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rafecameroninterlude · 2 months

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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝

pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!kook!reader

summary: ❝i feel free when i see no one, and nobody knows my name.❞ — you and rafe sneak away from an event neither of you want to be at, and unexpectedly have a good heart to heart.

warnings: nearly nonexistent enemies to lovers, narcissistic parents (yikes), reader tries so hard to fight her attraction towards rafe lol, heavy flirting, light drinking, teasing, you and rafe confide in one another, car sex, unprotected sex (kinda vanilla imo), dry humping, slight praise kink

word count: 3k

a/n: i see your requests to make second parts for other oneshots of this series, don’t worry! they’ll be in the works once i have the rest of the series published <3 series masterlist

“for god sakes, y/n, change out of that horrid dress.” your father grimaced as you walked down the stairs, ready for whatever charity ball he was hosting this time. “her dress looks beautiful, won’t you leave her alone?” you heard your mother scold your dad as she fixed his tie. he always had something to say, just wanting to nag any chance he got. you ignored him, walking in front of the full length mirror by the front door. you looked amazing, the only reason why your father said anything about your dress being ‘horrid’ was probably because the low cut of your corset top pushed you up in all the right places.

“do me a favor when we get there? actually look like you’re enjoying yourself.” your father walked past you, holding the car door open for you and your mom. “of course, dad! i’ll walk around like this,” you smiled widely, your eyes void of any emotion. “my god,” you snorted at his expression, looking out the window for the rest of the ride. once you arrived, the three of you walked in, looking just like one of the perfect families you see in the magazines. the hall was already filled with everyone who lived on figure eight.

“i’ll be making my introduction soon,” your father greeted several people, your eyes narrowing at how much of a phony he was. “fix your face, dear. people are looking.” your mother nudged you softly. you don’t know what was faker, her smile or the extensions in her hair. you walked away before she could tell you anything else, taking a seat at the furthest table from the stage, the lighting itself nearly nonexistent. you looked around at the crowded room, spotting rafe in his own corner with topper and kelce. they were huddled together, rafe stuffing some cash in the pocket of his slacks.

that’s weird. you looked away, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as your father walked up to the microphone at the front. “good evening everyone, i would like to start off by saying..” you tuned out your father’s voice, tapping your nails against the table. it wasn’t long before clapping echoed through the room, a waiter approaching you with a fancy drink. “courtesy of mr. cameron,” you smiled at the server, thanking him before your head shot up in rafe’s direction.

he was already looking at you, blowing you a kiss as you waved him off. god, he was so annoying. you flashed him a fake smile. from the corner of your eye, you could see rafe making his way over, slipping into the chair next to you. he smelled so good, but you’d keep that thought to yourself. “how’s that little girl drink? i figured you couldn’t take the hard shit.” you nodded your head, taking a sip from the drink in question. “it could be better. i have to say though, when the waiter told me ‘courtesy of mr. cameron.’ i was hoping it was from your dad.” you pouted, rafe’s smug expression dropping instantly.

“sure you did.” he leaned back, your eyes traveling down the buttons of his shirt. you swallowed, averting your attention elsewhere before he could catch you. “what do you want, rafe?” you sighed. “what? i can’t sit with the princess of figure eight?” he leaned in, making you turn slightly. “of course you can, but can’t you see i’m having the time of my life?” you said sarcastically, both you and rafe laughing. he took your drink, tasting it for himself before he placed it back in front of you. “look, this is the last place i want to be right now, and by the way you’re over here by yourself, i could tell you feel the same. let’s ditch.” you thought for a second.

“and go where, rafe?” the man next to you shrugged. “let’s go to the cut.” you couldn’t help the shake of your head. “you’re funny.” his fingertips skimmed your wrist. “i’m serious, just think about it. no one there recognizes us, no one knows our name, we could just go for a drive, that’s it.” you glanced over at your mother, watching her down a whole glass of champagne as she feigned a laugh with some of the other women at a table. you’d hate to end up like that. “let’s get out of here.” you let rafe pick you up, shielding you from the crowd’s view as you two quickly made your way out the back entrance.

“hurry up!” he whispered as you struggled to get in his truck, your heels getting caught in the train of your dress. “i’m trying!” you groaned when your shoe wouldn’t budge from the fabric, rafe jogging around his vehicle to help you in. his hands gripped your hips, hoisting you up onto the passenger seat. he shut the door, your cheeks reddening. okay, he was very strong. he got in, his hand resting on the back of your seat as he backed out. you hated how attractive you found him. “you could act like you like me, you know.” rafe started driving. your father’s words from earlier replayed in your head. ‘do me a favor when we get there? actually look like you’re enjoying yourself.’ you blinked.

“i’m tired of acting.” you blurted out, immediately wishing you hadn’t spoken at all. rafe was quiet for a few seconds. “me too.” at his words, you glanced at him. “what do you have to act about?” it’s not that you were invalidating how he felt, but rafe wasn’t necessarily known as the good guy. “well, for one; my dad is an asshole.” he reached back, grabbing a beer from the backseat. “ward?” you scoffed, “he’s like the sweetest, at least when i’ve been around.” rafe nodded. “exactly. you’re proving my point.” you watched as he took the cap off with his teeth.

“but since we’re on this note; why don’t you like me?” he turned the radio on, the volume so low you could barely hear and sound coming out of the speakers. “it’s not that i don’t like you, rafe. i’ve just heard a lot of things. plus, you’re friends with douchebags, it’s only safe for me to assume you’re the same way.” you laughed when he flashed you a look that said ‘really???’

“topper and kelce aren’t even that bad, i’ve known them since forever.” he took a swig from his bottle. his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “i guess.” you found yourself looking at every little thing rafe did, finding it physically difficult to look away. “okay, you ask me something.” he took one hand off the wheel, his gold ring shining underneath the lights lining the road. “what did topper and kelce buy from you earlier?” he shut you down immediately. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” your eyes flickered to the speedometer, the numbers increasing. “you have secrets, i won’t pry.” he cleared his throat. “just trust me when i say you’re better off not knowing.” you two passed the bridge, officially entering the cut.

“you know what, there’s something i wanna know actually,” he smiled, “guys around here flaunt their girlfriends like trophies, how come i’ve never seen you with anyone?” you avoided his teasing gaze. “sorry, rafe. boyfriend applications are closed at the moment.” you looked down at your nails, trying to act as nonchalant as you can. as if rafe could sense the butterflies in your tummy, he shook his head. “that’s too bad, i have all the credentials too.” surely someone that good at flirting couldn’t be trusted. “do you also check the box for emotionally available?” rafe nodded. “for you i do.” damn him.

you couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto your face, rafe hollering once he saw that he got you. “alright, alright,” you brushed him off as he went off the road and parked underneath a tree. “i just realized how dark it is out here.” you looked around barely noticing any light. “this is the neglected side of the island. there’s no city lights, nothing. i kinda like that about it.” rafe left the keys in the ignition so music still played. “probably because you don’t have to live here.” you flashed him a look. “i’m sure the people on this side wish there was a little more.” you slipped your heels off, your feet already aching.

“besides that. think about it. you don’t have to uphold a reputation, you don’t have to act like something you’re not, no one expects anything from you, that sounds pretty good to me.” you nodded in understanding. “well when you put it like that, i’d take being a pogue over the kook bullshit any day.” he huffed out a laugh, grabbing another beer from the backseat. rafe handed it to you, your lip curling in disgust. “let me guess, ‘beer is gross,ew!’ fuck, you’re such a girl.” he shook his head. you stared at him for a moment. “you know what? i’ll drink it. but you open it.” you refused to use your teeth like rafe did.

he watched you with anticipation, your face scrunching as you took a swig. “i don’t care if i’m ‘such a girl’ that’s so bad.” you wiped your mouth, ignoring rafe as he suppressed his laughter. “okay, moving on,” he sighed, taking your beer for himself. “why did you look at your mom like that before we left?” you started fidgeting with your necklace, a habit you obtained when you were nervous. “this is gonna sound really stupid..” you trailed off, biting the inside of your cheek.

“i just feel like; if i don’t do something now to separate myself from my parents and their business, just figure eight in general, i’m gonna end up with the same life as hers. her and my father aren’t happy in their marriage, all she does is work and on her days off she drinks herself away while shopping online. i want so much more than that. something genuine.” rafe felt like you had crawled into his mind and said everything off of a script. “i love my parents, i really do, but i never want to become anything like them.” you blinked away the tears, not allowing the chance for you to ruin your makeup in front of this ridiculously beautiful man.

rafe kept his eyes on you, his gaze falling to the soft curve of your lips. “i don’t want to inherit anything from my father. every time we get in an argument, it never fails; he throws giving me money and an inheritance in my face when something goes wrong. i won’t let him be the reason i’m successful. i won’t piggyback off of him.” rafe sat back in his seat, manspreading slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. this time when you looked at rafe, you felt like you saw him for who he really is, and that overshadowed all previous judgments you had.

“you and me both it seems like.” your eyes flickered up at each other, your heart racing in your chest as he took you in. with the slowness of the music in the background, and your heated stares, you felt yourself approaching a line you wouldn’t be able to come back from, a line you were more than willing to cross. “i won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” rafe’s voice was low, his body leaning into yours. your lips met his first, his hand pulling you closer by the back of your neck, his lips were so soft against your own, the tenderness of his touch making you shudder beneath his fingertips.

“i’ve always wanted to kiss you.” you smiled at his words, suddenly feeling suffocated in your dress. “rafe?” you got close to his ear, your nails softly running through his hair. “please get me naked.” he never thought he’d hear that sentence leave from your lips. you giggled to yourself when he got off the truck, going to the backseat where he pulled you over the console like nothing. “i thought you’d never ask.” his hands were skilled as he helped you out of the million layers that was your dress, his eyes sparkling as you sat shyly in front of him in nothing but a matching set.

“fuck, y/n,” he slid off his suit jacket, throwing it to the front seat as he pulled you on top of him, his hands settling on your hips. “you still have clothes on.” you shivered, rubbing his chest through his shirt. “we’ll get to that baby, let me just have you like this for a second.” your heart fluttered at the name, your arms wrapping around his neck as he trailed kisses across your chest. he was truly drawing this out for as long as he could, but you weren’t complaining. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you wore this just for me.” you gasped when he flicked the waistband of your panties against your skin.

“next time i will, yeah?” you pulled away, cupping his face in yours hands, his eyes boring into yours. “yeah.” he kissed you again, a small moan emitting from your mouth when he dragged your hips against his. he was so hard already and feeling him through your panties was like torture. he continued moving you against him until you were gasping for air, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “please rafe, i just want you inside of me.” you whined, your hair coming undone from its updo, a curl falling into your face. he let you unbutton his shirt, his slacks coming off right after.

you couldn’t keep your eyes from staring at his hard on when he was left in his boxers, your hand tentatively palming him through the thin material. rafe’s jaw slacked as you touched him, his eyes darkening when he saw you take your bottom lip between your teeth. while you were still straddling him, you pulled him out, his hardened cock standing before you. you two looked up at each other at the same time, a yelp echoing through the truck as he pushed you down onto the seat, your bra being tossed to the side.

he wasted no time, his mouth latching onto one of your nipples as you welcomed him inbetween your legs. everything felt so surreal, one minute you thought rafe cameron was like everyone else you knew, and the next he was slipping your underwear off, telling you how stunning you are. you stared in awe as rafe used his thumb to keep the head of his cock from springing up against his stomach as he neared your entrance. the fact that he was that hard, struggling to keep himself down, filled you with such pride as he entered you slowly. “i’m sorry, i probably should’ve asked you if you were okay without using a condom.” you shushed him, pulling him down to kiss you. truthfully that was the last thing on your mind. he smiled against your lips, rocking into you slowly at the perfect pace. you stretched around his cock so deliciously, you couldn’t imagine not having this regularly.

rafe watched every expression on your face, the moonlight illuminating off of your skin in a way that mesmerized him. “you feel so good, y/n.” his eyes screwed shut as you held him against you, his pubic bone hitting your clit with each thrust. “you too,” you whimpered, that same feeling returning as he palmed one of your tits. he took one of your legs, resting it on his shoulder as your hips began meeting his thrusts. rafe whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you squeezed around him, sucking him in every time he pulled out.

“you’re the only girl that interests me. no one else has ever understood or even taken the time to try to understand me.” your eyes met, a look of knowing passing through them. you smiled, your expression changing into one of pleasure as he grazed that sensitive spot inside you. “right there? you like that?” you nodded, your nails raking down his chest. “please don’t stop!” you cried, feeling cock drunk as he lifted your head off of the seat, forcing you to look down where you two were connected.

“you see that? you see how perfectly you take my cock? this pussy was made for me.” the praise with added stimulation on your clit was all you needed before you were cumming around him, your back arching off the seat as your thighs shook violently. “fuck!” you gasped, your head pounding from holding your breath. by the look on rafe’s face and his sloppy thrusts, you knew he was right behind you when it came to finishing. “want you to cum inside me,” you felt feral as you kissed him, your legs locking around his waist. “yeah? want me to fill you up?” you hummed, moving against him faster. rafe cursed, burying his face in your neck as he let out the loudest groan yet.

the best feeling besides rafe making you cum, was his hot cum shooting inside of you, the thick ropes painting your walls as your nails dug into his skin. “o-oh, fuck,” he stuttered, his hips coming to a stop while he panted above you. your eyes could barely open as you looked up at rafe, both of you wearing a fucked out expression. “you okay?” he licked his lips, leaving a kiss on your forehead as he pulled out. “yes,” your legs fell from his upper half, feeling absolutely spent. he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your chest as you massaged his scalp. “y/n?” rafe’s voice was hoarse as he spoke, “we won’t end up like our parents, we’ll both leave figure eight. together.” you smiled, nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“i hope so.”

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javierpena-inatacvest · 10 months

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Chapter 5: You're the One That I Want

Summary: You and Javi spend the day running errands when you encounter a few unexpected surprises. After returning back to your apartment, you both face the reality that your weekend together is coming to an end, hoping for more time together soon.

Word Count: 10.6K (I am so genuinely sorry, there's A LOT goin' on in this chapter.)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), vaginal fingering, creampie, car sex, semi-public sex, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy scares, mentions of periods, mentions of food, sweet Javi being embarrassed about his past, Javi having it SO bad for you...Lorraine....

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's liked and reblogged, this is my first ever fic that I've written and I'm so glad people are enjoying it!!! 🥺 This chapter has a lot that happens and I already had to split it up once (yikes on my part), excited to write about what these two crazy kids are up to next!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

You rummaged through your drawers to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and a form fitting sage green tank top, knowing that a Laredo 80 degree day felt like a Chicago 95. You normally would have gone baggy, oversized t-shirt, but given your company, you decided to up your wardrobe choices. Javi leaned against your doorway, arms folded and jaw slack as he watched you get dressed. He had already spent the majority of the morning with you naked, yet something about you putting on more clothes made him half hard again. It didn’t help that you had purposefully picked a black, lacy thong and skimpier than usual sports bra to go under your outfit. You looked yourself over in the mirror before meeting Javi in the doorway.

“Ready?”

“You sure we have to go? You’re killin’ me dressed like that, Osita.”

“Yes, we do, or I am going to die of starvation in my own home.” You pressed up on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips.

You did one last check of your kitchen before grabbing your grocery list, purse and keys and slipping on your shoes by your front door. Javi followed suit, trailing behind you as you led your way down the stairs to the parking lot. It was only 11:00 AM, but the hot Texas sun was already beating down, radiating heat waves from the asphalt. Reaching the parking lot, you both unknowingly began walking in separate directions. “Okay, so I’m thinking I’ll probably do my non-food stops first and then we can go to the grocery store after so nothing bakes too much in the car. God is it always this hot? Does that work?” Silence. “Javi?” You turned around to find that Javi had gone in the complete opposite direction “Where are you going?!” You shouted.

“My car is parked over here? Where are you going?”

“My car is parked over here” you pointed in the direction you were walking.

“Let me drive.”

“Do you think I’m not a good driver? Is it because I’m a woman? That’s a little sexist, don’t ya think?”

“What?! No I never said that?”

“Javi, I’m joking. I’m more than capable of driving.”

“I know you are, but I’m offering.”

You thought for a minute about pushing back again, but your boiling state in the blistering heat was a painful reminder you desperately needed to get your car AC fixed, and you weren’t going to subject Javi to burning alive with you.

“Fine.” You said with a huff of defeat, changing directions and making your way back toward Javi. You got to his truck as he opened up the passenger door for you and you muttered under your breath.

“And you think I’m the stubborn one.”

“I heard that.”

As Javi started his car, he pushed open the overhead compartment over the driver’s side to pull out a pair of yellow tinted aviators. It was truly unfair that this man found ways to keep getting hotter. The cool breeze from the AC hit your face as soft music played from the stereo.

“Where to first, Osita?”

“Toy-R-Us.”

Javi raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Not for me, dummy. My niece turns 5 in a few weeks and even though I’m not close by, I still want to get her a birthday present. It should be quick, I think I know what I want to get her. Then we can go grocery shopping.”

Javi nodded in agreement as he backed out of his parking spot and you two hit the road.

“Didn’t know that you were an Aunt.”

“Yeah, my oldest brother, Charlie, has two little girls, 5 and 3, and he and his wife are expecting another one that’s due in November. Neither of my other brothers have kids. They’re the cutest. I miss them, don’t want Olivia to think I’m a deadbeat Aunt who forgot her birthday.”

“My old DEA partner Steve and his wife have a daughter named Olivia. Maybe a little bit older than your niece. Been a while since I’ve caught up with him.”

Javi could vividly remember the day he and Steve brought Olivia home to Connie, Steve’s wife. Crying and scared, Javi watching as they immediately wrapped little Olivia in their arms, showering her with love and affection. The 3 of them looked so perfect together, accepting the little girl into their family. While Javi congratulated them and told them he was happy Olivia would be in a safe home, he would never reveal the sting he felt knowing his chances of having what the Murphy’s did grew slimmer and slimmer with each day that passed in Colombia.

Before he left, Javi had always hoped he’d have a family. He loved his parents so dearly, and wished that one day he could have a resemblance of what they did with the person he loved. His relationship with Lorraine had left him hurt and scorned, as he had almost gotten what he had wished for, but with a woman who couldn’t have cared less about him. By the time he left Colombia, he had written the idea off completely. He was tired. Broken. Scared by the things he had seen, worse yet, done. If he could barely keep himself together, how the hell was he supposed to have a family? He couldn’t imagine burdening someone else, let alone children, with the weight he carried with him. That was until 5 days ago on a Wednesday afternoon in late May. That was until he met you.

“That’s nice that you still keep in touch with him.” You wanted to ask more, but for now, you would take any information you could get about his life before you.

“Yeah, Steve’s a good guy. Pain in my ass, but meant well.”

“You seem to attract a type.”

“And what would that be?”

“A pain in your ass.”

Javi shook his head and chuckled. “You’re a lot cuter than Steve. Makes it a little easier to forgive you.” You playfully punched him, the two of you laughing softly to yourselves as Javi reached his free hand down to set it on the bare skin of your thigh. You sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying his thumb trace gently around your flesh. It was a surprisingly quick trip to the Toys-R-Us. Javi’s truck pulled into a parking spot as you began debriefing him on what you needed as you walked into the store.

“Okay so when I talked on the phone with Olivia last week, she told me she really wants Polly Pockets. I’m just worried because the pieces are so small and I don’t want her sister to accidentally choke on them. I feel like a lot of the Kindergarteners really like those Sky Dancers but they always break. Her mom says she’s been into Pokémon cards but I feel like she’ll get bored of them.”

“Poké-what? Osita, I have no idea what the hell any of that means.”

“Right, sorry, I forgot not everyone spends the majority of their time with 8 year olds. This is all I hear about day in and day out, so I might as well put my knowledge to good use.”

Javi followed you through the brightly colored aisles, stopping as you occasionally would pick up a toy to examine it and then put it back down. As you walked, you talked about your favorite toys from childhood, Javi’s being his collection of Hot Wheels cars that he was convinced his dad still had somewhere in the attic, yours being your Lite Brite because it was the only thing your brothers wouldn’t try to take from you. You continued your journey until you stopped at a brightly colored bear holding a marker. “This one is perfect. My class loves these Doodle Bears. The bear is cute, she can draw on it and wash it off, and Charlie isn’t gonna be pissed that it needs batteries or will take forever to set up. Perfect.”

“Nice pick, Osita. Seems fitting.”

“I keep forgetting that means bear. Guess it is fitting.” You giggled as you plucked the bear off the shelf and began heading back towards the front of the store to check out. As you walked side by side, Javi reached down to grab your hand and interlock his fingers with yours. Neither of you said anything, but you didn’t need to. The smile on both of your faces said everything.

You made your way to the checkout lines, the store being fairly busy for a Sunday Afternoon. You settled on what seemed to be the shortest one, with only a mom, her husband and two little boys in front of you.

“TYLER AND SAMUEL DOOGAN, I SWEAR IF YOU DO NOT STOP CLIMBIN’ ALL OVER THIS CART THIS INSTANT, I WILL TAKE AWAY ALL OF YOUR POKÉMON CARDS FOR THE ENTIRE SUMMER.” You could feel the frustration radiating from the petite woman in front of you without even seeing her face. She turned around to face her husband standing behind her, reading a video game magazine, completely oblivious to his children’s antics. “Randy, can you please just tell them to get off? BOYS, ENOUGH.”

“Yeah, sure honey… Boys, you heard your mother, get down.” Randy muttered, not bothering to take his eyes off the magazine or even attempt to sound convincing.

You said nothing, knowing all too well how big of a pain kids could be, but when you turned up to look at Javi, his face had gone ghost white.

“Oh, fuck…” He muttered under his breath, just barely loud enough for you to hear.

“You okay?”

“Uh yeah, um-” His eyes darted frantically back and forth across the checkout aisles. “Um, it looks like there’s a shorter line over-”

“Javi?” The woman’s Texan twang spoke to him with an unsettling sense of familiarity.

“Hi, Lorraine.”

Oh shit. The wires in your brain clicked as you remember your co-workers mentioning their disdain for this woman. You still weren’t quite sure of her connection to Javi, but given his drained face and her snappy demeanor, you had a feeling this woman was bad news.

“Heard you’re back for good. How are things?”

“Uh, yeah. They’re fine. How about you?” You could practically feel the tension in Javi’s body.

“Fine. TYLER I SWEAR TO GOD.” She whipped her head around once again to yell at the fidgety boy.

“Randy, you remember Javi.”

Randy and Javi said nothing to each other and only exchanged painful grimaces, acknowledging the uncomfortable circumstance they found themselves in.

“What the hell you doin’ at a Toys-R-Us?”

You piped in, trying to give Javi any relief you could. “It’s um, my niece’s birthday. Just going shopping to get her something.”

“And you are?”

Stunned by her bluntness, you found yourself speechless. “Oh, um, I’m um-”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

His what?!

Javi gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. This trip was definitely not going as expected.

“Ah.” Her cold gaze met your shock. “Just be careful with this one.”

“Lorraine…”

“Fine, I won’t say anything else. Just figured she deserved a warning.”

“Lorraine, enough.” You had never heard his voice get that stern. Whatever had gone on between them had definitely not ended on good terms. “Looks like you got what you wanted anyways.” He gestured to the two boys now running wild up and down the checkout line, and Randy absent mindedly staring into his magazine.

If Lorraine’s looks could kill, Javi would be a dead man. Her brow scrunched deeper in anger. “Well, good to see you Javi.” She snapped back around as she picked up the bags at the end of the checkout aisle and grabbed both boys by the back of their shirts. “RANDY! Let’s go!” Finally coming to, Randy meandered behind, following Lorraine and the two squirming boys in her grasp.

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered to himself, running both of his hands over his face.

“Next in line!”

You checked out silently, figuring waiting to get back to the car was a better place to discuss what the hell just happened. The only thing breaking the dead silence on the way back to the truck was the occasional grunt or heavy sigh from Javi. You both took your perspective seats in the car as he started the engine.

“Soooooo… I’m not one to pry, but uh, what happened back there?”

“Fuck, Osita, I’m so sorry.” His fists were basically white knuckling the steering wheel at this point.

“Javi, why are you sorry?”

“Just- fuck. Her and how she talked to you, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she seemed delightful.” Javi stared at the roof of his car, breathing deeply. Jokes weren’t going to help the situation. You reached out to grab his arm, causing him to shift his gaze at you. “Javi, like I said, I don’t want to pry, but I promise, whatever you tell me, I’m not gonna judge you for it. I get that shit happens, and it obviously seems like Lorraine isn’t the nicest, I’m sure there’s a good reason for whatever happened between you two.

He let out a few deep breaths, formulating his response. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time.”

You grabbed his arm a little tighter, hoping that your sympathetic stare was enough to prove that you weren’t here to judge him for his past.

“Okay. Are you hungry? Do you wanna get lunch and talk about it?”

“I can always eat. What’d you have in mind?”

“There’s a sandwich place a few minutes from here. Been going there a lot since I started the new job. It’s pretty good. Does that work?”

“Love me a good sandwich. Sounds great, Javi.”

He nodded as you gave his muscles one more squeeze before letting him go so he could back out of his parking spot. You waited until he was back on the road to bring up the other no so subtle bomb that had just been dropped.

“Girlfriend, huh?”

A smile finally made its way back to his face.

“Uh, yeah. If uh, if that’s something you want. I know it’s um, kinda fast, but I really like you Osita.”

“I don’t know, I just really want to spend all my time hanging out with this super hot dude who’s sweet and funny and is the best sex I’ve ever had… but him being my boyfriend… I’m not sure…” you giggled and smirked at him.

“Best sex you’ve ever had, huh?” He smirked back at you and raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t let it go to your head too much.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged at him. “I really like you too, Javi. I would love to be your girlfriend.”

Both your faces spread wide with childish grins as you reached over to grab Javi’s hand and intertwine it with yours. Girlfriend. It had a nice ring to it.

Pulling into the small parking lot of Alejandro’s Deli and Sandwiches, you released your hand from his to cup his face, kissing him long and intensely.

“You ready, boyfriend?” Putting an extra emphasis on the last word.

“Yes, let’s go, you dork.”

The shop was small and well loved, and was clearly a favorite in the area. Past the deli counter were a few small sets of tables and chairs, where people were scattered about enjoying their food. As you waited in line and stared at the menu board, Javi’s hand never left yours.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Javi could clearly tell you were having a hard time deciding as the line continued to move forward.

“You’re the sandwich expert here, what do you normally get?”

“Either the club or the roast beef. Everyone says the BLT is good too.”

“Winner, winner, BLT dinner. I was trying to decide between that one and the Italian, but a BLT sounds SO good right now.”

“Do you want to go grab a table for us while I order? It gets busy here and there’s an open spot in the back corner.”

“Sure!” You let go of his hand to begin rummaging through your purse.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking through my purse for the other BLT I had stored in here. I’m getting money so I can pay for my sandwich.”

“You’re not paying for the sandwich.”

“Let me pay for it!”

“You’re not paying for it.”

“Ugh, Javier Peña, don’t deny that you are just as stubborn as I am. Fine, thank you for the sandwich.”

You sat your things down in the windowsill next to the corner in the back of the shop as you waited for Javi to join you. You looked around to see cute photos of what you assumed was Alejandro’s family, a man eating a sandwich as long as him, and 3 kids chasing a dog who had stolen their lunch. Javi returned quickly with your orders, plus a bag of chips and a chocolate chip cookie. “Chips and a cookie? A man after my own heart. Thank you again, this place is super cute!”

“Yeah the guys at the station suggested my first day because my dumbass forgot my lunch.”

You took a big bite of your sandwich as Javi spoke. “Well it’s a 10 out of 10 suggestion, this is the best sandwich I have had in so long.” You took a few more bites before working up the courage to bring up the reason you were eating sandwiches in the first place. “So… Lorraine.”

Javi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a heavy sigh before he spoke. “Yeah… Lorraine.”

You reached across the table to grab his hand. “Javi, like I said before, I’m not here to judge. I get that things happen. I promise, it’s not gonna make me think any less of you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know you’re a good person.”

Fuck. That one hit Javi in a way that he wasn’t sure how to feel. In his heart, he had convinced himself that he was the exact opposite. He wasn’t a good person. He didn’t deserve to have people think he was. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t someone that people should celebrate. A good person was the last thing he considered himself to be. But here you were. He has let you in to see the glimpses of his past and it only made you want him more. You wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted to be with him. Despite the things he had done, and the person he so desperately wanted to separate himself from. You cared about him.

“You really want the whole story?”

“I have a full belly, handsome man to stare at while I listen, and all the time in the world. Yes. Full story.”

With a deep breath, Javi began to explain how he had met Lorraine in high school. On a dare from his friends, he asked Lorraine to prom after she had broken up with her all star quarterback boyfriend, and desperate not to go to her Senior year dance alone, she said yes. Things were never really great between them, Javi admitted they were young, stupid and horny, and when it was time for them to leave for different colleges, he had tried to put an end to things. That didn’t stop her from calling Javi every time she was at Texas A&M to visit friends to hook up with him and fuck with his head enough to make him reconsider things, until she left again, leaving him feeling dejected and empty. This went on until they both found themselves back in Laredo after graduating college, Javi working on his family ranch while applying for various law enforcement jobs and Lorraine working at her aunt’s flower shop. Now both back in the same place, Lorraine had approached Javi about wanting to try things again. He didn’t love the idea, but it didn’t stop them from hooking up in the back of his truck after he took her out for dinner a few days later.

A few weeks went by and Javi didn’t hear much from Lorraine, until one day he got a frantic phone call telling him to meet her as soon as possible. Once they were together, Javi found Lorraine crying in the diner parking lot she chose to have him meet at, and their conversation went a little like this:

“Lorraine, what’s wrong?”

“I missed my period. It’s two weeks late.”

“Fuck. How? We used a condom, right?”

“Yes. I don’t know Javi, apparently it can still happen.”

“Fuck me. Shit, um, okay. Okay, fuck. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want all of Laredo to know that you knocked me up on a one night stand. God dammit, Javi, I don’t know? It doesn't look as bad if we were engaged or married, or something!”

“Married?! Lorraine…”

“Do you have a better idea?”

He didn’t. And in that moment, he panicked. How could he not? There was nothing less he wanted than to spend the rest of his life with Lorraine, let alone have a child with her. But he wasn’t going to leave this baby without a father and felt so awful about what he had done to Lorraine. He drove home that night, tears streaming down his face as he tried to come to grips with his fate.

The next two months were a whirlwind, Lorraine trying to plan the wedding as fast as possible to avoid any suspicions of looking pregnant. Flowers, catering, decorations, terrible, uncomfortable suits, Javi hated every moment of it. He was miserable. His parents knew something wasn’t right, despite Javi’s efforts to convince them otherwise. They never cared much for Lorraine to begin with, and the unfortunate circumstances weren’t helping.

A week before the wedding, Javi received a phone call, which to his relief, wasn’t Lorraine. It was a call from a secretary at the DEA office in Texas, asking if Javi wanted to come in and interview for a position. It was the first shred of hope he had felt in months, gladly offering to come in the next day. The interview went so well, the hiring agents offered him the position on the spot. There was only one catch. He was going to be stationed in Colombia, and he needed to leave by the end of the month. When he left, he thanked the team for their time, and told him that he would think about it. Everything in his body wanted to scream “I’ll leave right now, please, anything to get me out of the hell that I’m currently living in!” But he knew he needed to think about it first before he just up and left.

His brain stewed over his possibilities for the next few days, leaving him more absent minded about his impending wedding, even though it was less than a week away. The night before his big day, he couldn’t have felt worse. Lorraine had called him to come over and finish up last minute plans before the day came, and begrudgingly, Javi was at her house, listening to her frantically list of things that needed to happen before tomorrow. Javi didn’t hear a single word that came out of her mouth, and excused himself to go to her bathroom to try and get a moment of peace. After washing his hands, he looked down at the trash can next to the vanity. The next thing he knew, he was carrying the waste basket to Lorraine, using every last ounce of self restraint he had not to completely lose it.

“Lorraine.”

“What?”

“What the fuck is this?” He held up the waste basket, his hands shaking.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Javi?”

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about Lorraine. Why the fuck is your trashcan filled with tampon wrappers and a fucking negative pregnancy test?!”

She sat in silence.

“Lorraine, fucking answer me!”

“My period started last week.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?!”

“Javi, the wedding is less than a week away!”

“Lorraine, that was the whole fucking reason we were doing this in the first place! What did you expect, for me just to not notice when you didn’t have a kid 7 months from now?! Jesus Fucking Christ.”

“What did you want me to do, Javi?! I can’t just call off the wedding, my parents paid a lot of money for this, there are people coming from all over! It would be embarrassing!”

“I can’t fucking believe this. You were actually going to go through with this and didn’t even care if you told me that you weren’t really pregnant. Unbelievable.” Slamming the trashcan down on the ground, Javi stormed out the door.

“Javi, wait!”

“Fuck you, Lorraine.”

There was no use trying to deny it anymore. When Javi came home, he broke down to his parents what had happened and how this whole mess had begun in the first place. She wasn’t pregnant, he didn’t want to marry her, he wanted to get as far away as possible from the wake of destruction he had left in his past. He practically begged his parents to drop him off at the airport, wanting to leave as soon as he could. As much as his parents hated to see him go, they couldn’t contribute to the pain and guilt their son already felt. That night was spent calling the DEA to accept the position, packing everything Javi could fit in a suitcase and hugging his mom and dad tightly as he said his goodbyes and got ready to board the next plane to Colombia. The next day, Lorraine was so busy preparing herself and getting ready for the wedding, making sure everyone knew the day revolved around her, that she had no idea Javi was already on a plane across the country. It wasn’t until all of the guests were seated and waiting in the pews of the church that they had figured out Javi was gone.

