,” you encouraged in what you hoped was your most suave voice. But you cracked a giant grin before you could finish and you both broke out laughing.

With that thought in mind, you grab your phone again.

You [5:15pm]: oh wait actually You [5:15pm]: up to you, but Yuri’s gunna be gone Sunday night if you wanna finally check out casa de Rembrandt You [5:16pm]: seeing as you’ve been asking for literally forever

More like two weeks, but what’s the point of being accurate when you can be dramatic. Plus, it would be safe with no Yuri. You were on the first floor, quick and easy to get to without anyone seeing.

You [5:17pm]: gotta come in incognito mode tho, cant have that famous mug of yours filling up my security cameras

You don’t want to even imagine what would happen if security found out that the prince was entering the girls dorm.

Front page news on every gossip magazine to start.

Maybe you shouldn’t hav—Ding.

PJK [5:20pm]: absolutely 100% yes. I’ve been dying to raid your fridge of all things boring and unhealthy. I swear your diet only consists of bread, hot chocolate, cheese and egg tarts. PJK [5:20pm} And juice. Way too much juice.

You [5:21pm]: hey you leave my juice out of this Jeon. Not everyone can have a personal chef and nutritionist 😅

You don’t know that Jungkook doesn’t have either of those. That he cooks everything he eats himself.

Hey—Everyone’s gotta have hobbies. And half his friends back home are the sons of palace chefs.

You learn things when you hang out in kitchen’s all day.

PJK [5:22pm]: no one should be able to survive off of what you do, so I’ll go after your insane juice habits if I want to PJK [5:22pm]: lol

You roll your eyes. This isn’t the first, nor will it be the last time he’s going to bug you about this.

You [5:23pm]: Thin ice, Jeon. Thin fucking ice. You [5:23pm]: In fact, I think the only thing that will thicken it again is the addition of chocolate at movie night on your dime

PJK [5:24pm]: we’ll see about that, Cézanne. We’ll see.

Friday comes and goes way too quickly, and you were right. Your study habits are insane—but they always pay off. You knew every single answer on your mid-term and have no doubt you’ll pass with flying colours.

And just like you were right about that you were also right about being totally wiped for the following days. All that build up had to come crashing down at some point.

It’s finally Sunday evening and Yuri’s about to leave for her date, currently busy applying mascara in your shared washroom.

She already knows you’re going to skip your regularly scheduled “Sunday night study session” in favour of a night in with your bed, a movie and junkfood.

Not a lie, you tell yourself, just not the whole truth.

Not a lie, not a lie, not a lie.

“I’m glad you're finally listening to your body and resting, Sweets. Gods know you work too hard in the first place,” she says, sliding the mascara wand back into the tube and doing final checks in the mirror. “A night in will do you some good. You look exhausted.”

She’s wearing a tight little black dress and matching heels with red bottoms. Her hair’s up in an intentionally messy updo, with a smokey eye, and a lipstick that matches the soles of her shoes perfectly.

In short, she looks hot.

“I feel exhausted,” you admit, leaning against the dining room table. You’re wearing a tank and pj pants paired with your favourite bunny slippers. “But I aced that exam soooo… worth it. You have fun though! And go get that dick yeah? Let me live vicariously through you, considering mine lives on the other side of the planet right now.”

The sad smile she begins to give you gets replaced by a wider, much more mischievous one, “I’ll be sure to fill you in on every detail. I need to know your opinions, you’re clearly better at this whole thing—five year relationship still going strong and all. I need to know if this one’s a keeper.”

“First opinion: if he can’t find the clit, dump him.”

She gives you a look. “That one’s obvious, YN. I’m not completely hopeless.”

You plaster your face with her mischievous grin from earlier and mutter, “could’ve fooled me,” under your breath.

You’re met with a towel to the face as you laugh. Removing it from its current rental space on your face, you place it on the back of a chair and continue to mock, eyes catching on the clock in your room while doing so.

“Aren’t you going to be late? It’s like 6:15.”

“Shit! Yes. Thank you,” she says, grabbing her handbag off the door handle and stuffing it with makeup and condoms. She knows better than to trust the guy to have them.

Shuffling out, she takes her jacket off the coat hooks by the door and puts it on.

“Okay byeeeeeee, don’t wait up, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon and let you in on all things dirty!”

You wave goodbye. “I’m looking forward to it, be safe!”

“Always am,” she says as she closes the door, and you go back to your room once it clicks shut.

You’d spent the afternoon tidying, not that you were messy, but you were raised to clean before company came over because apparently you can’t have people knowing you actually live in your place of residence.

Stupid made up rule. But it’s ingrained into you at this point.

Plopping down on your bed, you scroll through your phone waiting on a text from Jungkook to signal his arrival. But before one ever comes, a knock sounds at your door.

It’s probably Yuri. She forgets her keys all the time and no matter how much you hound her for it, the problem never seems to resolve.

Getting up, you don’t hold back your scolding, “Yuri how many times have I told you to just keep your damn keys in your ba—oh,” shock cutting you off as you open the door.

Jungkook’s standing in your entryway wearing flannel PJ pants and white tee under his normal hat, mask and jacket combo.

He looks so completely different to what you’re used to seeing on TV, in magazines and on campus.

No formal wear or designer labels. Just a loose shift and brandless pants.

So normal. Like anyone else.

You think you’d be used to it after a month and half. But you’re still slightly jarred every time you see him so ordinarily dressed.

And as much as you practice what you preach about not giving a shit about his social status, there’s always that underlying expectation of what and how a prince is supposed to look. Regal, royal, not like an entirely regular university student.

He looks comfortable, and his arms are full of plastic bags that likely hold the snacks he promised for tonight.

And while you’re taking him in, you don’t see him staring at you, unable to speak.

He’s looking at you, at your cute shirt and pants, at the most adorable pair of slippers he’s ever seen. But also at your nervous expression, and how tired you seem.

You break the silence, moving past him to peek down the hallway.

“Hey, I thought you were going to text me you were here so I could come get you. Did Yuri see you? She just left,” you ramble, happy to see it’s empty before moving out of the way to let him in.

“Nice pajamas,” is all he manages.

You look down at his compliment, eyeing your slippers. Yikes… That's only slightly embarrassing. “Uh… thanks.”

Your confusion snaps him out of his daze.

“I saw Yuri on my way in, but she didn’t recognize me, don’t worry.”

“Oh that’s good. No text though? You didn’t get lost trying to get here?”

“Hands were full,” he says, lifting his arms. “Plus you’re on the first floor and your building isn’t that hard to navigate. It has signs and I have eyes. I worked it out.”

Closing the door, you turn to help with the bags but immediately pause.

Oh.

You didn’t think prior to his arrival about just how much space he was going to take up in your dorm.

Jungkook’s place is bigger than yours, it feels comfortably large. Has more than enough room to go around.

And your dorm isn’t tiny by any means—when it’s just you and Yuri.

It has two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchenette, a dining room. Lots of room for you two.

But Jungkook, he’s…very large. He takes up a lot of space you aren’t used to having filled.

And you know that, you have to remind yourself. You know he’s taller than you by a good couple inches and that he works out regularly.

You know he isn’t small by any definition of the word.

So why does it still bring such a surprise to have him take up so much of your space.

Gulp.

“Eyes and signs are convenient like that I guess,” you respond dumbly, looking to your room where movie night will be held.

It’s even smaller than the dining space.

You really really didn’t think this through.

“Where can I put these?” he asks, holding up his bag clad arms.

“In there,” you gesture to the room that’s starting to leech the air from your lungs despite the fact you aren’t even occupying it yet.

Jungkook takes his shoes off by the door and heads to your room. He has to turn sideways to get through your door with all of his bags.

“Did you have to buy the whole store?”

“Yes.”

You scoff but follow. He steps between the two bean bag chairs at the side of the bed, and firstly sets the bags down on the floor in front of them before secondly shedding himself of his disguise, leaving the mask and hat on your desk, his jacket on the neatly tucked in desk chair.

And with its removal, tattoos you’re not used to seeing are now on full display as what you thought was a t-shirt is actually a muscle shirt.

His forearm and bicep are covered, the ink continuing to crawl up and over his shoulder and under his shirt.

There’s barely a patch of untouched skin left.

And you try not to stare. You really do, even though all you want to do is stare. Up close. Too close. For hours.

You want to study every line and bit of shading. Every colour gradient and scrawl of text. Every design and hidden meaning.

Damn your love of art.

Reaching into the discarded bags, he pulls out three bags of chips, far too many drinks, two packs of candy—one of which is a massive pack of blue raspberry sour drops—two chocolate bars, and to your surprise, some fruit and vegetable trays and a charcuterie board.

You raise an eyebrow at those last three as your movie nights have almost always exclusively had shitty junk food. Jungkook notices your quizzical expression instantly.

He’s been noticing a lot about you lately.

“Gotta make sure you eat more than junk, your body needs healthy foods too you know.”

“I see cheese, so I am content.”

“Michelangelo, I swear to god if all you eat is the candy, chocolate and cheese I will hire you a personal chef to make sure you eat better. And yes that is a threat.”

He’s setting everything out on your twin bed so you’re both able to reach back to grab what you want, pointing as he lists, “There’s strawberries, tangerine slices, grapes, peaches, bean sprouts, carrots, cucumbers, radish, sesame dip, seaweed, kimchi, meat and crackers here on top of the cheese and junk food. All pre-made and ready to go. So you better shove them in your mouth and thank me later.”

You raise your hands in defeat. He wasn’t mean or rude in his tone, clearly just passionate about healthy eating. And since it’s all here and free and will make him happy, who are you to deny him?

Though that doesn’t mean you’ll accept without giving him a hard time about it.

“Alright, alright your majesty, I concede, your wish is my command.”

He gives you a look you wholly ignore as you head to the computer you have set up on a little stand in front of the bean bag chairs. Not nearly as nice as the couch and flatscreen at Jungkook's place, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“What am I cuing up?”

He tells you the movie he’s selected for the night, and you’re not surprised. It’s an action thriller, something with car chases and explosions. You’re too tired to argue, so you don’t, instead clicking into your streaming app and loading the movie.

“Plates?” he asks, not paying attention to if you're listening or not, still busy setting the food up.

Yeah, you guess plates could be useful. And maybe cups too.

By the time you return from the kitchen with two plates, two bowls, some cutlery and cups, Jungkook’s already settled into the chair on the right; himself and the food ready to go.

Flicking the lights off on the way to your seat, you give him his share of dishes, and both of you fill them as much as you can.

Yours is stacked with a bit of everything, to which Jungkook gives a nod that you know means ‘good.’

A single butterfly flaps its wings in your stomach.

Leaning forward, you hit the space button to play, and grab a bite of cured meat with a cracker and cheese.

—Oh! Wait, that's actually really yummy.

Munching away, you credit him for making it past the title sequence before starting to talk. It’s further than you usually get.

“How was your exam?” he asks, mouth half full of chips but that never seems to stop him.

For someone raised in a palace you thought he’d have more manners drilled into him.

You don’t mind though, when he was like this it was easier to forget he was the second most important person on the continent.

“Great,” you answer, another small piece of cheese making its way to your belly. “Nailed it actually, just waiting on the professor to confirm.”

Jungkook’s subtly watching you eat from the corner of his eye while you pretend to focus on the movie. You haven't touched any of the fruit or vegetables on your plate. Slightly perturbed, he replies, “That’s great Botticelli, you’ll have to teach me your study methods one day. It’s getting harder and harder to keep up.”

“You couldn’t handle my methods,” you joke. But if you really thought about it, he was probably one of the only people that could.

You can’t imagine the pressure and discipline he put on himself growing up, let alone what his father put from the little he’s told you about him.

“You know, I think you’re right,” he says, still observing because most of the cheese and chocolate are gone while the healthy foods remain untouched.

—But that’s because you liked eating cheese and chocolate together! They complement one another on your palette. You’ll get to the fruits and vegetables… eventually.

He continues, “But it was worth a shot.”

You hum, finishing your mouthful of cheesy-chocolatey goodness, and go to grab another, but he picks up a baby carrot from his plate and places it at your lips.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Open,” he says firmly.

Jungkook really wasn’t kidding with all the healthy food talk, or maybe he just doesn’t want his money to go to waste. It isn’t like you weren’t going to eat it.

But you do as instructed, teeth gently taking the carrot from his fingers. A very satisfying crunch sounding from your bite.

His eyes linger for a second before going back to watching the movie, as if he didn’t just feed you.

There’s a feeling in your stomach you don’t want to recognize, so you push it down, and decide not to unintentionally provoke him again by beginning to eat the healthy foods on your plate. Abandoning the rest of your cheese, chocolate and blue raspberry drops.

For now.

Your phone dings from its place on your thigh, a notification from Nel popping up.

Nelly <3 [7:10pm]: hey babe, just got my ticket. I’ll see you in a few 😘

A smile plasters its way to your face immediately, cheeks almost hurting from how wide.

Nel comes over every fall reading week. You look forward to it every single year.

You [7:11pm]: I’ll see you in a few Smoosh, I love you❤️

Nelly <3 [7:11pm]: love you too x Nelly <3 [7:12pm]: what’re you up too?

You [7:15pm]: movie night with snacks

Not a lie. Not a lie. Not a lie.

Nelly <3 [7:15pm]: Yuri with you?

You [7:16pm]: nope, she’s on a date

Nelly <3 [7:16pm]: ah, hope that goes well for her Nelly <3 [7:16pm]: I won’t bug anymore though. enjoy your movie

You [7:17pm]: thanks baby, I will ❤️

It only burns a little bit to omit the fact that you have another man in your room. That while no, Yuri isn’t with you, someone else is. Not that you aren’t allowed to have guy friends, half your friends back home are, and Nel doesn’t care, he trusts you.

Also, it’s not like anything will ever happen. You two are friends and you’re quite content in your relationship.

It just feels a little too much like lying—But it’s not.

And keeping it a secret was your decision. You have to stick with it.

“Who beckons?” Jungkook asks, eyes on the screen. A car chase currently capturing his attention.

“Just Nel letting me know he got his ticket for fall break,” a strawberry meets your tongue, mmm. “I’m so excited to have him for a whole eight days.”

It’d taken you a minute to tell Jungkook about Nel, primarily because the topic never really came up and because you thought going “Oh by the way I have a boyfriend” randomly might’ve made Jungkook think you thought he was trying to flirt or get with you, even though you knew that wasn’t the case. It was just an awkward situation you didn’t know how to properly approach.

But conveniently, just as he got your number in the first place, Jungkook saw ‘Nelly <3’ pop up on your phone screen one day while you were at the greenhouse.

“Hey, YN, you have a text from a ‘Nelly heart emoticon’?” He calls to you.

You were walking out of the cafe, hot chocolate with mini marshmallows in hand. “Oh, that’s Nel, well, Cornelius, but he hates his full name so I just call him Nel. He’s my boyfriend.”

You swear Jungkook stiffens at the word boyfriend, but it’s such a small change you can't tell if it actually happened or if you imagined it. You decide it was the latter as his reply is normal.

Well…normal for him at least.

“Boyfriend, hmmmm? Since when? You never told me about a boyfriend. Would I approve? Does he treat you well? He showers right? Some guys say they do and then wear too much cologne to cover up the fact that they don’t,” Jungkook’s leaning in now, like a detective conducting an interview. His only tell that he’s joking, a quirked lip. His eyes on the other hand…

You indulge him. “Since the end of 10th grade, I never told because you never asked, I think you two would get along actually, and yes he does. To both.”

Jungkook stares, squinting at—no—into you. Trying to decide if you’re lying about that last part. “Damn,” and you thought you detected a hint of defeat in his voice. But if there was, he recovered fast.

“That’s a long time, I’m glad you’re with someone who treats you well, and showers,” honing in on you again, he looks like he’s mentally deciding something, then nods. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”

“But I’m not sorry?”

“You’re still forgiven.”

Back in the present, Jungkook asks with wider eyes than normal, “Does that mean I won’t see or hear from you for a week?”

Jungkook isn’t leaving campus for fall break. His family will be in another country then—a regularly scheduled trip from the middle of October to the second week of November. This is the first year he won’t be going.

“Uhm.. yeah probably. I only get to see Nel in the summer, a day during Solstice break if I’m lucky, and fall reading week, so I try to maximize my time when I’m with him.”

You and Nel are both always too busy to do anything for the spring reading week because you’re trying to wrap up your school years. Nel is only able to come your way during the fall because he isn’t at his school on scholarship, and doesn’t rely on being a top student to be there. Though he’s still brilliant.

He’s studying architecture at the Eastern College of Architecture and Design and is proudly ranked somewhere in the middle to higher area of his class.

Unfortunately, his program also requires him to stay longer during the Solstice break, so anytime he does have during it, he wants to spend with his family—which you understand. Solstice is important to your mother too, so it works out that you spend that time with her.

Therefore, summer and fall break are your favourite times of the year. Your Nel Time.

Long distance is hard, and you plan out this week with Nel in the summer to maximize every second you have with him.

Every single precious second.

“Oh… okay,” Jungkook looks back to the movie, focusing hard on the explosions. But pipes up again after a minute. “What about your study times? I thought you mentioned a while ago that you always study through breaks.”

“I do. We do. Nel studies with me, we go to the greenhouse cafe or the library or wherever. He understands that my education has to come first for now. He’s always said my dedication to my future was one of the first things that attracted him to me in the first place.”

You're smiling again, recalling the memory.

You and Nel met at an art show your high school put on; you displaying your paintings and him his architectural drawings. Barely sixteen and seventeen back then.

You were making the rounds, looking at all the other pieces submitted by students, when his drawings caught your eye.

They were of a very futuristic looking house that was built into the side of a mountain. It was made of glass, wood and a dark material you didn’t know the name of.

It was beautiful. You wanted to live somewhere like that someday.

He saw you staring and struck up a conversation, complimenting your work when he asked if you were in the gallery too and you pointed your section out to him.

That night he asked for your number, and here you were, five years later at twenty-one and twenty-two.

Nel being older by a year.

That was something else you’d noticed a while ago too; that you almost always had older guys around compared to younger.

You guessed something in you subconsciously preferred that. Not having the energy to deal with the hormone induced insanity younger guys tend to have. All of them more than happy to prove themselves the biggest asshole in the room.

Nor did you like the odors and cockiness that oozed from them. Jungkook had a point about guys showering habits.

Older guys always seemed more mature, not in a literal sense, you know most men are children when given the right topic. It was more of a they didn't care what people thought, they were more polite, knew what they wanted and what personal hygiene was.

Though once you were considered ‘one of the guys’ that last one changed really quickly. They just got better at hiding it. Again, Jungkook had a point.

But…well, Nel was older, and Hobi—one of your best friends from back home—was older by a few years too. Most if not all of your guy friends from school were, not one from your grade ever making their way into your social circle.

Even Jungkook’s older by three years. Having turned twenty four about a week before you met him.

The twenty four year old in question has the smallest pout when he asks, “Does that mean I can’t go to the greenhouse for a week?”

You’re quick to clarify. “No, you can do whatever you like. But if I see you, I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you. It’s easier for everyone that way.” You yawn, the repercussions of your actions from earlier in the week coming back in full force. You’re only a half hour or so into the movie. “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook is silent for a minute, in what you assume to be a processing moment. Then,

“When do I get you back?”

Odd phrasing, but you’re one of his only friends on campus, so it makes sense that not speaking or seeing you for a week may feel like you’re being ‘taken away.’

“Nel leaves the following Sunday night, so I’ll have to miss movie night twice—sorry again. Maybe you can use that freed up time for yourself and just relax? Midterms are coming up and you don’t want to burn yourself out. Or maybe you could ask some other friends over those nights?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you he hasn't made any other friends yet. That even after almost two months, you‘re still the only person he’s met that treats him how he’d requested on his first day. The only person he enjoys being around.

Everyone else still looks at him and only sees opportunity for them.

Not him.

Nobody ever saw him.

He didn’t know that being out on his own for the first time would be so isolating. Lonely.

He’d gotten used to having people who were used to him being around them. Whether they were his security—who aren’t scared to make jokes at his expense, having seen him as a teenager and growing up—but they’re here to do a job, not hang out. Or the couple of servants kids he’d grown up with who he considers his true friends.

People he didn’t have to hide around. Wear the mask of ‘prince’ around.

But they were back home at the palace. He doesn’t have them here.

He’d been looking forward to university for almost five years, to have his first and last taste of freedom before signing his life away to kingdom and crown. And he isn’t upset with his experience so far, but at the same time, Jungkook feels like he’s missing out.

Making lifetime friends is supposed to be a part of the experience, isn't it?

He’d made a few predictions about how his university experience would go prior to actually being here. So far, the only things he’s gotten right was where his grades sat, his love for what he was studying and, regrettably, the fact that no one could get over the stupid word that’s been in front of his name since birth. The one that separates him from everyone else.

A small part of him foolishly hoped it wouldn't change anything.

But it did, because it always does, because everyone cares. Everyone wants something from him.

Everyone except you.

You don’t care that he’s The Prince. You call him on his shit, and threaten to send his fictional nudes to media outlets for a laugh. You let him borrow you for some of his homework assignments when he needs a model, and he tries to return the favour whenever you need one for a figure study.

You buy his coffee when you get to the cafe before him, even though he knows you know he doesn’t need you too. Even when he has all the money in the world, and you’re on a tight budget.

But you know his coffee order, and you are kind.

You’re kind to him because you want to be and not because you think it will get you something from him.

You’re kind because it is innate to you. Because you’re different from most people, unintentionally so. You’re not kind to gain recognition or to stand out.

You see the world around you and feel inspired to create beautiful things, both on and off the canvas.

In life and in feelings and friendships.

So you are the only one he’s befriended. And that’s been enough for him.

You’re enough.

But you’re not his. You’re someone else’s.

Someone who was smart enough to get to you first.

He can’t have you. He’ll never come first.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll have a guys night,” he brushes off with a white lie. The first he’s ever told you. And a part of him hates himself for it.

He’s come to love movie night too. And to miss one, let alone two feels…wrong.

He likes having a tradition of his own making. One that doesn’t come from anything calendar related or of his family’s making. One that he doesn’t ever want to give up.

He likes spending that time with you.

You, snuggled up in too many blankets on his couch, or resting into the bean bag chairs on your floor, munching away and watching whatever movie. Talking about nothing and everything all night.

Laughing together. Joking together. Being present together and simply enjoying one another’s company.

But Jungkook understands that Nel comes first.

Jungkook understands that it would be selfish of him to expect you to spend some of your only time that you get with Nel, with him instead.

Because Nel is your boyfriend, and Jungkook is just your…friend.

“Thanks for understanding Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

Jungkook looks at you when the movie ends.

You’re sleeping.

Silently in your bean bag chair, your head leaning to the side, mouth open a little.

He doesn’t know when you fell asleep.

Conversation dwindled after your text from Nel, and he’d focused mostly on the movie after that to distract himself.

He sees your plate is empty of all foods, healthy and unhealthy alike, and a side-mouthed smile lifts his cheek.

You’d listened to him.

For once.

You look so peaceful, like you’re dreaming.

He hopes it’s a good dream.

You warned him that your study habits before exams aren’t the healthiest but that they worked, and that you just needed a bit of recovery time afterward. He knew you were tired the second you opened the door in the cutest pajamas and bunny slippers he’s ever seen.

But there were dark circles under your eyes, and he could see your energy levels weren’t the same as they usually were.

That’s why he brought the fruit and vegetable trays and charcuterie board. He had a feeling you needed to get some real food into you to help with your current state. That it would bring some nourishment back into your body, help you feel better.

And by the looks of the quiet, rhythmic breaths leaving you, they did their job. Your dark circles disappearing, cheeks regaining some colour.

He thinks about waking you for a second, before deciding against it. He doesn’t want to disturb you finally getting the rest you so clearly need.

Instead, he gets up from his seat and moves the remaining food to the ground, pulls the blankets of your bed back and gently slides his arms under your knees and back, lifting.

In your semi-unconscious state from being moved, you slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle your head into the junction where his shoulder meets his neck.

Jungkook’s heart thumps, and for reasons he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to uncover, stands just a second longer with you in his arms, as you clutch yourself to him.

Your skin under his fingertips, and lips resting near his neck.

Warm.

He takes a small breath before placing you down on your bed with the utmost care, and tucking you in.

There’s a fleeting thought of lips meeting forehead, but it’s gone before it ever arrives.

Jungkook turns to shut down the computer, then plugs your phone into its charger on your night stand and gathers the leftover food and drinks. He brings them to your kitchen and puts them away neatly into your fridge.

While doing so he notices all of the juices on the shelf and has to hold back a laugh.

You really weren’t kidding.

Silently retrieving his hat, mask and jacket silently from your room, Jungkook’s mind is reeling as he takes one last look at your sleeping form, before slipping from your room and sliding his shoes on by the door.

He exits your building, entering into the cool night with three things unable to leave his mind.

1. The feeling of your arms around his neck, holding tightly. Refusing to let go.

2. Your hair smells like apples. Sweet ones. The ones that the castle's orchard produces for his family only. Like a piece of home.

And,

3. That in order to save whatever this friendship you two have is, he’s going to have to listen to his father’s only advice before sending him off to university. A piece of advice he never intended on listening to, until now.

To save this before he ruined it.

“While you’re at that school you need to look for a future wife. You’re going to be 24 soon enough, and you’ll be 28 by the time that you finish. The Royal Academy has all of your generation's most eligible women. Find the best one, and pick her. She’d be a fool to say no.

“And If you want my opinion,” Jungkook doesn’t but he knows his father is going to tell him whether he wants to know or not, “There’s a girl there named Adaline Dupree, she’s twenty-one, from a well bred family, of high social standing, and beautiful. She’s been on my radar for potential matches for you since you were young.

“Start with her.”

Jungkook gulps, getting into the black sedan that’s waiting for him outside.

You wake up in your bed.

You wake up in your bed?

How did you get in your bed? Weren’t you just—?

You look for your phone, and in your search see that the computer is closed, your phone is plugged in and that the food and Jungkook are gone.

Fuck.

Did you fall asleep during the movie?

You can’t remember.

Fuck!

Morning light is slowly crawling up your walls like ivy, the sun just barely creeping over the horizon. And you jolt in panic.

It’s Monday. Did you set your alarms last night? How early is it?

Scrambling for your phone, you read 7:43am and exhale a dramatic breath.

Your first class isn’t till nine.

Heart rate decelerating, you fall back onto your pillow. You feel rested, like you got a full night's sleep and then some. Like you’re finally recovered from the hell you put yourself through to thrive academically.

That’s the fastest you’ve done that since highschool. Only two days?

What changed this time?

Pulling the blankets back over you, the question of ‘how did you get into your bed?’ returns.

Did you wake up by yourself at some point during the night and get yourself there? Did you stay awake for the movie and slither in after Jungkook left? Or did Jungkook have to wake you up to tell you he was leaving?

You cringe, hoping it isn’t that one.

And if it is, you’re glad you don’t remember.

But with that troubling thought and a yawn, you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep, so you yank your sheets off and walk to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You can feel with a run of your tongue over them that you forgot too last night, and you need to get all of yesterday's grime off.

Half way through brushing, you quickly check the fridge for your usual morning breakfast items, only to find all of last night's uneaten snacks inside. There’s still a decent amount of fruits and vegetables left, and you decide that instead of your usual toast, jam and juice, you would use the fruit and borrow a little bit of Yuri’s yogurt for your first meal of the day. Considering it a consultation fee for the inevitable conversation about the duke later, where you will most definitely be asked for your opinion on many things.

After a return to the bathroom to spit and wash, you make a mental note to thank Jungkook for the brain food. You’re going to need it.

You [7:54am]: thanks You [7:55am]: for the food. You [7:55am]: It helped

Chapter 5: Shocking Announcements and Camouflaged Expectations

A/N 2: Thanks for waiting for her <3

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st-eve-barnes · 8 months

Text

You know that I'm no good (chapter 8)

(Modern Aegon x fem Reader, Modern Sihtric x fem Reader)

Summary: You want Sihtric. Aegon wants Skade. There's only one small problem: Sihtric and Skade are dating each other.

This chapter: You spend the night in Aegon's bed, finally giving into your true feelings for him. But what then?

Finally smutty times! And ANGST. And...I am so sorry about the ending...you guys didn't think we were there yet, didn't you?😈

Warning for the entire series: 18+ for explicit language and smut. Angst/comfort/fluff. Fake dating and so much mutual pining. Mentions of depression/drinking/self harm.

This is an Aegon x Reader fic with a bit of Sihtric x Reader on the side. I've wanted to write a modern AU that combines The Last Kingdom and House of the dragon for a while now so here it is!

Word count: +4600

Masterlist

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

Aegon’s driver was as professional as they come, he was overly polite, opened the doors for you and accompanied you to the elevator that lead up to Aegon’s penthouse.

Because of course Aegon would have the best, most expensive apartment in the entire building, you shouldn’t ’t have expected anything less.

You were nervous when you entered his place, it was dark in the loft as you made your way through the enormous kitchen.

On the way over there Aegon had texted you that the door was open and he’d be waiting for you in his bedroom.

Part of you was convinced you were still actually in your own apartment, in your own bed, sound asleep and having this amazing dream that involved Aegon inviting you into his bed.

It was all just too good to be true.

But it was real.

Light was peaking out from under the door of his room. You knocked softly before opening it.

Aegon’s bedroom was as spacious as the rest of the place, king sized bed with dark sheets, cozy lights and a big tv on the wall opposite the bed. He had never looked smaller to you sitting up against the headboard on his side of the huge bed, shirtless, his hair messy and curly and his sleepy sad eyes locking on yours.

He looked like a dream. You didn’t want to speak or move, afraid you would shatter the whole thing and wake up alone again.

“Hey,” he whispered and his lips curled up into a smile watching your short pink pajamas,”You really came like that, huh?”

“You said not to change so…your driver gave me some weird looks though,” you joked, making Aegon laugh but then his gaze was serious again.

He lifted up the blankets to make room for you,”Get in here.”

You took off your shoes and climbed into the bed next to him, propping up the pillow behind your back as you got comfortable, not wanting to get too close to him before knowing his intentions.

Did he just want company? Or comfort? Did he just want to fuck or did he want more?

Or was it none of the above.

Aegon turned on the tv and searched for Stranger Things. Then, without speaking a word, he started up the first episode.

It confused the shit out of you.

You didn’t know how to deal with this quiet version of him, it was the first time you actually had no idea what to say to him. The air in the room felt too heavy and even though Aegon was sitting right next to you it felt like he was a million miles away.

Did he regret his decision to invite you over already? Was that it? Did you read too much into his words?

You got to about fifteen minutes into the first episode when you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Is everything alright?” you asked.

Aegon turned to look at you,”Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you haven’t interrupted the show once, which is highly unlike you, and you’re really unusually fucking quiet.”

Aegon smiled at your directness but once again his smile faded too quickly and never reached his eyes.

“Aegon, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,’ he sighed, a little annoyed.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” you pressed.

“Because,” he started but then bit his lip and sighed deeply, his hand running across his face,”God, fuck, I’m sorry…I’m so bad at this.

“If you want me to go you can just say…”

“No, please!” he interrupted you and his hand reached for yours, gripping it tight,”Please.”

Your gaze met his and your heart sank seeing the struggle in his beautiful, pleading eyes.

“Please don’t go,” he repeated, softer.

You nodded and squeezed his hand,”I won’t, I promise.”

He sighed in relief and you moved a little closer to him in the bed,”Why did you invite me over, Aegs?”

“I think you know,” his voice was soft but his gaze even softer, erasing any thoughts you may have had of leaving from your mind.

“I’d like to hear you say it,” you insisted.

You were suddenly very aware of the grip his hand had on yours, clinging to you and very slowly pulling you closer to him. His gaze was no longer soft, his pupils growing darker and blown with lust.

“What do you want?” you breathed.

He licked his lips before he whispered,”I want to pull you into my lap and kiss you. Is that alright?”

You swallowed hard, unable to form any coherent thoughts or words. All you managed was a small nod and it was all Aegon needed to proceed.

He pulled you to him and then gently cupped your face with one hand before leaning in and kissing you, slow and tentative and so soft it was giving you goosebumps all over. Your hands moved to his bare chest and he whimpered at the first contact.

“Sorry,” you giggled into the kiss,”My hands are cold.”

You wanted to pull them back but Aegon was quick to grab them and place them back on his chest,”Your hands are perfect.”

He kissed you again, slow and unhurried, taking his time to taste you and enjoying the way your breathing picked up and the way your hands moved all over his chest and stomach. Then he pulled you into his lap, legs on either side of him and this time you both whimpered when his cock brushed up against your center. Even through the layers of clothing you could feel how hard he was.

Aegon was kissing you as if he’d been waiting years to do so, as if this was the first kiss, which in a way it was.

There was no audience this time, nobody to put on a show for, it was just you and him, the both of you melting into each other from every angle. He moaned into the kiss when you rolled your hips and then he leaned back to look at you, his gaze both hungry and somehow nervous for your reaction.”Do you want me?” he breathed.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his,”Yes, Aegon.”

His entire face lit up at your confirmation.

You moved your lips to kiss his neck and Aegon’s eyes rolled back into his head, blissful little whimpers escaping his lips as he rocked back against you, letting you feel how desperate he was for you. Your hands moved over his stomach to push at the hem of his boxers, desperate to get them off but Aegon stopped you.

“Shhh, not yet, sweetheart,” he shushed you and then patiently kissed your jaw, your neck, your collarbone until you were a whimpering mess in his lap.

“Please,” you moaned quietly,”I need you.”

“And you’ll have me,” he reassured you,” but first…”

His hand moved down your stomach to untie your shorts while he moved his mouth up to your ear,”First I’m going to put my hand underneath those adorable pink shorts you’re wearing and finger you until you cum all over my hand. Is that alright, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Aegs,” you breathed.

“Is that a yes?” he teased with a smirk.

“Yes,” you begged,”Please, yes.”

Your plea was enough to urge him to speed things up and he pushed you off of his lap to lay you down on his bed.

His lips latched onto your neck again while his hand caressed your stomach and pushed up your top, his hand moving underneath to cup your tits, paying equal attention to both of them. His thumb grazed over your nipples before taking one of them into his mouth, his tongue lapping at those sensitive spots and as if that wasn’t driving you crazy already he also moaned into it.

Your panties were soaked and he hadn’t even touched you there, you weren’t even sure if you would be able to handle it if he did. You were already clenching around nothing, so desperate to feel him inside of you. His cock, his fingers, anything, you didn’t care, you just needed to feel him.

“Aegon, please, baby,” you begged, taking his hand in yours and guiding him down between your legs.

He smirked at your impatience and pulled down the hem of your shorts, his lips brushing the shell of your ear while his fingers slipped into your underwear,”It’s okay, lay back and let me take care of you.”

He continued kissing your neck while his fingers ghosted over your clit, barely touching you but enough to feel how soaked you were.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he teased,”Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been a bad boyfriend, huh? Not giving you what you needed so desperately.”

You nodded, biting your lip.

Aegon showed mercy on you, finally circling your clit and putting pressure right where you needed it. You couldn’t hold back your moans and your hips started bucking up into his hand.

“You’re so needy, I fucking love it,” he purred,”Look at you grinding against my hand, my sweet dirty girl.”

His voice was adding flames to your fire, making you burn up for him a little more with every word he whispered into your ear.

The way he held eye contact through it all was driving you insane. Like he couldn’t bear to look away from you even for a second, taking in your reactions to every single one of his touches, eagerly learning what you liked the most and repeating that over and over until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Finally he slid a finger inside your dripping heat, making you press your nails into his shoulder. You covered your mouth to muffle your cries of pleasure but Aegon was quick to slap your hand away.

“I wanna hear you,” he whispered,”Wanna hear how good I make you feel, moan for me, sweetheart.”

He added a second finger, fucking you with them at a slow, unhurried pace while his thumb found your clit again.

You moaned shamelessly, grinding against him, feeling that heat coil in your belly as your orgasm started to build.

Aegon watched you closely, speeding up his movements but slowing down when you got too close, keeping you right on that edge until he could see tears spilling from your eyes.

“That’s it, baby” he then moaned into your ear,”You can let go now, cum for me, sweetheart, soak my fingers, please, come on…”

He kissed you again then, slow and deep while he fucked you with his fingers, making sure to keep circling your clit as well. It was enough to push you over the edge.

You came with Aegon’s name on your lips, your entire body convulsing under his touch, bliss filling your every nerve unlike anything you had ever felt. You never wanted this to end.

Aegon slowly kissed you through your orgasm, letting you come down from your high but also keeping his fingers inside of you until every last wave of it had passed through you.

He smiled softly, eventually pulling back.”Was that alright?” he asked quietly but with a little hint of mischief in those beautiful blue eyes.

“Fuck yes, that was alright,” you giggled,”That was...holy shit.”

His smile grew wider, proud, and he kissed you again, deeper this time and when he moved against you, you could feel his cock resting against your inner thigh. Hard and leaking and so ready for you.

Your hand moved to push his boxers down, your impatience taking over again and this time he didn’t stop you but instead helped you take them off and then started tugging at your shorts to do the same. Your panties quickly followed, ending up in the pile next to his bed.

His one hand moved down your inner thigh, spreading you open for him while he pressed his forehead against yours, holding eye contact while his cock nudged at your entrance.”You want this, right?” he breathed, struggling to hold himself back but needing that last bit of consent from you,”I need you to say it, sweetheart, please.”

You just nodded and let your hand brush his cheek.”I want you, Aegon,” you confirmed,”I want you.”

You were both breathing hard, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close to you as he slowly pushed himself in, inch by inch. He stretched you to the fullest before slowly pulling out and driving back in again.

Your mind was no longer able to form words, all that filled your senses was him. And you realized there was no going back from this moment, the way he held you and looked at you as if you were the best thing to ever happen to him while he filled you up so perfectly. You had never felt so close to anyone in your entire life and it was making you emotional.

And Aegon noticed, even now. He halted his movements to grab your hand and hold it up against his chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby? What is it? Am I hurting you?”

“No, you’re not hurting me,” you reassured him,”Nothing’s wrong, nothing’s…you’re perfect.”

The soft, loving look in his eyes put a smile on your face.

“You’re so perfect, Aegon,” you repeated in a whisper and he leaned in to kiss you softly. You reciprocated hungrily and then he was fucking you again, more urgent than before.

His pace was slow but when you rocked back against him he started going faster, giving you what you both craved. It didn’t take long for you to lose yourself in him again, and Aegon was right with you this time. His breathing erratic and his moans growing louder as his thrusts became less and less controlled.

“I’m close,” he whimpered,”Fuck, I’m so close, baby.”

“Me too,” you breathed, encouraging him to keep going so he did. His fingers connecting with your clit again, giving you that last little push to topple over the edge with him.

“Fuck,” Aegon was breathing heavily, sweat on his forehead, his cheeks flushed red as he tried to hold back and give you what you needed first,”Shit, I need to…”

“Come inside me,” you whimpered, nails digging into his back.

“You sure?” he checked, biting hard on his lip as his thrusts grew harder and less controlled.

“Yes, I’m on the pill,” you reassured him,”Please, I want to feel you…come inside me, Aegs.”

You had barely finished your words when he did just that, his hot seed filling you up as he buried his face into the crook of your neck with a loud grunt. You followed quickly, moaning his name as your own orgasm rippled through you.

Aegon didn’t move for the longest time after that, just holding onto you as you both tried to come down from it. You hugged him close, neither of you feeling the need to speak for a while. You could have laid here for the rest of your life and be happy.

When Aegon finally looked up he noticed the tears in your eyes.

He gently cupped your cheek and brushed them away, his soft eyes meeting yours,“Hey, you okay, sweetheart?” he checked.

“Yeah,” you smiled through your tears.

“Good tears?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

“Good I-just-had-the-most-satisfying-orgasm-in-my-entire-life tears,” you teased and Aegon’s laughter filled the room, making your heart feel full.

He pulled you next to him in the bed, keeping his arms around you to keep you close to him.

“Was that…okay?” he then asked, insecurity clouding his voice.

You nodded and leaned closer, resting your forehead against his.”Yeah,” you whispered.

His sweet smile warmed your heart and when he placed a soft lingering kiss on your lips you knew your heart belonged to him from now on. It was both the best and the worst feeling in the world.

“Stay,” he then whispered softly,”Please stay with me, my sweet girl.”

”I'm not going anywhere, Aegs,” you kissed him back and pulled him into your arms.

****

You texted Sihtric the next morning to cancel your platonic lunch date, followed by a bunch of apologies but he took it like a true gentleman and told you to text him whenever you felt ready and if that didn’t happen that he would understand.

You had been right about him from the start, he was a truly good man.

But there was only one man on your mind since last night.

Waking up next to Aegon still felt like a dream and instead of kicking you out of his bed he had pushed you down into the mattress and fucked you again before breakfast. He even offered for his driver to take you home, which you gladly accepted.

You had spent that entire Sunday living in a haze and went to bed happier than you had in a really long time that night.

But then the work week started and you got back into the routine. And you didn’t hear from Aegon during those first days, and then Thursday came along and he still hadn’t texted you.

That’s when the doubt started to set in. What if it had just been a casual fuck for him? What if he didn’t feel even an ounce of what you felt for him? What if he regretted it and now anything you two may have had was ruined before it even got a chance to start?

It was Friday and you had settled on the couch, your phone on your lap and a bottle of wine by your side. Normally under these circumstances you wouldn’t hesitate to call Helaena and pour your heart out to her, but that was obviously not an option right now.

You jumped when there was a sudden loud knock on your door. You didn’t want to hope, you knew it would only hurt all the more if it wasn’t him but you were quick to rise to your feet and open the door anyway, relief flooding your veins upon seeing Aegon on your doorstep. His hair was messy but his smile was bright.

“Hi,” he spoke softly while shamelessly staring at you.

“Hi stranger,” you teased,”Your phone not working?”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed,”I should have…texted, or something.”

“Yeah, you should have,” you replied, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.

“Can I come in? Please?”

You nodded and moved to let him step inside your apartment.

“There’s a film screening by the water tonight,” he then started,”We could go if you want.”

He moved into your living room and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he didn’t even touch you.

Was that all he wanted? To take you out in public and play the fake couple again? Were you still right there after everything that happened?

No, it couldn’t be true, your heart could not take this.

“I guess we could,” you tried not to sound as devastated as you felt,”If that’s what you want.”

You stopped to look at him and when your eyes met his he let out a deep sigh.

“No, it’s…that’s not what I want at all,” he confessed,”I don’t care about a stupid movie.”

“What do you want then?” you asked, feeling nervous about his answer but needing him to be honest with you anyway.

“You,” he sighed,”I just want you, Y/N.”

Every doubt and fear fell away when his hands grabbed your waist and he pulled you up against his chest, his lips meeting yours in a soft, deep kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in between kisses,”I should have…called you…I was an idiot…I haven’t…stopped thinking about you…all week. Can you please…forgive me, sweetheart?”