Lorraine had obviously come to some peace about it, hearing through the phone calls with his parents that 8 months later she was engaged to some guy named Randy who had some big wig job in finance. He had been home not too long ago, HR mandating that he had to use some of his PTO days he refused to take, to attend a wedding of one of his dad’s cousins, where he saw Lorraine for the first time since he had left her at the alter. She had been nicer to Javi then, perhaps taking pity on the fact that he looked so sad and desperate as he tried to talk with her. There must have been something about seeing Javi happy with another woman that absolutely set her ablaze, leaving you in the wake of the mess that was Lorraine Doogan.

Javi finished his story with a deep breath and another run of his hand across his face.

“Javi, holy shit.”

“You ready to take back that ‘you’re a good person’ comment yet?”

One hand reached up to cup the side of his strong jaw, while the other grabbed his hand resting on the table that had been curled up in a fist the entirety of telling his story. “Javi, what are you talking about? Of course not. What Lorraine did you was so fucked up, trying to trap you into marrying her with an imaginary baby because she was too embarrassed to say otherwise? I’m so sorry that happened to you, Javi.”

His only response was a half forced smile, his eyes still staring down at the table.

“If it makes you feel any better, her kids are absolute assholes- I know it’s mean to say that about a kid, but it’s true. They go to my school and they’re in the office every day getting yelled at for doing something stupid. To be honest, I kind of think you dodged a bullet on that one.” His face perked up a little more, letting out a small huff of laughter. You pushed his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

“Javier Peña, look at me.” You could almost see the guilt and sadness welling in his eyes. “I do not think you are a terrible person. I promise. Thank you for telling me about this, I’m glad you trust me enough to let me know.” You leaned across the small table between you to give him a kiss.

“Thanks, Osita.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m here to listen whenever you want to talk. Whaddya say we go get the rest of these groceries so we can head back?”

You gathered the remains of your lunch to throw away, taking the unopened bag of chips to go as you buckled back in for your final destination. The grocery store was in the complete opposite direction of your current location, so you began shuffling through the CD compartment in his glove box to try and pick out some music to lighten the mood for your drive.

“Fleetwood Mac, AC/DC, Stevie Wonder, Kenny Rogers… The Grease Soundtrack?! You are a man of many different tastes, Mr. Peña.”

“Okay, the Grease one Steve gave to me as a joke one year for my birthday.”

“And yet, here it is in your car. That means you had to take it all the way back from Colombia with you, unpack it, AND put it in here.” You waved the CD around in your hands, mockingly.

“...Some of the songs are kind of catchy.”

“I knew it!” You popped the CD out of its case and into the radio. “What song do you want?”

“I don’t really know the names of any of them…”

You crossed your arms and smirked at him, knowing sooner or later, he'd give you a response.

“.... You’re The One That I Want.” Javi admittedly defeated.

“Don’t know any of the names, my ass.” You laughed to yourself as you skipped several tracks ahead to Javi’s song selection.

You turned the volume up as you let the music play through John Travolta’s verse, curious to see if you could catch Javi singing along. By the time you were at Olivia Newton-John’s part, you had bursted into full out song, Javi snickering to himself watching your theatrics.

“You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man. And my heart is set on youuuuuuuuu!” You continued your performance through your laughing and dancing. It didn’t take long for you to spy out of the corner of your eye, Javi beginning to mouth the words to himself. You had already teased him enough about his enjoyment of the song that you weren’t about to say a single thing as he sang along. It warmed your heart to see Javi bring down his guard, letting you further and further into the world he lived in. Even if all it was, was singing together in his car. As the song ended, Javi turned down the music, his face suddenly becoming more serious.

“If you ever meet Steve, you have to swear to me you’ll never tell him about this. He will never let me live it down.”

“I’m not sure… I know very little about Steve, but the thought of how much shit he’d give you for your deep, dark, Grease secret does sound entertaining.”

Javi’s mood now having done a complete 180 from your last drive to the sandwich shop, you both headed into the grocery store happy and ready for the last part of your errands. Grabbing a cart, you headed through the produce section, starting with fruits.

“Okay, list says I need apples, bananas, blueberries and maybe strawberries if they’re good.” You both casually strolled, Javi reaching for the items from your list closest to you and putting them into your cart as you continued on your journey. You made your way through vegetables next, Javi very explicitly stating his distaste for the carrot sticks you had on your list.

“They’re so crunchy and bland, and they just remind me of feeding the horses.”

“You have horses at your ranch?”

“Yup, a few of them. Some of our family keeps their horses there, but Pops and I take care of them all.”

“That’s so cool! Do you have any other animals there?”

“Cows and sheep mostly. Some random chickens that we can’t seem to get rid of.”

“That’s amazing. The reason I chose Laredo to move to is because my best friend from elementary school moved down here when we were in high school, and I would visit her family every summer on their ranch. She always made fun of me for how it seemed like I was always more excited to see the animals than her.”

“You can come over to the ranch and see the animals if you want.”

“Really?!”

“Any time, Osita.”

You threw another bag of carrots into your cart. “If I want these horses to like me, I gotta bribe them with something!” Javi laughed, picking the bag up and putting it back with the other carrots.

“Baby, we have plenty of carrots at the ranch. I’m not eating any extras you get.”

You breezed through the rest of your trip, quickly filling up your cart as you and Javi talked more about his ranch, any other foods that fell into the same category as carrots (you were thankful that you both collectively agreed that olives belonged in the same realm), and made fun of you as you put the largest sized vanilla coffee creamer in with the rest of your items. Your checkout line experience was much more pleasant than the one you had experienced a few hours ago. Javi knew the older, frail man working the register, greeting him politely.

“Hi Mr. Garcia, how are you?”

“Javier Peña. Good to see you son. I heard from Chucho you ditched him at the ranch for a new job at the sheriff’s department.”

“I don’t know if ditch is the right word, still try to help out while I can.”

Polite smiles were exchanged as you continued to load items from your cart onto the conveyor belt.

“I don’t think I’ve met your wife before.” Mr. Garcia now looking at you. Javi just about dropped the carton of eggs he was carrying before responding. Part of him almost didn’t even want to correct it.

“Uh, no, um, girlfriend.”

“Well, she’s a cutie.” Mr. Garcia winked at you before you raised your eyebrows to smirk at a now very flustered and embarrassed Javi.

“I don’t know, Jav. Looks like you’ve got some competition. Mr. Garcia seems like a real catch.” You playfully winked back at him, causing the old man to rumble with laughter.

“And funny too.”

You loaded the bags back into your cart and paid for your groceries. As you were sorting, you overhead the two men talking.

“She’s a keeper, Javier.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Now a little louder, Mr. Garcia helped you load the last bag into your cart before saying goodbye. “Nice to see you Javi. Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.”

“Thanks Mr. Garcia, have a nice day!”

You began loading your items into Javi’s trunk, watching as his biceps flexed deliciously as he lifted the bags up to put them away. You really had to convince yourself to focus on putting the rest of your groceries away.

Your errands done for the day, you and Javi began the drive back to your apartment. It hadn’t hit you until you looked at the clock radio in his car that it was already 5 o’clock, and that your time with Javi was starting to dwindle, considering the fact that both of you had to work the next day. You glanced at him as he was driving, aviators propped on his face, the tanned skin of his chest exposed from the buttons he seemed to hate having done up, his arms grasping the steering wheel. The image of him made your heart race. Wanting to make sure you capitalized on your time, and realizing now you had zero self control, you were tempted to ask him to pull over his truck right then and there. No, you can make it until you get home, you horny idiot. You thought to yourself, knowing how pissed you would be if you ruined your groceries all because you couldn’t control yourself for a few more minutes. Subconsciously, you licked around your bottom lip, staring at the gorgeous man next to you.

“Hermosa?”

“Huh, what? Did you say something?” You shook your head to bring yourself back to reality.

“I asked if we needed to stop anywhere before we went back to your apartment.”

“Oh, no. I, uh, I don’t need anything else, sorry.”

“Something on your mind?” Javi prodded, noticing that you hadn’t fully been paying attention.

“No, nothing, I’m good.” He spotted the lie instantly. Grasping around the exposed meat of your thigh he gave it a squeeze before sliding his hand further up your leg.

“Sure you don’t have anything on your mind?” His hand now at your hip, fingers dancing along the hem of your shorts, grazing your skin. He knew exactly what he was doing. Your breathing sped up as you let a gulp fall down your throat. At this point, you were only 5 minutes away from your apartment, but you were absolutely positive you were not going to make it that long. Fuck it, your groceries would be fine, right?

“Pull over.”

Thankful for the long stretches of dirt roads and pockets of abandoned buildings on your way back to your apartment, Javi quickly pulled off to an empty parking lot of a closed down store. You were practically jumping into his lap by the time he had put the car in park. Mouths and tongues clashed as you pulled yourselves into one another. Your kissing reflected the sexual tension that had quickly built up in the truck only minutes ago as you frantically moved about. Feeling how worked up you were already, you sought to seek some form of relief by grinding down on the seam of Javi’s jeans, relieving some of the ache between your legs. Javi grabbed your hips, his fingers digging into the outside of your shorts as he pushed you down into him. He reciprocated the motion, pushing himself up into you, no better than two horny teenagers dry humping in the secret of their parent’s basement. Javi kissed your neck before the tickle of his mustache crept near your ear.

“So needy, baby. Couldn’t wait ‘till we got back, huh?”

In between your mouths meeting you were able to break away for a few moments to respond.

“Well if my boyfriend wasn’t so fucking hot it would have made it a lot easier. I want you so bad Javi.”

Just like that, Javi had you stripped down to your bra, practically ripping your tank top off you. You helped him shuffle down your shorts and thong, taking a moment to smack it against your ass before it looked around your ankles. His hand reached down to palm around your pussy, already wet from the short time you had spent grinding into his lap. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your folds, collecting your slick before dipping inside of you.

“Fuck Hermosa, always so wet for me. Want me to cum inside you like I did this morning? Fill you up?

Before you could answer, his thumb began a frantic pace against your clit to match the pace his fingers pumped in and out of you. He pulled his face closer into your breasts, kissing around them and sucking on your pebbled nipples. Your hips grinded down on his hand, pushing his fingers deeper in you. You tilted your head back and moaned in pleasure. His fingers continued in and out, hitting the spongy spot deep inside you that made you feel like you were about to come undone. That, matched with his calloused thumb rubbing against your bundle of nerves had you on the edge of collapse.

“Javi, fuck, fuck I’m almost there, I’m gonna-“

You felt the coil in your belly snap suddenly, as pleasure ran though you with a sheer intensity. Your hips came to a stop as you slumped into his body, breathing heavily. Your head rested in the crook of his neck as he whispered to you.

“Such a good fucking girl. Always taking me so well.”

As he watched you come down from your high, he gently pushed you further down his lap to undo his belt buckle and slide down his pants and boxers just low enough to let his already hard cock spring to its release. You scooted yourself further up again, licking your palm to wrap around Javi’s girth, stroking him a few times before raising your hips up to slowly sink down on his length. You gasped at the sweet sting of his size inside you, taking your time to adjust, lowering down on to him inch by inch. You both moaned as you bottomed out on him and you began to move yourself up and down, feeling him repeatedly filling you and hitting that incredible spot inside you. Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest as you sped up the intensity of your movements. Your clit rubbed against the jeans scrunched around his thighs as he began to lift his hips up into you.

“You feel so good, baby. Feels so good so deep in me, fuck.”

Javi watched you, awe struck as you continued to ride him, your boobs bouncing with each thrust, and head thrown back in pleasure as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“Jesus, you’re perfect, Hermosa. So tight and wet, so fucking sexy.

There was something about the low rasp of his voice singing your praises that absolutely made you lose your mind. The pace you now found both yourselves moving at was becoming fast and sloppy, so enthralled by each other, you could have cared less about the steering wheel digging into your back. You were filled by his deep, hard strokes, his dick repeatedly filling you and hitting you in a way that made your muscles begin to tense. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he reached beneath you to rub your clit. The tension spread through your body, your orgasm making you scream in delight. The pulsing of your pussy squeezed around Javi’s cock, practically sending him over the edge with you.

“Javi, holy fuck. I want you to come, baby. I want you to come inside me. It’s all yours.

Yours. You were all his. Your words sent him over the edge, knowing that he was the only one you wanted to be with. The only one to please you. The only one to make his mark inside of you. Only a few strokes more and Javi hit his high, letting out a low whimper as he felt himself release inside your warm, tight walls. His dick pulsed as his seed spilled into, leaving you two slumped into each other, breathless. A few moments after you both came to, you finally felt the wet spot you had left over Javi’s jeans, a mix of the two of you staining the denim.

“Fuck, Javi, I’m sorry, I fucking ruined your jeans.”

“They’re just jeans, Osita. Besides, it was fucking hot.”

You could see the dark pools of his eyes growing darker with lust as he reached down to the inside of your thigh, dripping with the combination of your release.

“Will you keep me inside you, baby? Keep you inside me so you know that you’re mine even when I have to leave?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Fuck. His request filled you with joy and hurt at the same time. You were his. Fucking his. At the same time, the thought of having come back to reality after the fantasy you had been living in the past 24 hours stung.

“I don’t want you to have to leave.” Shit, was that too needy? He had just spent the whole day with you. The little voice in the back of your head screamed at you again. Don’t get too ahead of yourself.

“I don’t want to have to leave either, Osita. I’m not going yet, I’ll hang out as long as I can. Would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Phew. “I don’t mean to ruin this super sweet and sexy moment, but do you think you can take your dick out of me so my groceries don’t go bad?”

You both laughed, Javi complying to your request as you shuffled off of his lap into the passenger seat, shimmying your clothes back on. He scooted his jeans back over him, tucking himself back in before doing up his belt buckle.

The trip back to your apartment was embarrassingly short, given that you couldn’t have made it approximately 4 more minutes before arriving back. Javi helped you gather your things, making fun of the thought of you trying to carry all your grocery bags up in one trip, you convincing him that you really could do it, if it was a smaller trip. Javi was very impressed with your organization as you put everything away in its exact spot, making unloading the groceries much quicker than expected. After you had finished, you looked back at Javi leaning against the counter.

“Javi, that stain on your jeans looks like you peed yourself, I feel really bad. Do you want me to wash them for you? I don't want you to have to carry evidence from the scene of the crime back home with you. I have laundry I have to do anyway, it’s no big deal at all.”

“That would probably be a good idea. Are you trying to get me to stay longer by holding my pants hostage in the wash?” You outstretched your hand.

“Guilty, your honor. Pants me, Peña.”

Another reason you had chosen your apartment was the in unit washer and dryer. The pain of having to haul your laundry from your 11th floor Chicago apartment down to a basement that looked like it was straight out of a horror movie was one of your least favorite chores, so having the ability to clean your clothes from the comfort of your room was a plus.

Javi undid his belt and slid both his pants and underwear down to the floor, leaving his bottom half very blatantly naked.

“Oh shit, I forgot you didn’t have any other pants.”

“Also part of your plan?”

“Surprisingly, no. Oh, I actually think I have a pair of my brother’s shorts that accidentally got packed away with my stuff when I moved!”

“I don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind oing full Winnie the Pooh until your pants are clean? Javi, believe me, I am not mad about this.” you gestured to his crotch. “The problem is, if your dick keeps staring at me like that, I will literally get nothing done the rest of the day, and I have to at least try a LITTLE bit to be productive.”

“Fair enough.” He waited as you shuffled through your drawers to find an old pair of gray cotton shorts, bringing them out and tossing them to him as you grabbed your hamper, made your way to the laundry room, and filled up your washer with your dirty clothes and Javi’s pants. After you had started up the wash cycle, you made your way back to the kitchen, where Javi was still standing, now covered by the shorts you had given him.

“God dammit, Javi.”

“What?” His face surprised as you came back into the kitchen.

“I think the shorts are making it worse.”

“What worse?”

“You might as well be naked, cause I can see… Well let’s just say that there’s very little left to the imagination and I will be using every ounce of willpower to keep myself from crawling all over you. Do you realize how hot you are? It’s truly not fair. Okay, let me just stare at you for one more second and then I can move on.” You crossed your arms as you looked Javi up and down while he chuckled to himself.

“You good?” He laughed.

“Good now.” You giggled, taking one more long look.

“What else do you want to get done tonight?”

“Well normally on Sunday I do laundry and just get ready for the week, make food, stuff like that. It makes it so much better, one, having you here, even though you’re making the getting things done part more challenging, and two because it’s finally the last week of school and the last time I have to do this again until August.”

“When’s your last day of school?”

“Thursday. Only 4 more days, even though it feels like it's going to be 154.”

“Are you doing anything on Thursday?”

“Besides collapsing into a pile from the relief that the school year is done, no. Why?”

“Can I take you out to celebrate your last day of school?”

You blushed. It shocked you how genuinely thoughtful Javi was. Or maybe, you had grown to accept your significant others not having any interest in you at all. There was one summer where it was the middle of July and Paul had asked you why you hadn’t been going into work, like he had literally forgotten what you did for a living, let alone take you out to celebrate it.

“Are you asking me on a date, Javi?” You teased, playfully.

He blushed too. “Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. That’s really sweet of you. What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking about dinner and a movie? Since you seem to enjoy giving me such a hard time about the lack of movies I’m caught up on.”

“I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.” You leaned into him wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I really want to see you before, but the end of the school year is absolutely insane, and there’s school events every night this week.”

“It’s okay, I remember how stressed my mom would be at the end of the year. The last week of school, my mom would tell me and my dad “Por favor. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres.”

“What does that mean?”

“Please don’t talk to me until the children are free.”

“Your mom hit the nail on the head with that one. Well I’m really excited for Thursday, thanks Javi.”

“Me too, Osita.”

You stared at each other for a moment in silence, taking the other in. Javi’s hand released itself from your waist to brush away hair from your face before cupping the side of your jaw to kiss you. Your heart sped up anytime Javi’s lips met yours, but there was something about this kiss that felt different. It was sweet. Tender. Gentle. The kind of kiss that screamed I’m so lucky you’re mine without saying a word. A kiss you hoped you’d never had to live without.

“I like you a lot, Javi.”

“I like you a lot too, Osita.”

“Sooooo, I have at least another hour and a half of keeping your pants hostage, and we clearly need to get you up to speed on your movie knowledge before Thursday, do you want to pick something out to watch?”

“Didn’t you say you had things you wanted to get done?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, well, those can be tomorrow's problems. Go pick out a movie you haven’t seen yet and now that I have real food, I’ll go get some snacks for us while we watch!”

“Sounds like a great plan.” He kissed the top of your head as you parted ways. You went to the kitchen to microwave a bag of popcorn while Javi spent a long time very intently staring at the VHS collection below your TV. You returned with a big bowl filled to the brim, curious to see what Javi’s pick would end up being. “Alright, I’m excited to see what we get to watch tonight!” You set the bowls down on the table at the end of your couch, unfolding one of the fluffy blankets you had draped over the end.

“I have a feeling you’re gonna be happy we’re watching it, but not happy about the fact I picked it.” He took the VHS from behind his back and placed it on your lap.

“NO. JAVI. YOU’VE NEVER SEEN STAR WARS?!”

“No…”

“SERIOUSLY?”

“Technically I did see it once when I was in high school but I don’t remember anything about it because I took a girl on a date to go see it and we just sat in the back of the theater and made out the whole time.”

“Romantic. Hate to break it to you, that will not be happening tonight if we’re watching this.” You patted the seat next to you on the couch, ushering him to go sit down as you pushed in the tape and pressed play. “I know I said Indiana Jones was my favorite movie but I actually think I lied. It’s 100% Star Wars.”

Without hesitation, you curled up next to Javi resting your head into his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you in closer as the theme music for the opening credits began blaring through your speakers. As the movie started, you could tell Javi was trying his hardest to watch intently, asking the occasional question to make sure he understood what was happening.

“Why do the tiny people in the robes have no faces and yellow eyes? Are they supposed to be bad guys? They’re not very scary.”

“They’re Jawwas, Javi. They’re little sand creatures that collect scrap parts and sell them. They’re not really good or bad, they just kind of hang out on Tatooine.”

“Jesus, you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.”

“Just shhhh and watch the movie.” You lovingly gave Javi a shove as he snickered.

As the movie continued, the two of you found yourselves sinking further and further into the couch, Javi now laying flat on his back, head propped against the pillows, and you on top of him, head propped on his chest. One of his arms rested on top of your back, tracing back and forth along your shoulders, the other demolishing handfuls of popcorn from the bowl he had found next to him. Javi definitely didn’t strike you as someone who would be much of a cuddler, but in the short time you had spent with him, you quickly realized this man wanted to be touching you in some way, shape or form at all times. He may have looked tough, but this man was a big ole softie. Right around the point where Luke, Han and Chewie were making their way to break Princess Leia out of her cell, you pushed yourself up off of Javi with a quick kiss.

“Hey wait, where are you going? It’s getting really good!” He grabbed your hand, almost pleading with his puppy dog eyes for you to stay on the couch with him.

“I just have to go change the laundry to the dryer really quick, unless you wanna go home in wet denim. Also apparently get more popcorn “Mr. No I’m not that hungry, I don’t want any”. I’ll be right back, promise.”

You gave him a quick kiss as you got up, threw another bag of popcorn in the microwave and moved your clothes to the dryer. Shaking the hot popcorn bag and refilling your bowl, you climbed back on top of Javi, nestling yourself comfortably against his broad frame. You were relieved that Javi was genuinely into the movie, making comments and remarks after big action scenes, popcorn making a constant path from the bowl to his mouth. He was like a 12 year old boy trapped in a grown man’s body. It made you wonder how many other people had gotten to see this side of Javi before. It was no secret to you that whatever past he carried weighed on him heavily. His mom, Lorraine, Colombia. Even though you didn’t know the whole story, it made you hopeful to think you could be part of a new chapter that brought him a little more joy than he had before.

As the ending scene credits rolled, you leaned your head up to him. “Soooooo… what’d ya think? Better than a high school make out session in a dark movie theater?”

“There’s other ones right? Can we watch more of them? Osita, I can see why you like this so much. There’s some stuff in it that’s fuckin’ weird, but I guess it’s space, but it was really good.”

“Absolutely we can. I do hope you know, the more we watch, the nerdier I will get.”

As the VHS ended and a silence filled the room, you realized the dryer was finished and had stopped running, and the monotonous tick of the clock behind your TV read 9:17 PM. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask Javi to leave. How could you? But your lack of accomplished to-do’s and the looming screams of 8 and 9 year olds at 7:30 tomorrow morning already had you feeling the impending headache already building behind your eyes. The huff of disappointment you let out of you was much louder than you had hoped, and Javi knew exactly why.

“I don’t want to go either, Osita. But tomorrow is gonna kick both of our asses if I don’t leave.”

“Yeah, I know…” your lip let out a pout.

“Thursday will come fast, I promise. Even if I can’t see you, I’ll call you and we can at least talk on the phone if you’re up for it.”

“Fine. I will release you and your jeans from my custody. Let me go grab them for you.”

Hopping off the couch, you threw your clean clothes back into your hamper to be sorted later, pulling out Javi’s jeans and boxers to give back to him.

Bringing the pair back to the couch, you found Javi leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for you to return.

“Just so you know, in this apartment, there is a 3 kiss minimum to obtain any clothing items belonging to your bottom half.” You pressed into him, dangling the pants and underwear in your outstretched arm.

“What happens if I give you more than 3?”

“You can use them as a down payment towards your next set of pants you need to get back from me.”

“God, you’re such a dork.”

“Kiss me or lose the pants, Peña. Choice is yours.”

You shrieked and dropped the jeans as Javi suddenly wrapped his arms underneath you and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“One…” He leaned in to peck your lips in between your giggles.

“Two…” Another kiss landed on your mouth, a little longer than the last.

“Three.” A final slow and sweet set of lips grazed across yours, his mustache tickling you as he pulled away and set you gently back on your feet.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Javi laughed as he reached down for his clothes, shuffling the gray shorts down his legs, and exchanging them for his boxers and jeans. “Could be worse.” As he finished running his belt through the jean’s loopholes, you went to your fridge to rip a fresh piece of paper from your grocery list, and began scribbling.

“For you.” You reached out your arm, handing Javi a note with your phone number and a smiley face and a cute doodle of a bear.

“Thanks, Osita.” You found yourself both begrudgingly making your way to the front door, as Javi slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys, finally admitting defeat that the weekend had to come to an end.

“Will you call me when you get home so I know you made it back safe?”

“Of course.” He reached down to cup your face, your lips meeting one last time, savoring every sweet second before he pulled away to run a hand through your hair and kiss the top of your head. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday, okay?”

“Okay.”

He reached down for the doorknob, slowly twisting it and opening the door, revealing the empty hallway he was about to walk down. “I’ll see you soon, Osita.”

“Not soon enough. See you on Thursday, Javi.”

He gave your outstretched hand one more squeeze before finally letting go, the door quietly clicking as it shut behind him.

In that moment, there was one thing you knew for certain. You had it bad for Javier Peña.

Finally coming down from your lovestruck high, you looked around your apartment to realize you had done very few things on your list to get ready for tomorrow. Mentally prioritizing, you cleaned up your living room, laid out your clothes, and changed your sheets, making a note that if you were going to keep seeing Javi like this, there needed to be more in the rotation. Once you finished, you brought your laundry out to the living room, turning on the TV and folding, waiting for Javi to call.

Little did you know, Javi spent the entire rest of his ride home imagining you by his side, as listened to the rest of the Grease soundtrack.

As he pulled into the ranch and made his way into the house, he had never been more relieved to find his dad passed out in his armchair with the TV blasting, thankful to avoid questionings about his whereabouts- at least for now.

Quietly making his way to his room and closing the door, he took the cell phone out of his back pocket, along with your note, and pressed his fingers into each number.

You barely let one ring go by before dropping the laundry that was in your hands and springing towards the phone.

“Hi, Javi.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Not many people are calling me at 9:45 at night just to chat. You make it home okay?”

“Yeah, I did. I’ll let you get to bed, but I just wanted to let you know I had a lot of fun this weekend. I’m uh, I’m really glad that you like spending time with me.”

“I am too, Javi. I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time.”

“I’ll call you later this week and we can talk details for Thursday?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Okay. Duerme bien y dolces sueños, Osita.”

Something about his voice in Spanish practically melted your heart. “Something about good and sweet?” You tried to translate.

“Sleep well and sweet dreams.”

“Well in that case, duerme bien y dolces sueños a ti tambien, Javi.”

“Bye, Osita.”

“Bye.”

After hearing the click on the end of your line, you hung your phone back on the receiver, putting your hands in your face and letting out a little scream to yourself. Yeah, you had it REAL bad for Javier Peña.

518 notes · View notes

gleamingyu · 8 months

Text

anti-hero.

part II of the midnights series. inspired by taylor swift’s midnights. part I

pairing: music-producer!seungcheol x lawyer!fem!reader [exes-to-lovers]

genre: angst. fluff.

warnings: she/her pronouns for reader (but no specific physical characteristics). a bucketload of angst (i'm so sorry). light cursing. terrible knowledge of law stuff. so much crying yikes. miscommunication & misunderstandings. mentions of drinking and allusions to driving under the influence (do not do that ever!!). reader might seem a bit unlikeable in this chapter, but it's all part of the plot, okay?? she's trying her best. mentions of intimacy and sex (??), nothing graphic tho. slow burn. alternating povs. jihan as my lovely, beautiful, in love babies (yes they're a couple). some petnames (baby, babe). flashbacks are in italics. lower caps intended [if there’s anything i missed, please let me know!]

word count: approx. 8.1k (idk what happened)

notes: finally managed to work on my baby again. i'm sorry for the long wait but i had a lot of shit going on :/ thank you to everyone who showed love on the first part, i love each and every single on of you!! once again, likes, reblogs and comments are more than appreciated :)

summary: seungcheol wants to fix things; you want to avoid him at all costs. one thing is for sure, though. neither of you will have closure until you talk.

four months ago

the silence ringing inside seungcheol’s ears was even louder than the ambient noise of the restaurant he found himself in.

he genuinely couldn’t believe you were doing this to him again. the time was nearing 8 p.m., almost an hour later than when you were supposed to be here, and seungcheol was trying very hard to ignore the pitiful glances the waiters were not-so-subtly throwing him. he didn’t know what frustrated him more; the fact this was the seventh date you were clearly canceling on, or that you hadn’t updated him on your whereabouts in almost half an hour. if you weren’t going to show up, the least you could do is call and let seungcheol know you were gonna meet him at home.

home. funny how the word no longer brought a sense of peace in seungcheol’s heart.

just as he was about to get up and leave, seungcheol felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his pants, and his heart soared when he saw your name displayed on the screen. maybe you were going to make it after all, maybe you could still enjoy the nice evening he had planned, maybe…

“cheol… i’m so sorry.”

you were not coming.

seungcheol could tell from the apologetic tone in your voice. he didn’t even hear the next words that came from your end, whatever excuse you had to offer getting lost in the sound of his heart breaking. the grip he had on his phone was the only thing anchoring him in that moment, his eyes closed as he was trying to push down the tears that were threatening to spill out. he could hear you calling his name, are you there? but all he could offer was an “i’ll see you at home” before ending the call.

there was no part of you that was ready to face what awaited you on the other side of your apartment door.

the day hadn’t gone as you’d planned. you knew seungcheol had plans for the two of you that evening, so you had decided to wake up and go to the office earlier than usual in order to finish what you were working on in time for your date. but when you woke up that morning, you found seungcheol in the kitchen, diligently trying his best at making breakfast for the two of you. you melted at the sight of your boyfriend wearing your peach-colored apron – and nothing underneath but a pair of sweatpants – and you didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he oh-so-gleefully presented you with what could only be described as an admirable attempt at pancakes. moments like these were rare in your lives, with both of your hectic schedules and whatnot, so you sat down and enjoyed the warmth that came from the food, the sun coming in through the curtains, and seungcheol’s smile.

the sense of peace that came with spending the morning with seungcheol quickly dispersed once you arrived at the office and realized you were late, which gave your boss – mr. moon, a pathetic, greedy, and cruel excuse of a man who lived to make the lives of his employees a living hell – the perfect excuse to make you his target of the day. in addition to the case you were supposed to work on, mr. moon decided to dump on you stacks of paperwork that apparently needed to be taken care of by tonight, a task that normally a damn paralegal could take care of – no offense to paralegals.

normally you wouldn’t put up with this type of behavior. you weren’t raised to let people just walk all over you as they damn pleased. but around the office, there was one unspoken rule that everyone learned as soon as they started working here; ‘whatever mr. moon says, goes.’ besides, moon was the only person on the board of directors that could veto promotions in the firm, so until you could see the words senior associate inscribed under your name on the door of your office, you’d have to shut your mouth and take whatever was thrown at you with your head held high.

that isn’t to say that sometimes you wished mr. moon would get hit by a bus, ‘mean girls’ style. today had been one of those days, as the hours trickled by, closer and closer to when you should leave for your date with seungcheol, and yet mr. moon seemed to have a continuous stream of tasks that needed to be done, by you specifically. you realized you would never make it in time to see seungcheol, and so, tonight marked the seventh date you had to cancel because of work.

now, with the time on your phone reading 22:32, you were standing outside your apartment, bracing yourself for the talk you knew you were going to have with seungcheol. letting out a big exhale, you punched in the door code and let yourself in, the quietness of the apartment immediately enveloping you.

for a split second, you thought seungcheol might have gone to sleep already, but the faint sound of glass redirected you towards the kitchen, where you found said man standing by the kitchen island, nursing a glass of wine. you recognized the bottle mingyu had gifted him on his birthday that year, some fancy brand you’d never heard of before. as you stepped closer, the dim light of the kitchen finally illuminating you, seungcheol turned towards you, an inscrutable look on his face.

after four years of learning, knowing, loving seungcheol, you prided yourself in being able to discern what he was feeling at any given moment. but now, standing in front of him, you were scared to admit that you couldn’t read whatever feelings his eyes held. it made you feel uneasy, the way it seemed like he was looking through you, into you, and you wished you could come up with something to say to disturb the uncomfortable silence, but saying i’m sorry seemed redundant in that moment.

“a bit late, isn’t it?” seungcheol spoke up, and your heart clenched at the cold, almost mocking tone of his voice.

“i know, but i couldn’t get out faster. no matter what i said, my boss kept piling up my work and i just… i couldn’t. i’m so sorry… you know i wanted to come, more than anything. i really did,” you said, silently pleading that seungcheol would forgive you.

“i’m sure you did,” seungcheol gruffed, turning his attention back to the wine before him.

“cheol… don’t be like this, please…” you tried getting closer to him, but his body whipped towards you, his eyes narrowing at you.

“like what, exactly? angry? frustrated? sad? disappointed? i can be like that, actually, seeing as this is the seventh time in 3 months you’ve ditched me for work, apparently!” seungcheol spewed, making you take several steps back. your body tenses.

“‘apparently?’ what is that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, it just seems very unlikely that you’d have to sometimes spend more than twelve hours at work. i mean, you’re a lawyer, aren’t you? surely, you should know everything about workplace laws,” seungcheol bit back. he’s never spoken to you like this before, ever, the mockery in his voice surely aimed to hurt you. you felt anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach, but you tried your best to stay calm, for the sake of both of you.

“seungcheol,” you said, and you couldn’t help feeling a twinge of satisfaction seeing his eyebrows raise in surprise after hearing you use his full name. “if you have something to say, i’d rather you just do it, instead of insinuating it.”

seungcheol fell quiet for a moment, glancing down at his feet. “i meant it when i said i was held back at work, cheol. why would i lie about that?” you continued.