You cupped his face with two hands and kissed him back, unable to stop from smiling.”I forgive you. But don't do that again.”

Aegon didn’t stop kissing you as he pushed you towards the couch, pulling you down onto it with him, making you both giggle. But then he grabbed your neck and looked into your eyes, his gaze suddenly serious and darker.

“Can I fuck you again?” he whispered heavily,”Please?”

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes closing with a soft moan as he started kissing your neck while his hands cupped your breasts through your shirt,”God yes, you can fuck me whenever you want, Aegs.”

It was fast and frantic, clothes were pulled off and discarded, there was no time or no need for foreplay. The both of you starved for each other and when Aegon finally shoved his achingly hard cock inside of you everything was right with the world again. You clung to his shoulders as he fucked you mercilessly on your green couch, bringing you both to a fast and intense climax.

The second time was different, slower, on your bed, with him kissing every inch of skin on your body before he even dared to touch your cunt. When his tongue finally devoured your clit it felt like you ascended to another world and when he fucked you afterwards, lazy and slow and with his eyes on yours the entire time, you cried again.

He kissed away all your tears patiently before making you weep again as he drove you to another mind blowing orgasm. He came with his teeth sinking into the skin of your neck and your name leaving his lips in the most delicious whimper.

****

The weeks that followed felt like a beautiful, romantic and very much not suitable for work dream. You spent your days at work or hanging out with Helaena and you spent your nights in Aegon’s bed, or on your couch, his kitchen table, the balcony of his penthouse, the back of his car, the elevator in your building, …

It didn’t matter what place you were in Aegon needed to have his hands and his mouth on you every night, and preferably in the morning as well. He grew addicted to you fast and you were no less addicted to him.

You felt happy, for the first time in a really long time. Aegon was sweet, always in a good mood and incredibly affectionate.

He was everything previous boyfriends hadn’t been.

He’d hold you until you fell asleep in his arms, cuddle up to you in the kitchen while you were cooking, he’d listen to you when you rambled on about customers at work, he’d even bring you breakfast in bed and pick you up after work. He made you laugh every day and every day was better now because of him.

The sex was infinitely better than anything you’d ever had before. Aegon would always make sure you were taken care of first, he wouldn’t even think about his own climax before he’d made you cum first. He also loved to go down on you, usually while you watched Stranger things. He’d eat you out as if he’d been starved for days, making it impossible for you to focus on the plot of the show, which you stopped caring about several episodes ago, you now just put on the show as an excuse to let Aegon have his way with you.

He was the perfect boyfriend in every way, except that he wasn’t your boyfriend.

You never put a name on what you two had and you never talked about your feelings. You didn’t want to push your luck and lose what you had with him. Things were perfect, why force them to change?

It was a slow day at work that Friday when the door opened and Aegon walked in, the store was empty except for the both of you and you could see that eager, mischievous grin on his face as he stepped up to the counter.

“Good afternoon, miss,” he grinned.

“Hi,” you smiled, leaning across the counter to get closer to him.

Aegon followed your lead.“You alone?”

“Well, there’s one customer in here, it’s this weird but kinda handsome blond guy who comes in every few days,” you teased him,”He never buys anything, doesn’t even look at the books, he just comes in to flirt with me.”

“Hmm, does he now?” Aegon leaned on his elbow, letting his eyes meet yours,”Does he make you uncomfortable? Should I go kick his ass?”

Your lips curled up into a smile,”No. I was just wondering…why he drops by so often.”

Aegon’s hand reached across the counter until he managed to grab your arm and pull you closer.”Maybe he just misses you,” he then whispered.

“Is that so?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up and Aegon softly pressed his forehead against yours.

“Can you take a break?” he then asked,”Hang up a sign and close the shop for ten minutes.”

“The whole ten minutes, oh my god Aegon Targaryen, you must be every girl’s ultimate sexual fantasy,” you teased and laughed and he hit you on the arm.

But then his eyes locked with yours again, his gaze suddenly intense,“I’m your ultimate sexual fantasy and don’t you fucking deny it.”

You bit your lip shyly and smiled,”I wasn’t going to.”

He grabbed your chin with his thumb, forcing you to look deep into his eyes, nothing but hunger staring back at you,“Close the shop.”

You sighed,“I don’t know, what if my boss happens to drop by?”

Aegon leaned in even closer, just enough so he could nuzzle your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. “Come here,” he whispered and he softly kissed the sensitive spot right below your ear, making you shiver.

His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered,”Been thinking about your pussy all day.”

He smiled when he noticed your breathing picking up and he started kissing and licking your neck, making you breathe even harder.

“Aegs,” you moaned quietly, fingers digging into his arm,”What do you want?”

“I wanna taste you,” he breathed in between kissing your neck and jaw,”Right here…wanna push you up against one of those book shelves…tear those jeans and panties off of you…kiss your thighs….suck on your clit until she’s all sensitive and throbbing for me…then…I’m gonna fuck you slowly with my tongue, get you all nice and wet and then…”

“Jesus fuck, alright, I’ll close the shop!”

Aegon smirked and licked his lips while you rushed to lock the door and hang up the Closed sign. Before he could say another word you pulled him with you towards the back of the store.

It turned out ten minutes was more than long enough for Aegon to make you cum twice, once with his head nestled between your thighs and the second time with his cock buried deep inside of you, thrusting so hard the entire bookshelf was shaking.

You held onto him so tight afterwards, fingers deep into the skin of his back as you buried your face against his neck.

“God, I’ve missed that,” he whispered in between kissing your shoulder,”I’ve missed you, so fucking much.”

“Missed you too,” you breathed.

Everything was so perfect, if you had known how quickly it would all fall to pieces afterwards you never would have said a damn thing.

You hadn’t meant to say it, you just got caught up in the moment and the way he was looking at you with those soft, loving eyes of his.

“I love you so much,” you breathed against his lips and Aegon froze.

He recovered quickly, trying to shut you up with more kisses and you reassured him that it was okay, that he didn’t need to say it back to you and that it was just a heat of the moment thing and not a big deal.

But it was a big deal, it seemed like a huge fucking deal to Aegon.

It was the beginning of the end.

#aegon x reader #aegon x you #sihtric x reader #aegon smut #sihtric smut #hotd fanfic #the last kingdom fanfic #tom glynn carney fanfic #arnas fedaravicius fanfic

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pattypanini · 2 months

Text

Lay All Your Love On Me

Chapter 1- Trust Fund Baby

Josh Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 2,257 (Short one, sorry guys)

AN: Hi everyone! Here is the first chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! We hope you enjoy and please leave comments or feedback, we want to learn on what we can do better. This is a short one so prepare for more chapters soon!

Warnings: 18+, Angst, Flirting, Cursing, Degrading, NO smut yet... be prepared for the near future though.

Late March 2023- Spring Semester- Junior Year

“Okay let's run that scene one more time. We're gonna pick up with y/n’s first verse and continue through it. And please, more passionate guys give me some emotion. And 5, 6, 7, 8…”

The instrumental begins to play and you prepare yourself for the worst scene with the most insufferable guy you’ve ever met, Josh Kiszka. You get uncomfortably close to him, getting ready for one of the more enjoyable parts, pushing him into the artificial rock wall. He takes an extra step towards you, closing the gap even more. You push him hard and begin to sing and Josh gives you a cocky ass grin as he props his body up against the wall, watching you intently as you walk towards him. He’s disgusting.

You reach up to grab his face. Slowly, but painfully, you drag your hands down his chest not being able to ignore his toned body beneath his thin, white shirt. Without a doubt, your disgusted look was written all over your face and was easily recognized.

“CUTTTT. Stop the music.” Dr. Coleman, the director shouts, slamming her papers onto the table in front of her.

The music stops and Josh lets out a frustrated groan and both of you turn to Coleman who is furiously walking towards the stage, flailing her arms.

“What the hell was that? Sky and Sophie are madly in love, you both look like you're about to throw up on each other. We have been working on this since February and you guys still can’t get your shit together.” She slams her hands on the stage looking up to the two of you.

You look to Josh to get a read on him, seeing if he agrees or not on what Dr. Coleman just said. Turning to him, inconspicuously, you see a look of annoyance.

Since freshman year Josh has always thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. He thinks he should either have the lead role, or that the other actors around him weren’t good enough to work “alongside him.” And that may lead back to the fact that his daddy gives a generous deposit to the music department at the University of Michigan every year for the musicals. Josh has always been told that he's been the most talented man anyone has ever seen, by directors, family, and many others. But to you, he was just an egotistical, trust fund baby.

“I don't even want to see the crawl, something needs to be figured out here before we move on next week. There is no chemistry or love, I'm not buying a bit of it. We're done for the day, rest up for next week everyone.”

As everyone begins to clear out Josh looks at you and furrows his eyebrows, “Yeah mama, why don’t you love me?” His hands clutching his heart. “Show me some love y/n.” A shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Fuck you.” You mutter under your breath as you walk away from him.

“I know you want to.” You hear from across the stage while grabbing your stuff. Without looking, you knew his body would show he was enjoying the moment way too much. Cocky little shit.

“Y/n, get back here. Rehearsal is not over yet for you two,” The director motions to Josh. “We have a long weekend since everyone is off on Monday, so you two NEED to build a connection with each other, hangout or something, or else someone is losing their part.” She says sternly and begins to walk away leaving you two to talk it over.

“... Its not gonna fucking be me, so you better start lovin’ on me, y/n.” Josh whispers, feeling his warm breath against your ear.

“In your dreams, Kiszka.” Rolling your eyes towards him, grabbing your bag and leaving before this situation could get any worse.

As you walk back to your dorm late that night, you prepare to be interrogated by your curious roommate, Charlotte. Putting in the pin to your dorm you walk into the shared living space and see Charlotte working on her English paper that she, of course, pushed off until the last minute.

“Procrastinating again I see?” You joke as you put your backpack near the door.

“Of course, what else would I be doing? But now I have an excuse to stop because I need to know the tea. How was the rehearsal?” She says shutting her laptop and turning herself to you on the couch.

You debated lying to her and just saying it was good and move on, but you needed to rant.

“Pretty awful actually. I’m being threatened that my role might be given to someone else.” You flop onto the couch next to her.

“What! Why? I thought you were perfect as Sophie?”

“I am.” You try not to sound cocky. “But my ‘love interest’ and I don't seem to have the connection the director is looking for.”

“Josh Kiszka?” She says with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, knowing what's about to happen.

“But he's sooo hot, how could you not be attracted to him? I’d kill to be in your position right now.”

You weren’t going to lie. He was a very attractive man, but he's so stuck up.

“He’s such a dickhead, Charlotte. He's too cocky for his own good. And I know that if the chemistry isn’t there it'll be my part taken away, not his, since his dad practically buys his parts for him.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“The director wants us to get to know each other and form some type of ‘connection’ but I don’t see that working out.” You scoff.

There is a moment of silence before it is broken by Charlotte's horrifying idea.

“You guys could fuck, break the tension a little, you know?” She says elbowing you in the side.

“WHAT, no fucking way. I don’t want to even kiss him in scenes, let alone fuck him.” You think about the idea and have to physically stop yourself from gagging. You cringe, as a shiver travels down your spine.

“Well I would gratefully take the part from you to get a little Josh action, or from any of the Kiszkas.” She giggles.

You begin to think about it and a pang of jealousy washes over you. You didn’t know why, but you didn’t like the feeling.

“I’ll figure it out, I might have to be the bigger person and reach out to him over the weekend.”

You grab your bag, dropping it off in your room and walk to your bathroom, needing to cleanse yourself of the negative energy from tonight. As you begin to take off your clothing, you think about what Josh would look like without his shirt on during the actual performance.

It's one thing to feel what's underneath, but seeing it is another. Subconsciously, you get a shiver all over your body, hardening your nipples. What is going on? You never thought about him like this. Maybe because you really never thought about him much at all?

Freshman and Sophomore year had been a breeze, only having to play side characters, but this is your first main role as Sophie.

When Coleman came to you before winter break and told you about the spring musical that would be put together by her with her ‘best students’ you got excited. You were happy to be considered one of her best. You studied that movie and musical all until the last moment before auditions that were held a week before winter break was over. They were very small due to the limited people chosen to get a chance at a role. You and Sophia ‘Bitch’ Michaels, or that's at least what everyone in the theater department liked to call her, were trying out for Sophie. When the cast list was posted on the department's website, you were ecstatic. But some weren’t. You got many threats from Sophia that night, but that was shortly followed by you blocking her number.

Not having many roles in romantic plays you were inexperienced, but in real life, it was no problem. Most weekends, you often wake up to new, unfamiliar faces in random beds, but it wasn’t any secret. You wanted to have fun in college and get experience with lots of people, and didn’t mind that people knew.

You wondered if Josh knew. But why should you care? You never cared if anyone else knew, so he's no different. You hop into the shower, having many thoughts about the night and what would happen in the future. As you finish rinsing the soap off your body, you wrap yourself and hair in a towel. You step out from the shower and scurry back into your room.

Your room showcased you perfectly. Many posters of your favorite musicals and some dance awards you earned throughout highschool. You connect your speaker to your phone and play some music quietly to not disturb Charlotte from her work. As you close out of Spotify you look to see one notification on messages.

11:12pm Josh: So do you want to figure this out or do you want me to text Coleman now and start looking for a new lead, or do you want to do that yourself?

11:16pm y/n: Simmer down Josh. It's not my problem, I have to work with a pretentious piece of shit! 🙂

11:18pm Josh: Someone seems to be bratty this time of night.

11:19pm y/n: Did you text just to be an ass or did you actually have something important to say?

11:22pm Josh: Well I was going to see what you wanted to do about this so we don’t have to find someone new for your part.

You scoff at the fact that he's so confident that it would be you getting booted.

11:24pm y/n: Oh so you don’t want me gone, is that so?

11:27pm Josh: I just don't want to have to learn how to work with some new moron that doesn’t know how to act for shit.

11:28pm y/n: Aw so cute Josh, you admitted I can act 😘

11:30pm Josh: Don't get a big head y/n. So what do you want to do?

You sat there and thought about it for a moment, and it always went back to Charlotte's comment earlier.

“You guys could just fuck, break the tension a little you know?”

11:39pm y/n: Do you wanna go out or something? We can go to that bagel place down on the main street, their everything bagels with lox are so good.

11:41pm Josh: That's so cute y/n, you wanna go on a date with me? 😏

11:44pm y/n: Well do you have a better idea?

11:48pm Josh: You can come to my place, work on some stuff. We can watch the movie so you can see what real passion and love looks like, seeing that you’re the ‘campus slut.’

God he's awful, but this role is important to you.

11:51pm y/n: Jealous that you don’t get any Josh? Are you pussy deprived?

11:57pm Josh: So when do you want me to send the text to Coleman? Now or do I wait til tomorrow?

11:58pm y/n: Fine, when do you wanna do it?

12:01am Josh: Tomorrow at 8. I live in the apartments next to the dining hall, apartment 322. My brother will be gone at band practice, so we will have the place to ourselves.

12:03am y/n: Okay, and how long will he be at ‘band practice’ for?

12:04am Josh: Well his BAND PRACTICE is from 8-10, and then he’s staying at his friend, Scotts, apartment for the night to work on some music or something.

12:06am y/n: Was that orchestrated by you?

12:07am Josh: I’ll see you tomorrow at 8, goodnight.

As you stare at your phone, you are in disbelief at the conversation you two just had. There was tension, and not the kind you had expected. As you sit in your towel, you're brought back to reality when you realize Heartbeat by Childish Gambino is playing.

“I might just text you”

You thought over how he was making you think and feel…

“Turn your phone over”

Things you didn’t want to feel from him…

“When it's all over”

You had a feeling of desire…

“No settling down,”

A feeling of wanting to be desired…

“My text go to your screen”

Specifically…

“You know better than that”

From Josh Kiszka.

“I come around when you least expect me. I’m sitting at…”

You quickly shut out of Spotify knowing that was your sign that you were done for the night. You change out of your towel and into your Michigan T-shirt and plaid PJ pants.

You walk out to see if Charlotte had retreated to her room or was still working on her paper to share what had just happened.

“You still working, Char?”

“I think I’m done for the night, I’ll take the points off for not having citations.” She laughs while closing her laptop. “ Did you reach out to Josh?”

“No…no not yet. We’ll see what happens tomorrow, I guess.. Good night Char.”

“Night y/n.”

With that you tuck yourself into bed with one thought only, Josh Kiszka.

#gvf smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiskza smut #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #josh kiszka #gvf

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dawnoftime22 · 3 months

Text

"...because it feels like it will."

| W.M ( -> N.R )

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 4

Chapter Warnings: Staying underwater in a bathtub for a couple seconds, relationship problems, avoidance, distancing, alcohol, getting drunk.

Summary: Everything in your world starts to fall apart.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 5.1k

Category: Angst. Full on aaaaangst.

A/N: this was...a lot. and unlike anything I've written before, but hooooo! I love how it turned out. I was a little late, but I hope you enjoy it <3

| Started on 19/01/2024, 2:28 PM |

| Finished on 05/02/2024, 8:18 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 3 Chapter 5 ->

"When did your heart stop beating as it once used to for me?"

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

Light broke through the window, dawn visiting the sky with the sun. The bed was empty of either of your bodies. Dust could be seen floating around in the sunlight that came in the room.

You were up and about, already having finished showering and wearing your clothes. Wanda on the other hand, had gotten out the house even before you awoke.

Your feet takes you to the kitchen, the dim lighting adding nothing but only sleepiness to your still low energy. Even though you got your rest and showered.

You open the pantry to grab two slices of bread, to then put in the toaster after making sure the timer was set right. The watch on your wrist tells that it was 7:43 AM. You still had time.

As you waited for your bread to toast, you went to make a drink in your mug. Your thoughts drift to the brunette as you do so, not being able to help it.

Wanda had slowly started to not be present. You could say it's work, you could say she's busy or tired, but it was starting to be unavoidable to think about.

With you starting up work again, it being a weekday once more, you weren't sure if you were glad or not. It'll either be a distraction to not thinking about her at all, or more time alone to yourself to only be thinking about her.

A sigh leaves your mouth and you gently shake your head, trying to rid the endless thoughts in your head. Your hands cup the freshly made drink held within the warm mug, letting it sit on the cold marble counters.

Soon enough, your bread pops up from the toaster, and it was nearly perfect aside from the slightly lesser toasted parts. You probably need a new toaster.

Not caring much about it though, you grab a plate and place it on there, making your sandwiches easily for a morning breakfast. The minutes were going by a little quicker with every second you spent eating, and honestly, time was starting to look like its going against you today.

After you rush to finish the last few bites and put the plate in the sink along with your now empty mug, you go to the front door, phone and keys already in your pockets.

The drive to your workplace was a blur, your eyes were focused on the roads and your mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of everything and nothing as you tried to distract yourself with music.

You arrived soon enough and walk through the building, passing by co-workers, and many other people you didn't take mind to put a name to or even know.

Your work was pretty boring, sitting down at a desk with a plastic chair-- Yes, plastic, as there weren't any that were comfortable around the building except for the one in the boss's office.

The only thing that wasn't boring with it was being able to fiddle around with some spotlights and having fun with the colors. Your fingers move around the control board as you set everything up.

As time went by, you finished it up and let the lights do whatever you set them to do. Now, you had a choice to either sit and do something else, or do paperwork.

Although that sounded awful, you went to work on them instead, not wanting to be sore from sitting in the same position for the next few hours on your chair watching whatever show you downloaded on your phone while working on the lights.

The time went by, and you finished up most of it all, until lunch came by and it was time to get a break. You get up from your chair and leave the pen you were holding in your hand to lay upon the papers, going off in search for some food.

You made sure your phone was still in your pocket as you made your way out, your car still waiting for you outside. But, seeing as the place was close, you could just walk there. The sun shone down on you, the heat obvious both from your body warming up, and the bright yellow sunlight across the concrete sidewalk and other buildings.

After you went in the nearby café, you started cooling down a bit, the ac within it easily helping you out. The place was starting to get packed, but you've always had a small little corner you're able to keep for yourself every lunch break.

You go up to the front counter, ordering a few things before you went to the empty table. Your order number was a bit far, but you didn't mind it as you stared out the window. Lucky the sun didn't filter in through the glass here, seeing as it was behind the building.

Your mind then drifted off, stuck on a certain thought ever since you saw the clock strike lunch time. You bit down on your bottom lip and your hand reached in your pocket to grab your phone.

As your fingers unlock it and go through the apps to then scroll in your contacts list, your mind reeled with every possible thing that could happen. You probably shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. But it's worth a try.

Your thumb hovers over her name for a short while, but you give in and tap on the contact, giving in. It switches to calling mode, and you put your phone to your ear, anticipation making your heart beat faster.

The dialing tone keeps sounding out, and you were starting to regret it, but hope lead on with every beep. You hoped it doesn't go to voicemail. And it doesn't.

"Hello?" Her voice comes through the phone clearly, and you let go of a breath you've been holding quietly, looking out the window, so your eyes don't just focus on the plain table. You gather your thoughts, turning them into words.

"Hey. Um, you have lunchtime free, right?" You ask, your eyes moving to the orders list. Your number was going up, but you had enough time to keep talking with her.

"I do...Why?" She asks, as if skeptical of something. Had she forgotten about lunch break? You didn't let the curious thought linger and instead fiddle with the paper in your hand of your order number.

"I was just...wondering, because I do, and well, do you wanna have lunch together?" You say casually, expecting a denial with the many times she has before.

"Sure. Sure, that sounds good." She says, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. But your heart jumps at the agreement.

"Okay. I'll maybe..." You pause for a second, looking down at the time on your watch. It showed 1:15 PM. "...see you at 1:20 PM?"

"I can be there by 1:30 PM." Her voice elongates some words, probably also checking her own watch as she said it. You smile, happy with her answer nonetheless.

"Okay. See you here." You say quietly, trying your best to keep your cool, like anyone else in the café. Although, they're probably pretty calm at the moment and not getting excited about something.

"See you." She didn't say anything else, and all you heard after was an end call tone. You pull your phone away from your ear, and right when you do, you notice the order list moving to your number.

You stood up, and went to grab it, thanking the cashier. When you sat back, you took a sip of your drink, but nothing more, thinking of waiting for Wanda.

As you waited, and waited, checking the time, your meal was starting to get cold and you were getting hungry. You took a couple bites here and there, enjoying your lunch.

Soon enough it was now getting to 2:20 PM. Your lunch break was ending soon, and you finished up the last of it, but not with someone you were hoping to spend it with. You check your phone again, in case you had somehow missed something even with the past few minutes you looked.

hey, are you coming?

if you have to cancel that's okay, just say it

Sent at 2:00 PM.

Wanda?

Sent at 2:14 PM.

No reply. Your hope was running short, and the café was starting to empty out. You take another look at the empty seat in front of you, then to the window's view of the roads outside. There was no sign of the brunette you much so keep precious.

You sigh, and get up, holding your phone tightly in your hands before storing it back in your pocket. It wasn't much. She was starting to deny spending lunchtime with you, and today was the first in a while she accepted. But it's worse when you find some hope and it escapes from your hands.

You put on your headphones, playing some music as you walked back, knowing the rest of the day you had to just finish up work. Hours and hours passed by and you had to stretch so you wouldn't get sore. But you made it through the end. You always do. The sun was setting as you collected your stuff and exited the building, going to your car.

You soon enough get home, having driven on auto-pilot, which was quite dangerous, but you've made it back unscathed. Or, well, physically. Mentally? You weren't doing so well.

The lock of the front door clicks with the movement of your hands, that then glide off to let your legs be free of your shoes. The place was quiet. A usual greeting whenever you'd come home, but it's gotten quieter, an in between from that horrid silence and just the atmospheric quietness. A void that seemed to swallow you up whole within your mind, replacing the silence.

You sigh heavily, walking to the bedroom. Nothing else was in your mind to do but just to take a shower. Although with how draining a shower in of itself sounded to be, you had decided with another version; the bath.

Your bag and jacket was taken off and thrown gently on the bed as you went to search for some comfortable clothes in the closet. Shirt, another shirt, jacket...Wanda's jacket, hoodie, collared shirt, and then your hand lands on a comfy oversized shirt you'd wear at home.

Sweatpants was swiped off from another part of the closet and put on the bed, ready for you get into after you were done. You go into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it, even though no one else was in the house. Habit, you supposed. Plus, safety.

You turn on the faucet at the bathtub, letting the water run hastily down. You made sure the drain hole was closed and the temperature was just right before turning it off, peeling off your clothes to then carefully climb in the tub.

The warm water eased your tense muscles, the gentle small ripples visiting your skin as you moved to get comfortable. The bathtub was cold as you placed your hands on the sides, a big range in the temperature difference with the water.

Sounds of water tapping from the sink or showerhead every now and then echoes, reverberating off the walls. It was nice. Something to keep you company here and there even if your mind was hazy with thoughts.

Your eyes focus on a part of the wall somewhere in the bathroom, spacing off. You try not to do it for too long, knowing you'll only dig yourself a digger hole with thinking. Slowly, you take a deep breath in and sink into the bathtub, holding your breath in the water while bubbles went to surface.

You can feel the pressure heavy on your head. The water devouring you as you stayed down. After a few seconds though, you pull yourself back up, letting air flow back into your lungs and wiping your hair off your face.

It made you feel more alive, oddly enough, for something that's dangerous. Rather concerning if you thought about it more, but you brush it off and started to do more things, such as cleaning yourself off with some soap, the familiar scent filling the bathroom and making your exhausted soul relax just for a while.

Soon enough, you get out and dry yourself up, making sure the bathtub was drained of any water too. The cold air that visits you when you step out the bathroom, although even with a towel wrapped around your body, still stings your skin.

Your legs take you over to the bed, your hands moving on their own as you wore your clothes, the fabric covering your body and warming you right up easily.

Once you got done, you were right about to drop onto the bed, but then you look around the empty room. You end up staring at the flowers you got her in the corner of the room, sitting atop her desk. You clench your jaw slightly, and walk over to it. But you didn't do anything, really. Only your hand went up to gently touch the soft petals. You take in a deep breath before letting it go, your hand going into a fist as you let out your breath.

You turn away from it and walk back to the bed, shaking your head at your own movements and thoughts. You sat on the bed, the sheets soft on your hand. You then slowly drop down to lay your back against the mattress, your eyes looking up at the blank ceiling while your legs dangles off the edge of the bed.

With the seconds that go by, just as you were about to finally move to the pillows and lay comfortably, your phone dings with a notification. Your heart skipped a beat, and you freeze, a dreading feeling overcoming you.

You think it over and hesitate, not wanting to feel any worse, but having a gnawing feeling to check. But then you prop yourself up with your hands and grab your phone, the screen lighting up with your lockscreen as you clicked the power button.

The time shows up and a few other notifications, but one thing stood out to you most. A message. By who? Well, of course the one that's been on your mind for all of today. Your heartrate speeds up and you read the message.

Hey, sorry, I forgot to tell you I couldn't make it.

I'll try to make it home before you sleep though. Love you.

Sent at 7:34 PM.

Your eyes falter with any spark of hope you had left, and you click the power button once more, turning your phone off and slightly dropping it on the bed, it making a soft thump against the soft mattress. Your phone was fine and safe with the drop, but your heart surely wasn't.

Your throat swells up, and you hold your tongue against your teeth, trying everything within you not to let it get to you, but you slide off the bed and go to sit on the floor, your back resting against the side of the bed now.

A sniffle comes from you and your eyes well up with tears. You didn't want to cry. But with everything-- your lungs do a sharp intake of breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, pulling your legs up to your chest and hugging your legs with your arms.

Your tears soon leak from your eyes, down to your cheeks and sobs left your mouth. God, of course you were crying. It was just a small thing. Or well, that's what your mind wants you to think. She's never left you waiting just like that.

A few more couple of minutes went by, with you letting out your built up feelings until you calm down a little more. You wipe away the mixed tears that were both from your nose and your eyes, both the skin of your hand and your arm filled with it.

They dried off though as you pulled yourself up off the floor and got back on the bed, your teeth capturing your bottom lip. So many muscles working to keep yourself moving, even though they got a rest in the bathtub, they were kept going even after.

But now, you relax a bit, shuffling to lay your head on the pillow. It was cold, so you go to grab the covers first and pull it over you. You curl up under them, your nose red from the crying. But your body got to rest as your once heavy breaths went softer with every minute.

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

The next day you once more awoke to empty sheets. Again and again. You were starting to question what exactly was happening, because it all seemed to be something rather than just your mind playing tricks on you.

Nothing much happened in the day. You worked at home, doing stuff on your laptop. Once you were done, you laid around relaxing while all at the same time being anxious. While the sun went down, the skies got cloudy, and just as the moon started to glow brightly, rain starts pouring down.

It was getting cozy, with the dim lighting. You watched a show on the tv, but wasn't really waiting on much, just scared of what you'll have to soon face.

As an hour or two go by with you sitting on the couch, you start to get sleepy, your eyes heavy. But right as you shut off the tv and was about to get up, you hear keys clinking near the front door.

You kept your place on the couch, your eyes keeping watch of it, but when you hear a struggle with the keys going in and not unlocking, you stand up, going to go open it for her.

You turn the lock and open it, behind it revealing Wanda who had seemed like she just got up from crouching to grab her keys.

"Hi." She says with a small laugh, smiling sheepishly as she held her keys between her fingers, showing them to you. "Slippery hands."

You didn't react much, only your lips moved to form a straight line as you stepped aside to let her in. She goes in and kicks off her shoes while you closed the door behind her, locking it.

As Wanda went to take off her jacket too, you walk more to her front, your mind only focused on what had happened yesterday.

"You didn't show up yesterday," you say in a whisper, the words coming out of your mouth without much thought. She turns her head to look at you, her mouth open slightly as she took in a breath in surprise but as if moving to say something.

"I got caught up in doing stuff and I...forgot." She puts her keys in her pockets, turning fully to you. That was when she saw your face, how different you seemed than the soft look you'd usually look at her with.

"We had lunch break, Wands." The nickname slipped from your mouth easily, especially in the situation of the confrontation. Your voice was gentle, but stern, and full of emotion.

"I know, but so much is going on and..." she trails off as she looks away from you, and you had hoped she'll go on, but instead she purses her lips and her eyes travel back to you, a breath of a sigh leaving her mouth.

"Come on, it's going to be New Year's soon." Your eyes widen a bit at the mention, having forgotten it was going to be the start of a new year from the weeks you've been lost in. She puts her hands up as if to gesture before she reaches in a bag she had brought home, grabbing something.

"I got us wine." She pulls out the bottle of wine, a small smile playing on her lips as she raises her eyebrows. Surprise was on your face before you furrow your eyebrows, seeing where she was going with this.

"Right...but we should really talk." You say, your eyes following her movement as she walked off to the kitchen, grabbing some wine glasses and popping open the wine.

"Soon, Y/N," she said sternly herself, focused on pouring the drink down in the glasses as you made your way to where she stood near the kitchen island.

"Now, are we going to party or are you going to ruin it?" She finishes up, grabbing a glass full and holding it out for you, her face obvious with expecting you to go with the first choice.

Your eyes flicker from her and the glass, before lingering on the glass. A breath leaves your body through your nose gently and your hand impulsively reaches up to grab it. It was a moment of weakness and you took it.

She smiles and hums, grabbing her own glass and taking a sip. You too, although you took a bit more than she did. The liquid easily ran down your throat, although burning slightly.

"You know what I think we should do?" She sounded out, her eyes looking towards the watch, counting down the hours until New Year's came around. You follow her gaze, and there was around two hours left.

You hum in question, looking back at her. She smiled wider and goes to the drawers nearby, opening one. You gazed curiously at her, wondering what exactly she was up to.

"We should play some Uno." She holds up the box that held the cards, and your eyebrows rose, but finally your lips raise up too slightly.

She goes over to the living room, sitting down on the couch and setting up the cards. You follow behind her, sitting on the bean bag nearby the couch as you wait for your set of cards.

The two of you start the game, it starting off slow until it moved to a few Unos and fails. You had one too many reds now, and really you were starting to hate the color.

She calls out Uno, and you had two cards left. You hoped she didn't have a yellow, seeing as she's been going with your last few reds and blues, but not a yellow.

As it was her turn, she cheers and whoops, throwing her last card onto the pile of uno cards you two played. It was a wild card.

"I won!!" She says, putting her hands in the air, and you had your mouth open in shock, looking at her with an unbelievable expression.

"That's not fair! You're using a wild card." You put your hand out, gesturing towards it. Sure you've seen this strategy before, and even used it yourself, but it definitely frustrated you most times.

"It is fair!" She laughs, drinking more from her glass and finishing the last drop of wine in it, leaving it back on the coffee table next to the stack of cards.

"Nope!" You say, grabbing the pile of Uno cards and gathering them, putting them together properly once more for another match.

"Is!" She exclaims with a smile and a tilt of her head, watching you shuffle the cards when you got them all.

Soon after a couple more rounds, and a couple more wine refills, the two of you get drunker as time inched to New Year's, your happiness only there because the alcohol riled you up.

"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" She asks, laughing, and her words slurring as you had your feet in her lap, your back laid on the floor while hers was against the couch.

"Because we are extremely drunk. That's how." You say through a giggle, putting up your index finger as if to make a point.

You moved to sit up and shuffle to sit beside her instead of laying down, her gaze focused on the time. You smile, looking at her lovestruck, although drunk. You then whisper, "I love you."

But she only went with, "Andddd...Happy New Year's!!" She puts her hands up and turns to you, going in to kiss you on your lips. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you take it.

That was how that night turned out. You both went on, and danced, and did other things until you fell asleep. The morning was ruined with a horrid hangover, but you managed, somehow. Wanda just spent her day by going with sleeping longer.

And then, in the span of months, the relationship you built so carefully with love and passion, through four months, started to fall down. All along with your heart. Slowly. Oh, so slowly.

You started to only see her in the middle of the nights, whenever the bed dips and you wake up just slightly. Most times she wouldn't even bother to go close to you and pull you close. Just keeping her distance.

On some random day, you decide to break and pick up your phone, being unable to deal with any of it anymore.

You go through the grueling process of going to your contacts and searching her up once more, your fingers not hesitating to tap on the call button.

And as you wait, you hear the calling noise sound out. That sickening. Call tone. But after just a few more, she picks up.

"Hello?" She says, and you could hear a bit of her sokovian accent coming out. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. She only did that when she was angry or something, but you went on with your plan.

"Wanda, we need to talk." You say, although slightly calmly, you were certainly trying your best to keep yourself grounded than splutter out all the words and questions in your head.

"Yeah?" She says in a breath, and you can hear something in the background. You assume she dropped something, because it sounded like clutter.

"Why are you being so distant lately?" You slowly ask, and she went silent. It left you sitting in your thoughts as to what exactly she was doing on the other side of the call.

Probably thinking about her next words. Probably 'busy with work,' probably this, probably that. Then you hear her take in a breath.

"...I think we need to take a break." She says suddenly. You were expecting it. Not that sentence, and certainly not that straightforward. You were expecting her to say, 'We need to break up.' But your mouth would be open slightly either way.

This was happening on a phone call. Of all the times you could be together, and she decides to do it over the phone. Sure, you rang her up, but it was to go in the direction of communication, not to do something a little extreme.

"What? Wanda, what we need least of all is a break. Honestly, we need more time together than less." You say in disbelief and scoff, knowing you had spent less time than you ever had the start of last year.

"Communication. We need that. Please, we've been through this before." Your voice came out more gently, and a little shakily, your thoughts having gone to the past but not lingering.

"I tried spending time with you. It's just...I don't know, Y/N." She said in frustration, and your eyes roll slightly then move around the room, looking at every furniture here as you tried to make sense of the situation and find more words to say to her.

"What do you mean, you 'don't know'??" You question. She was either just as confused of her emotions or feelings just as you were or, she was holding something back.

"I love you, you know that. But I...don't think we can work right now." She said urgently at first before transitioning to a slower pace in her talking. Your eyes well up with tears, and it took everything in you not to straight up hang up the phone. You had to deal with this even through the tears while talking to her. You took a deep breath.

"Talk, Wanda." You say, and she goes quiet once more. This time, perhaps out of guilt. The silence was deafening, and you had nothing to focus on except for the hardwood flooring and the carpet.

"I...think I'm falling out of love with you." At that, your heart drops. Her voice was shaky too, and full of emotions. Way more than you've ever heard for the past few days.

"What...?" The word comes out in a breath from your mouth. It didn't feel real. This didn't feel real. Your heart didn't even feel like it was beating anymore. Was this one of your nightmares? Well, it's a real one, that's for sure, with the texture of the couch felt against the skin of your hands.

"I don't wanna fight with you and...you're making no sense." You look up and sniffle, trying your best not to let yourself cry while still on the call. Wanda was silent.

"But okay. If that's what you really want." You nod continuiously, your voice obvious in sounding like you're about to tear up. And you were.

"I'll see you later, Y/N." She said. You didn't even get the chance to hang up, the ending tone sounding out and echoing. The silence wasn't a welcome back at all. A welcome to hell? Maybe.

You sat with your shoulders slumping, processing what had just happened, and you finally break, crying once again.

The rest of the day was filled with dread and like your heart was getting beat and shattered to a million peaces. You had retreated to the comfort of your bed, laying in it and letting your tears stain the pillow you laid your head on.

You slept all alone.

But you'd do it over and over again for her. Just because you believed it'll pass with time. Just because...you didn't want to let go yet. Just a little longer.

You only saw her once in december. And it wasn't even really december anymore, it was new year's day. Plans that started every now and then, though rare, was getting cancelled.

She seemed like she was getting sick to her stomach every time she met you face to face once more. Either that or your mind was tricking you.

Your body subconsciously moved every now and then, searching for the warmth of another body next to you, but there wasn't one, and your body had found your own warmth by curling up instead.

end of chapter 4. </3

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 1 year

Text

if I can never give you peace — nine || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 9.1k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fights and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): angst, guns, threats, generally dark, violence, car crash.

First · Previous · Next

Hours easily blend together when they’re left to stretch ad infinitum. That was a lesson that you had learned on the very first hectic night you had lived through under Mr. X. Back then, it had been a mere attempt at secession — one of the powerful groups of the Organization had thought they might be able to stand up on their own, without the Family’s support. They had wiped out all the people Mr. X had placed in one day, swift and efficient, and had announced their intentions mere hours after that. You remember that they had been delivered by a man bruised and bloody who could only slur his words, and you remember the thoughtful way in which Mr. X had tapped his fingers on his cane.

You didn’t think anyone in the Organization had gotten so much as a wink of sleep that night.

You had known from the second you had gotten the text that tonight would be no different. As a result, scrambled on the white board inside the conference room that you had not yet gotten the chance to inaugurate, were all the important events of the night.

6.00 pm: bomb goes off in front of HQ

6.34 pm: attack on a drug carrier exiting the harbor. cargo stolen.

6.48 pm: casino The Imperial announces its separation from the Organization. Followed by most similar establishments.

6.55 pm: raid

7.05 pm: departure from HQ

9.23 pm: attacks on two of Lucas’s clubs

10.58 pm: attacks on establishments under protection; two thwarted

2.41 am: storage warehouse burned down

5.10 am: altercation near the Circle. 8 dead, ? wounded. police intervention.

It had now been two hours since you had last received information you had deemed important enough to write it on the board, but your fingers still twitched in anticipation. People and informations had come and gone the entire time, and even now, your phone was still buzzing every few seconds, your eyes scanning the messages quickly as they appeared. Numbers, locations, defections, all things you would have to file after getting some sleep.

None of them had quite managed to shake you out of the numbness you had been feeling since the raid of 6.55 pm.

You had been the first one to get the texts, but Jungkook and Suga had not been far behind.

‘Descent on hybrid district,’ the text had read. ‘Scorched earth’.

Jungkook’s face had darkened, murderous rage filling his eyes. You hadn’t tried to hold him back after that, even the fear you felt for him not quite managing to seep through the horror you had felt at that statement.

This was a targeted attack. There were numerous innocent families, children, people who were just living their lives in the hybrid district. This was intended purely to hit where it would hurt Jungkook the most.

It had worked as intended.

You had attempted to send Hector home at eleven, since there were still men left in the building, but he had simply shaken his head. He was now sitting on a chair, by the door, in a drowse. He did not even stir when you made a phone call, but you had noticed his eyes lifting whenever there was a noise outside. You supposed you would feel guilty about it if there had been any room left for guilt within you in the last twelve hours.

The flow of information had been non-stop, and what you were putting out was almost as consequent. After that first night, Mr. X had compared you to a computer, able to treat the data in seconds and to figure out the best course of action from there. You had been the one who had been responsible for the plan that had effectively choked the opposing group to death. All exit routes methodically cut, all options taken into account.

None of them had made it out alive.

Tonight, you had done everything in your power to ensure that your side would not be put in the same situation.

“You might wanna head home, ma’am,” Hector suggests from his seat, and you look up at him. Your eyes have been open so long they burn.

“I probably won't be long,” you reply, and even you don't manage to keep the exhaustion out of your voice. “Just a few minutes more.”

You see, in the way that his eyebrows rise, that he does not find your decision to be judicious, but he doesn't say anything and you're thankful for that. If he did, you might have to confront the real reason you’re insisting on staying here, awake, and that is because you're desperate to hear from either Jungkook or Suga. Though you have gotten messages from people surrounding them — few and far between, as you don’t have that many informants around there — and they seemed to still be alive a few hours ago, it’s been a long time and you just—

God. You just want to know that Jungkook’s okay. You just want to know that he’s found somewhere safe and that he’s managed to minimize the damage. You know, realistically, that you would have heard far more about it if that wasn’t the case, and yet there’s this deep, dull throbbing in your chest that has not gone away once since Jungkook walked out the door, prepared for a fight to the death — though you doubted he had feared it would be his death.

And so, even though you should, you cannot find it in yourself to abandon your seat, to allow your eyes leave your phone for even a second.

The call comes long after you’ve stopped expecting it, and you pick up in an instant, index finger sliding on the screen.

“Hello?”

“They’re gone,” Suga’s voice comes through the phone, thick and tired. “We’ve run them out of the district. Gonna stay a bit to ensure no one comes back but—” There are some intelligible words coming from behind him. “By the time we arrived, they had barricaded themselves in a bar,” he sighs after barking an order you don't catch. “It took a while.”

“I see,” you say. “Are there many losses on either side?”

“Lots of wounded on ours, a few dead.” And then, with cold, furious satisfaction: “On their side, everyone.”

“Good,” you reply, and you surprise yourself with how sincerely you mean it. “I will call for an emergency meeting tomorrow. Will you and Mr Jeon be able to attend it, or have you been injured severely? Do you need me to call one of our doctors?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other side of the line.

“We’ll make it,” he finally answers. “But yeah, send someone to Jungkook’s place.”