“for the past two years that you’ve been working there, you know i never once met any of your coworkers? i’ve never even stepped foot into your office, for god’s sake! you’ve been to my studio countless of times, you know the people i’m closest to, i’ve invited you to all the events the label organizes, so i just can’t understand! i don’t understand why you’re dead-set on keeping me away from that part of your life! and it makes me think… it makes me feel like i’m not enough, like you’re ashamed of me–”

“that’s absolutely not true, cheol!” you jumped in. you couldn’t even entertain the thought of seungcheol feeling self-conscious because of you, when it was the furthest thing you wanted. “i think you’re the most talented person i know, the most passionate, hard-working, smart… beautiful… i could never be ashamed of you.”

unshed tears were clinging to both of your lashes, heavy breathing echoing around the kitchen. how could you let things get so bad?

“it made me think there was someone else,” seungcheol breathes out.

the air gets stuck in your throat, the tears brimming in your eyes finally sliding down your face. “cheol… how could… there never was anyone! i swear, all the nights i would come home late, it was because of my work! i swear, i would never… you’re the only person that’s ever on my mind…”

silence fell over you and seungcheol, the words thrown between you slowly sinking in. seungcheol sniffled, taking a seat at the round table in the middle of the kitchen; you wished you could go to him, gather him in your arms, even though he’s too big to fit in completely, but you knew that this was probably the last thing seungcheol wanted from you in that moment.

“why don’t you quit?”

seungcheol looked up to you, the sadness in his gaze so intense it made you look away, knowing you’re to blame for it. “you complain so much about it… the hours, the work, the boss, the people. why can’t you just leave?”

you breathed in, thinking over seungcheol’s words. “because… because i love doing what i do. i feel about law the way you feel about music. it’s just the environment that’s shitty. but it’s something… that’s mine. and the kind of opportunities i got at this firm… people just starting out, like me, don’t come by them very often usually.”

there was a pause as seungcheol mulled over your words. a part of you thought, hoped, that the way the conversation was going would lead to fixing things, but then seungcheol spoke up again, and you knew. there was no fixing, not anymore.

“i was yours, too. and i would’ve never chosen music over you.”

“you say that now, but if you were put in a situation where you had to choose, i don’t think you’d have as easy of a time as you say.”

“i guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

and that was the end of it.

three days after your unexpected reunion with seungcheol, you find yourself back at PLEDIS, ready to tackle jihoon’s case.

the morning had gone on normally enough, with people coming in to give their testimonies regarding jihoon, his work and their relationships with him. as expected, no one had come forward with any potentially harmful or negative remarks about him, everyone applauding him for his tireless dedication to the label and the artists he worked with, as well as marveling at his seemingly innate musical talent and creativity. this was no surprise to you; having known jihoon for almost as long as you’d known seungcheol, you witnessed first-hand jihoon’s mastery of his craft, on multiple occasions. and now, with all the information you had gathered in the past three hours since arriving at PLEDIS, you were starting to feel more confident about winning this lawsuit.

initially, you had no intention of taking on jihoon’s case. the previous weekend, when mr. moon had called you in, you arrived at the firm with your mind set on demanding a break. in the past months, you might as well have changed your home address to the office, seeing as you had been working non-stop on one case after another, pulling countless sleepless nights and taking on extra paperwork as favors to some of your coworkers. and after finding out what the case was actually about, you were even more adamant about turning it down. but all the excuses you offered mr. moon were effectively shut down, leaving you almost begging the man to pass the case to someone else.

before you could use your past relationship with the other in-house music producer working at PLEDIS as an excuse, mr. moon delivered the lowest of low blows. “you know, a high profile case like this could attract lots of new clients for the firm… and put you right on the track for senior associate.”

there was no use arguing anymore after that. moon knew how much you wanted that promotion, and you were honestly not surprised to see him using it against you in order to force you into doing whatever work he wanted you to. so you shut your mouth, took the case, and then went home and cried.

yes, you cried. moving on.

seeing seungcheol again, and unexpectedly so, definitely set you a few steps back in whatever emotional healing you had done in the past few months. and it definitely made you doubt your own abilities as a lawyer. if you couldn’t put aside your personal feelings and instead focus on helping a guy who was being wrongfully accused, were you even meant to practice the law? but you had worked far too hard and sacrificed far too much to let these thoughts cloud your judgment and confidence, so you told yourself that even if you had to be in seungcheol’s proximity for the foreseeable future, your main priority was winning this case. for jihoon, and for yourself.

of course, planning to ignore the obvious feelings you still harbored for your ex-boyfriend was way easier than actually ignoring them. now, as you were gathering your things to meet wonwoo in the conference room he was stationed in, you were also mentally preparing yourself for the off-chance that you would bump into seungcheol again. considering how your luck’s been going in the past few weeks, you think the chances are pretty high.

walking through the halls of PLEDIS felt oddly familiar, and yet strange at the same time. when you and seungcheol first started dating, the label was just starting out, carrying all its business in a measly two-story building on the outskirts of town. you felt a tiny knot forming at the back of your throat, thinking how crazy it was to have witnessed the immense growth that seungcheol went through as an artist and a person, and now, to be walking amongst the fruits of the labor of his work, and so many other people’s, who built the label from the ground up.

as you grow nearer to the conference room where wonwoo was most likely waiting for you, you suddenly catch a whiff of a scent all too familiar to you. musky notes of jasmine and bergamot fill your senses, and for a brief moment, you feel an almost supernatural pull urging you to follow the indistinguishable fragrance.

you know exactly where it leads. but now is not the time.

before you can push the door open and walk into the room, your phone’s screen lights up with a text message. ‘hey honey. can you call when you have the time? she’s not having a very good day…’

you sigh, before dialing your mom’s number.

four years ago

seungcheol always smelled divine.

over the years, you’d heard so many of your friends go on and on about their boyfriends’ perfumes, and how once they found the right scent, they could charm the pants off of them with just the smell of their cologne. to you, that idea seemed entirely far-fetched, because, after all, people aren’t dogs. who in their right mind would base their selection of a partner on something as feeble as smell? even more so, an artificial smell, that didn’t even last forever.

clearly, since a few weeks ago, you haven’t been in your right mind, because you swore there was nothing better in this world than the way seungcheol smelled.

all your friends kept telling you that they’d never seen you act like this before. the honeymoon phase of your relationship had hit you pretty hard, and you were completely smitten with cheol. his smile, his eyes, his dimples, his laugh, his hair, his charm… and his scent, you couldn’t get enough of him. and now, as you were making your way towards PLEDIS together, you couldn’t help but wish you could nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and stay there forever.

it was your first time seeing where seungcheol worked. you had been wanting to see his studio ever since he had first told you about his job (and proved that he wasn’t one of those wannabe soundcloud rappers or whatever), but considering the label wasn’t exactly in a central location, getting there proved slightly difficult. not to mention that most days, your classes ran pretty late, and seungcheol shared his studio with jihoon, the other music producer at PLEDIS, which meant you couldn’t pop in whenever you had a window of free time, so as to not disturb them.

that night, however, seungcheol decided you deserved a break from your studies, and since your midterms were coming up, it might have been one of the last times you could afford to go out before getting swept up in the craziness of exam season. so after your last class of the day, seungcheol picked you up from campus and drove you outside of town, where PLEDIS stood.

“are you absolutely sure it’s alright for me to be here? i don’t want you to get in trouble with your… superiors, if that’s what you call them,” you said, walking up the stairs closely behind cheol.

“i already told you, it’s fine! besides, you’re not planning to steal any confidential information and spread it online, are you?” he teased, stopping in front of a door that you assumed was his studio.

“hmm, i don’t know… what makes you think i’m not secretly working for one of your competitors?”

seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head, before looking back at you. “oh, baby, you and i both know you like me too much to hurt me so,” he said, finally unlocking the door and letting you step inside.

well, he wasn’t wrong.

to most people, seungcheol and jihoon’s studio might not have looked like much. it held all the standard recording and mixing equipment one would expect to find there, along with personal touches from the boys, like pictures with their friends, some posters, a couple of cd racks, as well as a couch and two huge leather desk chairs. one the other side, inside the recording booth, you could see a keyboard, a couple of guitars, and a drum set, as well as some microphones, of course. to someone who’s never stepped foot in a recording studio before, like you, the place was amazing. and not just because cheol worked in there.

“i know it’s not a lot…” seungcheol mumbles, moving besides you, his arm stretched out in a way that said you could walk around.

your hands grazed the equipment on his desk, holding yourself back in fear of breaking something. “i like it, cheol. it’s homely, and cozy. definitely a good space to get those creative juices flowing,” you gave him a genuine smile, which you could tell instantly put him at ease from the way his shoulders visibly relaxed. he grinned at you, pulling up next to you by the sound board.

“you wanna see how the magic happens?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. you couldn’t help but groan, rolling your eyes.

“cheol, that was so cheesy… but yes, i do. please,” you said, giddy smiles taking over both of your faces.

“okay! come here,” he said, pulling you into his lap as he sat down in his desk chair. you felt your cheeks heat up at his actions, so natural and nonchalant, totally unaware of the effect he had on you. how could he be so oblivious, and quite literally torture you so? being so close to him now, his cologne starting to overpower your senses, you were sure to go dizzy.

“i’m gonna use one of the demos i have here, but for the record, i did not play anything for you while you were here, got it?” seungcheol said, opening an audio file on his laptop.

“yes, sir!” you gave him a wink, his ears turning red. cute.

for the next couple of minutes, seungcheol gives you a rundown on the soundboard, showing you what goes into recording and mixing a song, and even letting you play around with the different settings for pitch and autotune. even though it was all very interesting, nothing compared to just watching seungcheol’s excitement and passion while talking about music. every time your conversations would somehow turn towards music, his face would light up like a kid’s on christmas morning, his whole body animatedly gesturing while he rattled on about his favorite artists and composers, whatever new album came out that week, and even why a song with a good bass line is guaranteed to become a hit (yes, that was an actual discussion the two of you had once). seeing the obvious love he harbored for this art form made you ten times more enamored with him. you could already tell his passion and hard work were going to take him places, and you couldn’t wait to see it all.

“cheol? how did you know you wanted to do music?” you asked, turning to look up at your boyfriend.

“oh, wow, we’re going for the deep stuff, huh?” he laughed.

“you don’t have to share if you don’t want to, i was just curious… you always talk so passionately about it, i could just tell it means a lot to you.”

seungcheol sighed, leaning back into the chair. “it’s alright. i really don’t know how i got here, to be honest. i’ve always been interested in music, and found myself writing and experimenting with sound. one day, i just knew that i couldn’t really picture myself doing anything else. so i focused on that and worked my ass off, i guess.”

“well, clearly?! we’re sitting in your own studio! i’d say you’re doing pretty great,” you exclaimed, smiling at seungcheol’s blushing cheeks. “you should be proud of yourself, cheol, really.”

seungcheol can’t even look at you right now, too overcome with giddiness at the onslaught of compliments you’re suddenly throwing his way. instead, he shoves his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling a quiet ‘thanks.’

“is it hard to come up with new music?” you continue, playing with the strings of the hoodie he was wearing.

“hmm, it depends,” his voice is muffled, and you flinch at the ticklish feeling of his breath fanning on your neck. “there are days when i can put down a whole song and melody at once; sometimes it takes me weeks to be satisfied with a song i’m working on. but lately i’ve been feeling more… inspired than usual, so it’s been going pretty well.”

you turn your face towards him, a teasing smile stretching across your lips. “oh, really? how come?”

seungcheol returns your smile, his fingers pressing slightly harder into your skin where they sat on your waist. “just someone i met recently… they’re really nice and beautiful and funny and smart,” now it was your turn to grow shy, feeling your cheeks and chest grow warm at the implication of his words. “but i think jihoon is growing tired of all the ballads i’ve been writing.”

you both fall into a fit of giggles, your faces so impossibly close, your noses brush. “poor jihoon… whatever will he do?” you whisper, and before you can breathe in again, seungcheol’s lips fall against yours.

the air in your lungs dissipates in seconds. your entire body is ablaze, and you swear your hearing no longer registers the music playing from seungcheol’s laptop, instead becoming attuned to the sound of cheol’s soft sighs. you want this moment to last forever, to melt into his embrace, ingrain yourself into his very existence. his lips grow more and more fervent against yours, and you swear your mind goes blank, the only thought even going through your head in that moment a chant of his name. cheol, cheol, cheol, cheol…

later that night, once you’re home, getting ready for bed, you catch a whiff of seungcheol’s cologne again, the scents of his perfume imbued into your sweatshirt. you can’t help but smile like an idiot.

you didn’t wash that sweatshirt for a week after.

no matter how much seungcheol loved his friends, he couldn’t go on another second hearing jeonghan and joshua discuss whether they should choose lilies or hydrangeas for their wedding (because the good ol’ rose is too much of a cliche, apparently, according to joshua).

an exasperated sigh escaped him, his whole body slouching from the weight of the gloom he was carrying. jeonghan and joshua, who had been animatedly bantering over wedding preparations, suddenly go quiet, their heads snapping up to look at their friend. if this was a cartoon, they swore you would see a huge, gray cloud hanging above his head.

“alright, you gotta tell us what’s got you all pouty and gloomy, because this? this is just sad, cheol,” said joshua, gesturing at seungcheol’s crouched figure.

he sighed again, but straightened his back this time. the truth was, nothing particularly bad had happened today. but the day hadn’t gone as seungcheol had initially planned.

that morning, seungcheol had arrived at work determined to talk to you. seeing you again earlier that week had broken down the walls seungcheol had put up in the months following your breakup, and all the emotions he had tried pushing behind those walls – anger, sadness, frustration, yearning, love – were slowly, but surely, seeping back in. there was no point denying it anymore; seungcheol was not ready to let go just yet.

taking jihoon’s advice to heart, he decided to ‘grow some balls’ and initiate a discussion with you, one that you probably should’ve had before any of the shit that went down between the two of you could’ve gone down. seungcheol knew, deep down, that you were hiding something, and thought that once both of your cards were out on the table, you could either work on fixing what’s been broken, or you could both gain some closure and move on with your lives.

seungcheol was desperately hoping for the first option.

either way, whatever plans seungcheol had made were quickly put on hold when he arrived at his meeting and only found your colleague, jeon wonwoo, waiting for him in the conference room. he’d made himself look like an idiot, bluntly asking about your whereabouts, disappointment clear on his face at your lack of presence, which only got him an inscrutable look from wonwoo (who made a mental note to check in with you about this little outburst, for safety reasons). wonwoo hadn’t mentioned anything about you throughout the interview, which in retrospect, seungcheol realized, was more than normal, considering wonwoo probably had no idea that the two of you even dated before. if anyone at your firm would’ve known about your previous relationship, he imagines you wouldn’t even be here, working on this case. conflict of interest and all.

in the end, seungcheol had no idea whether you were even at PLEDIS at all, and didn’t even have time to ask around for you, having a number of recording sessions planned for the rest of the morning. it wasn’t until jeonghan called and invited him out for lunch with him and joshua, that seungcheol left his studio again. when his friends greeted him outside the restaurant they decided on, they held back from commenting on his sulky expression.

seungcheol didn’t tell them that he had half a mind to turn down their invitation when he heard where the couple wanted to meet. IL GRATO was your favorite place in town (you used to say because it was where seungcheol had taken you on your first date), and the restaurant held plenty of the many happy memories you and seungcheol had made over the years. obviously, seungcheol wasn’t particularly keen on revisiting them today, but he didn’t want to seem more pathetic than he already felt, so he shut up and pretended everything was fine.

that didn’t last long, evidently.

“why don’t you just call her? she’s obligated to answer, now that she’s working on jihoon’s situation, right? ask to schedule a meeting with her or something,” jeonghan said, sipping on his glass of prosecco.

“and what reason could i give her for a meeting? that jeon dude already asked me anything he could about jihoon, so i can’t use anything about the case,” seungcheol mumbled. “and saying i wanna discuss the clear unresolved feelings left between us is guaranteed to get her to hang up on me.”

joshua, who had been intently listening to seungcheol’s whines, suddenly perks up, grabbing seungcheol’s shoulder. “cheol, didn’t you mention jeon said he still had some interviews lined up after lunch time?”

seungcheol frowned. “yeah? what difference does it make?”

“well, dumbass, if Y/N was in fact at PLEDIS all this time, that means that she’s probably in one of the conference rooms on the same floor as him. and since most staff clock out at 5 p.m., i’d say you still have about half an hour to go back, find her, and talk to her. like you said you wanted,” joshua explained pointedly, giving seungcheol a look that screamed you have to do it or else i will hurt you.

joshua was right. how could he have been so stupid, to completely overlook what wonwoo had mentioned off-handedly at the end of their meeting. he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you and wonwoo had split up to cover more ground in collecting testimonies, and now he was at risk of completely missing his chance to see you, unless he hauled ass to PLEDIS immediately.

seungcheol shot up from his seat, quickly gathering his things and throwing his credit card on the table, before dashing for the front door. “you guys are the best! lunch is on me!” he shouted, before taking off running.

jeonghan and joshua look at each other, before bursting into giggles. jeonghan sighs, “i need them to resolve this issue before the wedding, really. i won’t be able to handle it if seungcheol mopes around during the whole ceremony.”

joshua cooed, rolling his eyes. “you simply can’t rush love, babe,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to his lover’s cheek.

jeonghan rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the spreadsheet full of wedding prep details laid out on the table. a mischievous glint gleamed in his eyes, as he turned to look at joshua. “so, my dear joshuji, how about lilies for the flower displays?”

“JEONGHAN, I SAID NO!”

nine months ago

when you and seungcheol arrived at IL GRATO, jeonghan and joshua were already inside, patiently waiting at the table they had booked for your party of four, wearing two oddly calm smiles on their faces.

to say you and seungcheol weren’t suspicious at all would be a lie.

jeonghan had called earlier that week to invite the two of you on a double date that weekend – which wasn’t unusual, since the four of you had been going on dates like these since forever – but what had put you and seungcheol on edge was the ‘news’ jeonghan mentioned he and joshua had to share.

you and seungcheol had been going through a rough patch in the past two weeks, and this fact wasn’t unknown to your group of friends. the two of you were not the type to air out your dirty laundry, so for your friends to notice the growing tension between you meant that things were truly going badly. even though neither you or seungcheol had verbalized this to each other, you were both worried that tonight’s double date was just a cover up for an intervention, aimed to make you and seungcheol work through whatever it was bothering you two. jeonghan and joshua were seungcheol’s oldest and closest friends, and they never shied away from confronting seungcheol (and you, after you were welcomed into their friend group), especially when it came to his well-being, both physical and mental. you had been preparing your defense all week, just in case they decided to bring the situation up (and you also realized how desperately you needed a break from work).

after settling in and exchanging common pleasantries about your lives and work, the four of you put in your orders (jeonghan ordering the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu, much to yours and seungcheol’s surprise), and after the waiter brought the drinks along, you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that had been bothering you all week.

“so, you two said you had some news to share, right?”

jeonghan and joshua exchange a secretive look, and you only just notice the blush that seems to grace their faces. they looked like teenagers in love. you couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of envy.

“i guess there’s no reason to beat around the bush…” joshua said, looking again towards jeonghan.

“we’re getting married!” the other continues, leaning back into his seat to throw an arm around joshua, grinning from ear to ear.

silence falls over the table, as you and seungcheol drink in jeonghan’s revelation. you jump out of your seat, genuine excitement and joy overtaking you, as you walk around the table to hug and congratulate the two men. a string of high-pitched ‘oh my gods’ leave your lips, gaining the attention of a few other restaurant patrons, but you honestly couldn’t care less, too happy for your dear friends to pay attention to them.

as you make your way back to your seat, holding tightly onto joshua’s hand, you notice that seungcheol was eerily quiet, silently watching his friends, his eyes wide and unblinking. you lay a hand onto his arm, squeezing. “cheol… aren’t you going to say something?” you whisper.

that seems to snap him out of his daze, a gasp escaping him, before his hands come up to cover his face. you, joshua, and jeonghan exchange a concerned look, completely blindsided by seungcheol’s unexpected reaction, since he was as one of jeonghan and joshua’s loudest supporters (he had been betting on the two of them getting together since they were teenagers). but before either of you can say something else, seungcheol looks up, unshed tears swimming along his lash line.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. “i just can’t… believe… that neither of you told me! you traitors! you were planning to get engaged and i just find out at the same time as everyone else?” seungcheol pouts, his dramatics leaving the rest of you in tears.

“hey! what is that supposed to mean?” you tease, trying to calm your laughter down.

“no offense, baby, but me and the boys? we have history,” seungcheol winks, before turning back to his friends. “which means i should have priority to all life-changing news in your lives!”

the table falls into laughter once again, before jeonghan and joshua proceed to give you and seungcheol all the details he was claiming they had been keeping away from him. the rest of the evening goes like this, drinks and food shared around, and you almost forget about whatever problems your own relationship has been having, too busy reveling in the love radiating from the couple in front of you.

that night, on the drive home, you and seungcheol fall into comfortable silence, a first in the past weeks. you don’t know if it’s the buzz from the alcohol you drank, or the crooning voice of whatever singer was playing on the radio, but you can’t help but look over to seungcheol’s side, your eyes glancing over the side of his face. he was so handsome, cheeks blushed and hair messy from tonight’s laughter. you wanted to lean over and run the tips of your fingers over the edges of his face, pour everything you couldn’t say into just one touch. please forgive me, just trust me…

“what’s the staring for?” seungcheol speaks, and you whip your head around, looking out the window on your side.

“ah, i wasn’t staring!” you mumble, feeling your face grow hot. “was just thinking… about tonight.”

he smiles, briefly glancing your way. “me too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

a beat passes before seungcheol speaks up again. “when we get married, what would you want our wedding to be like?”

your heart swells when you realize he said ‘when’ instead of ‘if,’ but you can’t help but tease him a little bit. “‘when?’ i haven’t even said ‘yes’ yet, cheollie,” you smirk, turning your face towards him again.

evidently, seungcheol catches onto your little joke, but he plays into it. “emphasis on ‘yet’, baby. now answer the question!”

“okay, okay,” you chuckle. “well, i think i’d like something small… just our closest family and friends… maybe somewhere outside the city, like in the countryside, something like that,” you say decidedly, already daydreaming about all the possibilities.

“what about the beach? i think a beach wedding would be so cool… do you think your mom would let us have it at her beach house?” seungcheol says, an excited glimmer evident in his eyes.

he completely misses how your face falls at the mention of your mother, but you quickly mask it by nonchalantly agreeing with him. “i don’t see why not, she would probably love that…”

the rest of the drive goes by fast, the two of you bantering over silly wedding things like flowers, color palettes, and music selection (obviously), before you finally arrive home. inside, you both move lazily, drunk on love – or the leftover champagne in your systems – slowly undressing, stealing kisses, exchanging giggles and tantalizing looks… for the first time in weeks, you feel a sense of peace cover you, a quiet voice in the back of your mind assuring you that everything was going to be alright, and you embrace the feeling, falling into seungcheol as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

just as you’re about to fall into bed, your phone starts ringing from the floor of the bedroom, and at first you ignore it, too caught up in the feeling of seungcheol’s mouth against you, but the noise is insistent, and cheol detaches from you with a groan, urging you to see who’s bothering you in the middle of the night.

seungcheol can’t see the name on your screen, but when you tell him it’s your mom, he motions for you to take the call – she wouldn’t call this late unless there was an emergency, after all – but much to his surprise, you shuffle to find a shirt to put on, before you leave the room to take the call. from the bedroom, he can only hear muffled snippets of your conversation, and the tone of your voice is too ambiguous for him to guess how the talk is going.

when you come back, he doesn’t bring up the fact that you’d never gone to another room to take a call before. ever.

as soon as the clock on the wall reads 5 p.m., you bring the final interview you had scheduled for the day to an end, and as you say your goodbyes to the woman from the marketing department, wonwoo walks into the conference room, struggling to balance a stack of papers in his hands. you rush towards him, picking up part of the papers.

“woah, are these all the testimonies from your part of the staff?” you question, marveling at the size of the stack wonwoo brought in.

“yeah, crazy, isn’t it? i still can’t believe so many people came forward for this guy,” wonwoo replies, setting down his shoulder bag on the table. his shoulders seem tense, a whole day sitting at a desk clearly taking a toll on him.

“well, he’s clearly appreciated. everyone who i talked with only had good things to say about him,” you say nonchalantly, flicking through the papers, trying to pretend like you weren’t already aware of jihoon’s stellar reputation. each piece of paper seemed to be a reformulation of what the previous person mentioned, everybody mentioning similar qualities and compliments regarding him.

after you and wonwoo go over the information you both collected today, making a game plan for the next steps that needed to be taken, you both gather your things to finally go home for the day, exhaustion setting in. although the day hadn’t been particularly stressful, the possibility of bumping into seungcheol had caused you much more anxiety than usual, and you honestly couldn’t wait to get out of here and finally be able to breathe normally.

as you wait for the elevator – which seems to be taking its sweet time, moving in slow motion to the seventh floor – you hear wonwoo mumble under his breath, before he lets out an “oh, fucking hell.” ever the proper gentleman, he catches himself, and swiftly apologizes for his choice of words.

you chuckle, waving your hand to dismiss his unnecessary apology. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m missing some documents… i think i left them in the room i was in this morning, i’ll go after them. you go ahead and get going, i don’t want to hold you back any longer,” he explains, already turning around to head for the conference room.

“are you sure? i don’t mind wa–”

“i’m sure! go, you deserve to rest,” he shouts, disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

you sigh, shaking your head, but appreciating the gesture nevertheless. the elevator bell dings, and the doors open to reveal an empty cabin. you breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence. you press the button for the ground floor, and close your eyes, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, hoping to ease the sting that came from staring into a computer screen for a whole day.

your peace and quiet is short-lived however, as the elevator only manages to go down to the sixth floor before stopping again. you sigh, preparing yourself for the onslaught of tired employees who were most likely rushing to get home as well. however, when you open your eyes, there’s only one other pair staring into yours, and you feel all the air inside your lungs dissipating, leaving you breathless.

seungcheol is standing in front of you, wearing an equally speechless look on his face. the two of you stare at each other, almost as if you’re scared to move, in fear of disrupting the karmic force that brought this moment upon you even more. you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, feeling completely unprepared for this situation. you’d thought you were finally out of the woods, that you’d be able to go home in peace and not think about the case, about cheol, about anything anymore, at least for tonight.

clearly, the universe had other plans for you.

seungcheol seems to snap out of his daze when the doors of the elevator start to close again, his arm shooting out to stop them and finally stepping inside. as the doors close behind him and the elevator resumes its course downwards, you suddenly feel like the cabin is ten times smaller than it was a few moments ago, your body instinctively moving to one of the corners of the elevator. seungcheol naturally takes over the corner opposite from you, and you can feel his eyes on you with every step he takes.

you can’t fucking breathe, and you can’t believe he still has such a hold over your body.

“hi.”

you both say it at the same time, and under different circumstances, the two of you might’ve erupted in giggles at the coincidence. in this moment, however, the tension between you is so palpable, it’s almost constricting.

“how’s jihoon’s case going?” seungcheol asks, and you feel almost grateful for him taking the initiative to fill the silence.

“it’s good, yeah. we had a productive day, gathered a lot of info,” you say, clearing your throat. why were you being so goddamn awkward?

seungcheol nods, humming, silence filling the space once again. you dared to sneak a glance in his direction, noticing his furrowed brows and pursed mouth. four months could not erase everything you learned about cheol in four years, and you immediately recognized his ‘i’m trying to find the right words’ look. you sigh, knowing exactly what’s inevitably coming, so you decide to put seungcheol out of his misery.

“seungcheol,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. your eyes meet in the quiet of the elevator. “just ask me. just ask me what’s bothering you. at this point, should we even beat around the bush with each other anymore?”

seungcheol opens his mouth, then decides against it. he shakes his head, sighing, before looking back at you. “i’m not ready to let go yet,” he murmurs.

your voice trembles as you try to keep your tears at bay. “cheol… why are you doing this? i mean, why are you doing this to yourself?! things haven’t been working out between us for months, and i– i was terrible to you! you should let me go, why can’t you just… leave me alone?”

seungcheol’s eyes widen, an almost crazed glint appearing behind them. “leave– leave you alone? are you fucking kidding me?” his voice rises in volume, as he takes a few steps closer. “i can’t leave you alone, because i gave you four years of my fucking life, yeah? and in those years i learned all there is to know about you. unless everything you’ve ever told me was just an act, i’ve learned how to tell when you’re lying, and i’ve learned how to tell when you’re struggling, and you know what? you’re doing both right now!”

your hands start shaking, frustration bubbling inside your chest. “i don’t need you looking out for me, alright? i can take care of myself! and i’m fine, for your information!”

“bullshit! you’re not fine, and you know why? because for three years, everything was perfectly fine with us, and then all of a sudden last year, something happened, yeah? i don’t know what exactly, because you won’t fucking tell me, but something happened that made you squeamish around me, distant, paranoid, and– and careless! you stopped caring about me, about us!”

“i didn’t stop caring!” you croaked, your throat raw from holding back your tears. seungcheol’s eyes softened slightly at the sight of your tears finally let loose on your cheeks. “i just… i…”

seungcheol closes the last of the distance between you, standing right in front of you now. “Y/N… baby… if you’re in some sort of trouble, please… just tell me. there’s nothing you could say that could scare me or drive me away. i know you can take care of yourself, but you don’t have to! please, just… no more lies, please…”

your eyes meet his, the sincerity and love swimming in them bringing even more tears to your eyes. you could just tell him right now, let everything that’s been weighing down on you for the past year spill out all at once… but you can’t. you would never forgive yourself to come in between seungcheol and his work, his dreams… your burdens couldn’t be his burdens. you just can’t allow it.

“cheol… i ca–”

“okay, i need you to take five steps away from her, or i will physically remove you, hyung. no matter that you are older and stronger than me,” comes a voice from your right. in your fight-induced stupor, neither you nor seungcheol had realized that the elevator had reached the ground floor, the doors opening to reveal one of your favorite people on earth.

thank god for boo seungkwan.

#📁 lexie.works #🌙 midnights #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt au

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willalove75 · 7 months

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Alcina's New Maid Pt. 19 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the meeting Alcina is feeling guilty and you try and ease her pain.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Some angst, some fluff

Notes: Part 19! I know things have been HELLA angsty lately but I promise the next few chapters I have planned will be fun and fluffy and perhaps even a little bit smutty😏💕 We'll be putting all of that angst to bed for a bit!

A/N: If you picked up the mildly obscure Toy Story reference, I love you hahah I'll link the reference at the end for those who missed it!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

Alcina's tears slowed and eventually stopped flowing. When she felt your fingers in her hair still and heard your breaths even out she relaxed a little knowing you were asleep. She stayed there for a little longer, with her head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you slept. The steady beat of your heart and your gentle breaths relaxed her as the guilt ate away at her.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she finally lifted her head from your chest and your fingers slid out of her ebony curls and onto the bed next to you. Removing the gauze that was on your neck wound, she winced when she looked at it again. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, only trickles of blood still flowing from it. You definitely needed stitches. The longer Alcina looked at the wound the more her hands trembled - she would never be able to stitch you up like this. She tried her best to keep her hands steady but the harder she tried, the more they trembled and the more frustrated she became.

A knock on the door pulled her attention away from her hands and your neck.

"Mother?" Bela said as she opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Aunt Donna, Angie and Uncle Heisenberg are here for you."

Alcina grumbles and brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Alright, I'll be there in a moment."

"Do you need help with anything?"

Alcina pulls the fresh gauze away again to confirm you're still bleeding. Sighing in defeat, she turns to her daughter.

"Can you take over and continue to apply pressure to her neck?"

"Is she okay?" Bela asks, walking closer to the bed.

"Yes, she's asleep. Please try and not wake her. I am going to freshen myself up before going downstairs."

Bela sits on the edge of the bed and holds the gauze against your neck as Alcina makes her way into the bathroom. After a few minutes Alcina comes out in a new, clean dress. Her hair is fixed and her makeup is flawless. If Bela didn't see her mother so upset herself she never would have thought that she had been crying so hard. All evidence of her breakdown has been erased.

"I shall be back in a little while with Donna. She is going to need stitches and I am going to have Donna do it while she's here. If anything changes, do not hesitate to come get me."

"Yes mother."

Alcina ducks out of the door and Bela hears her footsteps getting further and further away.

Less than five minutes later Daniela appears in the bedroom next to Bela.

"How is she?" Daniela asks with worry in her eyes.

"She's okay. She's asleep so don't wake her Dani - Dani!" Bela hisses as Daniela crawls onto the bed and lays down next to you.

"Shh! And you're worried about me waking her up!" Daniela whispers which elicits an eye roll from Bela. "How's her neck?"

Bela removes the gauze and examines it before applying pressure to it again.

"It's still bleeding a little, she's definitely going to need stitches. Mom said she's going to have Donna do it before she leaves. But it's going to leave a nasty scar."

"Do you think mom will put the healing salve on it?"

"No, she only used it last time out of desperation. Mother doesn't want to expose her to the mold unless she absolutely has to."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Where's Cass? Still in the dungeon?"

"Yeah, she's been throwing things around in there all day. I think she even took a maid who had been misbehaving down there."

"Yikes."

Daniela's eyes wander over your sleeping figure, the bandages on your chest, the dried blood caked to your skin, the wound Bela was covering. She pouts and lays her head on the pillow next to you, gently moving your hair out of your face as you slept.

Alcina makes her way downstairs into one of the sitting rooms. As soon as she ducks through the door she sees her hat floating across the floor.