Your heart jumps painfully in your chest, and you have to steel yourself to stop your voice from wavering.

“Is he alright?”

“He'll be fine,” Suga just says, and though it does nothing to calm your worry, you drop the subject. It should be enough to you, knowing that he’s alive and mostly okay.

It isn’t.

“Good. In that case, I will see you both tomorrow.”

The second the call ends, you’re getting up from your chair, Hector already on his feet.

“There’s a car waiting for you, and I’ve had men check out your apartment, ma’am.”

You nod at him thankfully. For a second, at the door, you think you’re going to falter, that your legs won’t be able to carry you any further. But they do, they always do, taking you one step further even when you feel you cannot, simply because you have to.

And they will carry you tomorrow as well, and the day after that, and the day after that. Never once allowing you to collapse.

The atmosphere is crackling with tension when you walk back into that very same room the next day. In a glance, you verify that every person who you had thought would answer the call yesterday, based on the new developments, is here. A sigh of relief bubbles in your throat, but you keep it contained as you make your way through the room, setting your computer down next to the place where Jungkook would soon be sitting.

The faces around the table are all more or less familiar, but their dark expressions are not. Fred Lucas’s signature smile has been wiped from his face, the corner of his lips pointing downwards. His usually impeccable suit is crinkled, and dark circles seem to have been dug under his eyes. He looks like he’s taken on ten years in the last night. He doesn't even bother nodding at you.

Most of the other humans here are more or less in the same state, but some of the hybrids look significantly worse for wear. They have to be the ones that joined Suga and Jungkook the night before, several of them sporting significant injuries. Your eyes land on Junho, and you instinctively dig your nails into your palm to stop yourself from flinching. You can see a compress on his neck, coming out from underneath a black shirt, but he doesn’t seem to be doing too badly.

You find some comfort in it — not because of him, but because in that sight, you find some hope that Jungkook won’t be doing too bad either.

“You got a problem?” he snarls, baring his teeth at you and you realize in horror that you’ve been staring.

This doesn’t happen to you. This never happens to you and, fuck, this is why you can’t ever let your guard down. Fear sets your veins on fire, and though your mouth opens, you have no idea what to reply.

Shit. Shit.

“I’m sorry you got injured,” your tongue miraculously answers even as your brain remains frozen, and you’re thankful for the years of training you have in this. He growls, pushing himself up on the chair. The movement seems fluid and easy, confirming your impression that he isn’t too severely injured, but this time you don’t let yourself get caught in that thought. Instead you brace for impact, straightening your back. You know that it’s your voice that set him off, that it was too flat and even, that it didn’t carry any concern. You also know that Hector is staring at you, just waiting for a nod from you to intervene, and that Fred Lucas’s hand has come to rest lightly on his belt, near the gun you’ve been informed he’s carrying by security.

The fear doesn’t quite leave you, but you’re not afraid of him anymore.

“Listen to me you—”

“Fucking drop it, Junho,” Jungkook’s tired voice orders as he walks in through the door.

“She just—”

“Welcome back, Mr. Jeon,” you interrupt him, bowing your head in his direction politely.

Your eyes meet his when you look up. Your gazes lock for a second, and your legs almost go weak from the overwhelming relief that washes over you. You only allow yourself a second to take him in fully, to see for yourself that, though he walks with a small limp, one hand over his abdomen, he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

He’s still staring at you with an undecipherable expression once you’re done with your brief check.

“If you would please take a seat,” you say, and you don't know if your ears are deceiving you or if your voice is indeed softer in that moment, “there is a lot we have to cover today. The sooner we can start, the better.”

“Sure,” he says and, despite his obvious injuries, he makes his way through the room with wide strides, letting himself fall on the chair next to you with a groan. Suga leans against the door, golden eyes watching over everything. He gives you a nod so small you think you might have imagined it. You certainly cannot think of anything you would have done to earn it, but you suppose events like what happened last night would have that kind of effect.

You press a key on your computer, and a slide appears behind you.

“For an overview of what happened last night—”

“What I’m saying is that you don't win a fucking war with fucking Powerpoints—”

“If you had two working fucking braincells, you’d see that we need to know the situation we’re in before we decide on—”

“None of you now what it’s like to actually fight your own fucking—”

“You’ve been in this position for two goddamn—”

You’re not sure why Jungkook is letting the argument unfold, insults shouted from across the room as no one listens to the answer nor seems particularly interested in reaching a productive decision. Mr. X would not have let that slide, you know that, but you also realize that no one would have dared raise their voice in his presence. Mere suggestions were uttered begrudgingly, as even some of the most powerful people in the Organization cowered in front of him. His word was law, and he didn’t hesitate to use that to pit people against each other.

You wonder for a second if that is what Jungkook is doing too, letting the tension build, dividing to conquer, but it doesn't seem to be the case. He doesn’t look amused by the situation, dark eyes attentive to everything going on in the room — for once, certainly more focused than you are. Slumped in his chair, probably to protect his injured side, you notice his fingers tapping on the table at a fast rhythm.

“Will you be taking on more security?” you ask quietly, knowing that it likely won’t be picked up on by the hybrids in the room, considering the degree of agitation.

He throws you a surprised glance, eyebrows scrunching either in confusion or from being torn away from the spectacle, you can’t tell.

“Why would I do that?”

“There will likely be more attempts against your life from now on,” you reply. “Having a couple of guards should deter some and ensure that you remain safe.”

“I can do that myself,” he says, though not quite with anger. “If anyone should take on more security, it’s you.”

You think of the gun that’s in your purse at this very moment, that you checked before leaving your apartment was filled with ammunitions, even though you’ve not once emptied it, and then you glance at Hector, who is surveilling the situation, arms folded over his large torso. You don't think anyone could keep you safer than he can, but that’s not what you tell Jungkook.

“That might be a good idea indeed,” you nod. “I will look into it as soon as we’ll have decided on a course of action here. I can also look for some men for you in the process.”

His frown deepens, a flash of anger in his eyes, and he opens his mouth, obviously ready for a sharp retort, before closing it again to study you. Under the attention, you feel your face growing warm. You have no idea what he’s looking for, but you’re all too aware of the way his eyes search yours, roaming over your expression like there is some sign in there that he cannot find. Finally, he leans back in his seat with an annoyed sigh and closes his eyes.

“You need to stop interfering in my business. I’ll have Yoongi around, and that’ll be more than enough.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You should drop it.

“Would you consider having at least one additional man until your injuries heal?”

If it were up to you, he wouldn't leave the building without a full escort, but you’re— you’re trying, dammit.

“It’ll be fine in a couple of days, the knife didn’t go that d—”

“The knife?”

His eyes snap open at your tone, and you're not quick enough to school your features back to normal. He catches something on your face this time, though you’re not sure what — could be shock, could be fear, could be sadness or anything else — but again, there’s that spark of satisfaction in his eyes, and you feel yourself retreating immediately.

“Suga didn’t inform me of that,” you say, voice as emotionless as ever. “I suppose it’s—”

“Just— get me the dude. Or dudes. I don't care. I’ll get rid of them when I’m healed.”

It’s your turn to try to find something in his expression and to fail. You just can't seem to understand what he's doing these days, but you bite back the question you desperately want to ask. This is a positive in your book, and it’s probably better not to ask.

“I… will,” you finally say with a slow nod, unsure of what just happened there and unable to make sense of it. His eyes don’t leave yours, but his expression falters.

“Do you—”

“Listen to me you son of a bitch, you don’t get to—”

You both snap back to the room, in which two men have almost come to blows. One of them holds the other by the collar, while that one is reaching for something in his pocket that has to be either a knife or a gun. Just as you open your mouth, Suga appears between the two and they suddenly let go of each other without him having to say a word. He looks small, both in frame and in height, between the two, but you remember the day he took out some of Mr. X’s best men too well to underestimate him based on that.

“Alright,” Jungkook says, “what’ve you got, Yoongi?”

“No one’s expecting us to counter-attack this quickly, so I say we go for it,” Suga shrugs, and some in the room holler in approval while others grimace and shake their heads. “But we should only go against one district for now. After last night, it’d be suicide to do anything else. We have the city pretty well mapped out, so I say we try to eat at them slowly for the time being, then see what happens.”

Jungkook nods, then glances at you.

“What about you?”

One blink, and the surprise you feel at the question is gone.

“The casinos will be under heavy surveillance,” you say, “so they should be avoided for now. Based on the intel we got, it seems last night’s attack came from some of the Families that are mostly involved in the protection business, so it would make sense to go after them first. Some inner reorganization will also need to be done to ensure drugs are still being passed smoothly and ideally to block the supply for the other side. I can start looking into that.”

“Alright. Junho?”

The shark hybrid starts to answer, followed, one by one, by all the people present in the room. You scribble some notes down, watch Jungkook shoot down some ideas, tell people who to work with, and you certainly notice the glances exchanged by the people who, like you, were used to working with Mr. X. Though some seem skeptical, none appear to view it as a sign of weakness, which is a good sign.

The meeting is starting to fizzle out — roles have been attributed for the most part, only a few details remain to be explained — when a security guard walks in.

Immediately, a room full of some of the most dangerous people in the city, if not the country, spin around to glare at him, and he takes a cautious step back.

“Um, ma’am,” he says, looking somewhat relieved once he’s found you, “I have someone downstairs who says they have business with a Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook sits up straight, and you hold back a curse. You’ll need to tell them to give the information to you in private next time.

“And who’s that person?”

“A lady called… Anna Xanders?”

Great. Great.

As Anna makes her way towards the conference room, the only people left inside waiting are yourself, Suga and Jungkook. You wish he hadn’t allowed her in the building, but you hadn’t made that opinion known, all too aware of the fact that it wouldn’t be well received. He was the one who had asked the two of you to stay, though, and that meant that you had to fight every fiber of your body to stop yourself from fidgeting. Above all, there was the creeping fear that he’d go back to the Circle after meeting with her, when he was in no state to do so.

Suga looked unbothered, but then again, so did you. Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed perfectly relaxed, and you supposed that had to be somewhat close to what he was really feeling.

“You shouldn’t be seeing her,” Suga says flatly. “Unless you want me to kill her.”

If that was the case, she should be taken to a remote location first. You didn't want that happening in the building. It would be a pain to get cleaned up.

“I’m not killing her,” Jungkook replies, rolling his eyes. “Just want to know what she has to say.”

You suppose in any normal situation, that would be good news, but in this case God do you wish he wanted to kill her.

Through the opaque glass, you make out her silhouette, leaving you a few seconds more to prepare yourself. One deep breath, one more attempt at getting rid of the surprisingly strong emotions swirling in your stomach, and then she opens the door.

She’s wearing all black, save for a long, elegant white scarf. She’s still carrying that look of hurt dignity, head held high, blonde hair falling down on her shoulders and behind her back. It must be so easy to fall for it, hook line and sinker, you think. Maybe if you made yourself look hurt, you would benefit from people’s sympathy as well.

Or maybe you would be dead.

“Jungkook,” she says, and then she releases a shaky little breath that makes her look weak under the strength she’s trying to present, and you refrain from rolling your eyes.

She is just as in control of herself as you are.

“Anna,” he replies, and you’re relieved that he at least doesn’t look impressed nor moved by the spectacle. He just looks somewhat— bored. “What do you want?”

There’s a look of hurt on her face at his direct approach, but she conceals it quickly.

“I— I heard about what happened last night,” she says softly. “I just wanted to check on you. I know— I know you haven’t replied to me and you probably don’t want to see me, but I— I just needed to know you were alright.”

You clench your teeth, unusual rage constricting your chest. Surely he’ll know that she didn’t once check on him when he was at the Circle, surely he’ll see through—

“Replied to you?” he asks, rising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, haven’t you…?”

You certainly don’t miss the tiniest spark of satisfaction in her eyes, even if she glances down to the floor to hide it. Jungkook glances in your direction with a frown.

“Anything suspect must have been thrown away,” you reply with a shrug. Not a truth, but not a lie either.

“Surely flowers aren’t suspect,” Anna says, and though her voice remains soft, you know that she’s annoyed, probably less because of your interference than because it means you have power over her. You’ve always been beneath her, at her beck and call. Now, she is the one who’s nothing.

“They’re an inconvenience to hybrids if they smell too strongly,” you say.

“But the engraved knife wasn’t,” Anna adds, sounding just a little too triumphant, and you annoyingly miss a beat to answer her, unsure what she’s talking about. A knife…?

“Oh, yeah, we assumed it was probably a threat,” Yoongi drawls from the other side of the table. “Figured there was no reason to bother the boss with it.”

Anna’s quick to mask her defeat, letting a small, soft ‘Oh’, while Jungkook rolls his eyes once more — but you’d swear you saw a grin on his lips.

“Next time, just transfer it,” he says. “I can deal with that shit. What d’you want?”

“Right, sorry, I— I just wish you and I could talk. There’s— so much I never got the chance to tell you, and I— I think I could help you with some of the issues you’ve been having. Many people are quite loyal to me, because of my father, you know. I’m sure I could have some sway over them and ensure that you and— and everyone remains safe. If that’s something you’d like, of course.”

Of course, your first thought is that this offer should be rejected. Anna should not be trusted, not in any scenario. The second one is more… puzzled. You know for a fact that she wasn’t very involved in the Organization, even if she very much enjoyed the money and status her father’s identity offered her. Could she have been approached by people? Was she trying to test the waters, to see who the highest bidder would be?

There was not much loyalty towards Mr. X, just fear — in most circles. Those who were loyal, you should be able to look into fairly easily. Maybe that was something you should get on, when you’d get a second.

“Yeah, that may be a good thing,” Jungkook says, and you jolt back to the present scene just in time to avoid throwing him a horrified look. Instead, you slowly tilt your head in his direction. Nothing. He’s not smiling, doesn’t look particularly annoyed either.

“There are other ways to gain loyalty,” Suga comments, and you know Jungkook also hears the dangerous, warning edge in his voice. Clearly, he wants this as little as you do.

“And we'll look into them as well,” Jungkook says, tone final. “What do you say? Do you want to schedule a meeting?”

A lovely blush colors Anna's cheeks, and she coyly pushes a lock of hair behind her ear.

You could rip her face off.

“How about having dinner together?”

Again, no emotions from Jungkook.

“That works too.” He glances at you. “Think you can find a time?”

“You’re going to be quite busy from now on,” you say, mostly stalling to swallow down anger, worry, and other things you don’t want to dwell on. “But I suppose I could arrange for you to have some time free next week.”

“Oh,” Anna says, softly, “this might be urgent, don’t you think you—”

“Next week it is then,” Jungkook interrupts her, giving a nod of approval in your direction. “We’ll handle the details.” Then he lifts his chin to point at the door. “You know the way.”

She presses her lips in disappointment, but that fades in favor of the victory she’s just gained — and which she knows she’s just gained over two of Jungkook’s closest advisors. Suga is obviously seething, and she knows you well enough to be able to tell. You can only watch as she exits the room.

She’s good enough of an actress not to smile until she’s out of sight.

“You two don’t get to decide that shit for me,” Jungkook’s voice resonates in the silence that follows. You expected anger, but there’s none there.

“We wouldn’t have to if you made good fucking decisions,” Suga hisses. “What the fuck are you doing? We’re not taking her in. She’d have sold her own fucking father to make it that day.”

“I know.”

“Then what—”

“My problem. Not yours.”

There’s a growl, and then Suga’s storming out, leaving you alone with Jungkook. Not a situation you want to be in right now, so you bow politely in his direction.

“If you'll excuse me, Mr. Jeon, I—”

“Why’d you hide the roses from me?”

He’s just asking, you see it in his eyes. The lie, or the half-truth, that you didn’t want him to ally himself with her, comes to you easily, fully formed. But it’s not what ends up making it past your lips.

“Last time you heard from her, you had to be picked up from a bar, where you got into a fight with a customer after hours upon hours of fighting at the Circle. I don’t believe that she is... good for you, Mr. Jeon.”

There’s more, too, but that will have to do for the moment. Even now, your entire body is screaming at you that you shouldn't have revealed that much about yourself, and there’s nothing you can do to calm your thundering heart.

Jungkook stares at you, then speaks slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully.

“I won’t do it this time.”

“Certainly,” you nod, “I’m sorry I—”

“No, I— I won’t do it this time. Seriously.”

You don't know what to say to that. You haven’t got a clue. What you do know is that Jungkook is looking straight into your eyes, your heart is pounding in your chest, and you’re sure that you're letting things show on your face that shouldn’t be here.

So you don't say anything — don't trust your voice, really, not when the rest of your body is failing you treacherously —, nod.

And then you flee.

If you could avoid it, you don't think you would leave the office at all in the days that follow. You have considered transforming one of the offices into a small bedroom anyway, it’s always good to ensure there is place for people to rest — or to discreetly operate on someone who cannot go to a hospital because the wounds would raise too many questions — and in the current circumstances, anytime someone highly ranked in the Organization takes a step outside, they are putting their lives in danger.

Of course, everyone else is aware of that, and none of them would limit themselves in such a fashion, but the difference is that you hear about everything. Every attack is brought back to you, whether it is threats hurled at someone from across the road, a stabbing in an alleyway, or a car chase on the freeway. If someone switches allegiance, you’re the one who writes it down and updates the relevant people. If there’s a shootout, if a car burns down, if a gun goes missing—

You. It all comes back to you.

You suppose it makes sense, then, that you are the one who wants to take the most precaution to protect your life, though you know others are doing it as well. Fred, you’ve heard, doesn’t stray outside of the area he has full control over. You’ve also been told that even Junho has barely been seen outside of the hybrid district, not even showing up to the Circle. They could afford that, but you still had to leave your apartment every morning to take your car — was anywhere more dangerous than these metal boxes these days — and get to work.

Yet you kept doing it.

It wasn’t that you thought they couldn't get to you, you were nowhere near that naive. You had reinforced your security, were always followed by a second car, and you had men keep an eye on your apartment day and night, but even then you knew issues could arise. Corruption, carefully planned attacks, or even sheer bad luck, everything was possible and there was no way of accounting for it all. It had worked out for you so far, which you took as a sign that you were doing your job well, but it could all change at the drop of a hat.

It wasn’t some stupid, self-sacrificial decision either. You supposed some people in this new version of the Organization might see it that way, those who were loyal to Jungkook to the death. Thinking that there was something ‘noble’ about putting their lives on the line. The idea could almost rip a laugh out of you. There was nothing noble about your job, no matter who you were working for. You were receiving word of enough stabbings, arsons and grand larceny coming from your side not to have any illusions on the topic.

You were also fully aware of how important your role was in the Organization at the moment. You had tried to make yourself indispensable earlier, and now you were, without most of your previous efforts having played much of a role in that. It seemed that you shone through specifically in times of crisis. If something happened to you right now, you would not be replaced easily. And yet, every morning and every evening, you still stepped out of the towering glass building that was the current headquarters, and went back to your apartment.

Because, once more, it all came down to the image you were giving.

If the number three of the Organization didn’t dare to walk outside, if she didn't trust her own men to protect her, if she didn't believe that she was powerful enough to protect at least herself, then what was the rest of them to do? Lie down and await death?

You had even hesitated before taking on additional protection, only allowing yourself to do so because you thought that Jungkook’s presence and his very visible confidence in the people that surrounded him could counteract the fear that that decision would display coming from you.

‘Thought’. Ha.

The right word would be ‘felt’, but you didn’t make decisions based on feelings. You never did.

You weren’t going to start now, were you?

If you felt uneasy going to and then coming back from work, that was nothing compared to way your agitation spiked when you travelled through town with Jungkook. The two of you being together like that, that made you the easiest, most interesting preys, like pheasants’ release on the opening day of the hunting season.

You could explain the decision by pointing to the image it gave once again, but you weren’t sure if that wasn’t crossing the line between confidence and simple stupidity. Maybe you should have fought Jungkook harder on it, but the truth was you had barely brought it up. Because if you were in the car with him, even if that put the both of you at risk, it at least meant that you didn’t have to spend your days in fear of the phone call that would tell you he’d died.

What was wrong with you these days, you couldn’t have explained.

At least, as he’d told you, he had mostly healed from his injuries in less than a week, which allowed him to sit comfortably across from you, back straight, legs spread, as he looked out at the city with the eyes of a man who knew he owned most of it. His long ears were, as always, skillfully hidden underneath a discreet, black hairband. It made you wonder how much of his behavior was a façade. He was, clearly, at least as aware of the importance of the image he gave as you were.

You weren’t faring quite as well as him, though. You knew that, despite your best efforts and your years of work, there was tension vibrating through you that you couldn’t quite hide. It was in the slightly too quick cadence of your voice, in your movements that were just a touch too jerky, in the glances you were constantly throwing around the car — rear-view mirror first, then windshield, then left and right windows.

There had been two attempts against the two of you since the war had begun. Both had been easily thwarted, and none of them involved firearms, but you knew it was a question of when, not if.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you're thankful that you at least don’t jump at that, but you’re still too quick at looking in his direction.

Dammit. You need to get your rhythm under control.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

He rolls his eyes, you think at the name you use rather than at you. You don't know what he wants you to do with that. He’s the one that asked you to call him that.

“I know you don’t do chill, but seriously, you’re going to explode if you keep it up.”

“There’s a war going on, Mr Jeon.” You think you manage not to sound reproachful. You wouldn’t want him to be in the same state you are. You just can’t help yourself.

“I’m aware,” he replies and, where an explosion would have occurred just a couple of months ago, there’s only a frown on his face. “This still isn't helping.”

Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re allowing yourself a deep breath. When you do, when you brain starts screaming at you, asking you what the fuck is going on, you’ve already done it, and all you can do to try and save face is stop yourself from freezing like a deer in headlights.

Jungkook is just looking at you. You see something twitch in his jaw, his fists clenching, and then he’s the one who looks away, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.

“You might be right,” you say, dropping the usual ‘Mr. Jeon’ but unable to bring yourself to call him Jungkook, “but this has kept me alive so far. I— have no reason to believe that anything else would do the same.”

He closes his eyes shut for a second, then he looks back at you. His elbow is resting on the window, thumb hovering a few millimeters from his lips. He looks at you — really looks at you, takes you all in — and you feel a now familiar burn spreading over your body. You have no idea if he can tell.

Right now, you're not even quite sure whether you want him to or not.

He opens his mouth.

And that is you catch movement from the corner of your eye, and before you can turn your head, shock explodes through the car and then it's spent spinning.

Your hand shoots for the handle and you hold on to it desperately, eyes tightly shut, pulled back against the seat with bruising force by your seatbelt. You hear the window exploding, feel the tiny cuts the shards of glass leave on your skin, hear Jungkook curse, the smell of burning tires reaches your nose, your stomach lurches in your chest, and then it stops, but there is no time for the ringing silence to settle. By the time you manage to open your eyes, heart pounding so loud you think it might escape from your rib cage, there’s shouting outside, and then Jungkook’s pulling your head down as shots start to ring.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth, hand still in your hair, as his body forms a shield between you and the direction the shots are coming from — you think, you’re too disoriented to tell at the moment, but he seems not to hesitate. What does hit you in that moment, when you inhale, trying to bring air into your frozen lungs, is the earthy smell coming from him, touches of pine, probably from his soap, and something musky that is definitely him.

If you could slap yourself for losing the precious second that thought takes to formulate, you would, but at least the rush of something that this proximity sends through your body easily blends with everything else happening at the moment, and Jungkook doesn't seem to notice.

“We’re followed by another car,” you manage to say, though the words stumble out of your mouth way too fast, “they should take action—”

“Yeah, but we still need to get out of here,” he growls. “We’re too good of a target. They’ll get brave and get closer any time now.”

You have to take his word for it. You’ve never been in that kind of situation before. Adrenaline is running through your veins almost painfully and you feel your fight or flight reaction kicking in — with one hundred percent of your energy going towards ‘flight’. One glance in the direction of the driver tells you that he’s slumped over the wheel, possibly unconscious, but likely dead.

You should probably feel more at that thought than annoyance at the fact that you’re going to have to replace him, but truth is if you felt sadness over every death that happened in this city, you would have crumpled a long time ago.

The loud screeching of tires on concrete outside tells you that the reinforcements have arrived.

“Alright,” Jungkook says. “That should buy us some time.”

For the first time, he looks down at you. Your heart flutters inappropriately — oh my God, just shut the fuck up — when you meet his eyes, but all it solidifies is the fact that he, unlike you, knows exactly what he's doing. In that moment, you don’t doubt for a second that, if you make it out alive, it will be thanks to him.

He kicks open the door behind him, the one facing away from all the turmoil. One of his hands holds a vice-like grip on your wrist, pulling with him in that direction. You stumble after him, your heels wholly unadapted for the situation, and crouch behind the car as he glances over it to surveil what’s happening.

The shots, briefly interrupted by the arrival of the second car, are picking up again, and with them your heart rate. You manage to take in the surroundings, but there isn’t much to be gained from it. It’s a quiet area by the river, long stretches of concrete and not a soul in sight.

You’ll have to do a better job at keeping to more populated areas.

“I think they only have one car,” Jungkook tells you, crouching back down next to you.

“So do we, for now,” you say with a frown. You have enough safety protocols in place to think that the men that are here must have called for help the second they saw something was wrong, but for now the forces are pretty much in equal number.

Which means that you’re stranded next to wrecked car, on a road on which nothing can move at the moment. The two of you might as well be sitting ducks.

Your phone buzzes and you fish it out of the purse that you have somehow kept in your clenched fist this whole time. As you open your hand, you grimace slightly at the traces your fingernails have left inside your palm. Shit. You didn’t even notice that.

Right next to your phone, you feel your gun. You've never used it in this kind of situation, and your fingers hesitate, hovering above the grip for a second before you decide against it. You'll still have it, should you need it, but it just feels so small and useless out here in the open, with shots and shouts ringing behind you, that you don’t want to give yourself some false comfort by holding on to it.

Your phone, on the other hand, is your life line in any situation, this one included, because on the screen, you see displayed four names and telephone numbers.

Someone is getting a raise this month.

Jungkook frowns, nose scrunching, when you type a reply, and even more when you press the dial button and bring the phone to your ear.

“There’s more important—”

“Who is this?” a voice groans on the other side. Even if it's hard to tell with all the noise, you think you're hearing the shots echoed through the speaker.

“Mr. Lee,” you say, “I recommend you stop shooting at us.”

There’s a silence, during which you glance at Jungkook, who now looks at least somewhat impressed.

“That’s— Wha— How d’you— How d’you know—”

As the man tries to find his words — and you don't doubt that he must be feeling sheer terror at the idea that you even know his name — you see Jungkook lifting up his head suddenly, one of his long ears, which slipped out of the bandana in the turmoil, twitching. You try to catch a glance of what’s happening, but you see nothing. He’s either smelling or hearing something you can’t, but it makes him nod decisively before leaning towards you.

“Keep him talking, and don't move from here,” he whispers in your ear, breath warm against your skin. You tell yourself that everything is just heightened in that moment, that every sensations are stronger, and that that is the only reason why your skin tingles where his hair brushes against it. Even then, you're thankful he leaves immediately after, quietly getting around the car, so he doesn't see the slow way you swallow after that, or the slow breath you let out.

It almost pained you, to have him so close to you, and even if you don't have time to think about it, even you are starting to realize what is happening within yourself.

“Mr. Lee,” you keep going nonetheless, compartmentalizing like it’s second nature — because it is —, pulling up the additional informations you’ve just been sent, “please think about what your sister would think about what you're doing right now.”

“Don’t you fucking dare—”

“She’s a school teacher,” you continue. “She sounds like a good person. So does Mr. Kang’s wife— a nurse, isn’t she?”

You think you should feel disgusted with yourself, right about now, but there’s only place for cold determination within you. You know that you would never go after anyone for their familial relationships, and that is enough for you. They don’t seem to know. Probably would, if they’d done their research, it’s something that’s been whispered about for quite some time in the Organization, but they’ve either been sent without any information, or foolishly saw this opportunity as a way to climb up in the ranks.

Either way, what a waste.

“And Mr. Min has two young children, isn't that sweet.”

A curse, and then he shouts a name.

“I’ll make you eat your fucking heart if you hurt them, you fucking bitch,” another voice yells in the phone, and you just stare into the dark, cold waters that stretch in front of you. None of these men will be getting back to their family alive. Even if they manage to kill you, you doubt they'll escape this place. “You’re just scared,” he adds, and you blink. You should be scared, he’s right, but you mostly feel empty. “You didn't even have to be in there. Could have just picked the right fucking side instead of being a hybrid’s whore. I swear to God, if you touch my kids, we’ll—”

“Mr. Min, I already have men on their way to your house,” you interrupt him. “The sooner you surrender, the sooner I can call off my orders.”

On the other side, a number of muffled ‘fuck’, and then a brief exchange between the group. You don't think the others will back up, and it's only a matter of time before they get desperate, but for now you get a second to try to see what’s happening — and, ideally, spot your boss.

It’s when you do that you see Suga, crouched on top of the car. Based on the way the men are talking amongst themselves, they have no clue he's here.

“I’ll get your head on a fucking spi—”

Things don’t last very long once Suga springs into action. The first kill is quick and messy, knife slicing into one of the men's throat, twice, back and forth. Blood splatters all over the floor and you wince in disgust. By the time he falls to his knees, Suga's already moved on to the next one. He gets a little more time to protect himself, but the killer’s movements are too fast. His hands wrap around his neck and he squeezes with inhuman strength.

As he struggles, the other two seem to regain their focus and start to take aim at him.

It only lasts a second before Jungkook is on them. He’s slower than Suga, but there’s also more power in his movements. His fist catches the first man’s jaw as the other hand rips the machine gun — where the fuck did they get that from — out of his hands. By the time the fourth man has spun around, he’s balancing on one leg, his foot coming up to kicking him in the chest and sending him reeling for several steps.

The gun spins in his hands, and then he's using the grip to hit the man he punched, still standing. It only takes three strikes before he falls, you think, but Jungkook lands a few more before he hits the ground. When he turns around, there’s no amusement on his face, unlike what you were used to see when he was at the Circle. There's just determination and anger, maybe, if you’re reading him correctly — an ability you’ve been doubting lately.

The only man left doesn’t stand a chance, but even then, Jungkook doesn’t drag the fight on any longer than he needs to. There are, you suspect, some unnecessary punches, done more to inflict pain than anything else — these ones get the man in the stomach, have him keeling over and spitting out blood — but really, it’s all over in a few minutes.

The guy Yoongi had been strangling is also down for the count.

Jungkook and him are the only ones left standing.

There’s a brief exchange of glances between them, then a nod, and Jungkook gestures at the men on your side, who are slowly coming out of the second car. You suspect that this was a baptism of fire for them, used to blades and fists, but much less so to the kind of guns these guys had been operating; one of them remains in the car, likely wounded and you see Suga walking over to them.

You get on your feet as well. Your brain seems to have a hard time registering the fact that the threat is gone, your muscles feel too tight to move. As you take your first step, you feel pain shooting up your leg.

Shit. You hadn’t noticed you’d hurt your ankle.

But that doesn't stop you from making your way over to the group. You’ll have it checked out later, you don’t think you’ll have a choice, but for now you’d rather people not know about it.

“Why did it take you so long to intervene?” Jungkook’s snarling by the time you arrive.

“We had to turn around,” one of the men, a tall, lean cat-hybrid replies. “They knew which car you were in.”

“And how the fuck would they—”

“We have moles on their side,” you offer as you come to stand next to him, “it’s no wonder they would too.” You don’t add that, while it could have been someone at HQ, it could just as easily be one of these men. If it is the case, you don't want the mole to do something desperate right now.

Jungkook’s eyes scan you briefly. Aside from your ankle, you think you only have minor injuries. He gives a sigh of relief, or maybe he’s just breathless from the fight.

“For now,” you continue, “we need to get out of here. The police will want to interrogate us, I’ll let you know what story we’ll be going for later, but we can't be caught—”

“Watch out!”

From the way the men rush out of the way, you have to assume the threat comes behind you, but your reflexes aren’t anywhere near as fast as the hybrid’s, and as you turn your head, catching sight of the car, the thought occurs to you, clear as day, as while it rushes towards you.

This is how it ends.

Honestly, you’d feared worst.

Much to your surprise, your body forces you to lunge forward, survival instinct kicking in where you thought you had none left. Your bad ankle just does not have the strength you need to make it completely out of the way, though, and you make yourself no illusions. At least, though, you go out trying to survive.

You hadn’t thought you would.

And then arms close around you and you’re pulled forward, barely hearing the scream of effort it takes over the roaring of the engine.

You blink at the car that goes past you, see it crashing one last time in the low concrete wall that runs alongside the river. The driver collapses on the wheel, and then Yoongi’s running past you, no doubt ensuring that he doesn’t move again. He makes it quick.

In your world, that is no small mercy.

But you don't get to think about that, not when the heat coming from Jungkook’s body is spreading through yours and when his hands grab your shoulders tightly as wide, panicked eyes search yours.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

You can’t do anything but nod.

He’s gripping you tightly, fingers digging into your skin, and he looks— he looks terrified. You don't know what to do with that.

So you lower your gaze, clear your throat. One of you has to keep their head on their shoulders.

“I’m alright.”

Still no ‘Mr. Jeon’.

“We need to leave this place.”

As you say that, you raise an arm, brush your fingers over the back of his hand. He jumps at the feeling, glances down at you even as you let your arm fall back down again, then back to your face. His gaze drops to your lips — you think — and then he takes a step back.

“Yeah. You're right, I just— fuck. I thought he was out for the count. I’m sorry.”

“You've saved my life twice today,” you say — softly, you think, but it’s hard to tell. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

“Still, I—”

“Jungkook. Thank you.”

He looks conflicted, but then he sighs and gestures for you to get in the car.

In the crowded vehicle, you allow yourself a second to close your eyes. His arm, tense as bowstring, is brushing against you, and for a second, there’s just static in your brain, just exhaustion and his warmth that’s transferring to you.

Soon, of course, you go back to the planning, to the things you’ll need to change to ensure this doesn’t happen again, to everything that is to come and everything that needs to be done, the never ending list unfolding neatly in your mind.

But there is a second of quiet first. A second where, for once, you don’t try to fight the complicated feelings that have been going through you lately and where you almost — almost, but not quite — let yourself melt against the man who’s saved your life twice today.

So there it is. Uh. This might be the fastest chapter I've written as well as the longest. I did use a different writing method for this one so I don't know how this worked out. Because I wrote it on the heels of the last one, I was still in 'OC's voice', so it wasn't as hard to get back into it. I also wrote a lot more regularly. So... yeah, I would love it if you'd let me now how you feel about this, and hopefully getting another chapter in less than a month isn't too much of a shock for you lol. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jjk #hybrid jungkook #bts mafia au #bts hybrid au #candywrites #if i can never give you peace #iicngyp

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beloved-calypso · 1 year

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‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡ 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖔 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖊?・゜ ʚɞ ゜゜♡ ・゜ ʚɞ ゜゜

♡𝒫𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒶 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒. 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈?♡

All pictures and gifs are not mine.♡

I. -> II. -> III.

2ɴᴅ ᴘᴀᴄ! ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ'ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ɢᴏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ. ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘɪᴄᴋ-ᴀ-ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ! ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ɪ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴢᴇ ɪɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴏʀ ᴘᴜɴᴄᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ. ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ. ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴜᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛ.

~ XOXO 💋🎀

PILE 1 🌸

3 OF PENTACLES, QUEEN OF WANDS, 10 OF SWORDS

Pile 1, I think when you go out, you are usually with a group of people or are around friends. You're rarely alone and come off as busy and in your own world. People see you in social groups and admire how you stand out from the crowd. Your smile is bright and joyful, and you come off as confident and independent. People can tell you have a certain zest for life and are somewhat free spirited.

People may think that you smile because you are well-off and generally content with your life. They could see that you have a strong support system, whether that be friends and/or family, and that you don't need much else. Your smile is a very happy one, and I think you're at a time in your life where you're taking action in building the life you want and establishing your stability.

PILE 2 🌸

8 OF CUPS, 6 OF PENTACLES, 4 OF WANDS|extras-(THE SUN,10 OF PENTACLES)

Funny enough, I got all these piles cards face down and had to flip them over, so you either don't smile much or people think you are hiding something beneath your smile. I think you're stuck on something Pile 2, and you're reserving your energy. This situation could be where someone had power over you or took advantage of your kindness. Whatever the context to your situation, I think your ego or emotions were hurt, and you're keeping to yourself, and people can sense that you are going through a hard time.

For those who do see you smile, they perceive it as big, warm, and bright. I tried to pull an extra card and accidentally got 2 (don't tell the other piles), and you got the most positive card in the deck! So your emotions and spirit definitely radiate through your smile. Try to keep a positive mindset! You may have also been manifesting something big, and whatever it is, I think you'll have reason to celebrate soon!

PILE 3 🌸

THE WORLD, STRENGTH, 4 OF SWORDS (RX)

There's a quiet power to you pile 3. With 2 major arcana cards, you leave quite the impression! People can tell that you are starting a fresh chapter in your life. It's like you're smiling at everyone because you've just gone through a huge milestone, or you're preparing to start a new one.

Your smile speaks of satisfaction and serenity. It comes across as gentle but has a hidden power to it. I think you have a very healing aura, and people feel calm around you, and I think it's because you've done some good, inner self work. You're trying to attract peace and positivity in your life and are clearing out any negativity or obstacles that may come your way.

#tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarot reader #tarot spread #tarotdaily #tarotblr #tarot blog #tarot cards #lolitabonita's

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verai-marcel · 1 month

Text

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 28 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

AO3 Link is here, my love.

Word Count: 2,422

——————————

Act III, Chapter 7 - The Epilogue

Five months passed in blissful domesticity. You had started a small apothecary shop which made enough money to keep you in business and build up your savings. Astarion, when he felt the whim, would make scents for you to sell. Those always seemed to sell out extremely quickly, and after the first three months, he began taking commissions. That is, when he wasn’t busy with his little adventures in the night.

Astarion had continued his little bouts of heroism. You noted that he had a penchant for going into Rivington and helping the less fortunate, getting a sort of high from sucking the life out of evil thugs and getting praised for it.

Oh, of course he lives for the praise.

You mildly wondered if some of the people he rescued had ever praised him a little too much, when he came back with an extra pep in his step.

“Did someone call you the most handsome hero in the Gate?”

He scoffed. “Please. They don’t need to say it.” Leaning against your work table, he gave you the most perfect grin. “I already know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re the most beautiful beau in all the land.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he sassed, taking off his armor and weapons. “And what is my little witch making tonight?”

“Just a new batch of potions. Bluurg and Omeluum had a fresh batch of mushrooms from the Underdark and—”

You felt a tingle of power in the air and turned around just as a dove appeared in your window, a small message box tied to it.

“Thank you,” you said as you took the letter.

~*All part of the job, ma’am,~* he said, sounding like an elderly retired officer. The dove saluted with his wing and took off.

Being able to talk to animals regularly still throws me off.

Opening the letter, you smiled. Withers’ handwriting was a bit shaky, but still elegant.

Astarion read the letter over your shoulder. “Oh.”

You turned towards him. “What do you mean, ‘oh’?”

He looked away. “I, erm, may have forgotten to let the others know that you returned.”

You sputtered for a moment in shock. “Astarion!” you screeched in annoyance.

He gave you his classic shrug. “Well, it’ll be a hell of a surprise when you show up.”

***

When you and Astarion arrived at the old camp site where Withers had set up the little soiree, you realized that you and he were the first people there. Seeing Withers waving his staff and setting up the final dishes on the table was a bit surprising.

“Wait, so you could have summoned food and drink all this time?” you asked as you came up to him.

You swear you saw a wry smirk before he returned to his usual neutral expression. “No one asked.”

You damn skeleton!

Putting on a polite smile, you asked tentatively, “Erm, do you need any help?”

“Thou hast helped enough,” he said, but not in an unkind way. “It is thy turn to relax and wait for thy meal.”

You nodded. “Well, I guess I should let you get back to it then.”

He nodded and resumed preparing the feast.

You went back to Astarion, who was perusing the selection of wines at the other end of the table.

“Found something good?”

He shook his head. “You’d think he’d find a fresh bottle of blood somewhere,” he muttered. “Does he expect me to just drink this wine?”

“I’ll feed you when we go home,” you said, patting his arm.

He suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his body. “You could feed me now. Nobody else is here—”

Suddenly you felt a tingle in your spine, right before you heard your name being yelled with jubilant glee.

Turning towards the voices, you saw a portal from Avernus close, and two familiar figures staring at you in surprise.

Without any further words, Astarion let you go as you ran to them, hugging them tightly.

“Where have you been? When did you get back?” Karlach asked in a rush of words.

You started to tell your story, but Wyll held up a hand to stop you. “I get the feeling everyone will want to hear your tale,” he said. “Perhaps you should wait until everyone is here.”

“That sounds good, otherwise I’ll be repeating myself all night.” You turned back to Astarion, who saw someone behind you and quickly walked away, pointedly poking at the decorations around the site.

You heard her before you could turn to look. “Of course he would forget to tell us.”

Looking over to Shadowheart, you saw her sassy grin and smiled back. “Of course.”

She gave you a big hug, holding you tight before pulling back to look at your face. She shot a sour glare at Astarion before giving you a brilliant smile. “Or maybe he didn’t want to share you with anyone else for a while.”

You shrugged. “Him? Selfish? Whatever do you mean?” you joked. “You look great, by the way.” You looked around. “So…”

“Oh, he’ll be here shortly. He took far too long figuring out what to wear, so I left first.”

Oh Gale, you silly man. “I didn’t expect that from him.”

As the others slowly showed up, you got a chance to catch up with everyone. It was nice, seeing how everyone had carried on after enduring the adventure of a lifetime. Jaheira and Minsc were living in Baldur’s Gate doing their own things while Halsin had moved back to Thaniel’s lands to take care of the war orphans. Lae’zel, though she appeared spectrally at the party, told you that she had been fighting the good fight against Vlaakith.

Volo had somehow found his way to the party, but when you gave a subtle nod to Withers, he suddenly found that he had somewhere else to be.

Wyll and Karlach had gone to Avernus a couple weeks after you had cast your spell on her heart engine. At least knowing that she had time to prepare, with Wyll by her side, Karlach had gone willingly, and with a goal in mind: to find a way to fix her engine. And it turned out that they had discovered some blueprints and a map to a blacksmith, nabbed from the corpse of a cambion. They had hope that they’d be able to return to Baldur’s Gate soon.

Gale finally arrived, dressed rather sharply, and you caught he and Shadowheart sharing a loving gaze before he came to greet you. You found out that he had become a professor at the wizard academy in Waterdeep. While he had mostly moved back to his tower, he had also purchased some land outside of the city for Shadowheart and her parents to start a farm and take care of orphaned animals. Of course, they had a direct portal between the tower and the farmhouse so they could visit each other whenever they wanted.

You finally told Gale why you had always dodged his questions about Waterdeep. About who your old master was, and why you had fled town. Turns out that Gale had known of the man, since he was from a well known noble family.

“So that man was actually a masked lord, huh?” Gale had shrugged. “Well, no matter. Apparently the Zhentarim have, shall we say, disposed of him, so unless you have any other dark secrets, you’re free to come visit.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. The one major thing that had been haunting you from the past was now gone for good.

Scratch had been living in Baldur’s Gate with a very nice family, but from time to time he would wander off to visit with Owly, who had been living near the outskirts of the city. You asked if perhaps the owlbear might be better off staying with Shadowheart at her farm, and realizing you had accidentally offered someone else’s home without her permission, you quickly told Shadowheart about it. Fortunately, she was delighted to take him in.

And during your conversations with each person, you confessed to them your ability to feel emotions through touch. You let them know that you had never shared anything with anyone else, and now you knew how to shield properly, so their emotions would be private. You had expected some backlash, but they all just shrugged it off as a thing in the past. It was comforting to know that all the dread you had felt about telling them was all in your head, and you need not have worried. They were your friends, after all.

“So that’s why you always wore gloves,” Karlach had said, as if she had been holding onto that mystery all this time.

Well, that wasn’t so hard to confess… Guess I didn’t need to be so anxious about it.

With everyone here, sat around the table, sharing food and drink like old times, you felt that warm, cozy feeling surround you.

I think now is the time to tell everyone what happened to me after I fell into the portal.

You cleared your throat, and immediately everyone turned to you.

“Are you going to tell us a story now?” Karlach asked excitedly.

“Have you been waiting all night?” you asked with a grin.

She nodded enthusiastically.

You looked at everyone, and their eyes were all on you.

“Alright, well, after I got thrown into the portal…”

You told your story, summarizing your year in the Feywild. High on the attention, you took a chance.

“Could I… share one of my songs with you all?”

Their enthusiasm was so overwhelming that you immediately got up and went to Milil.

He had looked at you at first with disdain, but when you had identified him as the God of song, poetry, and inspiration, he was a great deal happier. So much so, that when you asked him to play your song, he readily agreed.

“No need,” he said as you offered to scribble the notes. “Just hum a few bars and I’ll adapt to you.”

You did so, and was pleasantly surprised when he played along beautifully. Satisfied, you climbed back down from his platform, only to find that everyone had gathered around. So you stood right where you were and began to sing.

You weren’t sure how long you sang, and you also weren’t sure when you began to change. Your hair turned fiery red before it broke free from its bun and cascaded down your back, locks of it floating around you, swaying with your song. Your voice split into three harmonious layers, making you sound like a choir unto yourself. Buoyed by the magic you could feel flowing through your body, you began to dance, and the vegetation around the campsite began to glow and flutter softly, as if all of nature swayed to your melody.

By the time your song ended, your magic had formed sparkles of fae dust, scattering around as you twirled around one last time, the flecks of light dissipating into the cool night air.

You took a deep breath and bowed.

Your friends erupted in cheers.

“Amazing!”

“Brilliant!”

“Gorgeous, absolutely stunning!”

You looked at Astarion, who was standing in the back, so no one could see the soft look of love on his face.

Smiling back, you let everyone pull you back to the table for more drinks.

The night carried on, and as everyone was getting a bit more drunk, you slipped away to take a breather. Wandering into the abandoned building on the other side of the small bridge, you found Withers, who was quietly looking through a book. You didn’t recall all the bookcases here before, but perhaps he had brought them here to entertain himself while the others were partying.

Just as you were about to sneak back out, not wanting to bother him, he turned to you.

“Was it worth staying?” he asked quietly.

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“With thy companions on their journey.”

Oh. I see. You smiled. “Yes. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Astarion and the others. I wouldn’t have found my mother. I would have stayed in the dark about a lot of things, and continued to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”

Withers nodded. “Good.”

As per usual, he silently watched you as you tried to look for the right words to express yourself, but you realized perhaps that simple was best.

“Thank you, Withers.”

He stared at you for a moment. “I did nothing to warrant gratitude.”

You shrugged. “You said something just cryptic enough that made me stay. So whether it was on purpose or not, you still have my thanks.”

The skeleton’s expression changed for a mere moment, but you caught the smile before it disappeared again.

With nothing more to say, you bowed politely and began to walk away, but then he spoke once more. “Tell Lady Orla she owes me a cup of tea.”

You twirled around to stare at him in utter surprise.

Does my mother know everyone in the realms?! And what the fuck did they bet on?

Knowing that neither of them would ever tell you, you took a deep breath and let it go. “Will do,” you replied. You opened your mouth to say goodbye, but decided to change your wording. “See you later, Withers.”

Returning to the party, you found Astarion, who was being grilled by the others.

“Why didn’t you write to us that she had returned?”

He shrugged. “I may have forgotten…”

“You wanted to keep her to yourself, didn’t you?”

“Well, wouldn’t you?” he replied matter-of-factly. He turned towards you. “Look at her. She’s incredible.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “Not half as incredible as you,” you replied. “And I mean that for all of you. You’re all wonderful. I hope we meet up many more times in the future!”

Amongst the sounds of cheering and revelry, you saw Astarion holding his hand out to you, just as he always did. You took his hand and let your shield down, taking in the warmth of his emotions as he pulled you aside.

With his eyes gazing lovingly at yours, he brought your hand to his lips. “Are you happy, darling?”

You smiled warmly at him. “Yes, very much so. Are you?”

“Of course I am.” He stepped closer and pressed his forehead to yours. “You always bring my happiness with you, my love.”

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

Act III, Chapter 7 End notes: Wow, what a journey! I’m so happy to finally complete this story, and so glad that all of you have joined me on this ride. Thank you so much for reading and commenting, it really means a lot to me to hear your feedback. For now this is the end of the main story, but I’m thinking about posting a few side drabbles from Astarion’s POV, if anyone has any interest. And if I have any side ideas about our hearth witch, I’ll post them here!

Also my author’s notes and HW’s character summary are here if anyone has any interest in a peek behind the scenes.

Also full disclosure - I stole a part of that last line from a manga; I wish I had come up with that on my own. I’ve used it in other fics too, haha. I just love that line. Let me know if you can guess which manga and which character said it!

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

#bg3 #astarion #astarion x f!reader #baldur's gate 3 #writing #bg3 fanfic #female reader #bg3 spoilers #your hearth is my home

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halfmoth-halfman · 9 months

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do you have any headcannons about designer dress you can disclose? every now and then i create some of my own, but it's great finding out about the "official" ones, like why did you choose canary as mc's moniker? are we going to find out more about laswell and price? maybe gaz's mom? she seems important... what about farah's relationship with john? and some tidbits as well, like why blue? why valeria's "day job" is fashion designer? sorry the questionnaire, any piece would be great! i'm just in awe with the whole ambience you've created. much love! xx

oh i’ve got plenty of headcanons. some i won’t go into too much detail about because it would dipping into spoiler territory, but here ya go:

gaz was a big momma's boy as a kid, and when she died so soon after his father it left him with a lot of big, confusing feelings for an 8-9 year old

he was angry at price for a long time after his parents' deaths and it wasn't until well into his teenage years that he started warming up to price

farah was adopted after gaz, when her parents were killed during price's and the 141's first go around with makarov when they were both building their "empires" (we'll go more into that in the next few chapters)

gaz and farah took to each other easily, often finding comfort in their similar struggles and complicated feelings for price

price does everything he can to help gaz and farah remember their parents, mostly out of respect and love for them and their parents, but also due to that quiet guilt that he's the reason their parents are gone

gaz goes back on forth on calling price dad, but always refers to farah as his sister

farah does not call price dad, it’s always either old man or price

farah does think of gaz as a brother, but can’t bring herself to actually call him that because it makes her think of hadir

farah and gaz are best friends through and through tho

price cannot visit their parents' graves with them, he doesn't feel he has a right to, and if he goes with one of them he’ll wait in the car until they’re done to go to the grave himself

price has talked about canary to gaz’s dad’s grave

i hc price's favorite color as blue in general, hence all the blue he puts his women in

there is a difference between the blues when he gets canary a dress vs when valeria makes her one

valeria's come in various shades of blue while price's are always the same shade of blue as his eyes

he is absolutely doing it as a way to mark his territory

graves loves his women in gold and jewels and designer, it's a way to show off his wealth and status and how much he spoils them

it's all part of a carefully put together show to make himself look good

makarov does not give a fuck about any of that

his women are on display as a way to taunt and tempt his enemies because they know better than to touch what's his and he drapes them in blood-colored fabric as warning

price had a playboy phase after his (amicable) divorce from kate and it only got worse when gaz’s parents died

he never loved or really cared for any of his significant others, knowing most were just after his money, status, or bragging rights - they used him and he used them as a stress relief

when gaz moved in to the manor, he tried a few short-lived relationships that never lasted more than a few months

he stopped completely when farah moved in

price tried dating once or twice when gaz and farah were older and things were more stable but it was never anything serious until canary

price has never been in love until canary

price, nik, and gaz's dad were bffs with farah's dad joining later, and nik loves gaz and farah like his own

at one point, shepherd was included in that little group

alex and farah had a romcom-esque meet-cute at a 141 gala where alex was a guest of kate's

alex fell first, farah fell harder

price, and the rest of the 141, are good friends with kate's wife, but they don't see her often since she's not involved in their business

kate tries to keep her wife separate from that side of her life for her own safety

roach, könig, and horangi live in a three-bedroom apartment because the third bedroom was originally ghost's

outside of soap, ghost is probably closest to roach and sees him as a younger brother

no one except ghost knows how old roach is, he changes the answer every time someone asks him

roach was not born mute, it happened during a bar fight where he shielded ghost from someone with a broken bottle

ale/val/rudy have known each other since they were kids

rudy always had feelings for alejandro but never said anything, content to be friends

alejandro and valeria dated first, they broke up when valeria and alejandro disagreed with how to run the vaqueros

alejandro and rudy started dating in that time, but rudy broke up with him when valeria came back and rudy felt like alejandro wasn't over her

it was a lot of drama and feelings being shoved down that culminated in one night of drinking, arguing about emotions, and eventually a threesome

the three have been together ever since

alejandro and rudy do not necessarily approve of what valeria does with her own business - she takes a very jason todd approach to it all (aka "you can't stop crime, but you can control it") - but she does get positive results so the arguments are few and far between

rudy is a doctor first and foremost, but he's always enjoyed cooking (something something cutting into meat the same way he'd cut into a body something something) and it was his own suggestion for him to be the club chef

valeria never intended to do fashion design, but she enjoys the finer things and has specific tastes for how she wants to look

since every tailor/designer she had hired eventually ended up disappointing her, she took up the job herself

running a club was nik's idea, and it took him a few months and a lot of badgering to convince price to go along with it

price agreed only because 13-year-old gaz mumbled that "it'd be kinda cool" one night at dinner

the singer position at the club was made specifically for farah because she found comfort singing songs her mother used to sing to her and hadir when they were little

on special occasions, soap will take over at the bar and alex will get on stage and play guitar alongside farah as she sings

soap was gaz’s friend that he introduced to the club and he became fast friends with everyone

eventually price hired him after recognizing how smart and perceptive soap was

soap is in his position for a reason, the guests are more than happy to ogle the handsome server with too many buttons undone and not notice that he's watching them back with a far sharper eye

soap and ghost were supposed to be a one-time thing meant for stress relief but ghost caught feelings and kept coming back

it took ghost ages to admit he cared for soap and when the realization hit, it scared the hell out of him but roach convinced him to talk it out with soap

soap is the only person ghost would ever disobey price for, but he would never admit that

alex gushes to gaz about farah nonstop and talks about how he knew he was going to marry her the moment they met

gaz was happy for them, but he never really got it...until he met tabby

nik sometimes gets too drunk and reminisces about his wife back home

no one knows if he actually has a wife, or where “back home” is, his stories are all the same, but the little details change every time

könig and horangi were together before they joined the 141, and könig moved in with roach and ghost completely unaware that they worked for price

the 141 refers to kortac as "könig's people" because it's a far more complicated system of contacts and connections that would take a week to describe

ghost’s entire spine pops when he gets out of bed in the morning, and it freaks soap out

roach was a track star in highschool

price has the highest kill count in the 141, soap and valeria have a not-so-friendly competition going for second place

canary got her nickname from her father

graves did have romantic feelings for canary at one point, but that quickly got overshadowed by his want for adler to recognize and approve of him

adler only approved canary and graves’s marriage because canary asked him to - the contract was his one condition for that approval

russell adler died two days after canary and graves got married

graves only has two preferences when it comes to his women: rich & powerful

price cares about his people, but it borders on a possessiveness that he keeps very well hidden

price has built a very strict set of rules about who his people kill and how far they can and cannot go

he will end business relationships if someone steps out of line

valeria has come close on several occasions

makarov does not care - he will kill men, women, children, old, young, pregnant, etc. blood is blood, it doesn't matter who it comes from

that’s not say price wouldn’t do what needs to be done to protect his people

price cares about family above all else, and he will go scorched earth on anyone who would dare to threaten or hurt them

#anon #moth answers #answered #cod ask #private

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 21 days

Text

The King and I

Chapter Five: The Monarch of Sweden

Featuring King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden

During an official visit to IEA headquarters, King Carl XVI Gustaf led a high-level delegation of officials, academics and business leaders taking part in a roundtable meeting on the emerging global energy crisis and the importance of clean energy technologies with myself and other senior figures from the Agency. The day before the visit, my boss came to talk to me, wanting me to work my magic and get this proposal through. She knows I’d do what even it takes to get the deal done, even sleep with clients.

I'm a 29-year-old man, blonde-haired with supermodel looks. My athletic body with my tight ass, 8' cock, a smile that could light up a room and seductive eyes, I could make just about any man mine.

But the married, 77-year-old monarchy in Sweden?

Well, I wasn't sure of that. But I just didn't know how to say "no thank you" to this lady. She knows how to nudge people into doing things her way.

By the next day, all I was thinking about was King Carl. I was picturing him with his multiple castles, gleaming medals, and plenty of wealth, looking down on the common folks. I hoped that was not the case, but suddenly, I wasn't too excited about my assignment. Yet that afternoon, I knocked on the conference room door where the king waited.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty. I'm James Avery, I'll be presenting the company's proposal."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Avery. How nice to meet you. Do please get started." Said the very imposing man sitting at the conference table.

He looked handsome. Silver hair with a receding hairline and a slender build. His eyes were friendly and warm yet enigmatic. Like there was more to him than he was willing to reveal. I was getting interested in him again, until I remembered he was straight. I endeavored in vain with the plan, going over our proposal to the impeccably groomed, white-haired man who now looked intently at me.

It almost felt like he was checking me out, I thought to myself. I tried to keep myself from smiling as I was entertaining that idea. Just then, I decided that I might just have some fun with him. I always had a thing for older guys.

I dropped some of my paperwork and I made sure to bend down with ass in his direction so he could notice it. I peeked behind and yep, he was staring dead at it. He even smiled at me as he settled into his leather chair.

I could almost see the gears in his head. Was I flirting with him or was it all in his head? I decided to press on, "Your Majesty, I'm glad I was able to speak to you. I can't stress how important it is to have a back door… I mean an open-door policy."

I watched carefully as I "mistakenly" said, "back door" and saw all I needed to see as he turned slightly in his chair, and I saw his bulge. I had him right where I wanted him as he sat there, not knowing what to do next.

I walked over to him and asked, "Is there something I can do to ease your concerns on our proposal?"

His face turned red and just shook his head as if there was nothing I could do. But I knew what was going on in his head. He's debating on wanting to fuck me or not.

We sat there for an awkward minute as he had his internal struggle, so I chose to take things to next level.

"When was the last time you had your cock sucked, Your Majesty?" He didn't budge as I caught him off guard. His lower lip seemed to quiver a bit as if words were trying to be formed, but my now sexual presence was suffocating them.

"Does your wife take good care of you, Your Majesty? Does she suck your cock every night? Does she make you feel good?" I whispered, looking into his eyes.

He slowly shook his head no as I kneeled in front of him.

"May I Your Majesty?" I asked licking my lips.

With his lips still quivering, he nodded yes as I slid my hands up and down his legs. Putting on my most sincere face, I thanked him while unbuckling his belt so I could undo his slacks. Reaching into his underwear, I was rewarded with a nice cock. It was about 8 inches, thick, veiny, and most importantly, hard. I licked from the bottom of his shaft to the tip, taking in his musky smell as he shuddered in pleasure. It felt so erotic.

His Majesty gripped the arms of his leather chair as I slid my lips over his manhood and went to work. I could feel the veins on his cock as my lips glided up and down. Looking up to see his glazed over eyes told me everything I needed to know. I had him right where I wanted him. He's going to agree with the deal.

I was going to milk this old king and leave him wanting more, sucking him off for everything it was worth. My head bobbed as his moans got louder and louder. Eventually, he built enough courage to lay a hand on my shoulder as my hands slipped under his ass so I could take him deeper.

Next thing I knew, he grabbed me behind the head, pulling my face toward his crotch, and forcing his cock down my throat. I managed to take inch after inch of his thick dick down my throat until my lips were pressed against his pubic hairs. I let his cock hit the back of my throat a couple times before I released his cock from my mouth with a gasp and I jerked him off so I could catch my breath.

I was feeling really slutty, with one thought on my mind as I let his cock free of my mouth again and spat on it to lube it more. I’ve never been fucked by a king, and I wanted Carl to fuck me.

“Fuck me!” I told him, but not waiting for his answer as I stood up and jerked my pants and boxer shorts down, bent over the conference table, jetting my butt in his direction.

His Majesty didn’t answer, he just looked at his cock and then over at me. I guess the sight of my ass overcame me not being a woman because the old king got behind me, pausing for a moment to spit in his hand.

A moment later I felt his slippery dick head pressing against my asshole. I relaxed as best as I could and gasped as the head pushed past the ring of muscle and into me, working the whole 8" into me till his hips pressed against my ass. I was in heaven having my hole stretched by a hard cock, feeling his heartbeat inside me though his pulsing manhood.

“You got a nice tight asshole.” The old king said almost angrily as he gripped my hips firmly and began to stroke in and out of me, slowly at first. He’d pull out till the head almost slipped out then thrust it smoothly back in, each entry into me I gasped out loud.

Eventually, his rhythm began to pick up speed and he grunted with pleasure. The smell of musk and sex filled my senses, and it was intoxicating.

As if knowing someone would come in soon or wanting to blow his load, His Majesty pumped into me faster and harder forcing more moans and gasps from me.

"GOD YES! Fuck me Your Majesty, Fuck me!"

That spurred him on as he thrust fully into me digging his fingers into my hips and grunted holding himself deep in me.

He began spraying my insides with his hot royal seed. I could feel it in me and knowing that I was being breed by the king of Sweden had me cumming on the floor. Carl was panting as if he'd just ran a marathon as quickly put himself away.

Later, the king and his delegation agreed with our proposal, helping us deal with global energy crisis and make up a lot of money in the process. And King Carl gave his personal number to keep him up to date with our progress.

I wondered if he even still had sex with his wife. Oh well, it didn't matter. It would be much better if they didn't. I've found that men will do almost anything for sex. Especially really good sex.

As they left, I secretly told His Majesty, "I’ll personally keep you updated Yor Majesty…"

With that, he left smiling. Another satisfied customer.

#king carl xvi gustaf #the king and i #fan fiction #The Monarch of Sweden #carl xvi gustaf

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itwoodbeprefect · 4 months

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Fic Writing Review 2023 🌈

i wanted to take a moment to reflect on the past year and bring it to a nice close, so i took to tumblr search and google to see if there was some sort of tag game going around. i frankensteined this list of questions from a few different versions of what was probably originally the same thing, but the nature of The Website of course makes it impossible to locate an original, so this is me just sort of, well, joining the fun by starting a parallel thread.

Words and Fics (on ao3) 📚

words posted: 73,947, but this is a little deceptive because all the words for A flip-flop state of mind currently get counted for 2023, so it's probably something closer to 45-50k

fics posted: 21, which will eventually go down to 19 when i update the two multi-chapter works and they get sorted into the new year

first fic: Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream Throuple [Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948)]

last fic: Bases loaded, do your dance [h50]

Ships and Fandoms ⚓

ao3 tells me the following:

Starsky & Hutch (8)

Hawaii Five-0 (2010) (7)

Ted Lasso (TV) (2)

Stargate Atlantis (1)

Hard Core Logo (1996) (1)

Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948) (1)

Top Gun (Movies) (1)

and for each of those it's probably the ship you most expect if you know the thing (and the way fandom works), except maybe ted lasso (both fics are keeley/roy/jamie) and sga (a gen team fic, no ships).

Top 5 Fics by Kudos 🏆

no big surprises here. ted lasso was easily the biggest fandom i've written for this year (not to mention that these two fics had the good fortune of being posted very soon after the finale), followed by h50 long before s&h comes on the scene:

How To Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) [ted lasso]

Honey honey, how you thrill me (Honey honey, nearly kill me) [ted lasso]

A flip-flop state of mind [h50]

Oh, kiss me like the final meal (Yeah, kiss me like we die tonight) [h50]

Something old, something new [h50]

Top 5 Favorite Fics 💖

these are in no particular order!