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

"Ugh, you're such a buzzkill, Godzilla!"

Alcina growls at Angie who runs towards Donna and climbs into her lap. She dusts off her hat and places it on one of the tables.

"How's the kid?" Karl says.

"Alive, no thanks to you." She snaps.

"What the fuck? Why the fuck is this shit my fault?!"

"You said you would protect her! Both of you said you would protect her and you did nothing!" Alcina yells.

"We were waiting for you to fucking do something you gigantic psychopath!"

"What was I supposed to do?! If I made another move Miranda would have killed her on the spot! There was nothing I could do!"

"And you don't think that crazy bird bitch wouldn't have snapped her neck with one hand if we did anything?! Plus it's not our fault you can't fucking control yourself you bloodthirsty bitch!"

Angie cackles. "Yeah! Get her!"

They meet in the middle of the room and are toe-to-toe, glaring at each other. Angie jumps off of Donna's lap and jumps around the two of them.

"How dare you!"

"This is the last time I try and do you any fucking favors!"

"Good because you couldn't even do the one thing you said you would! You unreliable greaseball!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Angie chants.

"Listen here you fucking cun-"

"Karl, Alcina, that is enough." Donna says, standing from her seat.

"Donna do not get in my way because I am as equally as angry at you right now." Alcina hisses.

"Alcina, please. Karl, sit down!" She says, pulling him the collar and throwing him into a chair.

"Hey!" He yells.

"Be quiet." Donna snaps before turning towards Alcina. "Alcina, please. What did you want us to do? There was nothing we could have done that wouldn't have put her life at further risk. Like Karl said, Miranda could have easily snapped her neck with one hand or when she had her caught up in the vines. We were powerless."

"What about the rest of the time?! When she was fighting against those vines! I did what I could but Miranda had me restrained! The both of you just stood there doing nothing!"

"Alcina, that's not true-"

"Then what the hell were you doing?!" Alcina screams, causing Donna to flinch and begin trembling.

"Will you stop fucking screaming at her?!" Heisenberg yells, getting in between the two of them. "Your temper is just as fucking short as you are gigantic. For your fucking information, we wanted to help. The minute Miranda wrapped you up we went to step in but Miranda eyeballed the two of us and had her vines pointed right at us. If we made any moves we would have been even more useless because we would have been fucking strung up on the ceiling by our ankles."

"Alcina, we wanted to help, we tried. There was nothing we could do that wouldn't have risked her life or made the situation worse."

Alcina lets out a shout of frustration before turning around and grabbing a nearby chair and throwing it into the wall, the chair shattering into splinters on impact. Her chest is heaving and her hands are balled into fists at her side. They begin to tremble as she struggles to keep her composure and not break down in front of everyone.

She was the matriarch of the castle, the one who never showed emotion - aside from anger. It was bad enough Donna had seen her in such a state multiple times over the last few months. It was worse that Karl witnessed her acting tender towards you. It would be a cold day in hell when she lets herself cry in front of them, Karl especially.

Hot tears sting her eyes as she struggles to keep herself together. It was easier thinking they just stood there and did nothing, at least then she was able to blame someone else. But after learning that they tried, and even worse, knowing that they were right in their suspicion that Miranda would have killed you if they stepped in to help, Alcina had no one else to blame for your pain but herself.

She broke her promise to keep you safe - again.

The realization hits her like a truck. Letting out a pained cry, she throws a table against the wall, it's pieces falling amongst the rubble from the chair.

Alcina squeezes her eyes shut, wiling the tears to go away. They threaten to roll down her cheeks but she grits her teeth and pushes everything she's feeling down with all of her strength.

You begin to wake up, feeling the sensation of tiny fingers running through your hair.

"She's waking up." You hear a familiar voice say.

"Hmm?" You mumble.

Turning your head towards the sound, you let out a small whimper from the pain at your neck.

"Easy, easy, don't move your head too much." The voice says.

Opening your eyes, you're met with a small pair of golden eyes with red strands of hair falling in front of them on one side.

"Daniela?"

"Yes, micuțo, I'm here." (Little one)

"Where's Alcina?" You ask, your eyes barely able to stay open.

"Karl, Donna and Angie are here, she went to talk to them." Bela says.

"Oh, okay." Your brows furrow as you feel the pressure of the gauze against your neck. "Fuck that hurts."

"I'm sure it does. When mom gets back Donna is going to stitch you up and we'll give you something for the pain, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go back to sleep micuțo, you need to rest." Daniela says, caressing your hair.

Your eyes close and you're swept away by sleep once more.

Not long after Alcina, Donna, Angie and Karl enter the room. Alcina didn't want an audience but Karl was being as stubborn as ever and Angie of course goes wherever Donna goes.

Sitting on the edge of the bed - taking over from Bela - Alcina runs her fingers through your hair.

"Draga, draga wake up." She says, her voice as comforting as a warm breeze. "Come on, iubirea mea. You have to wake up."

Your eyes flutter open and are met with Alcina's glowing golden eyes.

"There you go. Just like that, come now, you have to wake up."

"Alcina?"

"Yes love, it's me. I'm here." She says as she strokes your cheek with the back of her fingers. "Donna and Karl are here."

"I'm here too!" Angie screams.

Alcina shoots the doll a glare and turns her attention back to you.

"You need stitches, Donna is going to administer them, alright?"

"Okay."

Alcina moves to the other side of the bed after shooing Bela and Daniela out of the room. Angie and Karl stand on the outskirts of Alcina's chambers while Donna stitches up your wound. The entire time you're being stitched up, Alcina is sitting next to you on the bed, holding your hand and caressing it with her thumb. The stitches weren't exactly painful, but the wound itself was. Every so often a rogue tear would roll down your cheek and Alcina would quickly wipe it away, shushing you and comforting you.

When Donna was finished she gave her work one more once-over before nodding at Alcina.

"Try not to move your neck too much to avoid popping any stitches." Donna says. "You can remove them in a weeks time."

"Thank you, Donna." Alcina says.

"Of course. I'm glad to see you're okay, Y/N." Donna says to you.

"Thank you."

Angie climbs up onto the bed and stands on your chest, staring at your face. It's not that Angie weighs much, but it's still uncomfortable having anything standing on your chest right now.

"Will you get off of her." Alcina says, pushing Angie off of your chest.

"Hey! Watch it!" Angie argues before shooting a glare at Alcina, who returns the look. Staring at you once more Angie tilts her head at you. "You know, I was only kidding when I called you her new blood bag! But I guess I was right all along!" She says with an ear piercing cackle.

Alcina's eyes grow wide and angry at the doll and Donna quickly scoops her up and ushers her out of the door.

"Hey! Donna! What the hell?!" She manages to yell before Donna closes the door on her. "Oh come on! I was only kidding!" Angie's muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

Karl walks up to the edge of the bed and looks down at you.

"How're ya feelin, kid?"

"Never better."

Karl chuckles and pulls something out of his waistband. "Here, found this on the floor of the chapel. It's pretty fucked up to toss a brand new gift, especially something as perfectly hand-crafted as this, onto a dirty chapel floor." He says with a wink before handing you the dagger he gifted you earlier in the day.

"Huh, sorry. I figured since it came from you it was used to laying around in trash." You quip.

Karl bursts into laughter and pats your shoulder. "Yeah, she'll be fine." He says to Alcina.

Alcina's eyes are trained on the dagger in your hand as it lays on your chest. Her eyes glued to the dried blood caked into the Dimitrescu coat of arms engraving. Nearly the entire engraving was now the rusted color of dried blood - your blood. Her heart clenches as she relives watching Miranda drag her nail down your chest.

"Hello? Earth to Alcina?" Karl says, snapping her out of her trance. "There's no way you're bloodthirsty already. You already took half of her shit!" He says.

Alcina's eyes shoot up to Karl and they narrow at him dangerously. She lets out a low growl and Karl puts his hands up.

"Jesus, I'm just kidding. That stick up your ass must me a mile long."

"Is there anything else you need or are you going to continue to bother us like the pest you are and keep her from resting?" Alcina snaps.

"Alright, alright. No need to get your parachute-sized panties in a bunch. I'm leaving, I'm leaving. Catch ya later, kid." He says to you with a tip of his hat and leaves the room. Donna nods to the two of you and follows him out, closing the door behind them.

You carefully turn towards Alcina, trying to be mindful of the stitches in your neck and she has a far away look in her eyes.

"Hey," you say, placing your hand over hers. "What's wrong?"

Alcina snaps out it and looks down at you.

"Nothing, I am fine." She says before taking the dagger from your hand and getting up to put it away.

As she walks towards the vanity where the leg holster is, she runs her thumb over the bloodied coat of arms. She didn't even realize she stopped moving until she felt something grab at her thigh.

Looking down, she sees you standing next to her with your arms wrapped around her leg.

"Draga, you need to be in bed and rest!" She says, putting the dagger down and turning her attention to you.

"I know, but you're not okay. I can see it in your eyes. Talk to me, Alci. Please."

"Come, you have to get back in bed."

"Can I at least shower and put on clean clothes?"

Looking down at you and realizing that you're still covered in dried blood and dirty, bloody clothing. Alcina sighs in defeat and agrees.

After a quick shower and some fresh pajamas, you lay down on the new sheets Alcina had a maid put on the bed while you were cleaning yourself up - exchanging them for the bloodied sheets you were once laying on.

You wanted to talk to Alcina, to find out what was wrong. Well, you're pretty sure you knew what was wrong given everything that happened but the moment your head hit the pillow a current of sleep pulled you under.

The next few days were a blur. Alcina was constantly coming and going from her chambers, checking in on you nearly every hour. All of the physical trauma that happened to your body seemed to catch up with you. Not only were you absolutely exhausted, your neck was bruised and swollen from Miranda's hand and the vines. You realized quickly after you woke up the next morning you could barely speak, to which Alcina muttered to herself "I had a feeling this would happen." and promptly had a maid bring you hot tea and soft foods.

Each day that passed Alcina seemed to be withdrawing into herself more and more. A familiar fear began to creep into your chest. Last time she became withdrawn she broke your heart into a thousand pieces, you were worried she was heading down that path again. You so desperately wanted to talk to her but you physically couldn't. So you tried to communicate your feelings physically. Kissing her, holding her hand whenever she sat near you, cuddling into her as close as you possibly could at night. You were happy that she was reciprocating your advances but something in her eyes still made her seem so far away.

On the fifth night, your voice was finally on the mend. It was raspy as hell, but at least you were able to speak.

Alcina was laying next to you reading a book. Her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. You wiggled under her arm and cuddled into her, resting your head on her breast. She looked down at you and chuckled and adjusted her arm so you were comfortable. Wrapping your arm around her waist, your fingers drew abstract shapes across the silk of her nightgown. You couldn't help but look up at her and admire her beauty.

It was so rare for anyone to see her like this. With her hair down, no makeup, laying in just a nightgown with her reading glasses on. You could clearly see the laugh lines that adorned her perfect lips, even though their signature red rouge was absent. They still looked as full as ever. The crows feet in the corners of her eyes perfectly complimented her laugh lines. You could see every scar and stretchmark that adorned her neck, chest and face - no doubt most of them coming from the rapid growth she endured after getting the cadou. You wondered how many of them she carried over from her previous life and how many of them were new. She was effortlessly beautiful, yet something lurked in her eyes that made you believe that she never once looked at herself that way.

"You do know it's rude to stare, right, draga?" She says, her eyes not leaving her book.

"People stare at artwork all the time and that's considered a compliment." You rasped.

Alcina smirked and rolled her eyes before they landed on you. "Is there something I can do for you?" She asks, closing her book.

"Nuh-uh. I'm just looking at the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, draga mea." She says before leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"No I'm good, I'm fine. How are you?"

"Me? There's no need to worry about me." She pulls the covers off of her and moves to stand up but you hold onto her, keeping her in place.

"But I am worried about you."

"Don't. Let me up, I am going to put my book away."

You release her from your grip with a sigh and watch her as she returns her book to the bookshelf and places her glasses on the vanity.

"I can't help it. I haven't been able to talk to you for almost a week. We haven't even been able to talk about what happened."

"We will have plenty of time to discuss what happened. What's important now is that you rest your voice and continue healing."

"Alcina, please. You're pulling away again. You've been doing it all week. It's starting to worry me. Please just talk to me."

Alcina places her hands on her vanity and looks down.

"I don't know what it is you want me to say."

"Anything, say anything. Tell me how you're feeling, let me know what you're thinking, anything." Alcina stands there, unmoving and silent. "Alcina please, it scares me when you get like this. Please let me help." You try your best to keep your voice steady but it still shakes. Alcina closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I don't want to burden you, you have enough to deal with draga."

"It's not a burden, you are never a burden. I'm more worried about you than anything else right now. Please, just talk to me. You promised you would talk to me."

She hangs her head and digs her nails into her palms. After taking a minute to collect her thoughts she finally speaks. "I'm afraid, draga." She says and looks up at you through the mirror.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of myself, afraid of losing control again. I nearly killed you. I was completely out of control." Even from this distance you can see her eyes start to gloss over.

"But you didn't."

"But I very easily could have. That side of me, it is dangerous. It is horrific and monstrous-"

"Don't say that about yourself-"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" She shouts as she turns towards you. "That side of me is nothing compared to what you've seen. It is ugly and horrifying and no one other than Mother Miranda has seen it in it's entirety. That was the first time anyone aside from my girls have even seen my wings! Those ugly, awful-"

"Alcina, they were beautiful."

"No they are not."

"They are to me."

"Nothing about that side of me is beautiful, draga. Nothing."

"Why are you so afraid of it?"

"Because I have no control over it! You saw what happened, I heard you begging and screaming to let you go and there wasn't a single thing I was able to do! It was like my mind was trapped in a body I had no control over."

Suddenly it felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown over you. You knew Alcina wasn't in control, but you thought that a different conscious took over and hers went dormant. But she heard you begging for your life. You were right, Mother Miranda wanted her to kill you. She wanted Alcina to be imprisoned as she watched you die in her arms.

"You heard me?"

"Yes. And when I'm in that state there is nothing I can do to stop myself." She wraps her arms around herself and looks down at the ground. "That's why I was so afraid when she told me to feed from you."

"Because she knows you're not in control. She wanted you to watch what you did to me but not be able to stop it."

"Precisely."

You move over and pat the empty side of the bed, silently asking Alcina to join you again. She stands there for a moment, her arms still wrapped around herself, almost as if she's afraid to get too close to you. "Come on." You say as you wave her over. Eventually she sighs and lays back down in bed. Being mindful of your stitches, you curl into her and lay your head on her shoulder.

"But you stopped. You weren't in control but you stopped." You said.

"I don't know what you did to stop me but I can never guarantee that will happen again. You were lucky. We were lucky that monster stopped."

"Alcina, please."

"I don't know what else you want me to call it, it's a monster."

"What does it look like, your full form?"

"Like a dragon of sorts."

"Of sorts?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Okay, then call it a dragon, not a monster. For me, please?"

Alcina looks into your pleading eyes and rolls hers. "I will try."

"Thank you. Do you want to know how I got you to stop?"

"Yes."

"As you were feeding from me I remembered Cassandra saying that fear makes blood taste sweeter. I realized every time I felt fearful, the bite would get worse. So I relaxed myself in your arms and stroked your cheek. I asked you to please stop, that it was enough. Just when I thought I had failed and that I was going to die, you slowed down and stopped."

"I am so sorry, draga." She says as she wipes a few tears away and kisses the top of your head.

"But the most interesting thing happened after you stopped."

"What was that?"

"Even though your eyes were completely white, you looked afraid when you looked down at me in your arms and saw what happened. Was that the dragon, or was that you?"

Alcina leans her head back for a moment to think. She closes her eyes and her brows furrow.

"I think it was both of us. I was screaming, trying to get it to stop. Then it realized what it had done and I felt it's fear."

"Do you remember what happened afterwards?"

"When that mon-" you shoot her a look and she huffs. "when that dragon takes over my memory becomes hazy, so I don't remember everything clearly."

"You nuzzled me and whimpered."

"What?"

"Yeah, you nuzzled me and I heard you let out a whimper like a sad puppy. Then Mother Miranda took a step towards us and you growled at her. She took another step forward and you stepped backwards and then you full on snarled at her."

"Did I really?" Alcina asks with a look of surprise on her face.

"Yeah. Why? What's wrong?"

"It only ever responded to Mother Miranda. She was the only one that was ever able to control it." She says with a faraway look in her eye. Shaking her head, she looks back down at you. "Sorry, please continue."

"It's okay. After that you kneeled on the ground and covered us with your wings. Your mouth went to move towards my neck and I stopped you. I wasn't sure if you were going to try and feed again but instead you nuzzled me again and started purring, like really loudly. Louder than I've ever heard before."

A faint blush dusts Alcina's cheeks and she looks away as if she's embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She mumbles.

"What? Alcina, there's absolutely nothing to apologize for, especially for that." You say as you guide her chin back towards you. "Honestly? I liked it. It made me feel safe. Even when you do it and it's a faint purr, its comforting."

"I suppose that, thing, and I are more connected than I would care to admit. We are one in a way."

"That's why I don't want you to hate it or talk badly about it. It's part of who you are, and everything about you is beautiful and worthy of love."

Alcina's breath stalls in her chest and she looks deep into your eyes with wonder. "You are truly fascinating. You never cease to amaze me, draga mea." She whispers, as if she's talking to herself.

You sit up and bring your lips to meet hers in a gentle, passionate kiss. "I love everything about you. Everything that you are, Alcina. Always." You whisper against her lips before she kisses you again.

When your lips part you rest your head in the crook of her neck and she runs her fingers through your hair.

"Did anything else happen?" She asks.

"Well when I realized you weren't going to feed again, I let you move back towards the bite mark you started licking it and cleaning it."

"That I do faintly remember. Right before I came back, correct?"

"Yeah, you placed a kiss on it and when you pulled back the white in your eyes faded back to your usual gold."

"That's right. I do remember that. That's why Mother Miranda had that incredulous look on her face. Because the mon-"

"Alcina." You interrupt.

"Sorry, I've been calling it that for nearly 60 years, it's going to take some time to break that habit." She says defensively. "Anyway, she had that look on her face because the dragon disobeyed her, it rejected her and chose you."

"Man that must have pissed her off."

"It very likely had."

"Do you think she'll leave me alone now?"

"I hope so, draga mea. Mother Miranda is a woman of her word. She promised she would leave you alone from now on."

"She said that last time."

"Technically, she said she would respect my property."

"Is that not the same thing?"

"For Mother Miranda, no. But she swore to leave you alone so I can only hope she keeps her word."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

You stifle a yawn and Alcina chuckles and kisses you on the forehead.

"Sleep, draga." She says as she slides down under the covers and wraps her arms around you. "You need rest. And you need to rest your voice. You only just got it back and I fear that the length of our conversation will set you back in your recovery."

"It would be worth it. I missed talking to you. And we needed to talk."

"That we did, iubirea mea." She says as she nuzzles into your hair. "I missed talking to you too. Now go to sleep."

Alcina kisses the shell of your ear and you fall asleep feeling her warm breath cascading over you.

Of course, the conversation the two of you had did indeed set your recovery back because you woke up without a voice again and didn't get it back for another two days.

Finally your week of recovery has gone by and Alcina was able to remove the stitches from your neck wound. She tried to hide her grimace at the scar but you saw the look on her face. Insisting on seeing it for yourself, you couldn't help but make the same face at first. Your reaction to it, even though it was involuntary, broke Alcina's heart and you could see it all over her face. You did your best to reassure her that it wasn't that bad and that it would fade some in time, but the both of you knew that it would still leave a very noticeable scar.

Feeling the guilt radiate off of her, you led her to the bed and had her lay down with you. Curling into her as tightly as possible, the two of you laid like that for hours, trying to let the aftermath of the meeting fade from your minds. The both of you still had a lot of thoughts and feelings to work out, but as you laid in each others arms, nothing else in the world mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C25l1SkYzb0

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #wlw fanfic #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu fanfic #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 alcina #re8 village #re8 daniela #re8 bela dimitrescu #re8 karl heisenberg #re8 donna

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hoedamn-eron · 3 months

Text

baby, please - part 20

You thought it would be just another dinner with Santiago, but it doesn't end like you expected it to.

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst. Hurtful words are thrown around. Themes of abandonment. Swearing. Mentions of unsupportive family members. I actually proofread this! But there’s probably still mistakes that I missed 😂. Word count: 3,304 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 19 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 21

It was supposed to be a usual dinner with Santiago.

But you knew something was off the moment he opened the door to his apartment, inviting you in. He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. He wasn’t talking much, and when he did respond to you, you were met with one-word answers, or just a grunt. You tried not to let it get to you, but you felt like you were imposing on his time, despite the fact that he had asked you to dinner.

It was weird. But he had been acting weird for weeks. Maybe it was because you were so close to giving birth. You only had two weeks left, after all, your lives were about to change forever. He even said so himself, he wasn’t ever expecting to have a family of his own. He was happy to just be by himself, so…maybe he was just nervous. There was no need to worry about it, he’d been there the whole time for you.

But it was obvious something was bothering him (and not just tonight, it had been going on for a while), and he felt like he couldn’t tell you, which hurt. You thought you were closer than that. You were supposed to trust each other with anything, since you’re going to be co-parenting. You didn’t want your kids to think that their mom and dad couldn’t talk to each other.

There was no avoiding it, you were going to ask him what was wrong. Tonight.

You make general small talk, which is weird for the two of you. You follow him into his kitchen where he offers you a water (he’s ran out of Diet Coke), and he turns his back to you to the sauce bubbling on the stove. You quietly sip at your drink as you watch him stir. Even now, as he’s just making food, he’s tense; his shoulders stiff, jaw clenched, and he’s holding that spoon just a bit too tightly.

“Santi, is everything okay?” you ask him, already knowing that it wasn’t.

He winces at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were there. He still doesn’t look at you as he answers, “Yeah, everything is fine.”

Fine.

There’s that word again. Every time you ask him if something is going on, it’s always ‘fine’.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think it is, Santi. You’ve been weird for weeks, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” he says, finally looking at you with an uneasy look on his face.

“There is, Santi. Come on, you can tell me. We’ve talked about communication – “

“Did it ever occur to you that I might not want you to know?”

Yikes, that stung. You blink at him a little, taken aback. “I-I mean, sure, but I just want you to know that you can be open with me and talk to me.”

He studies you for a moment before he shakes his head. “I can’t talk to you about this.”

He turns back to the sauce.

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t the right time.”

You frown at him and place your glass on the counter. You fold your arms as you watch him for a few moments. The silence in the kitchen weighs heavy before you break it with, “Okay.”

You don’t accept his answer, not one bit.

After a few more awkward minutes, the pasta is ready, and Santi is preparing a plate for you. He asks you shortly if you want cheese, or if you want another drink, and you shake your head at him before following him to his dining table. You sit opposite him, eating slowly as you keep glancing at him.

He’s asking you one-word questions on the food, not meeting your eyes when he does. It makes your heart sink. The last time he acted like this was when he thought you wanted to date and he was holding you back, back when you went shopping for baby clothes together and ran into Craig.

Surely now he still doesn’t think he was holding you back. But then why would he be arguing with his friends over something like that? Why would they even care about it? Unless Santi had told them something, or they have been pressuring him in some way. Why else would he engage in such heated discussions if there wasn't some underlying concern or conflict? The questions swirl in your mind, leaving you to ponder if they are somehow connected to your relationship with Santi, and its impact on yours and your babies’ life.

After a few more moments contemplating, you place your fork down before clearing your throat. “Santi, I only want to know what’s bothering you.”

“Por el amor de Dios,” Santi mutters, rolling his eyes as he slams the fork down on the table. He gives you a hard stare. “Just drop it, okay?”

“I don’t want to drop it,” you say, giving him a concerned look and you lean towards him slightly. “I’m worried about you! You’ve been arguing with Frankie and Will, that’s not like you – “

“How would you know, you’ve only known me eight months,” he snaps at you.

You balk at his reaction, leaning back from him. “That’s a long time, Santi, I like to think I know you pretty well.”

“No, eight months is in fact not a long time,” he snapped at you. There are a few moments of silence as you stare at one another, before Santi closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders finally slumping in defeat. He buried his head in his hands, his elbows leaning on the table.

You stare at him for a moment, not sure what to say. You bite your lip and look down at your plate, all of a sudden not even remotely hungry. You look back up at him before going to stand. “I’ll get going, we can catch up again another time, when you’re feeling better.”

He doesn’t say anything to stop you as you gather your things, before you spot something at the end of the corridor. The nursery door, Santi’s old spare room, was slightly open, and you could just see a pile of unopened boxes. Your brow furrows before you glance at Santiago, and suddenly make your way down the hallway.

The calls of your name go ignored as you push open the nursery door, only to find that…it wasn’t ready. Sure, it had been painted like Santiago said it had been, and there was a feature wall of some jungle themed wallpaper, but…that was it. The room was bare. The furniture you had shopped for together was still in the boxes, collecting dust. You looked around the room, sudden tears in your eyes as you take in the fact that the room felt cold, and nowhere near as if a new family would be using it.

You turn quickly to look at Santiago, who had followed you down the hall. He had an exhausted look on his face as he awkwardly tucked his hands into his jean's pockets.

You take in a shaky breath from the tears and look back at the room. “It’s not done.” You look at him, worry sitting densely in your stomach. “It’s not done, Santi. They’re going to be here in two weeks, and you haven’t fixed up their room. Why isn’t it done?”

Santiago doesn’t answer for a moment before he sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

Your heart sinks. You try to regulate your breathing as you turn back and ask him, “Tell me what?”

He sighs before running a hand through his hair, looking at anything but you. He can’t seem to stop fidgeting. “I can’t do this.”

Oh…no.

He can’t mean what you thought, right? He just meant dinner tonight, he couldn’t do dinner. Maybe he wasn’t well and felt bad about cancelling. Yeah, that’s what he meant. It has to be.

But you know, deep down, you were wrong.

You try and play dumb. To give him the chance to take it back, to rethink what he just said, because really, he can’t be saying this to you right now. Not now. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t…do that,” he said, looking back at you with a stern look in his eyes as he shakes his head. “Don’t be an idiot, you know what I mean.”

He’s never been so harsh with you before. You give one final look around the room before squaring your shoulders and turning back to him. “So, what, you…you don’t want to be involved anymore? Is that what you’re saying?”

He hesitates for a moment before giving a single nod.

You can feel the slow anger building in your chest, your skin practically prickling with tension. How could he do this to you, now? The air becomes thick with unspoken words, each heartbeat within you resonates with the weight of the betrayal that has unfolded before you.

As Santiago’s gaze falters and you both just stare at each other with nothing to say, you find yourself grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you. The trust you once held for him now hangs precariously in the balance, and the echoes of disbelief reverberate through the room.

You had never imagined that this moment would arrive, not now, not at a time when trust and loyalty were vital. You look back on the last few months, trying to see where it had all gone wrong. Was it back when you discussed your dating life? From what you knew, he hadn’t been seeing anyone, seriously or otherwise. Did he feel trapped? Was it the almost kiss on Halloween? No, he started acting weird after Thanksgiving. So what brought him to this conclusion, that he didn’t want to be a father anymore, that you had spent all this time together planning, and working on yourselves and together to become parents? Was it the scare that you’d had?

You loved this man. Loved him. Oh, God, you can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces.

“This just…came at an inconvenient time – “ he starts again, the prolonged silence evidently becoming too much.

Your jaw sets and you glare at him, the bubbling in your chest erupting. “Oh, I'm so sorry, when would this,” you gesture to your bump. “Have been more convenient for you?”

He closes his eyes for a moment in exasperation. “Don’t be like that – “

“Be like what?” you ask, your gaze still hard on him. “Don’t be upset? Don’t be angry? You’ve just told me you don’t want to be a father to our kids anymore! How am I not supposed to be upset?”

“I know it…it’s bad, honey, I know – “

“Don’t ‘honey’ me, you…you…” you gasp as you realise you’re crying. You reach up and touch your cheek, almost as if you’re shocked that you’re crying.

You’d never truly cried over a man before.

But it wasn’t just a man. It was your kids. Your babies, who would be here in two weeks, ones who you had planned a whole life for; to raise them in households full of love and warmth, where you thought their father would be a part of their lives. Where they would have three amazing uncles, who had welcomed you with open arms, who had helped you with your house.

Your heart stutters as you realise; they must have known. They must have known how Santiago was feeling when they organised your baby shower, when they were actually at your baby shower, when you were at Santiago’s place for Christmas…God, you bet they had a good laugh, knowing that you were being strung along. They knew he was planning on leaving you.

“When did…when did you plan to do this? When did you plan to leave me?” you ask him, wiping at your eyes harshly.

He swallows thickly before shaking his head. “I didn’t plan anything. It…look, it’s not important - “

“Yes, it is, Santiago,” you snap, pointing to your chest. “It’s important to me, to my kids!”

He watches you again, and you grit your teeth, trying not to look away from him. He looks you up and down before he matches your heated and tense energy, his arms crossing over his chest.

You scoff at him. “Really? You’re choosing to be quiet now?”

“I’m not cut out for this,” he says. “I’m not used to staying in one place for so long, and you’re a good ten years younger than me, you should be with someone your own age. This just wasn’t how I planned my life going, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you think I planned my life to go this way?” you ask him, starting to pace the small width of the hallway. “To get pregnant from a stranger after a one-night stand? I gave you every opportunity to leave when we found out about this – “

“Yeah, well, I should have left when you told me I could.”

You stop your pacing to look at him in disbelief. “Really?”

“You – and them – would be better off without me.”

“Oh don’t you spout that martyr bullshit on me,” you snap, finally stopping your pacing. You know you sound like a petulant teenager. But you’re angry. You’re fuming. “Is this because of Halloween? When we almost kissed?”

You see how he tenses. Neither of you had mentioned that night since it happened, having silently decided that it was the alcohol, that it wasn’t anything more to it than that.

He shakes his head. “It has nothing to do with Halloween.”

“Then it was Thanksgiving,” you say. “I took you away from your family, who you hadn’t seen in a while – “

“It has…” he starts, but he stops himself, running his hands down his face in frustration. “There is nothing specific that has happened, I’ve just had more time to think about it. And I don’t want it. I don’t want to be a dad.”

You’re crying again. “So all these months were just a lie? You were leading me on?”

“That is not what I was doing!” Santiago says defensively. “Don’t twist my words around!”

“I am two weeks away from having a C-section,” you cry. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!”

“I – “

“I should have fucking listened to you on our date. I should have seen this coming, really,” you say, giving a small, humourless laugh as you shake your head at yourself. “That you weren’t looking for anything serious, and there’s nothing more serious than two kids! And how you wouldn’t get rid of the truck – “

Santiago gives a loud, annoyed groan. “Again with the truck. Why does it always come back to the fucking truck? You’ve upturned my life enough, can I not keep something for myself?”

Something seems to snap in him then.

“You throw this huge bombshell on me, that not only are you pregnant, but it’s twins,” he says. “I had just come back to Florida after the worst year of my life, ready to have some normalcy, and I’m suddenly going to be a dad, with a woman who I barely know! And everyone seems to think I should be okay with it, to accept that this is my life now! And now my spare room is full of baby shit, my friends won’t stop talking about how much my life is going to change, and everyone keeps bombarding me about my truck. It’s my fucking truck, and it’s the only thing that I own that doesn’t even remotely have anything to do with a fucking baby!”

He stops, a little breathless. You stay silent after his outburst, and you look at each other silently before you both physically deflate. This is it. It’s over.

“So what?” you ask him. “It’s too much responsibility for you, and you’re starting to feel trapped? You don’t have your life anymore?”

He hesitates before nodding. “Yeah.”

You wipe at your eyes furiously. Jesus, why can’t you stop crying? This is embarrassing enough.

You nod at him with finality. “Okay then. Fine. I’ll just go.”

You wipe your eyes once again before walking past him, giving him a wide berth, because if you even so much as brush against him, to feel his touch, you’re going to break all over again. You make it to the front door before pausing. Is this really how this ends? With bitter words and your heart broken? You can’t believe this man, who you adored, loved with all your being, was doing this to you.

Your parents and sisters were right. He did decide to leave once he realised he didn’t want them. And you didn’t want them to be right, you wanted to be able to prove your family wrong, just like you had proved everyone else wrong whenever they made a judgement about you. How stupid and naïve you were.

No, you’re not stupid. Or naïve. You’re hopeful, and you had a great support system without Santiago, or your family.

Fuck your family and fuck him.

“You know what?” you ask, suddenly spinning around to look at Santiago. He looks at you, the exhausted look back on his face. “I don’t need you. They don’t need you. They don’t need to know that their dad didn’t want them. Do you know why? Because they have me. They will never know the feeling of being unwanted or abandoned. I will shower them with the love they deserve, and they will be surrounded by happiness.”

You didn’t stick around long enough for him to give a response. You slammed the door loudly on your way out, suddenly glad that you had driven here (although he hadn’t offered you a ride, which he usually did, but now you realise why he didn’t). All the things from the past few months were suddenly falling into place; he hadn’t called you corazón in forever, evidently realising the nickname didn’t have as much as a meaning to it as he thought. He hadn’t even taken much part in the baby shower your friends had thrown together for you. And of course, the stupid truck; you should have seen the signs long ago.

You reach your car and climb in. Taking a moment to yourself, the confined space offering a temporary sanctuary from the outside world, you finally let the fresh wave of tears stream down your face, leaving salty trails on your cheeks. Your shoulders heave with each ragged breath as you don’t bother holding back the sobs that had been pushing to escape.

Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly. The air inside the car feels heavy, saturated with the weight of your emotions. The warmth of the seat contrasts sharply with the chill that has settled in your chest. Time seems to lose its meaning as you sit there, caught in the grip of your emotions.

In this cocoon of seclusion, you fight with the complex feelings of a mix of sorrow and frustration, and you mourn the end of your relationship with Santiago.

After a few moments, you give one final sob, before taking yet another shaky deep breath. You wipe at your eyes again ferociously, before giving yourself a look in your mirror. You’re a mess. You don’t even recognise yourself in the mirror.

You flinch as a neighbour comes out one of the neighbouring apartments, a reminder of a world that continues to move forward while you're stuck in this bubble of despair. They don’t seem to notice you having a complete meltdown in your car. You best get going, you’ll look like a mad woman…and Santiago might be watching.

You start your car, and with one final look at Santiago’s apartment, you leave. For good.

• Por el amor de Dios - For the love of God

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader #santiago garcia x f!reader

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hookhausenschips · 4 months

Text

Eternally Yours (Songfic Mini Series)

Word Count: 3,096

Summary: Hook and Y/N are devotedly in love, so much so that they are willing to sacrifice anything for the other person and ultimately be together “eternally” or will they?

Warnings: Angst lotttssss of angst, some toxic behaviors, Tyler is a neglectful partner, reader is in love (yikes sis)

Masterlist

Hook Taglist: @shawtys-things, @gethooked, @hope4more, @redpool, @lovethathookhausen730, @dgcrimson-garcia

Join my taglist here!

song: Eternally Yours by Motionless In White

A/N: this is my interpretation of the song! But I hope you all enjoy this, stay tuned for the next two parts of this mini series and keep your tissues on deck because they will hurtttt

Y/N’s POV

Blow the bridge to the past

Wipe the fingerprints

Melt your heart encased in wax

Steal it with a kiss

I had first met Tyler when he was a member of Team Taz back in 2021. Back before he was known as ‘The Cold Hearted Handsome Devil’, he was someone who was happy around his friends, especially his little group. I was just debuting in the women’s division slowly making a name for myself. I found myself being enamored by him. They say love can make you do stupid things, but he made every waking moment worth it. He showed me how to be myself again.

“Tyler you have to get going for your match or else your dad will kill us both.” I spoke as I pulled away from him. He smirked looking at my lips, “Just one more for good luck.” I rolled my eyes and gave him a brief kiss before pushing him towards the Guerilla, “Go become a champion baby.” I said with a lovesick grin on my face. He winked and left through the tunnels towards his destiny.

Our fate engraved

Scar enslaved

As we mutually destruct

Repose, my love, I've sinned enough

A year had flown by and we were going strong. The entire roster could see how in love we were, even the fans even though we hadn’t confirmed it to them. They all knew though. I knew in my heart he was who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I have never felt so seen, heard, understood, or loved the way that Tyler did. He was undefeated as FTW champion and I was working my way to my own championship. We tried our best to see each other as much as we could, and those moments I hold dear.

“Come on please just one ride?” Tyler begged as I shook my head furiously looking at the humongous roller coaster. The anxiety made my stomach cramp up and my throat close at the thought of the tall drops the ride had. “You jump off of a metal square and do all those flips with no thought about it but a roller coaster is where you draw the line?” He questioned as he wrapped his arms around me. I nodded, “That is different. I have control over those, that thing I don’t. Do you know how many people die on roller coasters?” I exclaimed pointing at the pile of metal. I could feel his body shake as he laughed, “Yeah no more watching Final Destination. Tesoro, I promise you will be fine. I will be right beside you.” He tried to reassure me but I shook my head once again. “Go ride it with the lads, I’ll be right here.” I replied. “What kind of boyfriend would I be to ditch my incredibly beautiful girlfriend at Six Flags? I’m staying with you.” He said.

I giggled knowing he was being overprotective, “You do realize they shut the park down for the roster, no one is going to bother me. Go ride that ride, you can join me on CraZanity.” I said giving him a kiss and pushing him towards our friends.

Falling for him was so easy.

For the both of us

In the name of love

I'm ready to bury all of my bones

I'm ready to lie but say I won't

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To rot in this garden made of stones

Eternally yours

“Why can’t you understand that I want to be with you!” I exclaimed as I felt tears burn my eyes. He just stood there emotionless. “I don’t care what anyone says or does because they’re not you! For two years I have done nothing but stand by your side, through every win and loss. I have been there.” I then gestured to our championships both laying limply on the couch, “Those mean nothing to me. You are the one true prize for me Tyler. Nothing else in this world means anything if I don’t have you.” I sobbed. Closing my eyes I tried to gather my thoughts when I felt his arms embrace me. My body shook as my tears stained his hoodie. He began to slowly sway back and forth. ‘What a stupid fight’ I thought to myself, all over a stupid romantic storyline Tony Khan thought would be a great push for my career as champion. I pulled back and looked into the earthy brown irises that I called home, “I would sacrifice that title and my career if it meant that you were happy. I can call Tony right now and tell him I’m done.” I whispered. He shook his head and pulled my head back to his chest. We were going to be okay, we had to be.

I feed like you taught me and selflessly swallow

We coalesce in darkness, so selfishly hollow

Examine the wreckage

Writhing in tempo

Invisible anguish, casting a shadow

I was currently laying outside of the ring trying to catch my breath after being slammed into the barricade by Julia. Tyler was in the ring with Brody from what I could tell the two were exchanging blows after being tagged in. Julia had run back to her side of the ring cheering on Brody. I slowly began to rise to my feet, my heart stopped beating in my chest at what I had seen. Brody had Tyler in a chokehold holding over the other side of the ring. My thoughts of professionalism went out the door then and there. While the ref was distracted I rushed to one of the security guards and told him to move. I then rolled into the ring with the metal chair and hit Brody with the chair causing him to drop Tyler. The ref called for a disqualification but I could care less. This match wasn’t for any championships, all I could think about was Tyler passing out and the thought terrified me.

“I had it handled! You should’ve never even grabbed the chair.” Tyler seethed. I just looked at him as he continued on his tangent. Yes he had a right to be angry at me but all I could think about was his well being. I rolled my eyes, “yeah and what just watch you be choked out and then possibly dropped so you can be injured?” He whipped around at my statement, “It wasn’t your call! That was ignorance and selfishness. Brody has been doing this a lot longer than both of us. I trust him.” He retorted. I laughed sarcastically. “Well excuse me for caring about MY boyfriend.” I said before leaving the locker room with my things. This feels like the millionth fight we have had recently, practically over nothing. It was causing a strain on our relationship and I could tell it was hurting us both, but we were both too stubborn to apologize.

And in the name of love

I'm ready to bury all of my bones

I'm ready to lie but say I won't

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To rot in this garden made of stones

Eternally yours

As we rest in pieces, though I know not your name

I would suffer forever to absolve all your pain

I lay in another hotel room bed alone. The fight with Tyler still replaying through my head as I scroll through my photos trying to think of happier times. I stopped at a picture of the two of us at one of his family cookouts, it was the first time I had met them. I smile at the memory. I laughed at a story one of Tyler’s cousins, Elena told me about him when they were younger. “No yeah his dad was so pissed but I mean he didn’t end up wrecking surprisingly. He wasn’t allowed to drive for the rest of the school year. So don’t ever bet him in anything because he will try to prove you wrong.” She said as I shook my head taking a sip of my drink when his aunt, Elena’s mom, butted in. “So have you guys said it yet?” She asked. My face flushed as the group of girls giggled. I shook my head, “No not yet.” I whispered. She nodded and placed her hand on my arm, “No need to worry pesca or have any doubt about it. The eyes never lie and I have never seen my nipote look at anyone the way he looks at you. His eyes shine! I can tell you feel the same as well.” She spoke (peach, nephew). I nodded and looked to where Tyler stood with his dad and uncles at the grill talking, “I do love him. A lot actually.” The cousins squealed, causing the guys to look up at us. My eyes locked with Tyler and he winked at me, my face flushed again and he smirked at my reaction.

We then were in his parent’s kitchen doing the dishes, me washing and him drying as Taz and Theresa were relaxing in the den, setting up some board games. “Did you have fun today?” Tyler asked as I handed him a glass. I nodded and smiled softly, “Your cousins told me what you were like growing up. A very mischievous and bad kid you were if those stories are true.” I teased as I turned to look at him. He groaned but I could tell he wasn’t upset or bothered by the smile on his face. “What ones did they tell you?” He asked before putting the glass away and then placing his hands on my hips, his thumbs massaging the little peak of skin showing from my shirt rising. I shook my head, “I can’t tell you that. My lips are sealed.” I said mimicking locking a lock on my lips and throwing away the key. He quirked his eyebrow, “I think I can find some ways to get them unsealed baby.” he whispered. I smacked his chest, “Your parents are in the other room, keep it in your pants Senerchia.” He grinned, “I wasn’t even thinking that but if you’re offering..” He trailed off. I giggled, leaned up and pecked his lips, “Beat me in these games and I’ll think about it baby.”

I sighed at the memory, what a happier time. A less complicated time in our love story. God stop getting emotional y/n, if he wanted to be here he would be.

I'm ready to bleed to make amends

And sleep in this dirt we call our bed

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To fall and rewrite the bitter end

Eternally yours

It’s now week three of us not speaking. I have been told from multiple friends how miserable the two of us are without the other. Clearly the fights we’ve had the past few months say differently. This time I didn’t let him in my hotel room because he never showed up. There was no make up angry sex to “fix” us. I was snapped out of my thoughts as Kris, Willow, and Skye kept repeating my name. “Yeah I’m here.” I whispered as we sat in one of the unused locker rooms talking. “We’re going to catering, we’ll be right back okay?” Kris asked. I nodded as the group left. My thoughts began to consume me again as I laid on one of the many couches. A few minutes later the door reopened and I assumed it was the girls so I continued laying down letting my thoughts eat away at me. But then I heard the door handle rattle. I froze hearing a familiar deep voice, “This shit isn’t funny. Open the door now.” I then heard several voices, “Not until you guys make up. We’re tired of the gloomy cloud hanging around you two. Make up; fight it out, or fuck it out!” I sighed and closed my eyes trying to ignore him and the heavy beating of my heart. It felt like hours continued to pass by fast before I opened my eyes. I looked over and he was sat by the door across the room glaring at his phone.

He had dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look like himself, the actual Tyler. I cleared my throat trying to ease the tense and somewhat awkward atmosphere. “How’ve you been?” I whispered. I received silence as an answer. I rolled my eyes, “Oh yeah I’ve been great too thanks for asking. Nope lost my championship a couple weeks back, but I’ll bounce back to get it. I won’t stay down forever.” I spoke sarcastically. Still silence greeted me. I could feel my patience begin to thin. “Fine you don’t have to talk but I will ask you one question.” I said and he continued typing away on his phone. “Are we broken up? Because if we are, it would've been nice to know instead of tearing apart my heart for someone who doesn’t want it anymore.” I questioned. He stopped typing, almost dropping his phone. He finally looked at me, his eyes dark as they looked me over. I picked at my nails nervously waiting for an answer. “You don’t think I love you anymore?” He countered. I laughed, “Funny way you have of showing it Tyler. Ignore me for three weeks, my texts or any time I try to talk you walk away. You wouldn’t even look at me. That isn’t love. So no, I don’t think you love me anymore. Not as much as you used to or maybe even not at all. So get on with it so I can deal with this heartbreak and heal finally.” I spoke. He set his phone down still watching me. “I do still love you.” He whispered. “You don’t have to lie to me, you’re only hurting us both by doing that.” I argued. He shook his head, “I know there isn’t any amount of things I can say to make you forgive me ever but I will always love you. Nothing or anyone will change that.” He said as he stood and walked towards the couch sitting in front of it.

“I know I haven’t been the most perfect boyfriend or loving lately. I could give a million excuses but none of them can go back and fix this. Seeing you with Isiah and Daniel hanging out together you looked so happy, it made me think what if you left me for either of them or someone else. Those thoughts destroyed me. I should’ve been a man about my insecurities and told you about them but instead I took the anger from those thoughts out on you. If I could give you the universe to make you happy I would do it. The love I have for you runs deeper than the ocean. I don’t picture anyone else being the mother of my kids or anyone I want to grow old and happy with but you. God y/n I’m terrified. I’m terrified of the way you make me feel after all these years.” Tyler rambled pouring out his heart and every thought in that moment. “I would rob a bank or go to prison for killing someone if they made you cry. I would do anything for you. The world means nothing to me without you in it. Please tell me what I can do to help fix this.” He begged as tears trailed down his face. I hadn’t realized I was crying too until he reached up cupping my cheek and wiping some away. I sniffled, “Love isn’t easy Tyler. If it was there would be a guidebook to it. You’re the only one who has my heart and the only one who ever will. In this lifetime and all the others, you are the one I want.” I whispered, placing my hand on his cheek as he leaned into it. “We can work through this, we’ve worked through worse.” I said before kissing him.

I'm more than willing to rot in hell with you

I'm ready to bury all of my bones

I'm ready to lie but say I won't

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To rot in this garden made of stones

I'm ready to bleed to make amends

And sleep in this dirt we call our bed

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To fall and rewrite the bitter end

Eternally yours

I was standing with Tyler taking pictures at a small event AEW was hosting. When suddenly the lights went down and a video started playing (A/N: based off this tiktok I seen last year and fell in love with). I turned towards the screen and leaned against Tyler as it played. I smiled watching the video until it showed a picture of Tyler on one knee. I gasped and turned to look as he was on one knee holding a black velvet box with a gorgeous ring as tears flooded down my face surrounded by friends and family. “Y/n, we’ve been through many things these past two years. Through everything we always find a way back to each other. You’re the one person I look for in the crowd during every show. The one person who understands the hardships of what we do. You’ve challenged me in many ways and you’ve helped me become a better version of myself everyday. I know we’re not perfect and neither is our love but I know there is no one else in this world I would rather share this life and love with. I would go through every storm for you, burn down every empire to make you happy. You make the world brighter around you no matter where you go. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, share this life with you and hear all the random little facts you read about or the dumb little dad jokes you know.” He spoke before grabbing my hand, “So Y/n will you marry me?” He asked, smiling at me with tears welling up in his eyes. I nodded and whispered, “Yes. Oh my god yes!” Everyone cheered as Tyler placed the ring on my finger and we kissed. Yeah our love wasn’t perfect or the most beautiful thing to grace the planet, but it was ours and that was all that matters. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Senerchia.

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earthtoharlow · 1 year

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SERIES MASTERLIST

JACKHARLOW

liked by cozane, tmz, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, yungskylark and 841,425 others

jackharlow: Two weeks ago today, paternity test results revealed that I fathered a child with Stacey James. I take full responsibility for my actions and now that paternity has been established I look forward in raising our daughter amicably.

I want to sincerely apologize to all my friends and family that I’ve hurt and disappointed these past few months both publicly and privately. Most importantly, I want to apologize to YOURINSTA. You didn’t deserve the heartbreak and humiliation this has caused you. I will do everything in my power to get back in your good graces even if it’s only a friendship. I will forever love you.

View all 10,578 comments

user: YIKES!!!

user: you’re a fucking idiot

user: I don’t like y/n but she’s an idiot if she takes him back after this

neelamthadhani: proud of you for being so mature about this 🫶

user: mature how????

user: he’s mature because he finally stopped lying about that baby being his? Okay sis

user: is his whole team stupid?

urbanwyatt: you must have worms for brains, why didn’t you turn the comments off

saweetie: honestly I think you should go to hell

user: hope he starts dating Stacey tbh 🫣

thatgirlstacey: excited to co parent with you

YOURINSTA

liked by saweetie, lilnasx, normani, SZA, druski, urbanwyatt and 789,046 others

yourinsta: Smoking on my ex pack

view all 7457 comments

Saweetie : I KNOW THATS RIIIIGHT!

user: glad you aren’t letting the news bring you down

normani: GNO soon!

user: your post been kinda bitter lately

user: well her boyfriend of two years cheated and had a baby on her

user: we honestly should be glad she hasn’t killed Jack yet

SZA: KILL BILL

yourinsta: not the best ideaaaaa 🔪

urbanwyatt: check your dms please

saweetie: leave her the hell alone, and tell that mop headed friend of yours as well

THATGIRLSTACEY

liked by jackharlow, 1dessdior, theshaderoom, nemoachida and 678,456 others

thatgirlstacey: mom & dad 👨‍👩‍👧

view all 8,456 comments

user: he ain’t really want that baby fr

user: low down and nasty

user: I promise no one cares

user: Jack is really a dilf

urbanwyatt: 🤦🏼‍♂️

user: anyone else think she’s doing this for attention? Or to make y/n jealous?

SZA: LOL

saweetie: can’t stand a weird lame bitch

THESHADEROOM

Liked by 756,056 users

theshaderoom: Well, looks like Stacey and the judge are gonna make Jack Harlow’s pockets hurt! Jack Harlow will pay Stacey James nearly 10,000 per month in child support for their 3 month old daughter, Willow. The judge stating that Stacey doesn’t make enough to support Willow by herself.

view all 6789 comments

user: these men will never learn

user: DAMN

user: I mean it could’ve been worse 😵‍💫

user: is no one gonna point out the fact that the judge called her a broke bitch

YOURINSTA

liked by saweetie, SZA, dojacat,djdrama, thehomies and 967,367 others

yourinsta: Her baby daddy got some money, but I think I'm richer

view all 8,478 comments

user: HAHAHAHAHA

user: whole lotta money 💰

user: I love a petty queen

SZA: rich flex

user: Jack’s grandpa would have a heart attack seeing that

user: girl give that money back to whoever it belongs too 🙄

saweetie: humble brag 🤑

user: be my sugar momma

notjackharlow: seriously?

urbanwyatt: just shut the fuck up Jack

saweetie: y/n do you need me to kick his ass?

yourinsta: go be a father

NEXT PART

#jack harlow #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow reader #social media au #jack harlow instagram au #jack harlow social media au

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cowpokeomens · 5 months

Text

Blood Pact

It's me, your favorite monster fucker! Here's another part of my Nocturnal Creatures series, in which you strike a deal with a demon- who goes by Nicholas. Sexy things ensue.

Warnings: Disgusting nasty filthy p-in-v, cunnilingus, lots of mentions of virginity (it's a social construct, but if you got it, flaunt it), Nicholas Ruffilo's monster cock (canon), if you feel I need to add anything PLEASE send me a message! Otherwise, enjoy!

________________________________________________________

You still couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Yet, here you stood, at a crossroads in your hometown. Not just the metaphorical kind, either- an actual, physical crossroads. Mason Avenue and Fisher Street, to be exact.

Right next to the city cemetery, from which you stole a jar’s worth of dirt.

It sat in your bag, next to some kind of flowering plant you hoped would work, a cat bone (thank goodness for veterinarian friends?), and a picture of yourself, one of the headshots your manager had insisted would help you blow up on TikTok.

It hadn’t.

You threw everything into a cardboard box, using your shiny, new shovel from the local feed supply store to dig a hole in the center of the dusty dirty roads. The ground was harder than you expected, so your two-foot deep hole had you sweating by the time it was formed. You all but threw the box into the hole, quickly covering it up with loose dirt, and taking a few steps back. Pulling out your phone, you consulted the symbol you saved from a website earlier that week, spray paint in hand. All the stupid Wal-Mart had left was “Cerise Fluorescent,” so you hoped whatever you summoned liked pink.

Carefully, you sprayed the lines onto the dirt, over where you buried your box. You tried to move quickly, but precisely; Getting caught was almost as terrifying as doing it wrong.

Finally, it was done. You scrolled over on your phone, to the Latin text you hadn’t even dared to read in your head. Stepping away from the circle, you read it aloud now. You could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and you wondered one last time if this was worth it.

“Your Latin sucks.” A voice said suddenly.

You jumped, yelping, and fell directly on your ass.

You were scrambling back when the voice spoke again.

“Is this a Goetia sigil? In pink? The guys are going to get a kick out of this-”

You stood up shakily, dusting off your pants in the process. You finally saw the source of the voice: Standing in the center of your sigil was the most devastatingly handsome man you had ever seen.

Long, dark hair; his skin was lightly tanned and healthy-looking. Eyes the color of clouds, that seemed to shift from green to blue to grey before you. He was taller than you, tattoos visible on both hands, and dressed simply: A hoodie, dark jeans, and…

Were those Converse?

You were immediately overcome with confusion. “Um, who are you?”

He fixed those eyes directly on you. “I think that’s my line, doll.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “You’re Amdusias?”

He winced. “Yikes, with the Scary-Latin-Demon-Name. You can call me Nicholas.”

You frowned. “You don’t seem like…”

“Like a great duke of Hell?” He finished your thought. “Yeah, only angels really like to make a dramatic entrance, that’s why they’ve been banned to stay behind the pearly bars. Too many eyes, too much fire-”

“You’re wearing sneakers?” You said without thought.

He looked offended. “Did you expect me to crawl out of Hell in loafers?”

You scrambled for an answer. “Well, no, but I-”

“TV is rotting your mind. What do you want?” He cut you off.

You felt the color leaving your face. “Well, um, I read that you were responsible for the music in Hell-”

“‘Music’ is a big word, but sure.” He interrupted.

Giving him a look, you continued. “Well, I’m a musician, too! Only…” You trailed off with a frown.

He mocked you with a faux-wince. “Ooh, not triple platinum yet, huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hide your disappointment. Shaking your head, your gaze met his again. “That’s where you come in.”

An eyebrow cocked at you. “Think that because you snagged a demon, you get to be famous?”

You shook your head hastily. “No, not at all! I did a lot of research-” You Googled for 30 minutes- “So I don’t get to demand things without a trade, right?”

He smiled at you lazily. “Yep. So what will it be, your soul? First born? I love a first born, with a little bit of butter, some rosemary and-”

“I’m a virgin.” You blurted.

He froze, then his entire demeanor changed. For the first time that night, you felt genuine fear as the air around you went still. “Oh yeah?”

Your mouth gaped like a fish, so you settled on a nod.

He took a tiny step towards you. You were rooted on the spot, frozen like a deer in headlights. This was a bad idea.

Finally, you found your words. “My virginity. For- whatever it is you do. Fame, fortune, I don’t really care, I just want people to hear my music, connect with it-”

“Yeah, yeah, real noble of you.” He snorted, then composed himself. For a second, he almost looked concerned. “You sure about this, doll?”

You nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah. But- make it organic, y’know, the fame part. I don’t want to look like an industry plant-”

He rolled his eyes, walking closer so that he was directly in front of you. You gaped at his proximity. “You can leave the circle?”

Laughing, he nodded. “I could have left at any point, but you’re pretty-” He leaned in so that he was whispering in your ear, “-For a pathetic little human.”

Your cheeks went hot. You knew it was just to rile you up, make this worse than it already was. At least, you figured, your virginity meant something to someone- it certainly held no value for you. A demon was less than desirable, but he was nice to look at-��

Woah. Not going there, you told yourself sternly.

Shaking off the feeling, you held out your hand. “Okay, so deal-”

“Uh, no.” He cut you off, again. “I have my own terms and conditions.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

A smirk grew on his face. “My terms. For our arrangement.”

You tried not to let anger well up inside you. “And what would those terms be?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“You come to me.” He said plainly. Confusion must have been evident on your face, because he continued, “I’m not some monster in the night who’s going to show up for your virginity. When the time is right, you’ll come to me.”

“You’re not going to just… Take it?” The question slowly left your mouth.

He grimaced, an ugly look for such a pretty face. “Ew, no. I’m a demon, not a wild animal. Besides,” he cocked his head to the side, looking directly into you. “Virginity tastes better when it comes willingly.”

Gulping despite yourself, you managed a nod. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come willingly.” As if.

Holding out an inked hand, he grinned at you. “Then it’s a deal.”

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand in yours, shaking once. “Deal.”

_________________________________________________________

Six Months Later

You awoke in a cold sweat, the third time that week. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you walked over to the mini-fridge of your hotel room, grabbing a bottle of water. You were uncomfortably wet- again, and not from sweating. It seemed like every time you tried to rest, you were met by stormy eyes where sleep should have greeted you. You chugged the water, making your way to the restroom for a much-needed shower.

That night’s show had been sold out- the 13th sold out show of your highly anticipated debut tour. Nicholas had held up his end of the bargain; Your album was projected to sell close to a million units by the end of the year. And you had seen neither hide nor hair of him.

Well. Not in the flesh, anyways.

As you started the shower, your mind wandered. You knew it was him, sending you these dreams through his weird demon dream channels or whatever. Even as your body betrayed you, you knew it was not your own thoughts causing such a commotion.

Still, as you slipped in the shower to wash off the day’s grime, you felt your hand slip lower, between your folds to collect the wetness there. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you circled your bundle of nerves, moaning quietly. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts drifted back to long, dark hair and tattooed hands on your body. Your hand moved quicker, moans growing louder as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. You were on the precipice when a familiar voice made you freeze.

“I knew you’d be loud.”

Yelping, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, almost falling in your panic. Yanking your towel off the rack, you wrapped yourself as quickly as possible as you threw open the shower curtain.

Nicholas was sitting criss-cross on the expansive bathroom counter, picking at something under his nails.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped.

“You summoned me, duh.” He said, rolling his eyes at you.

“Yeah, six months ago. I thought I was supposed to come to you.”

He looked at you then, eyes dragging over your poorly-concealed form. His eyes glinted, looking hungry. “Moaning the name of a demon you promised your virginity to while you rub one out in the shower is a summoning if I’ve ever seen one. Besides,” He looked into your eyes, smirking devilishly. “You were about to come to me, from the sound of it.”

Your face was on fire with embarrassment. “I was not moaning your name.”

He cocked a brow at you. “Uh, you were. Loudly.”

Rage bubbled up inside you. “I was not!” The words spilled from you now. “I wouldn’t have even been doing that if you hadn’t been sending me all of your weird demonic sex dreams constantly!”

An unnamed emotion flashed across his face, then he grinned. “‘Weird demonic sex dreams,’ huh?”

You huffed at him “Oh, don’t even play coy. Like being dragged back to Hell and tied up by some hot shot demon was my big idea.”

The smile he was giving you was sinister. “Right, right. What else have I sent your way?”

You faltered, unsure of what he was playing at. “Like you don’t know.”

He shrugged. “I don’t. I haven’t ‘sent you’ shit.” He mimed quotations with his hands.

Your blood went cold. Suddenly, the bathroom was too small. “You’re lying.” Your voice sounded feeble, even to you.

He shook his head, standing up. Slowly he stepped towards you. “I’m not.”

“But then- that would mean-” Stammering, you stood there helplessly as he crept closer.

Nodding, he leaned in even closer. “That was all you, doll.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off your shoulder. “What a dirty mind the little human virgin has. You mentioned being tied up- what else did I do to defile you, huh?”

He was too close, it almost made you dizzy. He smelled like smoke and rain and earth all at once. “Shut up.” You mumbled weakly.

He stepped back, finally. “Well, you know how to find me.”

There was a crack like lightning, then he was gone.

You stood there for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. This was fine, you reasoned. He left. He kept his word. Everything was fine.

______________________________________________________

Three Months Later

Once again, you couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in your master bedroom, you gazed out the windows overlooking the city below. You remembered when you first bought the condo- loved how open and light it was. In the deepness of the night surrounding you, the lights looked like tiny fires dancing in the dark.

Taking a deep breath, you laid down on your pillows, trying to relax your body. Running a hand over the t-shirt on your abdomen, up to your breasts, you felt your breathing start to slow. Your nipples were quick to perk up at the stimulation, so you pinched one experimentally, almost moaning out at the sensation.

Your nerves were on fire these days. The slightest brush against your skin made you feverish. You tried everything, from quitting cold turkey to bringing yourself to climax three or four times a day. Nothing was working.

So maybe this would.

You snaked your hand lower, falling into familiar routine. You had come to know your body well the last three months, knew exactly where to rub, where to pinch. As you toyed with your folds through your underwear, you imagined a different set of hands, larger and covered in ink. Unlike the other times, you allowed your fantasy to overtake you, gave yourself to it willingly.

“Nicholas.” You breathed, back arching ever so slightly.

There was a slight breeze, then a quiet gasp.

“Quite the show you’re putting on, doll. I suppose you didn’t say my name this time, either?”

You pulled your hand away from your core, scrambling to stand up. “No, I- I did.”

Nicholas’ face looked shocked for a millisecond, then an eyebrow was raised at you. “Oh?”

“I’m… I’m ready.” It didn’t sound convincing.

He scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. Like I said, I’m not interested in forcing anyone-”

“Goddamnit, shut up.” You snapped. “I said I’m ready, okay? You said to come to you, so here I am. Unless you never planned on following through with it.” It was dangerous to goad him, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His eyes were pitch black in an instant, staring you down. “Don’t joke about a demon’s word, doll. You’re not ready for that fight.”

Your hands shook, but you felt-

Mortification overcame you as you realized just what you felt.

Those dark eyes narrowed in on the single bead of slick that was rolling steadily down your leg. Cloud-grey eyes returned as realization dawned on him.

“You want me to debase you.” He took a step towards you as his words filled the room. “You want me to tie you up and have my way with you. Isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, but it was evident.

He inhaled deeply, taking another step towards you. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled slowly. “You smell ripe. You want this so badly, poor thing- you just can’t admit it to yourself.”

You pressed your legs together, trying to maintain some kind of decency.

He was in front of you now, close enough to touch if you were braver. “Beg for it. Beg, and I’ll give you anything you want, doll.”

Chest heaving with labored breaths, you gave in. “Please.” You whispered.

His hand- the hands you had been dreaming about for nine months- came up to grip your jaw. “I said beg.”

You crumbled. “Please, Nicholas, please, I’ll be so good-”

His grin was minatory as he brought his lips down to yours.

Your relief was immediate as you sagged into him, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to support you. He walked you backwards toward the bed, still kissing you furiously.

“How wet are you already, doll? I bet your little cunt is just soaked.” Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and set you on the bed, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “Tell me what you want.”

You panted, unable to form a sentence for a moment. “I don’t- I don’t know.”

He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Right, you’re just a helpless little virgin who hasn’t spent the last 9 months having vivid dreams about me fucking her.” He looked up at you through his lashes. “Tell me what you dreamed about.”

“Your hands.” You heard yourself say immediately.

He smirked again. “Oh yeah? What were my hands doing?”

You knew your face was crimson. “They… They were touching me.”

“Where?” The look he was giving you was too intense for you to maintain more than a few seconds.

“Um-” You hesitated.

“You can say it.” He urged, leaning in.

“My… my pussy.” You finished, staring at the ground.

“Do you want me to play with your pussy now?” He was still staring at you.

“Please.” You breathed, anticipation making your entire body tense.

“Good girl, so polite.” As you shivered at the praise, his eyes made their way down your body, to where your core was at eye-level for him. “If you want to stop, say so, is that clear?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Something dark flashed in his face, then he said, “Good girl.”

His hand came up to run a single digit along your slit, through your underwear. You shook involuntarily at the contact.

“Oh doll, you’re starved, aren’t you?” He murmured, almost to himself. “Let’s get these ruined panties off of you.”

You went to shift your weight so that you could shimmy the garment off, only to freeze as Nicholas tore through it like a piece of paper.

He didn’t even look apologetic. “Hope you didn’t like those too much.”

You didn’t have time to consider it as you realized your cunt was fully visible to him now, slick with your own juices.

He sighed as he stared at your core. “Women are the best thing that bastard ever accomplished.” Then he looked up at you. “I’m gonna use my mouth, that okay, doll?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. You felt like you were vibrating in your skin.

He leaned in slowly, as if to not startle you, before running his tongue from your hole to your clit.

The moan you let out was guttural and animalistic.

“There it is.” He said quietly, before diving back into you.

Your head fell back onto the mattress as he lapped at your clit, tongue occasionally diving into your hole. Tears welled up in your eyes at the relief it brought, like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day. Your hands tangled in his long tresses, and he moaned against your pussy. Your hips were bucking into him involuntarily, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. “Nicholas, I’m gonna- I’m so close-” You practically sobbed.

“Shh, I know, doll. Let it happen.” He said soothingly before going back to his ministrations. You came with a primal moan, back arching off of your sheets.

You were still panting when he stood up, surveying you. “All better?”

“Fuck me.” You demanded.

His expression went stoney. He leaned over until you were caged in by his arms on either side of you. “I don’t fuck demanding brats.”

You lost all your bravado. “Please?”

He sighed softly, but not sincerely. “How bad do you want it?”

You could have cried. “Please, I’m sorry Nicholas, I’ll be good, please fuck me- you don’t know how bad I need it-”

“I just had your greedy little unused hole grinding against my tonsils.” He sneered. “I know exactly how bad you need it.”

Your face went hot at the profane nature of his words- but he was right. He saw firsthand how bad you needed this. “Please.” Was all you said.

“Well, I guess since you’re asking so nicely.” He mocked as he stepped back, unbuckling his pants as he went. He slid off the trousers, his erection visible through his briefs. You suddenly felt nervous, looking at the size of him.

He stopped, seeing your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- is it gonna fit?”

He pulled the briefs down at last, finally freeing his cock. It was big- even by supernatural proportions. The tip was an angry shade of red, veins pulsating on the shaft. He huffed a laugh at your face, pulling his shirt off, too. “I bet we can find room.”

Your eyes devoured the tattoos that covered him, tracing the planes of his body as you went. You almost didn’t notice him slinking over to you, crawling onto the mattress in one, fluid motion, landing on top of you.

“I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” He looked at you expectantly.

You nodded. “Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours. You whimpered when his fingers were back on your pussy, running along the folds. As you adjusted to his touch, two fingers slipped inside your hole.