3 AM, the time when most people die - this is a hard core logo (1996 canadian movie) fic which just kind of Happened, and it hung around on ao3 for a solid few days in a 0 kudos 10 hits sort of state, which had me giggling every time i thought about it. 2023 goal of writing for me, myself & i achieved (0 kudos on a fic)! ✅ (that said, it does also bring me great joy to see that the number is upwards of zero now. lovely to see an obscure thing find its audience. <3)

Your hands in my back pockets - a starsky/hutch fic, and in some ways the opposite to the previous one. i had a "this is alright" sort of feeling about it when i hit post, and the (lovely! very flattering!) way people responded to it surprised me somewhat. reading it back now, i don't know what bothered me about it at first - it's nice, it flows, it's all good! plus, i really like the title. it's a good s/h title.

POV: It’s a lovely day, you’re sipping a refreshing cold drink on your 70s apartment balcony, and the upstairs neighbor who always waters the sago palm outside your front door when you forget about it has that one friend over and his windows wide open. - this is a starsky/hutch all dialogue fic, and it was just plain fun! very easy to write, thankfully not hard to read, and the title is completely ridiculous in a way that still gives me a kick.

How To Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) - can't not mention this one, i think. it's the roy/jamie/keeley ted lasso fic i wrote in record time (for me), and i had a blast doing that and i think that's palpable in the end result. i have warm memories of this!

Oh, kiss me like the final meal (Yeah, kiss me like we die tonight) - h50! steve/danny! they'd gotten swamped by all the starsky/hutch in 2022, but they made a minor comeback this past year. and again, this fic was just plain fun - a scene that really needed the mcdanno rewrite, and i'm glad it happened, and that it decided to flow so smoothly it grew twice as long as intended. the gag with the gun is still good, the banter works, and i like "it tastes like a laugh".

Fandom Fic Events 🤝

my knee-jerk first thought was none, which would have been a blatant lie for this year! i wrote a fic for the SHareCon (starsky/hutch con) zine, which is currently still zine-only but will appear on ao3 at some point in the future, and i also wrote something for this year's Starsky & Hutch Advent Calendar, which can be found here (which will also lead you to all the other lovely advent calendar gifts of 2023 and previous years!). neither of these things would have happened if starsky & hutch fandom hadn't been such a warm, welcoming, unbelievably well-organized space. <3

Projects for 2024 👀

oh god. oh god i have so many things on the grill.

the end of 2023 was a stretch of time where i did write some, and at times even a very decent amount, but nothing seemed to be getting finished - which was annoying for a bit, and then sort of petered out into oh well. it'll happen, eventually, when it wants to. which means that currently i have a whole bunch of nearly finished things for a whole bunch of fandoms:

bad buddy - should this be top of the list? who knows. but oh, i need to write something for this - i have to, i need to, you know. it's just that it's turning out to be more of a challenge than most new things i start writing for, because i do feel i have a reasonable grip on the characters, but the fact that it's a thai series which i'm only consuming through fan-generated subtitles is clashing with some of the fundamentals of how i usually write fic, as it turns out. usually i watch a thing and then mimic character voices to write a section of (probably mostly, maybe only) dialogue, which then gets filled out with descriptions and an actual setting later on. the problem with bad buddy is that i love, love subtitles, and i love, love the people who write them, but they do (understandably! naturally!) lead to some very clunky english at times, and i just can't write things like "are you chickened out, fierce eyes". i cannot. which means i need to half-invent the right english character voice (and how that blends with the little i know of thai speaking patterns and customs), which takes away the thing i usually lean on way more heavily than i previously realized i did, so. it's a journey! it's an experiment! i'm learning things! i'm making choices! and i'm pumped about it but it's also REALLY slowing down the bad buddy fic production.

starsky & hutch - many things are happening! many many! they're just happening slowly. there's one particular fic about starsky and hutch comfortably out at a party and hutch fielding questions about names which has been 98% done for a month or two, but i need one (1) more connective paragraph to wrap things up, and apparently i'm in no hurry. and i love that for me, at the same time as i'm tempted to flick my brain and go Do It. Just Do It. oh god, and then there's a much older comedy fic stuck in close to the same situation only there it's 95% and the missing part is the end, which is at least a little more serious, and there are. i think literally a dozen probably. things that are cooking, bubbling, making interesting little noises. it's yet to be seen which of those turn out tasty.

h50 - there are some shorter wips here that have great potential to go somewhere, but mostly i want to finally (finally!) wrap up a flip-flop state of mind, which only needs finishing touches (albeit a bunch of them) on the final chapter, and then maybe 200 more words for the short epilogue to round things out. i had somewhat hoped to get that done before the new year, but it didn't work out that way, and i'm at peace with it - the longer this fic takes, the more comical my initial estimate of "i can probably get this done within the month" becomes. and after that's done, i can refocus my energy on Sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola, another ill-fated plan which i Will see through (while also enjoying myself), dammit, but i think for that one i'll need to pre-write the whole thing before i start posting again or i'll just keep going in circles.

nashville - it's been a while since my rewatch, so i'm not sure it will ever really come together, but i have a fun little 5+1 will/gunnar thing which lives half in a google docs file and half in my heart. could be nice!

sga - there's One Fic that's near done and has a few turns of phrase in it that keep making me go "oh, this might be worth finishing, actually" every time i return to it, but i think i'll need to let that happen a few more times before we actually get there. there's also a light and comedy-ish aro/ace john fic (heavily featuring john&rodney and john&team) on a low boil. i think that one might need to wait for me to rewatch the show at some point so i'm correctly immersed in the Vibes of it all, but it's very dear to me, so it still gets a permanent In Progress label.

due south - there's one particular thing that i might get back to? maybe. it could happen. @redgoldblue's dedicated live reporting on their due south watch, as well as their ds fic, did stir something in my brain.

other - there's literally two paragraphs of hard core logo fic kicking around in my notes which might turn into something some day. (when i started writing 3AM those new words were intended to blend with the two existing paragraphs, but they never did.) there's some ted lasso that can still be considered wip, but my ted lasso fic moment burned bright and short, it seems, though it's nice to know the framework is there if i ever do a rewatch. oh man, and there's a weird homoerotic over the top (because that's what this canon is) tango & cash wip which i hope will make it across the finish line some day, but i wouldn't be surprised if in the end that's, like. coming to an ao3 page near you soon! in 2026.

Tagging ✨

tag any number of people you want as far as i'm concerned (which can be zero! that's a valid number), but i haven't spotted this going around in my fandom circles yet, so i'll shoot for some good coverage: @redgoldblue @luredin @actingcamplibrarian @stephmcx @pterawaters @the-arya-silvertongue @logicgunn @incognito-insomniac @dedkake @spaceradars @spurious @sparrowsarus @flownwrong @theroseandthebeast @jimmyandthegiraffes @soleadita @ivycross @murphyhatesme @bgharison @thekristen999 @cowandcalf @msbeeinmybonnet @ruztyryan and you, reading this. i fully tagged myself to do this, so please don't feel shy about doing the same! i really do want to read your answers, if you feel like giving them.

obviously there's no pressure, and also feel free to modify this any way you want! give different stats, list top 5 by hits instead of kudos, name just one favorite fic, add in fics you only posted to tumblr rather than ao3, skip a category or invent a new one or throw the whole thing out and only reflect on a single piece of writing in more detail - it's all fair game, as long as it suits you.

#biggest regret is probably that neither flip-flop OR any of the bad buddy fic got finished before dec 31st #but that's okay. there'll be another dec 31st. we've got time!#*#tag stuff

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deeplyridiculouslyinlove · 3 months

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Ranking Wheel of Time Characters and their Narrative Arcs

I've been thinking about a post like this since probably book 8, so here we go. My ranking of the arcs of the major characters in the Wheel of Time book series, and separately my ranking of those actual characters (because they are not the same!!)

Arcs:

Nynaeve

I could say a literally never-ending amount of things about my darling Nynaeve. I think she has the most internal development of any character in the series, which makes her feel especially human to me. Getting to watch her learn that her anger is rooted in fear and a lack of control and to confront that was so powerful and it felt very real. Watching her grow from hating Moiraine to standing beside Moiraine at the end with Rand made me so emotional. And speaking of Rand, it was so nice to have one of the original Emonds Fielders with him in the later books to witness his descent--I think it added depth and believability both to her character and her position having cared for the younger ones when they were kids, and also really helped humanize Rand. While I tend to think Nynaeve's relationship with Lan is really random since they barely speak to each other when they fall over their skis in love with one another (apparently), by the end of the books I'd accepted it and it also made me emotional when she went behind Lan's back to find all the other Malkieris to ride into battle with him. I just feel really proud of Nynaeve and want the world for her and I'm glad that she was given a real growth arc the series.

2. Mat

So I grew from thinking Mat was a bit annoying and childish, to finding him fine as a character but listening to his chapters at 1.6 speed because I didn't care about carousing at inns or random bands of fighters, to having his chapters be my favorite. And I think that's because Mat really evolves throughout the series in a way that still feels very believable and true to the same person/character. He's is written so well as a character learning lessons while staying true to the core of who he was in the first book. I felt a lot of pride for Mat when he rescued Moiraine, and although I saw some chatter by folks on the internet that they'd be fine if the Daughter of the Nine Moons thing doesn't happen in the show, I actually really liked his relationship with Tuon because it was one of the few relationships we saw actually build and develop slowly. Despite being a fated relationship, they also spend time together and develop a rapport. It was a fated marriage not fated love, and I thought that worked much better than the fated loves of Rand’s polycule. I also liked that Mat and Tuan's relationship had some ambiguity until the end; although they clearly cared for one another, we never saw them come to really understand one another, which felt authentic to the situation they were in. Mat is also one of the very few men in these books who actually recognizes that there are things he doesn't know and doesn't need to be involved in, and I appreciate that from a male character in what ultimately remains a pretty patriarchal world despite RJ's structural changes to society (I can back up this statement about patriarchy, but that is a whole separate post). I think this is likely at least in part because Mat doesn't engage with the Power, which is the part of the books that most upholds patriarchal stereotypes and values. Now I'm rambling about Mat more than his arc, but I think he both has a lot of depth and grows internally in significant ways and I really appreciate it!

3. Aviendha

I love Aviendha as a character, and I think her arc is another really good example of slow internal growth. We see get to see her go from Maiden to Wise One to the person who discovers the new message hidden in Rhuidian and what that means for her entire people. We see her struggle with what it means to have left the Waste and what she feels is right for the future. And all of this without that many point-of-view chapters compared to other characters! Aviendha's relationship with Rand also feels the most authentic to me of any of his three women. We actually get to see their dynamic build and see them spending time together, it’s not just like “oh I’m fated to love him!” They also spend time apart and Aviendha doesn't spend that time pining over him, but rather focused on her own goals and the bigger picture. From the narrative, I get why they like each other and also why they are a good match for each other. I don't love her getting injured in the way she does at the Last Battle because I'm not really sure what purpose it serves (I guess it's the ultimate sacrifice for an Aiel to not be able to walk or fight?), but if my biggest qualm with her arc is only at the very end, I'll still rank it quite high.

4. Egwene

When I started reading the books and talking to friends about the gender dynamics in them and the female characters, so many of them mentioned how Egwene gets one of the best arcs in the series. And while I don't disagree with that (I have her ranked in the top 5 still!), I think the fact that Egwene is not a ta'veren in the series really hurts her arc in the later books. Once she's Amyrlin, and particularly once she goes back to the tower as Amyrlin, I feel like she starts to get plot armor that detracts from her actual development. All she has to do is talk and people are completely swayed to her side in a way that I think sort of stunts her internal growth. I loved her time with the Wise Ones in the Waste and with the Aiel and I think it really showcased her eagerness and dedication in a way I related to, and it made her growth in Tel'aran'rhiod and becoming the Amyrlin feel really deserved. Her ending was tragic and powerful and somehow it both doesn't feel like what she deserved but also feels like it lives up to Egwene and I feel really conflicted about it!! I'm was very meh on the Gawyn stuff, since I don't think it really added anything and he's a bit of a downer of a character--honestly, Egwene is the character in the books I most wish had just not had to have a romantic relationship. That said, unlike a lot of other relationships in the seires, we at least see Egwene's feelings for Gawyn develop over time in the dream world so it wasn't as frustrating for me as some other characters' romantic arcs.

5. Rand

For me Rand's and Egwene's arcs are really really close in terms of how much I like them, but I think there are things missing in the execution of Rand's arc that make it a bit lower for me--had it been done slightly better (from my perspective) I think it would have edged out Egwene. I really *want* to empathize with Rand starting around book 11 when his PTSD and the weight of everything else he’s carrying really starts to impact him. But because he spent the first five books whining about how everyone is trying to use him as a puppet (and particularly suspecting literally any woman with power before he had been given any reason to do so), his later arc doesn’t lead well into him then being someone you’re supposed to empathize with in my opinion. Particularly because his whole arc in the later books is about love and compassion, but I don't feel like we get that from him in the early books? I find it very confusing. I think for that progression to work we really needed a part of his arc where trusting and/or showing compassion to someone leads to serious harm, then he turns hard, and then he remembers the need for compassion. Maybe I’ve just forgotten it but I really can’t think of anything at all like that first step in the books? He distrusts the people who eventually hurt him? And things generally work out for him, even though he’s struggling internally? Anyway, this rating is higher than it otherwise would be because of how much I *want* it to work because having a chosen one who so clearly struggles with the weight that destiny places on him is interesting and the madness angle is also interesting to me. Oh also, I think Rand should have actually died at the end and that not doing so makes his arc more boring, sorryyyyy.

6. Faile

Faile is another character I really wanted more for. I hated the weird dynamics in her relationship with Perrin, but I could have liked them together without the physical abuse and if the power dynamics had felt more consensual and didn't have this whole element of her expecting Perrin to behave towards her in a way that he clearly didn't want to. Her being the lady to his lord was cute! I also liked Faile's progression from being a Hunter of the Horn to guarding the horn at the end. I like how self suffiicient she was and how she was able to find a way to combine what she was born for/raised for and what her parents wanted for her (being a noblewoman) with what she wanted (adventure and love).

7. Perrin

I have very few real issues with Perrin's arc and I’m sure other people liked it a lot. My ranking it relatively low is much more that it bored me and I left the series unsure of what it was trying to say than it being a bad arc or doing Perrin a disservice. I hated Perrin's relationship with Faile, and I hated that I hated it because (as discussed above) I think it had a lot of potential. Like Mat, I appreciated that Perrin did not think he needed to be involved in everything nor that he was always right, and I found his growth from boy to man quite believable and that it took place over the course of the books in a way that was well-constructed. I found the whole question of hammer vs axe and his contemplation of the Way of the Leaf to be really interesting! But I'm not sure I fully grasped the resolution of that debate and what the entire focus on it in the narrative was trying to say. And I feel the same about his struggle with the wolf side of him. Is the point just that violence is sometimes needed? And/or that it eats us up from inside? (But also that we have to accept that?)

8. Elayne

I want to do my best to separate Elayne from her arc, since I personally don't love her character for reasons purely of personal preference. I think the reasons her arc specifically is lower for me is that I feel like we don't get to see her growing into being a queen, since one of her primary character traits is that she is already so royal when they all meet her. I think the decision to have her win her crown in Caemlyn with a battle where they just snuck up behind the other forces was a weak one -- why couldn't they have defeated these people before if it was that easy? I also don't love that she gets no time to like learn how to be a queen before she is more focused on becoming a mother. The whole pregnancy arc doesn't sit quite right with me. She sleeps with Rand literally once and it's basically just to get pregnant? But this just builds off of what I dislike about how she just decides she's in love with Rand one day because she is fated to be. Give me the scene where they bond over war strategy and thinking like rulers like six books earlier instead of in the last book! It also seems like there's no reason she and Aviendha couldn't have become friends before realizing they both liked Rand instead of because they are forced into proximity by that fact, and I also feel like she and Rand should have spent actual time together before falling for each other--to my mind the way her part of the polycule goes down weakens Elayne's relationships with both Aviendha and Rand, which otherwise could have been interesting.

9. Moiraine

I have far too much to say about my baby Moiraine. I'm including New Spring in these arcs, and reading that made me want to reread the whole series in a new light. I love her. I love her I love her I love her. And to me New Spring makes her arc in the main series both more powerful and more tragic. Seeing in New Spring just how determined she is and also how much self-doubt she carries and how much her Aes Sedai serenity of the later books is disguising inner turmoil is so rewarding. I wish we had gotten to see so so much more of it. I know that she has to be mysterious to our main characters, but I don't think she has to be mysterious to the readers, particularly once we are more than a few books into a fourteen book series. To that end, I know why she had to go away (she is the Merlin character after all!), but I wish she had come back a few book sooner and we could have seen literally any interiority about reckoning with her time in the Tower of Ghenjei. The Moiraine in New Spring would have been going CRAZY both leading up to knowing she had to go through that archway and while stuck in the tower--even if she was being tortured, which she also would have withstood for a while. The fact that she couldn't take action that it was such a passive way of supporting Rand and his mission would have killed her, but also she would have been so very resolute, and I wish we could have seen that more. Instead, she just like shows up right before the last battle, speaks her piece, goes to help Rand (presumably thinking she's going to die??), and we see none of it from her POV! She never sees Siuan again and because we can't see into her mind that's just like...chill?? And obviously I hate the book pairing her with Thom, particularly her *offering to give up her abilities* for him. I see what it adds for his character arc, but what does it add for hers? Plus there is literally no reason to remove her powers and give her that powerful ter'angreal instead. That's just RJ's obsession with disempowering women and I despise it.

10. Siuan

Oh Siuan. My other baby Siuan. I'm only ranking her arc this high because I think it had a lot of potential to be telling an interesting story, but I think her ending was so horrible I can barely think about it. There was so much potential here to be telling a story about how you can have power and influence and be important even if you are less powerful and that the strength to manipulate and steamroll people is not the only way to make a difference, but I feel like this would have been a much more interesting message if she was the only (or one of the few) powerful women to get knocked down like this rather than it happening to literally every woman with power at the beginning of the series in one way or another. I particularly hated that with Siuan they did this knocking her down a peg in a way that made her younger and pretty for an old man (when she was only like 40 in the first place I might add!)--and she also started acting younger in a way that felt strange. I liked her teaching Egwene, but why couldn't she have some of the teacher vibes Moiraine did? And the way she dies with no one noticing or caring and it making basically no difference to the plot is so horrible. And, I'm sorry, it's not what the character deserved. Nor was it in line with the message I thought her arc was trying to send about the ability to have an impact no matter how unpowerful in traditional ways. And it happens because she doesn't stay with a man?!?! No one even knows she mattered after she was deposed and it’s all so unfair.

11. Lan

I feel like Lan doesn't really grow that much as a character since he spends the entire series basically just expecting to die in various ways at different times. Even with New Spring I don't feel like we get a good sense of what his character is meant to be doing besides impacting other characters in the series. I am not against his relationship with Nynaeve, but I don't think the books flesh it out very well. And I'm still mad he ends the series mad at Moiraine--where is their New Spring dynamic of him vibing with her even when he's annoyed with her? Obviously his leading the Malkieri into the blight really hit me in the feels and was a great culmination of his plight, however, which is why I still think the arc deserves an honorable mention.

12. Thom

Thom's arc is basically just from hating Aes Sedai to marrying Moiraine, and getting continually paired with weirdly young women. I guess he learns to overcome prejudice based on his nephew's death? I do like the role he plays with Rand and Mat and their respective character development as they grow up from the Two Rivers to adventurers, but I'm not sure that's really his arc or development. But for that I'm giving him a higher ranking than his Moiraine arc alone deserves.

13. Tuan

I don't think think Tuan gets that much of an arc. While she becomes Empress, she doesn't seem to grow or change her mind on things during the series, and mostly she puts aside things she doesn't like very much with intentions of dealing with them later. BUT I like how her and Mat challenge each other and engage with each other, and I think the internal growth is somewhat implied or is something that would have happened if we had had more time with her. I wish the entire Seanchan plot was more resolved at series end, but that's not specific to Tuan.

14. Loial

This may be controversial, but I don't like Loial's arc very much! I don't think he needed to get married! I'm glad he seems happy about it in the end, but it feels unnecessary. I loved him adventuring and writing his book and being sort of childlike in a really endearing way, but everything with his mom and with Erith took him out of the story for a long time and seemed to be sending the message that ultimately everyone wants to settle down. Let him explore and write his book and be a late bloomer! Idk.

15. Min

I am ranking Min even below the characters that only have a fraction of an arc because I loved Min so much in the earlier books and I hate the way the series treated her subsequently. When we first meet her she is determined to be fully herself, despite a talent that makes her stand out and a personality inclined against confrontation. She's brave and interesting! I hated watching her become more ladylike for Rand, and for a while essentially being absolutely nothing more than a lover and comfort for Rand. I really wish we had had more lingering payoff for the many books that Min was reading and trying to parse out what the prophecies meant, but it felt like Cadsuane was basically like "yes I agree" and then...it was no longer about Min having figured it out?

And just for fun, here would be my list of these same characters from ones I like most to ones I like least (although I like them all tbh!!)

Characters:

Moiraine (main trilogy + new spring)

Nynaeve

Egwene

Moiraine (main trilogy only)

Aviendha

Mat

Siuan (main trilogy AND main trilogy + new spring)

Loial

Rand

Lan (main trilogy + new spring)

Perrin

Lan (main trilogy only)

Faile

Elayne

Tuan

Thom

#no one asked for this but here we are!#sorry if your fave isn't here I literally just picked the people I thought had significant character arcs #plus a few folks we spent a lot of time with so it felt necessary I guess #I feel like I got grumpy in a lot of my reviews but I actually really like the characters and putting them in order was really hard!!#I just wished for more for many of them because they deserved better #narratively speaking #wot book spoilers #wheel of time

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