“Fuck you’re still so wet,” He muttered, rocking his fingers back and forth inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his fingers so much larger than your own. Moving his mouth down to your neck, he began scissoring his fingers, stretching you out- a preparation you were thankful for.

You felt your second orgasm approaching as he continued his movements, moans growing higher pitched. “Nicholas, I-”

“Think you can hold on?” He asked. It was a genuine question, you knew whatever answer you gave would be correct.

You considered it for a second. “Yeah, I can- I can wait.” Your legs were still beginning to tremble, though.

He placed a kiss on your temple, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll go slow, but we can stop if you want to.”

You nodded an affirmative. He stared at you blankly, and you remembered yourself. “Yes, sir.” He tapped your nose, a gesture that was oddly sweet, as he said “Good girl.”

You felt him line up with your entrance, the tip slowly sliding in. It was still a stretch- but you found that you liked it, liked the feeling of being filled up. He went slowly, thrusting shallowly, each time going a little deeper. You could hear the noises you were making, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them. He paused three-fourths of the way in.

“Doing okay?”

“Yes Nicholas, please don’t stop.” Came your gargled reply.

He smirked, thrusting a few more times until he was fully sheathed in you.

Your back arched clear off the bed as he bottomed out, his tip nestled against something inside you that made you feel feral.

“Like that, doll?” You could hear how smug he was.

“Please, Nicholas, please-” You whined.

“I know, pretty, I’ll give you what you need.” His hands tightened their grip on your waist as he pulled out and slid back in quickly. You let out another carnal wail, your hands coming around to grab at his shoulders. He pulled out again, slamming into you, continuing on until you felt like a puddle on the bed.

“So wet and tight for me, such a good girl.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You nodded pitifully, not sure why, lost in the pleasure. Over and over again he slid against that sweet spot inside you, making you feel like you were on fire. Your orgasm soon approached you like a freight train.

“Nicholas please, I need- I need to come-” You stammered, close to sobbing.

“I know, it’s so much, I know, you can come, doll.” His words opened a dam as your orgasm overcame you in a powerful wave, making you all but scream as he fucked you through it.

He pulled out shortly after, jerking himself to completion on your stomach. You were gasping for air, legs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as hot ropes of come covered you.

You felt disgusting, in the most delicious way possible.

Nicholas disappeared around the corner, returning with a rag to clean you up. He had used hot water, you noted, so it was warm to the touch.

“So that’s a deal?” You asked when he had finished cleaning you.

He looked sad, but the expression was quickly gone. “I suppose it is.”

He set the rag on your bedside table, already going to collect his clothing.

“I have a question, before you disappear again.” You called over his shoulder.

“And what is your question?” He turned around to face you as he pulled on his briefs.

“If I wanted a Grammy,” You began, cocking your head to the side. “What would your rates be for that?”

He gave you a grin, understanding your implication immediately as he dropped his pants back onto the floor.

“I’d be open to negotiation of terms.” He murmured as he made his way back over to the bed, lips slotting against yours once more.

#nicholas ruffilo rpf #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #bad omens smut #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo smut #nocturnal creatures

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minustwofingers · 4 months

Text

love is a laserquest p.2

series masterlist (read p1 here!)

pairing: rockstar!ellie williams x reader

request: @thatgiraffefromtlou so kindly included me on a post about writing something inspired by these beautiful edits :) thank you !

summary: after a serious of unfortunate events, columbia grad y/n y/l/n finds herself using her hard-earned journalism degree interviewing vapid stars and writing articles that she's convinced are rotting her mind. ellie williams has just dropped the album of the year and it's all anyone is talking about, but all she wants is to be off the press train. a certain interview with a certain interviewer might change this.

cws: explicit language, kind of suggestive phrasing? (i get a little feral with guitar playing descriptions), shitty bosses, mentions of nausea and throwing up (no one actually does tho dw), y/n is anxious asf, my writing is a little....yikes...in this one, loser!ellie

a/n: i lied i lied hehe. here's the next part. im still working on building this stupid app so i havent been able to write as much recently + holiday family stuff but oh am i back!

here's a playlist inspired by this fic

wc: 2.4k

tags: tags :) @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie@galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @diddiqueen @krisyslostsoul

enjoy mwah

It starts slow, like the drip of a broken faucet. It’s not like you’re actively seeking out anything Ellie William’s related, but somehow it seems like everything Ellie Williams related is seeing you out.

In the grocery store, one of her hit songs from her newest album blaring over the speakers.

On the street, where you see crumpled pages of magazines with her face plastered all over them.

And—perhaps the most offensively—on NPR and the New York Times, quite literally days after you’d met her. Suddenly Steve Inskeep and Leila Fadel begin the Up First podcast with a familiar song and devote an entire third of the morning podcast to Ellie and her band’s rise to fame.

You decide to switch to the BBC World News for a while, but even they seem to be under her spell.

It’s not that you don’t like Ellie. She seems fine. Normal. Really cute, actually, and clearly very talented. But whenever you think about her, you think about the ill-fated, awkward, charmless interview.

“What happened?” Alyssa had asked you when she’d come back from surgery. “That wasn’t you out there.”

Which was actually very hurtful to hear, because you’d been holding onto the hope that you’d been all in your head about your interview being a failure. It all culminates in Eric, your 300 year old manager, sending you a strongly worded email that told you that your performance in the interview was so underwhelming that you were being pulled from the interviewer pool and exiled to article writing land. Which could be worse, you admit. You could be unemployed on the streets of LA. At least you’re still writing.

And write you do. You spend all your waking hours either at your keyboard, on your yoga mat, or sat in a chair somewhere at a local cafe for a coffee chat. You’ve mostly deleted social media, since all you see nowadays are pictures of Ellie and Becca’s posts about her experience working and loving her life in New York (the algorithm apparently knows exactly what you want to see the most).

It’s bizarre that, even as you try your best to place your focus on honing your craft and consuming only content that you think will make you a better writer, you still somehow learn everything and more about Ellie Wlliams and her band. It’s in the emails at work whose chains you’re CC’ed on. It’s in the advertisements and the billboards everywhere. It’s even in the conversations you have with your two roommates, Greta and Maureena.

“She’s so fucking cool,” says Maureena dreamily as you sit around the TV in the living room. “I still can’t believe you got to talk to her.”

“It’s not like I actually got to, like, get to know her or whatever,” you say. “It was honestly kind of dry. Just awkward small talk.”

“That’s more than anyone else I know can say.” She reaches forward and grabs a fistful of popcorn. “How come she gets interviewed by the person who probably cares about her the least in all of LA? Like, what are the chances?”

“I care,” you say, and it sounds unusually defensive coming out of your mouth.

Maureena gives you a long, suspicious look, but before she can respond, Greta comes bursting into the apartment, purse swinging from her shoulder.

A greeting is halfway out of your mouth when she cuts you off.

“You guys will not believe what I just did.” She’s nearly bursting with excitement, her eyes bright and wide.

“Like, in a good way?” you ask.

“Yes. Obviously!” Greta fishes around in her pocket until she pulls her phone out, waving it around. “Check your email.”

The last time Greta had come in with an entrance this energetic, she’d been coming to inform you both that she was getting engaged to her loser boyfriend Brian (which—thank God—didn’t actually last), so you and Maureena trade nervous looks.

Maureena gets to it first.

“Tickets to see Ellie Williams? Tonight?” Now she’s about to explode with giddiness, leaping from the couch and throwing her arms around Greta. “I love you, I love you, I love you. How did you get these? I thought they were, like, totally sold out. Or ten thousand dollars.”

She grins wickedly, holding her hands out in a “who knows” sort of way. “You can all thank me later. We have to leave in about 20 if we want to get there in time. Y/N, you good?”

You’d been staring on in horror, jaw dropped and body completely frozen. You had registered that Ellie was playing in LA tonight—it’s all anyone you knew talked about at work today—but you never once considered actually going to try to see her. “Uh, yeah. Give me just a few.”

By the time you get to the venue, you’re convinced that you might actually puke from the nerves. It’s ridiculous. It’s not like three broke 20 some year olds were going to get last minute seats to an Ellie Williams concert that were genuinely good seats. It’s not like she would see you and realize that the girl who flopped while interviewing her was a big enough fan to attend. You’re going to be fine.

“Shit, Grets, how are we so close?” asked Maureena as she leads you both closer and closer to the front.

Horror steadily rises within you as you approach the front row.

“I got these from my boss,” she says, turning around with a devilish glint in her dark brown eyes. “Her daughter got food poisoning, bless her. She had to stay back to take care of her, and I was the only one who stayed late to work, so…”

Greta’s boss was some filthy rich nepo baby who was a partner of a big talent agency. All of a sudden you feel stupid for not realizing this sooner.

“Shit,” you say, mostly to yourself. “Oh no. Oh my god.”

“Isn’t this so cool!” Greta jumps up and down, hands on your shoulders as she tries to rile you up. “Dude, what if she recognizes you?”

“I think I’m going to puke,” you say miserably. Somehow the thought of her seeing you made you want to crawl inside your skin in shame and hide for the next calendar year. “Did you guys not see how ass it was? I was so fucking awkward.”

“It wasn’t even that bad.” Maureena pats your shoulder.

“I literally was forbidden from ever interviewing again because it was so bad.”

“Because Eric hates women,” says Greta. “It’s not your fault he’s a horrible human being. Give it, like, a year or so until he croaks. Then they’ll let you back in the game.”

“Uh huh,” you say, feeling very harrowed.

You remain in this state of abject terror for the entire opener performance. The nausea doesn’t subside. It only gets worse when you realize that if you actually puke, Ellie’s definitely going to see it. Just like she’s going to see you, with the stupid stars Greta had insisted you paint on your cheekbones with glittery eyeliner and eyeshadow.

“She really likes space,” Greta had told you while you’d been getting ready, pretending like you didn’t already know all about this. “So all of her fans wear star stuff to see her.”

Before you can think to wipe off the glitter, everything goes black. Then the crowd goes wild.

When the silvery blue light spills onto the stage, it illuminates Ellie, standing just a number of feet away from you. You barely have enough time to take in the black leather coat and loose white shirt she’s wearing before music explodes out of the speakers, her fingers flying up and down the fretboard.

You’re spellbound as you watch her. Her voice rings loud and clear and slightly gravelly when it snags on her words. She’s nothing at all like the girl you’d met a month ago—there’s no discomfort, no awkwardness. She looks like she’s born to be on stage.

When the first song ends, she steps back, grabbing the standing mic next to her.

“Uh. Hi,” she says, and it’s so endearingly nervous compared to how she’d just sounded that something in your chest twists. She rubs the back of her neck. “I’m Ellie.”

Greta and Maureena join the crowd, screaming and cheering.

“I LOVE YOU!” someone shrieks, louder than everyone else.

“You know,” she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people reacting like this to me just, like, saying my name. It’s really fucking weird. Oh. Shit. Sorry. Are you guys okay with me swearing?”

The roar that comes from the crowd is entirely undecipherable.

“Right,” says Ellie. “Um. I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry to anyone who brought their kids or something. Anyway, this one’s about the ex who cheated on me and gave me mono.”

Before you can react to that, she starts playing.

As she proceeds through the setlist, you’re struck by just how close you are to her, how many things you can notice that hardly anyone else in the crowd can see. You see the outline of her phone in her pocket, the pieces of hair that have fallen out of her little half bun and are sticking to her face, the way that the glitter on her collarbones trails down her shirt in little rivulets.

And, above everything else, you can see the horrible way her fingers straddle the fretboard, curling and pressing with ease so practiced it looks tender.

Apart from this bad, bad development (you can feel your mind going a million miles an hour about things you should not be thinking about), things are going great. Ellie hasn’t noticed you. Or even looked in your direction. You’re not even sure she can see you, given how little light is shed onto the crowd. The false sense of security makes you feel comfortable singing along with Greta and Maureena, your lips forming the lyrics you’d been pretending to not listen to whenever her songs came on.

It happens during a slower song, a sort of ballad that makes your heart thud harder in your chest to hear from her mouth. The lights on stage dim a little. Light spills just the slightest onto the front of the crowd, and Ellie’s eyes fall and snap onto yours so decisively that it almost feels audible.

For a moment, you can’t breathe. Ellie’s voice suddenly catches mid-word, faltering and missing a beat. She thrusts her hand with the mic into the crowd, which eagerly picks up where she left off and finishes the verse.

It’s impossible to see on the screen projecting her image behind her, but you can see the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the stiffness that comes with realizing that you actually know someone from somewhere.

You’re the one who breaks eye contact, focused with a sudden intensity on the way the thin fabric of your sleeves are situated on your arms.

Greta pokes you so hard in your ribs that you gasp.

“What the fuck!” you snap, but the words are swept away by the noise around you.

“Why didn’t you wave?!” she hisses in your ear. “She totally recognized you.”

The realization falls over you with the subtlety of an anvil. Oh my god. You totally should’ve waved. That was the normal, well-adjusted thing to do. Now she was going to think you were weird. And it was too late now. But she didn’t wave to you. Wasn’t she supposed to wave first? Because you of course remembered her, but she might not remember you. Yeah. You could go with that.

Maybe she didn’t remember you.

You can’t relax for the rest of the concert. You try your best to just act normal and dance along with your friends and casually mouth the words, but it’s hard when it feels like she’s staring at you. Which is completely impossible. The light doesn’t fall back onto the crowd until the concert is over and Ellie and her band are long gone backstage.

Two months later, all you can think about is the way that Ellie stuttered over her words when she saw you in the crowd. Of course, this is definitely something you’ve made up in your mind, because there’s a number of reasons why she might’ve slipped up. Maybe she just thought she knew you from somewhere and couldn’t place it. That’s why she (allegedly) kept looking in your direction afterwards. Or maybe you’re completely batshit insane, and she didn’t look at you at all. Because if she had, wouldn’t she have waved? Right?

It’s almost bad enough to distract you from work. You find yourself prowling on Twitter, watching the #elliewilliams tag blow up following every concert date. It doesn’t give you any clarity, because in every picture, she looks just as perfect and cool and confident as she was at the LA show. You don’t know why you assumed she’d look different if it was true that she’d recognized you. More human, maybe. But she’s just as bathed in starlight as she was that night many weeks before, just as far away and untouchable.

You spend so much time thinking about her that you’re convinced you might’ve slipped into a dream when Eric appears at your cubicle with the news.

Instead of saying hello, he plops a stack of papers on the desk in front of you, all labeled “PopNow! Interview Etiquette”.

“Excuse me?” you say.

“Start reading up, kid,” says Eric. “You’re back in the game.”

“What?”

“You have an interview scheduled later this week.” He scowls down at you, gum smacking in his mouth. He smells faintly of tobacco.

“But I thought I was removed from—”

“You still are,” he says. “But someone requested you. Their manager told us they wouldn’t talk to us if they didn’t get you.”

“What?”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Believe me, I was surprised too. Don’t know what they’re on about after the last time you talked to their client. Fuck this one up and you’re out, okay? Got it? The info’s in your inbox already.”

Somehow the words don’t quite sink in until you open the email and see the words on paper.

SENDER: Maria Miller

RECIPIENT: Eric Bal

CC: [email protected], y/ny/l/n@popnow!.com

Eric,

Great to hear back from you. Glad that 3 next Wednesday works.

Best,

final a/n: lmk how u guys feel about this...feeling a little unsure about where this is going but enjoying writing it anyway there are two wolves inside of me etc. etc. also ive missed u all! i hope everyone is doing well! dont b shy!

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams fluff

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panderbearwolf · 2 months

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TMA/TMAP Orignal VS Somewhere else

OK, So….

I’m new here. Take anything and everything I say here with a MASSIVE PILE of salt.

I don’t think that TMAGP takes place in an alternate universe. I think this is the world they left behind, and the fears are making their way back in for some reason.

Now, I know that this is not what most people expect. A lot of what I’ve seen is people thinking this is “somewhere else”, that Jon and Martin made it somewhere else in this sort of monkey’s paw sort of way.

But I don’t think so. I think this is the TMA universe. And the fears are coming back in. That’s why all the artifacts were coming back in from Hilltop. I think Jon and Martin and the extra got caught in the web and dragged into the last semblance of the fears that stayed behind—the web, because it connects everything and wasn’t going to wholly leave its home world because it knows that it’s home is useful and filled with a source of fear—so it left itself a way back in. We know that Annabelle is not wholly trustworthy from Jon’s last statement in TMA 200.

I think that as the fears come back, Jon starts to get more power again, as well. This is why he’s now reaching out to people via e-mail. He’s also probably trying to stop Fear-pocalypse 2, no fun for anyone. Because if the fears are coming back so quickly after leaving, there’s something else driving them back. And they’ll want to feed again.

It would also explain why the ruins of the Magnus Institute exist in this world. Why would a world that never had to deal with the 14 15 cosmic soup of the fears have a ruined Magnus institute? While the fears are a universal thing—or so it seems from how they left in TMA—the specific landmarks and people who are coming through make me think that there wasn’t a somewhere else for Jon and Martin to land.

Now I do understand why people think that this has to be somewhere else. The world of TMA should have been in ruins after the fears took over. And I agree, you’d think. But at the very, very end of TMA we do get Georgie and Basira talking. And it seems like the world just ‘snapped’ back to normal and it seems like everyone is pretending it was just a mass hallucination that everyone suffered. (I don’t want to imagine the generational PTSD, though. Yikes.) It seems like this is the TMA world, a few years down the line after everything righted itself.

That’s why Celia is there. I’ve seen a lot of people saying that she must have made the jump with Martin and Jon, but I don’t see how. (If you have an idea, please, please PLEASE tell me. I would LOVE to be wrong here.) She wasn’t an avatar. She wasn’t even an acolyte outside of being a victim herself. I guess I could see that since she lost her identity that she sort of qualified as a emissary of the stranger, but she’s the only one we’ve met thus far who is might be. And if I’m right, there should be a TON of people who are. Although, I guess people probably wouldn’t talk about their experiences in the fear-world. So maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know.

Anyway, I wanted to ask about something I hadn’t seen many people talking about from TMAP 7: The fact that a ‘security’ force burned down Hilltop Road Consignment shop. It almost seems like the security force knew what was going on, what it meant and why it needed to be stopped. Almost like it was a splinter cell of the original Magnus Institute that recognized what the hell was going on and was trying to stop it. I haven’t seen anyone geeking out about this part as much—mostly because OMG THERE’S SO MUCH to be excited about and theorizing about—but I was hoping someone else thought the same?

I was kind of wondering if there are any descendants from those who survived the TMA series—Basira/Georgie/Melanie—who may have started a watch-group or something because they knew the fears could return.

Anyway.

Happy “I’m losing my goddamned mind” day. I look forward to next Thursday where we somehow find a scrap of sanity left to lose it when TMAP 8 rolls out.

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #the magnus archives #the magnus pod #the magnus institute #basira hussain #melanie king #jonathan sims #jon sims #gwen bouchard #sam khalid #alice dyer #celia ripley #tmagp 7 #tmagp speculation #tmagp theory #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmagp theories

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hearts-hunger · 1 year

Text

four weddings and a funeral — part five

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Series Playlist

⮡part one | part two | part three | part four

Series Summary: You and Danny haven’t spoken in years. When the two of you stumble upon a week of weddings, funerals, and the hotel rooms in between, will fate rekindle your friendship or put the old flames out altogether?

Chapter Summary: Danny's leaving tomorrow. You still have another wedding to go to, but can you bear to be so close to him knowing it's your last night together?

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader, Sam x Birdie | Genres: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, mutual pining, angst | Word Count: 8.5k (yikes) | Chapter Warnings: drinking

A/N: Danny and Sunshine are back in the house!! This chapter's kinda long, but I think it's really cute and emotional - I hope you enjoy all the twists and turns! ♡

You woke in a tangle of sheets to a pounding headache.

It took you a minute to get your bearings; the sun was shining through the breezy curtains, bright and pretty but also kind of painful. You were still in your dress, but your jewelry had been taken off; a cautious touch to your face revealed that your makeup had been cleaned off too.

You turned your face away from the sunlight and found Danny close, his expression relaxed in sleep, his curls mussed and soft.

“Danny,” you said softly.

He gave a sleepy hum. “Wassa matter, sunny?” The hand that was resting on your hip pulled you closer, and it made you realize that your leg was hooked over his thigh.

You felt yourself blush at how close you were to him, how warm and steady he was beside you. You didn’t dare move, afraid to wake him and make him realize for fear he would pull away, afraid to pull away yourself if he wanted you close.

His eyes fluttered open when you didn’t answer. “You okay?”

His voice was gravelly and warm, and you hid your face against his chest to keep him from seeing how flustered it made you.

He chuckled. “What’s wrong, sunshine? You don’t feel good?”

You shook your head. “Headache.” Your stomach also felt like a butterfly rave, but that might have been more from the way he still hadn’t pulled away from you than from your hangover.

He hummed in agreement. “Me too. Maybe we should take it easy at the wedding tonight.”

“Oh!” You’d completely forgotten about your flight back home and the wedding only a few hours after you landed. “What time is it?”

He groaned a little as he turned to grab his phone from the nightstand. “Early, still. I set an alarm so we wouldn’t be late to the airport, and it hasn’t gone off yet.”

You relaxed then, thankful he’d seemingly taken care of everything when you’d been out of commission last night. He turned back to you again, making to pull you close; you wanted to rest against him and get a little bit more sleep, but your headache wouldn’t leave you be, and you were restless.

Danny noticed. “Let me get you some tylenol,” he offered, untangling himself from you and the sheets as gently as possible. “Be right back.”

He came back from the bathroom with his water bottle and some medicine. “Sit up, honey.”

You did, letting yourself enjoy the pet name, and took the medicine before handing him his water bottle so he could take a dose too. He tied his hair up in a messy bun, his faded band tee riding up over the hem of his shorts, and you blushed as you looked away.

“Here,” he said, handing you his water bottle back. “You gotta hydrate.”

You did as he said, pulling a little at the sleeves of your dress that were rubbing uncomfortably over your shoulders. You must have gotten more sun yesterday than you thought.

He gave you a sympathetic wince. “Yeah, I didn’t know if I should get you into pajamas last night, so I erred on the side of caution. I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable.”

He rummaged in his bag until he pulled out one of his huge, soft t-shirts. “Try this. It’ll be loose enough on you that it won’t bother your sunburn, hopefully.”

“Thank you,” you said, catching it when he tossed it to you. You gave him a teasing smile. “Are you sure you trust me with more of your clothes? I still haven’t returned your jacket from the funeral, remember?”

He smiled. “It’s all a part of my master plan,” he said. “The more clothes you steal, the more reasons I’ll have to see you after this wedding tonight.”

You felt a mix of emotions at that. You were thrilled that he wanted to keep seeing you, but you were also reminded that the wedding tonight was the last concrete plan you had to see each other. After tonight, what would realistically be enough to keep him from jetting back off to his fancy rockstar life without you?

You decided to set that thought aside for later, determined to enjoy what could very well be the last of your time with Danny.

“It’s a good plan,” you agreed. “I just think you better count on not getting any of these clothes back.”

He laughed. “I’m not that worried about it, sunny. I think it’s a fair trade, don’t you?”

A car ride, a plane ride, and another car ride later, you were standing blearily in front of the mirror in your bedroom, freshly showered, wondering how on earth you were going to make yourself presentable in less than two hours. This next wedding was sure to be filled with Danny’s swanky, rich, fashionable friends, and at the moment, you looked like you’d been run over by a truck.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Danny.

Text me what you want from Starbucks, the message read. I’ll be over around 6 to pick you up.

You smiled to yourself. You’d fallen back asleep on the plane, and he’d been very patient with you as he handled your bags, his bags, and your still very sleepy state in the airport after you landed. You sent him a message back and tossed your phone on the bed, gearing yourself up for a deep-dive into your closet for something to wear.

—

“That’s it! I’m not going.”

Danny frowned as you came out of your bathroom, looking you over head to toe with a thoughtful gaze.

“Why not?” he asked. “That’s a cute outfit.”

You cringed. “It’s not cute, Danny. It’s possibly the worst wardrobe choice I’ve ever made in my life.”

He smiled. “Dramatic, much?”

You huffed and went back into the bathroom to try on the next outfit, starting to get a little panicked about time and trying to prevent a major meltdown over getting ready. Since he’d gotten to your apartment, Danny had been patiently sitting on the edge of your bed; he hadn’t breathed a word of complaint as you tried on practically your entire closet in an effort to find something to wear, and he hadn’t even felt the need to remind you that both of you were going to be late if you didn’t hurry. He had also given you sweet, heartfelt compliments on every outfit right before you decided you hated it, and then he’d hung every discarded article of clothing neatly back in your closet. You almost didn’t know how to interact with a man who did things like that.

You decided not to read too much into it, though, not least because you were overwhelmed with the simple task of finding something halfway decent to wear. You slipped on the last dress you had, hoping you wouldn’t instantly hate it as soon as you looked in the mirror; it was a gauzy, fluffy thing in shades of pink and champagne, and you were surprised at how pretty you felt when you looked in the mirror.

Danny’s eyes widened when you came out to show him.

“Woah,” he said, looking a little like he’d taken a blow to the head. “That’s... uh, you look really pretty in that, sunny.”

You blushed and gave him a bashful smile. “This is the one, then?”

He nodded, still kind of dazed and dreamy. “Please don’t change out of that one.”

You laughed, amused and pleased at his request. “Okay.”

He came into the bathroom with you as you put the finishing touches on your look, watching you in the mirror for a minute as you put on dangly gold earrings and a shimmery lip gloss.

“Should I wear a different necklace?” he asked, brushing his fingers across the strings of pearls that rested over his black turtleneck. “I don’t match you with these.”

“No, keep them,” you said, a little embarrassed at how quickly you’d said it. There was something about a man as tall and broad as Danny was wearing something so pretty. “I... I like them. Keep them.”

He smiled. “Okay. I’ll keep them.”

You both spent a few more moments getting ready, adding glamorous touches to the soft beachy glow you both had from the wedding yesterday. You noticed that he looked at his watch, but he still didn’t hurry you along, and you were grateful for his patience.

“Okay,” you said briskly, taking one last look in the mirror. “Good?”

He smiled. “Good.”

He ushered you out to his car and opened the door for you, making sure all the fluffy tulle from your dress was safely out of the way before he closed it.

“Music?” he asked as he got in, handing you his phone. “The code’s 5480.”

“Oh,” you said, a little surprised that he’d just handed it over. “Uh, sure. What do you want to listen to?”

He put his hand on your headrest as he backed out of your driveway. “You pick.”

You tried to think of what to put on, a little distracted by the heady scent of his warm and woodsy cologne. You looked over at him for approval when you put on “The Boy with a Moon and Star on His Head,” and you were pleased when he smiled.

“I wonder what our stick figure couple is getting up to these days,” he said, as if you hadn’t just made them start a band last night.

“I guess we’ll have to see what this wedding brings,” you said. You were about to set his phone aside when a text popped up on the screen from someone named Emma, and you couldn’t help but skim it.

Can’t wait to see you tomorrow! it read, complete with a kissy face on the end.

You sucked in a breath. You felt bad for having read it, but all of a sudden, it felt like somebody had your heart in a vise grip. You locked his phone and set it in the cup holder, willing yourself to forget you’d even seen it.

Neither of you talked much on the drive to the wedding; Danny hummed along to the Cat Stevens playlist, and you looked out the window and tried not to think about Emma who couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow. You shouldn’t even know about it, let alone catastrophize because of it; it wasn’t your business who he texted or who texted him, kissy faces or not. He’d made no commitment to you or even hinted at making one. Danny was free to see anyone, anytime, for any reason. You had absolutely no right to be upset about it.

That didn’t stop it from hurting, though. You glanced over at him, watched him drum on the steering wheel in perfect time with the song. He looked over at you and smiled, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“How’s it going, sunny?” he asked. “Feeling down to clown tonight?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You know me. I’m always ready to party.”

With a monumental effort, you pushed the thought of the text aside and promised yourself you’d have one last night of good memories with Danny. You felt a little nervous, though, as he pulled into the venue’s parking lot; you fidgeted with your sun necklace, the one you’d yet to take off since Danny had given it to you, and looked wide-eyed at the people milling around outside the place. It must have cost a pretty penny to rent it out, and you weren’t surprised by the lavish display of wealth in the guests that stood outside. All of a sudden, you felt just how “small-town” you were compared to everyone else there, including Danny.

He pulled into one of the last spots and turned the car off, sitting with you for a moment.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said.

You weren’t surprised that he’d noticed. You tried to stop fidgeting with your necklace and smoothed your hands over your skirt instead.

“Sure,” you said. “I’ll just waltz in there with all your fancy friends and feel totally cool and confident.”

He smiled. “You should,” he said easily. “You look beautiful, you’re smarter than anybody in there, and you’ve got me.”

You breathed a laugh. His presence would help more than he knew, and you planned to stick by him the entire time.

He offered his hand, and you smacked your palm against his.

“We got this,” he said.

You squeezed his hand. “We got this.”

He only let go of your hand long enough for both of you to get out of the car, and then you looped your arm around his and pressed close to his side.

“Please don’t try to introduce me to anybody,” you said.

Danny smiled as he looked over at you, amused and sympathetic as you tightened your grip on his arm.

“I only have two people I want to introduce you to,” he said. Before you could protest, he added, “I promise you’ll like them.”

You could tell it meant a lot to him that you at least spoke to these friends, and though you dreaded the thought of small talk with complete strangers, you would do it for Danny.

“But only those two, right?” you asked.

“Right,” he agreed. He gave you a teasing smile then. “Let me know if you change your mind, though. There’s plenty of people here to awkwardly introduce yourself to. Just say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

You hid your face against his shoulder. “No way. That sounds so horrible.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, sunny. I wouldn’t be so cruel to you.” He patted your hand where it rested in the crook of his arm. “Besides, I barely know anybody here myself.”

You looked up at him as you came inside the venue, content to let him find your spots for the ceremony.

“What are you talking about?” you said. “I thought this was one of your good friends who was getting married.”

He shrugged, a little distracted as he looked around the venue but still paying attention to you.

“He is, but I don’t really know any of his other friends.” He took a tastefully sleek program from one of the ushers. “He and his wife — well, almost wife — hang out with really artsy, fashionable people. I always feel kind of clumsy and awkward around them.”

You smiled. You could see how Danny might feel like a bull in a china shop sometimes, but you thought it was endearing.

“You don’t think you’re artsy and fashionable?” you asked.

Danny huffed a laugh. “No.” He caught sight of someone on the opposite end of the room and waved, a handsome smile lighting his face.

“I’ll show you somebody who definitely thinks he is, though,” he said. “And you’ll have to decide if his style is as goofy as I think it is.”

You bucked up your courage as Danny led you through the crowd, trying to guess which of these swanky wedding guests he was going to subject you to meeting. Maybe it was the guy in the bejeweled sweater vest, or the lady with the obscenely high heels. Maybe it was —

“Oh, shut up.”

Danny looked over at you. “What?”

You smacked a hand against his chest.

“Ow!” he laughed. “What was that for?”

“Hello!” you said, gesturing to the guy in a flowy red suit and sunglasses. “ That’s the friend you’re introducing me to? Freakin’... Sam Kiszka?”

Danny grinned. “I thought you said you weren’t a Greta Van Fleet fangirl.”

“They’re called gresties, Daniel,” you informed him, intentionally not telling him that you’d started to talk to other fans on Tumblr since the funeral. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

“Gresties?” he repeated. “Like... what? Greta Van Fleet besties?”

“Exactly.”

He laughed out loud. “Hey, that’s pretty good. Gresties. I like that.” He took your hand. “Let’s go tell Sam about the gresties. He’ll love to hear that.”

You hesitated, still a little nervous. Sam was watching the two of you with interest, leaning to talk to the pretty girl who stood with him, undoubtedly talking about you.

“Hey, sunny.”

You tore your gaze from Sam, looking up at Danny as he squeezed your hand. “Yes?”

He gave you a sweet smile.

“Don’t be nervous,” he reminded you. “It’s just Sam. He’s not as cool as you think he is.”

You managed a hesitant smile back. “That’s easy for you to say. You know him.”

“I want you to know him too,” Danny said sincerely. “Trust me. He’s gonna love you.”

You took a deep breath. “I must like you or something,” you muttered.

Danny grinned. “I like you too, sunny, so I guess that works out nicely.”

He held your hand as you went to meet Sam, and you tried not to let your nerves get the better of you. It made you feel better to see that the girl by Sam’s side looked a little shy too, and the two of you exchanged nervous and excited smiles even as you both sort of hid behind your guys.

Danny put a comforting hand to your back. “Sam, birdie — this is sunny.”

Sam pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and gave you a charmingly boyish grin.

“Nice to meet you, sunny,” he said. “I know we probably met a few times in middle school, but that doesn’t really count.”

You gave him a bashful smile back, still a little starstruck that you were meeting Sam Kiszka.

“Well, it’s good to meet you in a way that counts,” you said, and you earned a smile. “I know this is kind of lame to say, but... I’m a big fan of your music.”

“Not lame at all,” he assured you seriously. “I love to have my ego boosted.”

You laughed, and Sam’s girlfriend rolled her eyes, fondly exasperated and drawing confidence from her boyfriend’s humor.

“He’s not kidding,” she said, affection in her voice. She gave you a smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, sunny. I’m birdie. And I promise I’m absolutely normal.”

You laughed. “Sweet. I love normal people.”

Sam looked at her with an amused gaze. “What do you mean, you’re absolutely normal? As if I’m not?”

“You are a famous rock star,” she reminded him. “I’m still a small town girl, so I’m less intimidating. I hope.”

“It does make you less intimidating,” you admitted. “I love your dress, by the way.”

She touched a hand to the shimmery rust-colored cocktail dress she wore.

“Oh, thank you! I haven’t had a chance to wear it yet, so this is the trial run.” She put her hand on her hip and posed next to Sam, even though he was talking with Danny.

“You don’t think we clash, do you?” she asked you.

Sam noticed she was posing and immediately posed too, obviously a natural ham. “Where’s the photographer, sweetheart?”

“I’m letting sunny judge our outfits,” she said. “Danny too.”

Danny tilted his head, seeming to take the task seriously. “Looks good. What’s wrong with them?”

“Well, we’re in the same color family,” she said. “I couldn’t decide if it was a good move or a fashion nightmare. What do you think, sunny?”

You smiled and shook your head. “No, I think you look great together.” Side by side, their reds, rusts, and golds gave a warm and inviting aura of a confident, lovely couple, one you wanted to get to know better.

“See?” Sam said. “You worry too much, birdie. You know you’re pretty enough for both of us, no matter what we wear.”

She gave him a slightly bashful smile, pleased with his compliment. “Thanks, honey.”

He gave her cheek a big, goofy kiss, and she giggled and pushed him away. Your chest felt a little tight at the display, endeared at their affection for each other and wishing you had someone to share such tenderness with.

Danny took your hand again, and your breath caught a little.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Danny teased his friends. “Let’s go find our spots.”

You got settled in one of the middle rows, and Danny and Sam fell into conversation almost immediately. You enjoyed listening to them talk and laugh together; their friendship seemed so natural and close-knit, and Birdie was obviously a good friend of Danny’s too.

They tried to include you in their conversation, and you were thankful for their kindness, but you were too distracted to really engage with them.

“Oh, sunny!”

You looked over at Danny, wondering what could have gotten him so excited. You smiled just because he was.

“What?” you asked.

“I totally forgot I brought you a present,” he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his blazer. “I didn’t know if it would go with what you were wearing, but I figured you might want to try it.”

He pulled out a beautiful pearl ring, one that matched the string of pearls he wore. He held it in his palm and offered it to you, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” he said, his voice unsure, his fingers closing reflexively over it. “I just thought you might — ”

“No, I do,” you said quickly, reaching out to take it from him. Your throat felt tight when you took the ring from his big, warm palm and his fingers traced over yours.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly. “I was just surprised.”

“Why?” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Pretty things should be worn by pretty girls.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried not to cry. It was so stupid — it was just a little gift, a bit of jewelry he’d let you wear. It didn’t mean anything. You wondered almost absently if he’d ever given jewelry to Emma, the girl who’d texted him in the car.

“I think it should fit you,” he said. “It’s a little small for my big strong drummer hands.”

You managed a wobbly smile as you put it on the middle finger of your left hand. One more finger over, and...

You held your hand up for Danny to see. “How does it look?”

He smiled and took your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the surface of the pearl.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Just like you, sunny.”

You looked over at him. “And now we match,” you said, trying for lightheartedness when all you felt like doing was crying or kissing him.

He grinned. “As we should.”

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. He was beautiful in the orange and gold light of sunset coming through the high windows, all warm and sweet and genuine as he smiled at you. All of a sudden, the uncertainty and the longing and the awful fear caught up to you — Danny was going home tomorrow, and despite his reassurances that he wanted to see you again, you knew you’d be left with nothing but a ring on the wrong finger and the pieces of your heart in your hands.

His brow knit with worry as he looked at you, and you knew you weren’t hiding your feelings as well as you wanted to.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You didn’t know what you should say, or if you should even say anything at all. “Danny, I — ”

Music started to play, cutting off your quiet plea and drawing everyone’s attention to the back of the hall. You and Danny stood with everyone else, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

You shook your head, trying to tell him it was fine, that he didn’t need to worry.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t say anything; after a moment, he held out his hand, wanting to comfort you without even knowing what was wrong.

You felt the sting of tears and blinked them back. You took his hand and let yourself be comforted by his touch, even though you knew it would be better to get used to being without him.

He held your hand through the ceremony, and you watched his face with an ache of loneliness as his friends exchanged their vows. Even though you knew how unreasonable it was to care for him so deeply after only a few days, you couldn’t deny what you felt; you’d love him forever, together or not, and the pain of losing him had already started while he was still holding your hand.

You barely registered the end of the wedding. You thought you heard Danny tell Sam and Birdie that you’d catch up to them at the reception, and then Danny put his hand to your cheek.

“Hey,” he said gently. His eyes were impossibly kind as he studied your face.

“Hey, yourself,” you said.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “What’s wrong, sunny? Do you feel okay? You want to go home?”

You shook your head. “I feel fine. I want to stay.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to. Maybe you’re ready for a break.”

“A break?” you said bleakly. A break from what? It wouldn’t be a break; it would be the end, and you wouldn’t hurry it along any faster than it was already coming.

You looked up at him and managed a smile.

“I’m okay, Danny, really.” You put your hand over his. “Let’s go drink and dance and have a grand old time.”

He looked a little doubtful, but he didn’t press. He took your hand as you walked together to the reception in the next wing of the venue.

“But you let me know if you want to leave, okay?” he said. “You promise?”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t. “I promise.”

The reception was slated to go all night, and for all of their classiness, the guests certainly knew how to party. You lost yourself a little bit in the booze and the dancing, sticking with Danny and Sam and Birdie as you moved from the bar to the dance floor and back again.

“Hey!” Birdie said, tugging on Sam’s hand. “There’s no line for the photo booth if we go right this very second.”

He followed her happily, and you and Danny went too. You let Sam and Birdie go first, grinning to each other at the sounds of bubbly laughter from behind the curtain, and weren’t surprised when Sam stepped out with his face covered in lipstick kisses.

Danny laughed. “You look like you’re in a cartoon, Sam.”

Sam beamed as he got their pictures, happy as could be when his girl took his hand and to lead him onto the dance floor again. “Some cartoon, huh!”

Danny held the curtain back for you. “Shall we?”

The two of you tried to squish together in the little booth, both of you laughing and tipsy and flushed. One of you must have accidentally pushed the button, because you heard it counting down to your first picture.

“Hurry!” you said, both of you laughing breathlessly as you tried to get into place before the shutter sound. You tripped over Danny’s feet and grabbed onto his shoulder to keep from careening out of the booth; to the same end, he took you by the waist and plunked you down on his lap.

“Settle down now,” he said, trying to be stern but unable to keep up the act as you started to giggle. He smiled up at you, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes, flashing those little fangs you loved so much; he looked at you like you’d hung the moon, and as you cradled his face in your hands, you felt the fragile part of your heart finally crack in two.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

I’m dying of love for you, Danny. “Nothing.”

You moved your hands and leaned your head against his. “Let’s get one picture where we’re actually looking at the camera.”

He squeezed you tight as the last photo counted down. “Big smile!”

When you got your strip of photos, you almost couldn’t bear to look at them. The joy you felt at being with him was captured there in black and white — a blurry picture of your laughing attempts to fit in the booth, the surprise on your face and the grin on his when he’d put you on his lap, the tenderness in your expression when you’d touched his face, both of your big smiles when you pressed as close as you could get to each other. You swallowed past the tightness in your throat and handed the strip to Danny.

“You don’t want them?” he asked.

“No, I — ” You cleared your throat. “Um, I don’t have anywhere to keep them. Will you hold on to them for me?”

“Oh. Sure.” He tucked them in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Where to next, sunshine?”

“The bar,” you said. You needed another drink. You needed a whole bottle.

He followed you without complaint, and when you got another round of drinks, you hardly tasted yours. You felt caught somewhere between giddiness and a terrible urge to cry, hysterical and drunk and just barely able to keep from telling Danny Wagner in front of god and everybody that you were in love with him.

“We should dance,” you said, needing an outlet for the jittery, anxious pressure building in your chest.

Danny didn’t move from where he’d leaned up against the counter, watching you with an amused smile.

“Where do you get all this energy from, sunny?” he asked.

You took another sip of your drink, feeling so keyed-up you thought you might go crazy. Didn’t he feel anything between you? You thought you would suffocate if you didn’t get out from under the weight of how much you wanted him.

Your hands fluttering nervously like the wings of a bird, you reached for him.

“Come on,” you said, and the words had barely gotten out of your mouth before somebody knocked into you from behind, sending you straight into Danny’s arms.

“Woah, hold on,” he said, hurrying to catch you even as your drink sloshed over the sleeve of his jacket and the front of your dress.

You heard a heartfelt apology from behind you, and then Danny’s assurance that you were both fine.

“Right?” he asked you, still holding your arms to make sure you were steady. “You’re good, sunny?”

You couldn’t answer, suddenly overcome with tears, trying in vain to clean his sleeve off even though it was soaked.

“Sunny?” he said again, a little worried this time. He ducked his head to see your face. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you said miserably, “but your jacket — I’m sorry, Danny.”

He glanced over at the sleeve you were trying to fix as if he’d only just noticed it. “My jacket?” he said. “Sunny, I’m not worried about my jacket. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied. You didn’t know why this had been the final straw, but all of a sudden you were overwhelmed with everything, exhausted and completely overcome.

“I’m s-sorry I spilled my stupid drink on you, Danny,” you all but sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” He took your now-empty glass from you and set it on the bar, then framed your face with his big hands and made you look at him. He was searching your face with such worry, and your expression crumpled like a little girl’s.

“Sunshine,” he said, at a loss, unsure why this had upset you so badly. “Please don’t cry, honey. It’s really not a big deal. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

He looked so bewildered you felt a slash of pity for him. “Of course I’m not. It was an accident, and it wasn’t even your fault.” He drew back just enough to look you over. “Oh, and you got the worst of it, too. You’re soaked, honey.”

You hadn’t even noticed. You looked down at the front of your pretty dress and saw it was dark and splotchy.

“Now, you don’t have to cry about that either,” Danny said quickly, a little panicked as he tried to avert another crisis. “I don’t think it’ll stain, but we’ll rinse it out just to make sure. Come on.”

You looked up at him, trying to catch your breath and stop crying. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, looking around for something at the bar; he grabbed a few napkins and did his best to wipe the tears from your face.

“I gotta start wearing a pocket square,” he said under his breath, gently blotting the napkins against your cheeks.

You couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped you. “Why, so you can get my mascara all over it?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “No, so I can have something soft for you when you cry.”

That almost started you crying again, but you managed to stop after only a few tears had streaked down your cheeks.

“Okay, sunshine,” he said tenderly. “Let’s go up to my room so we can get you cleaned up.”

“You’re staying here?” you asked. You didn’t know the venue had a hotel too, but you were glad you didn’t have to travel anywhere in your wet dress.

He hummed in agreement and took your hand. “Come on, sunny.”

You followed his lead, content to let him find a path through the carousing guests; you didn’t meet Sam and Birdie on the way, but you saw that Danny sent them a text to let them know you were headed upstairs.

It was much quieter when you got out of the reception hall, and you were thankful for it even though your ears were still ringing with the music. You leaned against Danny in the elevator, holding tight to his hand; you still felt fragile, like you were liable to shatter to pieces at any moment. Danny gave your hand a reassuring squeeze every once in a while as you made your way to his room.

Inside, Danny left you for a moment to turn on the bathroom light.

“Is that too much?” he asked when he came back to your side. “I think I’m a little overstimulated. I figured you’re probably feeling that way too.”

You nodded, sure he was right. “That light’s fine,” you said meekly. “Thank you.”

He hovered for a moment, seemingly unsure what to do to help.

“Let me get you something to change into,” he said, going to search through his luggage. “Yeah. That seems like the smart thing to do.”

You watched him with an incredible ache of tenderness, not sure why any man would care for you so selflessly, not sure anything in the world could keep from tying your heart to his for as long as you lived.

“Here,” he said, handing you a stack of neatly folded clothes. “I don’t think I have any bottoms that would fit you, but...”

“I have biker shorts under my dress,” you said.

“Oh,” he said. He looked less sure of himself than he ever had. “Well, good. You can pick whatever you want out of that to wear, and if you want something else, just let me know.”

“Thank you.” You hesitated before you turned to head for the bathroom. “Um, Danny?”

“Yeah?”

You felt shy to ask, for some reason. “Could you unzip my dress? I can’t, um...”

“Of course,” he said, and you felt that his hands were shaking when he brushed your hair over your shoulder and pulled the zipper down.

“Thank you,” you said again. You turned to face him; for a moment, in the quiet darkness of his room, there was nothing in the world but you two and the few inches of space between.

You shook yourself. If you’d stood there a moment longer, you’d have done something that couldn’t be taken back, and you couldn’t decide if it was wise or incredibly foolish to have let the moment pass.

“Right,” you said, flustered, raw with emotion. “Um, thanks. Again.”

You fled into the relative safety of the bathroom, kicking yourself for being so awkward, so girlish, so in love with him it made you act like an idiot. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror; you were a wreck, makeup smudged and tear-streaked, dress soaked and bedraggled. You winced.

When you’d rinsed your dress in the sink and hung it over the shower curtain, you washed your face and dressed in Danny’s clothes. He’d given you a t-shirt and a soft fair isle sweater and a pair of black socks way too big for you. You wore them anyway, the heel part coming to the bottom of your calf, and felt much more relaxed in his comfortable clothes that smelled like him.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed when you came out, his jacket discarded over the back of a chair but otherwise still dressed in his wedding outfit. He looked as tense as you’d felt downstairs, and you wondered what was bothering him.

His phone lit up with a text where he’d set it on the bed. He quickly turned it off.

Oh. You felt kind of numb to it now. Maybe it was Emma again, or maybe it was some other girl who couldn’t wait to see him when he was done having to take care of you.

He gave you a weak smile. “Feel better?”

You nodded and scrubbed your face with the too-long sleeves of his sweater, tired and starting to sober up. “A little. Do you have a hair tie?”

He took one off his wrist. “Come here.”

You did, not entirely sure why, standing between his knees like you’d be able to handle it. He gathered your hair with gentle brushes of his fingers, but he couldn’t get the angle he wanted; he stood and towered over you again, and for all your numbness, you could no more keep from hugging him than you could keep the stars from shining.

He breathed a laugh. “You okay?”

You nodded against him, hugging him tighter. You felt tears start again and valiantly managed to keep them from falling.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said.

He finished putting your hair up and hugged you to him, running a soothing hand over your back. “You’re welcome, sunny. It’s my pleasure.”

As much as you wanted to stay close and let him comfort you, you made yourself pull back from him. You took a deep, shaky breath; it was time to rip the band-aid off, and you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry.

“If you’ll take me home,” you said, “I’ll change out of these clothes and get the other things I borrowed. That way you don’t have to make another trip tomorrow.”

He blinked. “Uh... I mean, of course I’ll take you home if you’re ready to leave. But I don’t mind coming by tomorrow. My flight’s not until later.”

You shook your head, wishing he wouldn’t drag it out any longer. “That’s okay. It’ll save you the trouble.”

His phone buzzed again, but he ignored it.

“It’s no trouble,” he insisted. “I thought we... I don’t know, that we might go for that coffee date we keep talking about.”

You’d forgotten about that. You’d been too busy daydreaming about your fiftieth coffee date to remember that you hadn’t even had one.

“Danny, I...” Your throat felt tight again, close to crying. You didn’t want him to think he owed you some consolation prize; he could just go, and these last few days would be nothing but a fond memory. “We don’t have to.... You don’t have to...”

His hopeful expression shuttered into one of resignation and something like hurt.

“You don’t want to,” he said, and it was a statement, not a question.

You couldn’t think of how to tell him that going on a stupid coffee date with him was the most important thing in the world to you, that it meant so much more to you than just one date. His phone lit up with a text, again, and the tangle of hurt and fear and longing in your chest finally burst apart.

“Why don’t you answer her?” you asked, gesturing to his phone. “She’s obviously trying to get in touch with you.”

He frowned. “Who?” He looked behind him to where you’d gestured and saw only his phone.

“Is it Emma?” you asked, knowing it was bitter and petty to bring it up, but you were unable or unwilling to bite your tongue any longer. “Or is it some other girl waiting for you as soon as you finally get rid of me?”

He looked at you with utter bewilderment and a hint of frustration. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “There’s not any other girls, and I’m not trying to get rid of you.”

Another text. You felt lightheaded.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” you snapped. “She’s ringing your phone off the hook, Danny. She has been since she told you she ‘can’t wait to see you tomorrow’.”

He didn’t say anything, and there was a storm of emotion in his expression that you couldn’t quite make out. Anger, confusion, anxiety, embarrassment — you were surprised to see each one in the flash of his dark eyes and the tight set of his jaw.

He picked up his phone and handed it to you. “Read the texts.”

“She doesn’t want me, Danny.”

“Read. The. Texts.”

You took his phone, startled into obedience by his tone. You saw the texts were from Sam, not from Emma or some other girl, and immediately felt guilty.

“Never mind,” you said, trying to hand his phone back. “I don’t — I’m sorry, I — ”

“No, go ahead.” His voice was low. “Read them, sunny. Since you’re so sure you’ve got me all figured out.”

You looked helplessly at the screen, skimming dozens of texts between him and Sam. Your gaze snagged on one phrase, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

I love her. It was right there in front of you, a message from the boy you loved to his best friend. I love her. I don’t know if I should tell her.

You looked up at him, afraid to ask if it was real. “What is this?”

He gave you an incredulous look. “What do you mean, ‘what is this’?” he said. “What does it look like, sunny?”

You looked back down at the texts.

Tell her!!! Sam had replied. Birdies says you should too.

It’s not crazy?? Danny had sent back. We haven’t even kissed! No way. It’s insane. I can’t tell her.

Come on man, Sam said. When you know you know. Tell her tonight. Don’t wait.

Danny hadn’t sent anything back after that. You guessed that had been when you’d walked in, and the messages you’d been so bothered by had been Sam pestering Danny for an update.

Suddenly the messages blurred in a wash of tears, and you pushed his phone back into his hands and covered your face.

He sighed. “Sunny...” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Look, this doesn’t have to be a whole thing. I’m sorry I lost my temper and made you read those texts. I’ll drive you home, and then you never have to see me again.”

You looked up, awash with tears. “You don’t want to see me again?”

He looked stricken at your voice. “No! I mean, yes! I mean...” He held his hands out to you, helpless, pleading. “Of course I want to see you again. I want to see you every single day for the rest of my life because I love you, sunny. But now you’re crying again, and I have no idea how you feel about me saying that, and — oof!”

He grunted a little as you all but threw yourself into his arms, surprised but still steady as he caught you against him.

“What is this?” he asked, repeating your question from earlier.

You pulled back just enough to look at his face. His expression caught between fear and hope, and you loved him more than you could ever say.

“What do you mean, ‘what is this’?” you said. You touched your hands to his cheeks and gave a watery laugh. “I love you too, Danny.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than he’d taken you in a tight hug and stood to spin you around.

“Yes!” he yelled, exultant, boyish and sincere. “Yes! Oh, thank god!”

You giggled as he spun you one more time, dizzy and happy and so in love with him you could barely stand it. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you would get such an enthusiastic response to a love confession, and you adored him for it.

He set you gently on your own two feet but still held you close.

“I love you,” he said. “Is that crazy?”

You laughed. “No. I don’t think it’s crazy at all. I love you too.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you, warm and passionate and sweet. When he finally let you come up for air, you looked up at his beloved face.

“I love you, Danny,” you said softly.

He smiled. “I love you too, sunshine.”

He kissed you again, and you could have stayed like that forever if Danny’s phone hadn’t gone off over and over again.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Danny muttered between kisses.

You smiled, affectionate towards Danny’s friends who just wanted to make sure he was happy.

“Tell him,” you said. “He’s not going to stop until you do.”

Danny gave you a few more kisses, attempting to leave you after each one, drawn back to you irresistibly and met with your laughter and sweet kisses in return.

“Go,” you laughed, giving him a light push towards the bed where his phone lay with several texts on the screen.

He did, reluctantly, but he was pleased that you came to sit next to him at the end of the bed as he scanned through Sam’s texts.

“Look at this,” Danny said with a fond, mildly exasperated laugh. He showed you the text thread and scrolled through a number of texts all bearing virtually the same messages: did you tell her? how did it go?

“What are you gonna say?” you asked.

He showed you the text he sent. I told her. Is it possible to die of happiness?

“Aw, Danny,” you said softly. You gave him a gentle kiss, and he melted against you.

Sam texted back, and both of you laughed when you read it.

HOLY SHIT??? to answer your question I don’t think so otherwise birdie would have killed me by now but CONGRATS BROTHER!!!!

A few seconds later, he texted again. Birdie says she wants to have lunch tomorrow and hear everything from both of you but for now we’ll shut up and leave you to it!!!! Go get ‘em tiger!!!

“Oh, god,” Danny said with an embarrassed laugh. He locked his phone and tossed it on the bed. “Well, there you have it. The thrilling saga of texting my friends who apparently made it their personal mission to see that I told you all my dirty secrets.”

He laid back on the bed, and you remembered there were still secrets you hadn’t gotten the answer to. You were content to forget it, though, not wanting to bring up anything that might ruin the perfect balance of happiness and excitement between you.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

He gave you a knowing smile. “You’re thinking real hard about something, sunny. Tell me. Do you want to ask me something?”

You didn’t know whether to like that he could read you so easily or to blush at the thought that every emotion played across your face as you felt it.

“Kind of,” you admitted, “but it doesn’t matter. It’s not a big deal.”

“Should be an easy thing to answer, then.” He tugged very gently on the necklace he’d given you. “You should know right from the beginning that you can talk to me about anything, sunshine. I promise.”

Your heart wobbled a little. “Thank you,” you said, and you meant it.

“You don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome.” He tenderly brushed his knuckles against your jaw. “What do you want to ask me, sunny?”

You took a deep breath.

“Who’s Emma?” you finally asked. “The... the girl who can’t wait to see you tomorrow?”

He gave you a kind smile.

“She does my hair,” he said.

You felt a searing flash of embarrassment. “No she doesn’t.”

He laughed. “Yes, she does. I’m getting highlights tomorrow.”

You winced, mortified at yourself and your overreaction. You covered your face with your hands.

“Oh, Danny. I’m really sorry.”

“Why? You don’t think I’d look good with highlights?”

You couldn’t answer, and he chuckled as he propped himself up on his arm, pulling your hands away from your face with his free hand.

“It’s okay, sunny,” he said consolingly. “I get it.”

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions,” you said. “I’m sorry, Danny. It wasn’t any of my business who you were texting or who was texting you anyway.”

“But she sent me a kissy face,” he said sympathetically. “I understand why you were upset, sweetheart.”

Your heart jumped at the pet name, and you couldn’t stifle the nervous, giddy laugh that bubbled out of you.

He grinned. “What was that cute little laugh for?” he asked. “Did you like it when I called you sweetheart?”

You covered your face with your hands again, blushing hot. “No.”

He chuckled. “Come here, sunshine. If you hide behind your hands every time you blush, we’re gonna be in trouble.”

He tugged gently on your wrist, and you followed until you leaned your head against his shoulder with a soft thump.

“You are my sweetheart,” he said tenderly, amused and affectionate. He kissed your cheek. “My baby love, my dearest, my pretty girl. My honey bunch.”

You smiled. “Your honey bunch?”

“Yeah, you like that one?” he said with a soft laugh. He peppered gentle kisses over your cheeks. “Let me take you on a date tonight, honey bunch. A real one, not a wedding.”

“But we like going to weddings.”

“We do,” he agreed. “But I think we need something a little more low-key, like some late-night Thai food.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder. “I actually know a good Thai place around here.”

“Sweet. Let’s go.” He gave you a quick kiss as he stood, and you were a little stunned with how easy it was, how casual and wonderful it was to be kissed like that.

He looked mildly worried when you didn’t stand with him. “You okay? You want to go somewhere else?”

You shook your head. “No.” You took the hand he offered you. “Can you kiss me again?”

He smiled and pulled you close. “Sunshine, I’ll kiss you until you’re sick of me.”

“Not possible.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned close to kiss you again. “Well, I guess it can’t hurt to find out.”

danny taglist: @tearsofbri @busybeingtrash @myway-late @gotavansleep @gretavanbri @stardustchxrds @pxppylove @mariegvf

fic taglist: @streamsofstardust

gvf taglist: @malany-gvf @spark-my-nature @eearevee @madneedshelp @demonrat444 @josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny @gretavandann @sacredjake @myleftsock @joshskittytickler21 @hellowgoodbye @watchingovergvf2 @fearfulspirit @mywaysoon @carbondancingthroughtime @caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran @shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444 @wildflowerxx-x

@gvfrry @ohhey1293 @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf @jakeydoesit @gretasmokerising @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @bowievanfleet @s0livagant @strugglingtodoshit @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavansteph @gretavanbitches @myownparadise96 @luverleaver @weightofdreamz @greatervanfleet @maedesculpaeusoubi @jakekiszkasbestie @pineapple-photographer @baguettejuliette @alexxavicry @levi-wants-ur-bones @carlybubs @cowboysamkiszka @dannyandthekiszkas @jordierama @slutforsteve @starshine-wagner

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here!

#oh man i was so happy to be writing danny and sunny again #let me know what you think of this chapter!! there's still one more to go after this <3 #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #gvf #danny wagner #maddie writes stuff!#four weddings and a funeral fic

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mamaestapa · 1 year

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I Think Somebody Has A Crush

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/N Y/L/N moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a new start. Move in day arrives and she discovers something terrible...the apartment complex gave her the wrong lease. Instead of living with who she originally was supposed to, she's now living with the hottest quarterback in the NFL, Joe Burrow. Y/N is stuck living in the same apartment with him for a year...which the two are not thrilled about. However, as time goes on, they realize that maybe this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to them. Will Y/N and Joe stay enemies, or will they find themselves falling in love?

•chapter summary: Groupchat with Joe and the guys

•word count: 1.5k

•warnings: Language, jealous Joe, mentions of sex, it’s kind of cringe lol

Series Masterlist

———————————————————

October 26, 2022

chat with: joe😎, ja'marr🔥, logan🏈, sam💪🏻, evan🤩

joe😎- Guys...Im going to go crazy.

logan🏈- Come on Joey B, don't be so dramatic

sam💪🏻- What could possibly make you go crazy?

ja'marr🔥- Burrow don't listen to them, you're already crazy

joe😎- Thanks Ja'Marr, 'preciate it.

ja'marr🔥- You're welcome😍

sam💪🏻- Haha. you guys are hilarious. I cant stop laughing.

sam💪🏻- But seriously Joe, what makes you think you're going to go crazy?

joe😎- Y/n! Y/n is going to make me crazy

logan🏈- Mhm...crazy in love😏

Joe😎- Absolutely not

Logan🏈- Come on now, don't lie

Ja'Marr🔥- Y/n would make me crazy in love, that girl is sexy as hell

Evan🤩- I agree😍

Joe😎- Seriously? Come on guys.

Sam💪🏻- Hey Evan, speaking of Y/n, I saw she posted you on her story a couple weeks back. Care to explain?👀

Evan🤩- Y/n and I have been talking a bit. We've gone to the gym together a few times, worked out.

Ja'Marr🔥- "Worked out" yeah that's code for

doin' it, E😏

Logan 🏈-lmao

Evan🤩- Shut up, Ja'Marr. We haven't done anything...yet

Sam💪🏻- Ohhh, so you plan on doing it with her at some point?

Evan🤩- I cannot confirm nor deny that statement. If it happens, it happens. I'm just happy talking to her for now

Logan🏈- Atta boy, McPherson!😉

Ja'Marr🔥- Money Mac with the rizz😩

Sam💪🏻- Oh

Logan🏈- Yikes

Ja'Marr🔥- ?

Evan🤩- Please never say that again.

Ja'Marr🔥- What?

Sam💪🏻- Rizz. It makes you sound like a pre-pubescent middle schooler

Evan🤩-😂😂

Logan🏈- It really does😂

Ja'Marr🔥-Whatever. Y'all are just mad that you don't have any

Ja'Marr🔥 changed Evan🤩 to The Rizzler🥶

Sam💪🏻- Oh jesus christ🤦‍♂️

Logan🏈-😂😂😂

The Rizzler🥶- Ja'Marr, come on man change it back!

Ja'Marr🔥- Nah, this shit funny af💀

The Rizzler🥶-If you don't change it back, I'll tell Y/n about that dream you had.

Logan🏈- Do tell

Ja'Marr🔥- You swore you wouldn't tell a soul

The Rizzler🥶- Change my name back and I'll keep that promise, don't change it and I'll tell this whole group chat that you had a boner the size of-

Ja'Marr🔥- OKAY OKAY

Ja'Marr changed The Rizzler🥶 to Evan🤩

Evan🤩- Thank you.

Sam💪🏻-Part of me wants to hear the dream, but part of me doesn't😂

Logan🏈- You and me both😂 Hey Joe, I know you're reading these texts man, why've you been so silent?

Joe😎- Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because I don't want to hear about my teammates getting boners over my roommate

Sam💪🏻- Joe...

Joe😎- What? I just don't want to hear about Evan and Y/n fucking or about Ja'Marr having the hots for her. I already hear from her enough I don't need you guys talking about her too

Logan🏈- Hmm...it sounds to me like Burrows jealous

Joe😎-HA you're hilarious.

Sam💪🏻- Don't deny it dude, you so are. You've ignored all texts about Y/n AND your jaw clenches every time McPherson mentions her name at practice. I haven't seen you act like this since that Brayden guy tried asking Olivia out at Nicks party.

Joe😎-I'm not jealous, okay?

Logan🏈 Denial is the first stage, my friend👀

Joe😎- You guys are such idiots, I'm not JEALOUS. Evan, if you want to ask out Y/n go right ahead.

Evan🤩- Thanks...I'll think about it

Ja'Marr🔥-Oh come on man, you are totally jealous

Joe😎- Can we change the subject?

Ja'Marr🔥- ✨Jealous✨

Logan🏈- Ja'Marr wtf?🤦‍♂️😂

Ja'Marr🔥- Just callin' it like I see it

Evan🤩- Come on guys, just leave him alone. He says he's not jealous, so he's not jealous

Sam💪🏻- You don't know him as well as Ja'Marr and I do...he's totally jealous. He just hates to admit it

Logan🏈- Joe, we'll stop talking about your jealousy if you tell us why Y/n is going to make you crazy

Joe😎- Back on the topic of Y/n once again🙄

Sam💪🏻-You're the one that brought her up in the first place! You said she's going to make you go crazy. So tell us, why is she going to make you go crazy?

Joe😎- First of all, she leaves her shit all over the place. Like her makeup out on the bathroom counter, her clothes in MY laundry, her candles all over the apartment, it's just annoying.

Logan🏈- Mhm...

Joe😎- And she leaves her, how do I put this, woman items under MY side of the sink!

Ja'Marr🔥- Wait. So you're tellin me that little cup thing I found isn't a rubber shot glass?

Sam💪🏻-Oh dear god

Joe😎- Nope. That little cup thing is called a Diva Cup, Ja'Marr

Logan🏈- Yeah it's not a shot glass😂 girls shove it up their va- you know nevermind. You get what I'm trying to say.

Ja'Marr🔥- I TOUCHED THAT THING

Evan🤩- No one told you to touch it💀

Ja'Marr🔥- I don't even know what to say.

Sam💪🏻-😭That's a first

Logan🏈-😂 What else does she do Joe?

Joe😎- She's always at the apartment and I have needs. I can't just bring dates over to the place when she's home. I've tried to hook up with a girl and twice now, TWICE Y/n has walked in on us and ruined the moment

Evan🤩- She told me about that

Joe😎-Great.

Sam💪🏻-But that's not her fault, you're the one that decides to do it on your couch

Logan🏈- And not tell them you have a roommate that's a girl

Evan🤩-A very pretty one at that

Joe😎- I guess you guys are right. She just gets so annoying to live with sometimes. I just wish she wasn't my roommate. If she wasn't my roommate maybe, you know what, nevermind.

Sam💪🏻-What do you mean?

Joe😎- Shes a really sweet girl. And fuck, she's gorgeous too.

Ja'Marr🔥-👀👀

Joe😎- We got off to a rough start and I just wish things could have been different

Logan🏈-Joe…

Joe😎-What do I do to fix this?

Sam💪🏻- Joe, man, I think you might have a crush

Joe😎-Oh come on, I do not.

Ja'Marr🔥- Come on Joey B, quit denying this shit

Loagn🏈-Just admit it, you're jealous and you like Y/n. It’s not a big deal dude

Evan🤩-Yeah. Joe, I don't want to get in your way man. Just say the word and she's all yours

Joe😎-Okay FINE. Maybe I do have feelings for Y/n and maybe I am a little jealous, but I'll get over it. She obviously really likes you Evan and I don't want to get in the way of that

Evan🤩-Are you sure?

Joe😎-Yeah, I want you both to be happy. Plus, I barely even know her. You know her better than I do, shooter😂

Logan🏈- Then get to know her Joe. You see her every day and you live with her, it wouldn't hurt to get to know her.

Sam💪🏻-He's right. Who knows, maybe you two will get along if you ACTUALLY get to know her

Joe😎- I guess you're right

Ja'Marr🔥-There ain't no guessin, they ARE right

Logan🏈-Thanks Ja'Marr😚

Ja'Marr🔥-❤️

Evan🤩- So Joe...you're sure you're fine with Y/n and I?

Joe😎-Yeah, go get her shooter.

Joes pov:

I felt my heart drop as I hit send. I shut my phone off and set it down next to me on the couch. I sighed deeply and put my head in my hands. I've never felt these feelings before—about anyone.

The guys are right, I am jealous. I'm jealous that Evan gets to be the one to talk to Y/n all the time. I'm jealous that he's the one that gets to know her in ways that I wish I could.

But this does NOT, and I repeat, does NOT mean that I have a crush on her.

I just think that Y/n is a beautiful girl with a great personality.

But I don't have a crush on her.

I'm just jealous of the other guys. She's willing to get to know my teammates and not me. I did this to myself though. If things could have gone better at the start, maybe the situation with Y/n would be much different.

Logan is right though, I just need to get to know Y/n . Somehow I need to get to know the girl I've been living with for a month now. I have no clue what to do or how I'll do it, but one thing is for sure.

Y/n and I will be on better terms soon. We have to be, right?

hey loves!!

i haven't written a chat in forever, so i apologize if it's not good. i had a lot of fun writing it though, haha!

we're slowly starting to get into the GOOD good parts of this book. joe is starting to realize that maybe you aren’t just a roommate to him after all...

i already have the next chapter written (it's one of my favorites that i've written so far and i think that you will all enjoy it very much!) but i'm going to wait to post it until this one has been up for a couple days!

anyways, i hope you are all doing well! i appreciate all of the love and support you have shown on this story. it means so much to me!!🤍

tags:

@jackharloww @ilovejoeburroww @dandelionwrites8 @ijustcrypretty @sinners-98-world @a-moment-captured @stainednailpolishremover

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #nfl imagines #imagines #nfl #welcome to the jungle

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icanseethefuture333 · 7 months

Text

The Astrological Observation of Gen Z, (a series)

Part I 👼🏽🩷:

The rise & fall of "chick flicks" & the possible resurgence of those films thanks to Barbie? 💗 + Victoria's Secret Angels/fashion show makes a come back, will it succeed 👼🏽?

SPOILER ALERT

Here is the birth chart (placidus) of the most loved and adored doll of all time, Barbie! The Barbie movie begun filming in March 2022, had it's first premiere on July 9th, 2023, and was aired officially on July 21st, 2023. If the movie started to be filmed in March 2022, then that means the movie would have been created during Barbie's solar return. The movie was going to have a big impact on the world from the moment it was produced. Although, yes of course it's Barbie who's super famous, but I believe that the intention behind the film was more sincere than other movies in comparison. In Barbie's solar return chart, there is a fear of being "forgotten" or "lost", which is exactly what Barbie struggled with in the movie. There is an Aquarius dominance and a 11th and 9th house stellium. Her North node, Moon, and Uranus are in her 12th house which deals with the subconscious. In the film, Barbie and the woman who owned her as a little girl had a telepathic connection (Aquarius Venus at 2° in the 9th house), which she did not know until she started having "oppressive thoughts about death" (Aquarius Mercury in the 10th house at 28°). Which Weird Barbie gives her a "choice" of going back to normal or knowing the secrets of the universe (a spiritual awakening). Which then explains how her 11th house and 9th house partnered together in the film. Friendship, philosophy, and wisdom all being important lessons that Barbie was forced to experience. Barbie's journey throughout the movie was painful and scary. She wasn't able to be the one to give advice or help little girls anymore, this time - people had to help her, which gave her the confidence to become the woman she wanted to become (Barbie has so many squares and conjuctions in her solar return chart, like let me go buy a Barbie doll and tell her how much I love her, I'm so sorryyyy 💔😭).

Barbie's transits on the day of the Barbie movie's official release. Aspects that are standing out to me are Part of Fortune sextile Pluto, Uranus sextile Moon, Pluto sextile Jupiter, Mercury trine Venus, and Mars square Ascendant. The movie will go down as a cult classic. It globally is a big hit on social media and caused people to even dress, think, and feel differently (especially regarding their femininity). The mars square ascendant could be why men or people with internalized toxic masculinity feel uncomfortable with the movie. It triggers something in them and I feel like secretly that men who say they hate Barbie, actually love her??? They could be remembering childhood memories of the doll and possibly even wanted to play with one but weren't allowed to or wished they spent more time with their moms or sisters. The Mercury trine Venus represents how the film was able to convey women's thoughts well and the things they wish they could say but were suppressed due to the patriarchy. Women as a whole really love Barbie or think highly of her. The film's hypothetical birth chart has a 12th house stellium and still conveys the significance of intuition and the subconscious mind. What's beautiful is the film's Pluto is in the 5th house at 29° in retrograde. If they intended to have people reconnect with their inner child, then it was done successfully. Which confirms my belief and also hope for sweet, sappy, inspiring chick flicks about friendships and self love happening again.

This wouldn't be a post about the 2000's if we didn't discuss the Victoria Secret's fashion show. The first episode was released on August 1st, 1995 during prime time so around 8 pm PST / 10 pm EST. Here is the hypothetical chart (placidus) of the Victoria's Secret Fashion show. I have never in my life seen so many retrogrades before, YIKES! The show has a lot of karmic debt and with the amount of scandals the company had, I'm not even surprised. Saturn in the 1st house, so there is a strict beauty standard that the show wants to uphold and dislikes when someone else tries to break the mold. I watched the Victoria Secret documentary and this is what was said as well. The women who worked there tried to bring more inclusivity to the company and the men acted very pompous and stubborn whenever they tried to create positive changes. They wanted to get away with their cookie cutter looks and corrupted desires. North node being at 0° the fashion show was supposed to embrace change and throughout the years resisted it's main intention or purpose of making women feel sexy. Now that they are trying to rebrand, they'd really have to really get over their ego in order to succeed. The exact date and time of the upcoming fashion show is unsure but it will be aired sometime in the fall. With the Victoria Secret's Fashion Show Sun sign being in Leo, then that means the episode will air right after it's solar return (I'm noticing a pattern here of companies releasing projects after it's solar return👀). Things seem to be going in the show's favor and it will be fair or more inclusive as they said it would be. There is a 7th house stellium here and a Moon in the 1st house so it seems as though they want to come off as genuine as possible. Saturn still remains in the 1st house, so there is still some stern energy here, maybe the rules for the models is strict or there is some sort of tight schedule for the show? Jupiter in the 3rd house, people will be talking about it or there's going to be articles/podcasts about the show. Pluto square South Node, the company's past scandals will still linger in the air. Uranus trine Chiron, someone in PR could write formal apologies to the staff? Saturn square Jupiter, Saturn is not done with them yet. It's literally grabbing them by the throat and saying "repent for your sins". It's not great, but not terrible either, but I'm leaning towards the fashion show will do just fine. The women will be exceptionally beautiful and the style of the clothes is gonna be different. It could take some time for people to be on board again with the show airing due to past controversies. Some will enjoy it for nostalgia, while others will not care to watch because it's not their thing or won't watch out of support for the victims.

The Tour '23's birth chart (whole sign)

The show having its Aquarius Moon in the 12th house 24° is very significant in my opinion given the fact it displays the hidden nature of women and the different aspects of the divine feminine. I watched it today and there was a lot of focus on motherhood, feeling unique or out of place in the world (a lot of people saying they felt like an alien), and having different body types, attributes, or features being seen. With an Aries chiron and north node, I feel their way of approaching things was more blunt and why they were more comfortable exhibiting/talking about scars, stretch marks, protesting, and (tw:) eating disorders. Another interesting aspect I noticed was mostly the narrator Gigi Hadid and the show has a Virgo Mercury in the 7th house 16°. Quite a few of the women narrating were mothers themselves, such as Gigi Hadid. Gigi has her Mercury in the 1st house and she has a Taurus stellium. The 7th house is connected to Venus and it is known for beauty, femininity, and love. There was also 5 segments all around the world but the show made its debut in Lagos, Nigeria. The Pisces ascendant I believe explains the fluidity and ability to transform or adapt to your environment. As well as being sensitive, free spirited, and having spiritual consciousness, for example, there was the use of Yoruba and Igbo mythology in the fashion show. The Victoria's Secret Fashion Show originally had a Leo stellium and it was more superficial, a lot of hyper focus on glitz and glam. Where as now there is a Pisces stellium and still has a familiarity of signs from its original birth chart (the essence of Libra, Taurus, and Leo still being there). The Capricorn Pluto in the 11th house 27° acknowledges what they have done in the past and their problematic behavior. With 27° being a Gemini degree, its as if the company is wanting to say to the generation: "Let's talk about it". The fashion designers in the documentary all discussed the importance of self expression and their hardships to get there. Doja Cat being the main performer of the series isn't surprising given the fact she is also a Libra Sun. Similar to the show, Doja and Victoria's Secret, are both known for being quite controversial (perfect pair, don't you think?). With The Tour 23's Sun being in the 8th house, it feels that it is the death of their ego. A new chapter for the company, while still keeping some parts of itself and it's past. Neptune and Saturn being in the 1st house explains why everyone was so vulnerable about their journey, insecurities, and dealing with self criticism. With its ascendant being a leo degree (5°) I believe it will gain some traction or buzz because of the individualistic style and fresh new faces / designers, but it won't be anything that will people talk about long term.

#astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #placidus astrology #barbie #barbie movie #margot robbie #victoria's secret #victoria's sceret angels #victoria's secet model #Victoria secret: the tour '23 #2000s #y2k

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queers-gambit · 2 years

Text

Sands of Time

prompt: before his Bronzed Bitch, all he had was her. amongst the smoke of salt, sea, and war, Daemon gambles with more than he ever wanted.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.4k+

note: GRRM was right, ugh, this bad boy does something to me. here's to me having a thing for rouge men being simps for their ladies! this is a stand alone, and not part of a series (yet).

warnings: i think there's cursing, mild suggestive situations, mild canon-typical violence. mhm, Daemon's gotta rescue his lady-love from the Crabfeeder - yikes. mild angst 'cause open-ended ending. OC!Daemon 'cause he's a total simp! idk what else i missed.

part two: The Battle Above the God's Eye

"And who will tell him what has become of her?" Corlys Velaryon demanded of his war council, fearing for the Prince's temper regarding their newest intel after witnessing him beat a man to death only moments prior.

The men returning from the latest battle were bloodied and worn out, but there was a notable absence in the form of one of Velaryon's top generals. The very same general who had come on the back of Caraxes, the Prince's dragon, armed to the teeth and ready to jump head first into battle; leading many men to death, but more to victory.

Her fierce determination had pushed her along the ranks, and now, her presence was desperately required at their war strategy council. Laenor Velaryon had given his battle plan, something akin to heartbreak zinging through his blood as the Lady was a staple in their camp. He feared to admit he missed her, and developed a plan with her in mind - hoping beyond hope someone could rescue her in time.

In response to his father's question, the young heir lifted his head, declaring, "I will."

"No," Lord Corlys snapped, knowing far too much of the Prince's temper and brutality; and if he learned of this atrocity, his son would be the brunt end of it all. "Not you - "

"If not me, anyone else would be fed to Caraxes for lying," Laenor pointed out. "Yes, it will be me, Father. He will believe me about her."

Before any reply could be given, Daemon had returned from his tent; storming towards them with an unreadable expression. His brother, King Viserys, had sent word of his reinforcements and Daemon had not only beaten the messenger for carrying the scroll containing words that set his blood boil, but then stormed off to prepare for what was hoped to be the final stand.

When his woman was not found in his tent, he turned back for answers. Laenor met him halfway, "My Prince - a word?"

"Where is she?" Daemon demanded through a clenched jaw and grit teeth, fists forming into a white-knuckle grip.

"Listen - "

"Where. Is she?" He repeated, showing his patience wearing thin. Caraxes growled and loomed over them all, his eyes set on the Velaryon heir as if to detect dishonesty.

"Prince Daemon," Laenor swallowed, sighing in defeat, "she's been lost to the Crabfeeder." Daemon blinked once, trying to find the lie; yet the young lad only held sincerity and heartbreak to his words. "I am sorry - "

"Where?"

When Laenor told him where they had been informed of her fall, the Prince's eyes steeled with emotion, "Bloodstone, Prince. Look, I know you want to rescue her, but there is a war - "

"I am well aware, and yet I will remind you that we would not be nearly as far along as we currently are without her," Daemon snapped, turning away from the boy as if to turn away from reality. He sighed deeply, "She will be staked along the shore... The tide will come in..."

"We've only 6 hours before she's drowning, Daemon," Laenor nodded. "If we pull this off, there might be time yet."

He heaved a breath inward, muttering, "She will not be left behind."

"I agree."

"Good," Daemon nodded, eyes casting down, "for I fear we are the only ones who would do anything to ensure her safety. I know she is dear to you," his lilac gaze lifted to meet that of his distant cousin's. "Which means we will make quick work of this," he nodded firmly, "have your father ready his men and move into position along the straights. I will row alone and offer surrender, bait them from their caves. You will not attack until their army is out in full."

"How will you - "

"I will offer my sword," Daemon lifted his chin, petting over the legendary Valyrian Steel sword at his hip. "He will not pass that up."

"No, Prince, I would think not," Laenor agreed. "I will have your boat prepared, you cast off when you're ready."

"Make haste, then," Daemon decided, turning to stalk into his tent once more with renewed vigor. He stripped of his armor, didn't bother cleaning himself, but paused to braid his hair again; wishing it was her hands caressing his scalp.

Laenor had the long boat prepared and helped cast the Prince off towards the Bloodstone Island, whose mind was ringing with words of his brother's note, and the last moments he had with her.

Night had fallen, and the men fell with exhaustion. His breath was ragged, tears brimming his eyes - but would never fall - after returning to their tent following a late night strategy session. She had been unusually quiet that night, and Daemon was growing restless.

"They want me to send for the King," he grumbled to himself, pacing angrily. She was setting aside her own weapons and padding, hoping to lay down for a few hours - even if Daemon wanted to pace himself into a hole. "To ask for Royal aid - despite having the Crown's Navy all but here. More, they want."

"Hush for now, please, Gods, I just endured hours of this speech," she sighed, hands catching his arms to pause him and pull his belted scabbard from his hips. She set it with purpose beside their bed, showing him where it would remain. "You're thinking far too much, Daemon."

"It's been - "

"Fuckin' years, yeah, I know," she interrupted him, being the only person ever known to do so. "We've been fighting the same fight, but I can't help but wonder why. What's your goal here, Daemon? Hey? Your goal, not the Army's - not the Navy's. Not the Velaryon's. You, and your goal for this war, my Prince."

His head shook, "I fear I might not know anymore."

"Then do not send for aid," she shrugged, "for this is your war, not your brother's, and if there is going to be any Targaryen victorious in this, it will be you, my sweet Prince."

"You speak with such conviction."

"Perhaps it is only faith that I have," she shrugged with a small smirk. "It has served me well, and I would continue to see us succeed." Pausing a moment, she stepped closer to him after his armor was shed; allowing her hands to raise and hold the sides of his neck, another rare move for anyone else, "Daemon, Lord Corlys came to you for a reason, and Viserys knows that. Let him sit safely on his throne, away from it all, as you prove why Targaryens are written about in the history books. What will he be remembered for, hmm?" She smirked up at him, Daemon loosening up and tugging her in tighter, eyes tender. "The King whose arse went numb from sitting so long. And you, my Prince? You will be the brother who passes into legend when your time comes."

"You know how to flatter a man," he breathed.

"How easy to compliment the man that even his King brother is jealous of," she replied smoothly, letting his lips descend heavily onto her own; backing her up to their bed.

Her back crashed to the material as he followed over top of her, legs spread to hold his hips against hers; lips fighting for dominance before Daemon easily won - like usual. "You will be the death of me, my dove," he breathed when he pulled back, lips fluttering over hers, "and how heavenly it would be to meet my end this way."

"Not tonight, Prince," she smirked, licking into his mouth with a slow moan. "Tonight, you'll live - and love. Tomorrow tells a new tale, but tonight is in the stars - and they speak of us, my love."

"Fuck," he breathed in her ear, nudging her jaw to allow access to her bruising neck. "When this is over, you'll be mine - I swear it."

Her head shook, "You are Prince, you cannot marry me."

"You dare doubt me," he snipped, lifting his head to stare down at her.

Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, biting her lip, "Never, Daemon, but you know your brother would not allow it. You would be mine, and only mine, when the time is right."

He sighed, "Your Lord of Light tell you that?"

"Perhaps," she smirked, reaching to bring him closer again, "or maybe I want to be the only one in your life - no mistresses, or other wives that would steal you from me."

His hips ground into hers; bulge humping into her and forcing them both to breathe unevenly, "I will be yours, I am always yours." The promise was followed by another roll of his hips and a hand latching under her jaw, pressing just enough to make her moan. "Marriage is political, my darling, but I swear to you, that one day... One day I will only be yours, and we will marry for love."

She laughed lightly against his lips, "We must survive first."

"We are alive tonight," he growled, teeth gnashing against the sensitive skin of her neck, "and that's enough for me."

She moaned into his mouth when her tongue hooked around his; hips lifting to roll on their own accord, and hands tangling in blood and mud splattered hair.

The same hair he had braided alone today.

His anger caused his arms to pump faster, rowing towards the still-smoking Bloodstone Island; the dead littering the shoreline and beyond. His gut lurched when he saw the captive lined up in the surf; waters lapping at their feet and ankles. He wouldn't have much time left before she was drowning, if she was even alive - and judging by the stare of the soldiers he saw as he hopped out of the long boat, he prayed she was at least in one piece.

"Daemon?" A voice cracked to his right, tearful, lilac eyes turning to see her bloodied, bruised, beaten, and restrained to a stake in the sand. Her eyes scanned over him before smirking, "Give 'em hell fer me," her voice was slurring and he knew someone was watching his every move.

"I will be right back for you, darling," he promised, trying not to move his lips. "Stay awake for me."

"Mhm," he heard her mumble, head lulling against the wooden stake as Daemon had to swallow his tangible, physical worry to storm inland for the caves.

Sniffling the emotion down, Daemon found a frayed sail and tore it from the trapped wood. After tying it to a piece of drift wood, he rose the universal sign of surrender above his head and mounted the dune of sand that would face the caves.

His blood boiled when he caught sight of the Crabfeeder; knowing he and his minions were responsible for the state his lover is in. Yet, he restrained himself out of sheer need to end this war and save her life - and right now, keeping everything as close 'to the plan' as possible was crucial.

Daemon waved the flag in figure 8's, tempting his surrender.

He drove the wood into the sand, freeing his hands for offering.

He pulled Dark Sister from the belt on his waist, making a show of dropping the sheath from both his hands as the sword was held up; a sign of his skill as warrior, being bested.

From the center of the battlefield, Daemon watched the Crab give some signal that encouraged at least 10 men from various caves. As they neared him, he took a knee - a final show of his surrender - and waited for one of them. His eyes darted around to take note of where the other men halted themselves, a plan almost lining itself out in his mind.

Archers from above lined the cliffside.

The Crab checked the skies for any sign of a dragon - finding none. He felt the surrender was true, and the Targaryen ruse was working.

Three men climbed the hill; one approached Dameon, the other two standing post. His eyes shut and hands offered his beloved sword, almost as if he couldn't bare to watch his own actions; and when the soldier turned to regard his companions, Daemon took his lunge.

Dagger yanked from his belt, he stabbed and slashed the man before him in order to regain control of Dark Sister - before setting out at an unstoppable, anger-fueled bolt towards the other soldiers.

In the future, she would ask him again and again to tell the story of how he took the beach almost by himself - but for now, he was purely running on adrenaline as the tides were soaking into her hips. Daemon ran faster than he's ever run, and only when two arrows struck his chest and one more to his calf did he go down, and require shelter.

Delirious with pain, Daemon wriggled for a moment as his mind flooded with images of the woman laid in the surf. He heard the rest of their Army and even Laenor's dragon taking out the archers, but he knew this couldn't be over until he ended it.

Her words rang in his head - about passing into legend... And Daemon was leaping to his feet, sprinting for the caves as the rest of the armies were distracted and engaged with each other. Daemon had a clear shot for the Crab, and while he was a fierce competitor, nobody could stand against the Rogue Prince when his woman had been put in jeopardy.

Killing any who sheltered the Crabfeeder, Daemon snarled as he swung his sword and literally cleaved the man in half. Taking hold of his wrist, Daemon drug the corpse's top-half out of the cave; blood soaked as the day he came into this world, and standing on a dune to prove the war had finally come to an end.

Only, Daemon dropped the corpse, and turned to race back towards the shore; the tide fully in, and lapping crabs and ocean water up the prisoner's bodies.

She was struggling to keep her nose above water, but it was becoming futile. She gasped and coughed, losing consciousness, when he dropped to his knees.

"Daemon," she gargled, his body turning to straddle her and attempt to block the ferocity of the waves crashing over them.

"I'm here, I'm here, my dove, I've got you," he panted, dagger used to slice the ropes tightened around her wrists; instantly dropping his arms to curl under her own and pull her up some - just as another wave rolled in. She gasped in pain, trying to cling to him, but mostly crying in pain from the tenderness of her arms.

"I-I thought - I thought I was a goner," she choked into his neck, letting him support her full weight as she was grateful to be above water. "D-Did anyone e-else survive?"

"I do not know, nor do I care," he rushed, caressing the back of her head. "I cared only for you - "

"There could be survivors, Daemon - "

"Not anymore," he muttered softly, pulling her into his arms as he got to his feet. "You are safe, and that's all that matters."

"Daemon," she begged, tears collecting in her eyes.

"Sh, do not worry over this - not now," he spoke quickly, "we've got to get you out of here."

"I don't think - "

"Do not - "

The two were cut off when the ground trembled, Laenor landing his dragon before them. "Get on!" He called, and the Prince wasted no time in clinging to his woman to pass her up; following swiftly, and holding her tightly as Laenor directed them to the Driftmark.

On the way, he told the bloody Prince of the battle, assuring they won this battle, and due to Daemon, the war. He barely reacted, carefully shifting the woman in his arms as he was more worried over her than anything - even feeling elated at the end of the war.

No, he could feel nothing but sorrow and worry.

When they landed, Laenor took them straight to the infirmary, and the once mighty general was taken straight away. Daemon was tended to, but only with great difficulty and convincing. The three days it took for medics and Maesters to work on her, Daemon didn't move from pacing in front of her door after being released from their care. He did not eat, he did not sleep, he did not visit Caraxes; he waited. Impatiently.

Laenor was there second to most, wondering what was happening, but neither receiving an update. His mother forced him to bed, but nobody could make Prince Daemon abandon his post; so, they brought him a chair, blankets, and meals. Though, he seldom ate.

"Prince Daemon?" One of the Maesters called, opening her chamber door. "She is asking for you..."

Daemon stood from his wooden chair so fast, it toppled over, and he shot into the room; all but pushing the Maester from his way. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer being answered, his eyes bulging almost out of his skull as he took note of the bloodied rags left around.

"Worry not for that," the Maester assured softly, "we are still cleaning. She faired well, Prince."

"Yeah?" He breathed.

"She will recover," the Maester clapped Daemon's shoulder. "We will leave you..."

After ushering the other Septas from the room, Daemon slowly approached the bed; where her bright eyes were watching him with a softness. "You're here," she whispered, his hand sliding in hers.

"I did not leave," he assured, kneeling at her side; lips pressing relieved kisses to her skin. "I was too worried."

"So the Maesters told me," she teased lightly, grimacing lightly when her chuckle was cut short.

"Rest, my love," he whispered with a deep frown.

"Daemon," she shook her head. "You cannot linger here."

"You are not well - "

"When I am, I will return to Essos," she whispered.

"You have not lived there in ages," he argued, stare hardening. "Since you were a child of only eight!"

"I know," she nodded. "But I do not belong in the political battlefield of Westeros... I love you," she promised, hand to his jaw and cheek, "but I cannot remain here."

"I will marry you - "

"Not with you still in court," she smiled sadly. "It's where you belong, my Prince, and I... I cannot remain. When I am able, the Master of Tides will grant me a ship so I might go where I need."

"And you need away from me, is it?" Daemon shook his head, refusing to accept this fate.

"I would happily spend my life with you," she smiled, hand to his cheek fully, "but as your only wife, not the second wife."

"I'd kill her for us," he swore, taking her hand from his face in fierce seriousness. "You know I would, my darling girl."

"And then what? You, Prince Daemon, would marry a common nobody?" She smiled sadly, "Someone with no title, nor family, nor lands? No, my love, you could not; for you would be expected to make other alliances, and I offer you nothing."

"You've offered me life, sweet girl," he shook his head. "Do not make me beg. I would have you for our lives, wherever that might be."

"I would never make you beg, sweet Prince," she teased. "But you know you could not offer me the life you want to with all that is going on." Her hand reached up to rake through his hair, "You will return to your place in court, my Prince. And you will live another two lives before we meet again..."

His head shook with confusion, "You mean to leave me so soon? This is our final moment, is it?"

"No," she confessed, "for I am not able to travel."

"I would not leave you until then," he nodded.

"No," her eyes filled with tears, finer tips stroking the skin of his face, "you will return, and leave me here. I will be gone soon after."

This time, Daemon shook his head, "No. I would not leave you."

"You have to, Daemon, for you have to be the one to walk away," she swore. "We will meet again, but we must live apart from each other. You will come to see, I promise you - "

"You think you can cast your flames, and speak the truth?" He demanded. "You think - "

"I do not think, I know what I've seen," she begged him to understand. "And believe me, if we do not part now - if you do not leave now - then our destinies will change. That cannot happen," she reached for him again, "for our future now is bright, and full of possibilities. We will suffer greatly while apart, but for our future, we must endure almost too much now."

His eyes filled with tears that slowly fell down his still-dirty cheeks, "I cannot leave you now. Even you do not know the future - "

"The Lord has shown me, Daemon, please, trust me now," she whispered, pulling his forehead to her own. Her wrists and forearms were bandaged after being shaved of infection, and her neck, torso, and ankle bore more gauze. Her bedding was stained with blood, and it was evident that the moment she was conscious, she sent for him. "Do you love me?" She wondered, gently petting over his lips with her calloused fingertips.

War took anything 'dainty' about her and spat it out again. Gnarled skin, mangled scars, and burns that should have never appeared sat over once smooth plains of flesh.

Her words rattled his soul, and he was confessing as if at an alter, "More than anyone. That, I am sure of."

She nodded, speaking against his lips, "Because our flames are one, Daemon."

"Then do not leave. Come to court with me, as my wife - "

Her fingers gently pressed to his lips again, halting his rambling. "You are returning as more than Prince Daemon now... You cannot arrive with me, there is more at hand. Please understand that this is not what I wanted for us, but what must be. Think of it, my Prince," she smiled, "you were my first friend in Westeros, this strange, strange country that you showed me how to love. I cannot thank you enough, my Prince, for showing me there was always more to life. And for loving me the past decade - "

"Or more," he teased lightly, hands tight to keep her close - almost forgetting her injuries. "You are certain? We will meet again?"

"It will feel as if I am wrong," she nodded, "but I swear to you, I will find you again, Daemon. If you leave me now," tears and emotion flooded her, making him try to pull her closer still; her body on the very edge of the bed, "then I swear to be the one who finds you again."

He was used to getting his way, but the War of the Stepstones had claim much in the years it waged and left all participants unsatisfied. He grew frustrated that she would become just one more thing stolen from him. "If I agree... Would you grant me just a little more time with you now?" She found nothing but fear in his eyes, hand caressing his jaw. "I thought I lost you, for three days, I did not know what was happening..."

"Please stay," she nodded, sniffling her tears down. "For only three days more, Daemon. There's more in motion than I can explain."

He sighed, "It's odd, isn't it?"

"Hmm?"

"Since you were eight, and I was ten, we have been inseparable. Now, we must part ways?"

Her nose swiped up his, nuzzling closer, "Do you remember when we found out you were to be married?"

Daemon sighed, a small groan escaping him. "Why remind me?"

"Because it was the first time you told me you love me," she purred.

He sighed, letting her pet over his still-stained hair.

The sixteen-year-old Prince escorted his then fourteen-year-old friend through the Royal Gardens, enraptured by one of her many history books that she was fascinated by; balanced on his arm. She did not live within the palace itself, yet, knew it better than some due to the time Daemon invited her around as his personal guest.

He found he enjoyed her company far too much; the young woman was something akin to a firework they sold on boats from Volantis, and created excitement within his heart, mind, and soul. So, when a guard came storming into the courtyard as if a dragon were at his heels, it confused the Prince why he was being summoned during one of his 'tutoring sessions'.

"Go," she encouraged lightly.

"I'll find you right after," he promised, squeezing her hand and turning to take his leave. "Maybe you could... Hang around?"

Truth was, there were a few rafters under construction; providing a decent hiding place to the throne room. He winked as she smirked, waiting until the courtyard cleared before moving in another direction. She went down different halls and secret staircases, leading up and up and up and up, and over, and up, and up, until she was laying on her stomach, looking down to the throne room.

The echo of the room made Daemon's grandmother's words - the Queen's words - to ring loud and clear, proclaiming that Daemon would take a wife, and that would be the end of it. There would be nothing else. There would be no discussion, only an instruction of obligation, and as if to add insult to the wound, he was being 'sold off' to the Royce's - a lesser house that offered nothing to the crown.

She hung there, shock making her blood sing with adrenaline and anxiety as Daemon tried to protest, but was overruled. In a fortnight, he'd be married off to Rhea Royce, a young lady who she thought was pretty enough, but wondered why the Crown would make such a match...

"Might that be it?" Daemon grit, hands dutifully behind his back. He'd been knighted only a week ago, and apparently, with a knighthood, came a wife.

"Your friend is also not to be seen in the castle walls again," the Queen demanded, looking almost...smug about her words, and how devastation colored Daemon's face clearly.

"She has done no wrong!"

"It's is final, Prince Daemon," she sneered.

"The Lady has done no wrong, Your Grace, and your King Husband has given her permission to learn in our walls," Daemon defended. "She will remain for her education, and I assure you, for no other reason. She is a Lady - in all but official title."

"Then be gone," the Queen waved, and she sprung to her feet; the movement sending a light flurry of dust to fall from the ceiling, catching Daemon's attention. He turned and stalked from the throne room, going the long way, in case any servants followed him, until he reached their secret meeting spot.

Daemon liked pushing envelopes, and the two often would crouch in the hollowed dragon skulls decorating the bowels of the Red Keep. Vast candles decorated the walls, and there, in the fire light, she stood - waiting for him - with matching emotion in her eyes.

They reached for one another the moment they were close enough.

"They cannot force me," he spoke rapidly, taking her in his arms like a man taking hold of water after wondering the desert for days and nights. "They cannot force me to marry her, I won't do it - "

"Your Queen has spoken, Daemon," she whispered meekly, trying to smile; hands flat to the front of his bicep, fingers splaying up to his shoulders. "And what an honor she's bestowed, you should be grateful for such a match."

"No, I will not be grateful for this is not an honor, but a horror," he shook his head, cradling her face in his hands. "Just come away with me now, we can leave on Caraxes - "

"And go where, Prince?"

"I don't know - "

"Exactly," she shook her head, pressed against his chest. "Your name holds no weight in the world apart from here, in Westeros. We wouldn't get far, my Prince, but you should be grateful that your future Lady-wife will make a fair bride."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend this does not affect you, too," he shook his head at her. She sighed gently, making him blurt, "Tell me you don't love me, too, and I'll marry the bitch gladly. But if you can't - "

"You would never be so stupid as to sacrifice duty, service, and honor for a girl," she snapped. "Do not put that on me, Daemon," she begged, panting as the situation settled on her soul. "But you need to know, that I love you, too. And it pains me to know you're to marry someone not me."

"Then tell me not to."

"I cannot," she sniffled, holding his hands over her cheeks. "If I ask, you would do it, and you have a duty to uphold... I am simply in the way - "

"You will never be in my way, for you are always at my side," he rushed, pressing their foreheads together in a sign of love that would come to pass many times between them through the years. "Do not part from me, we can work this out - "

"I will not be a mistress," she refused.

"No," he agreed. "You are my heart, and you will have more honor than that."

"For now, I am just a student," she whispered fore lonely.

"For now," he agreed, lifting his lips to her forehead, "because you and I are going to figure this out, my Lady love, I swear to you."

She giggled lightly, "Lady love?"

"Too much?"

She hummed, "Just right, my Prince."

Young Daemon smiled down at her, leaning in to press his lips to hers in a heated exchange of passion; hands smoothing over her hair as her own pushed into his silver locks.

"You need to wash the blood out," she whispered, hands sticky from the blood soaked in his hair.

"In a moment," he promised. "I need this for now, if I am to lose it."

"Not forever, my Prince," she whispered, letting his lips press to hers after. "The war is won, but there is something more brewing - "

"And you want us to part ways? Be far from me, where I cannot protect you?" He huffed, bowing his head to rest on her lap as she sighed and leaned back. Hands going to his tangled mane, she assured,

"I don't want this, my Prince. But it must come to pass. Besides, I do not often require saving, this past time being a mild exception."

Daemon sighed into her lap. "I know... I know, sweet girl, you are right, but I am going to miss you. You are here with me now, still under my hands, and I miss you."

Her hands thread through his long locks, gently picking at bloody clumps. Her voice quivered and the sands of time slowed to allow the couple a few moments more as she promised him, "I'll miss you, too, my love. But I will find you."

Three days later, Daemon, with shortly cropped hair hosting a crown of mangled driftwood to symbolize both his victory and loss in the Stepstones, where he won the war, but lost the girl, departed by himself on Caraxes' back. From the Drfitmark, back to King's Landing, Daemon flew alone - and forced himself to get used to the loneliness her absence created.

For years, despite the marriages he found himself bound in, he would dream of her face; smell her plaguing his nostrils; and phantom touches of fleeting flesh warming his own before he realizes he's woken up with the Lady Laena, or years later, his Lady niece-wife. He would wake with an ache in his heart, never telling his wives what weighed his soul down; never knowing when he'd see her again, but letting the desire drive him forward.

part two: The Battle Above the God's Eye

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