#THOROUGHLY MISSED.... no longer ''guy who squeaks''.... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Raincheck

Category: Angst, Drama, Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hitoshi Shinso, Ochako Uraraka

Hello everyone! This is my story for the @shinsoubigbang! When you get a chance, also check out my partner's artwork; they did an amazing job illustrating a scene from the story. :)

The wind tugged at Hitoshi’s lavender locks and whipped at the capture weapon around his neck as he perched on the edge of the rooftop. He hunched like a gargoyle as he carefully surveyed the sprawling mess of back alleys below his sneakers. Crime always festered in dark places, especially on cloudy, moonless nights like these. Hitoshi could almost hear the whispers of malcontent and mischief rising with the wisps of fog. His instincts were buzzing, tingling just beneath his skin, indicating that his hunt for criminals would soon bear fruit.

His lilac-hued eyes snapped to the side as the air suddenly rang with the rhythmic clacking of heels. A young woman in a waitress’ garb quickly strode down a cobblestoned back road. She clutched her purse tight to her chest and feverishly looked to her left and right. Despite her vigorous attempts, her caution did not avail her. Hitoshi watched a shadow slink out from behind a dumpster. A knife glinted in the dark as its blade caught the dull yellow light spilling from the nearby streetlamp. The shadowy figure crept up behind the unsuspecting woman, reaching for her brunette hair bunched in a bun—

and that’s when Hitoshi swung down in a dark fury, his capture weapon wrapping tightly around the man’s wrist. The woman screamed and stumbled into the wall as the hero wedged himself between her and her would-be assailant. The mugger cursed and tugged violently against his bindings, but he could not best the hard-earned muscles of Hitoshi’s arms, which flexed as he drew the capture weapon so tight that it ceased the man’s blood flow and forced his fingers apart. The knife clattered to the ground, useless, and the startled thief met Shinso’s cool, cold purple eyes.

“Someone taught you the wrong way to pick up women, mate,” Hitoshi tsked while wagging his finger scoldingly. The mugger’s face turned an ugly red-purple hue, and he vehemently resumed clawing and yanking at the capture weapon.

“You motherfucker! I’m gonna—” He wasn’t going to do anything, actually, which he realized when his jaw slackened and his eyes clouded over as Hitoshi’s Quirk washed over him.

“Do me a favor and stop struggling, will you?” Hitoshi tutted. The man obediently lowered his arm, standing still as a statue as Hitoshi loosened the bindings and looped them back around his neck. The hero returned his attention to the young woman, who was still pale-faced and hugging the dirty brick wall while staring at the mugger in horror.

“He… He won’t do anything?” she squeaked as Shinso abandoned him to walk over to her.

“Him?” he asked with a jab of his thumb. “Nah,” he reassured with a wily smirk. “He’s completely under the control of my Quirk. He won’t do anything I don’t put in his empty head. Now, miss, are you hurt?” Still gawking apprehensively at her attacker, she slowly shook her head. To Hitoshi’s relief, however, her rigid body slowly relaxed, and she turned to look at him.

“Thank you for saving me… I should have known better than to use this shortcut, but it’s my daughter’s birthday party and I wanted to hurry home after my shift since I couldn’t get off for her party…”

“I’m sorry you had to miss it,” Hitoshi said genuinely. “It’s dangerous around here, though. I’ll call in a police escort to get you home safely in addition to handing over this guy if you don’t mind waiting a little longer, okay?” Though she probably didn’t want to waste any more time, the near-catastrophe rattled her thoroughly enough to comply. Hitoshi walked out of the side street onto the sidewalk flanking the main road. After phoning the police, he paused to open a video message.

“Hey, ‘Toshi!” Ochako’s bubbly round face dominated the screen, cheeks rosy and brown eyes sparkling as she waved excitedly. “I just got back from my P.R. trip to America. You wouldn’t believe all the amazing things I saw! We should get together for lunch tomorrow so I can tell you all about it. I’m sure you’re on patrol right now and will be until morning,” she said, leaning back in the camera frame, and he could see that she was dressed in a pair of fluffy white pajamas printed with green aliens in spacesuits. It made him chuckle; she always had adored silly pajamas like that. “I’ve got a bit of jet lag so I’ll be awake for a while, so call me when you get off, okay? Bye-bye now!” she chirped while waving before the video cut off.

Hitoshi stared at the frozen image of Ochako’s big bright smile, a soft one forming on his own lips. After he’d joined Class A in U.A.’s Hero Course, he’d become fast friends with all of them. However, to everyone’s surprise including his own, he’d gravitated the most to Ochako. She was just so bubbly and bright, the perfect counterpart to his subdued and relaxed personality. He found her endless optimism and drive refreshing, so much so that they still kept up with one another even after graduation.

His big fat crush on her might have had a little to do with that, though.

Hitoshi waited impatiently for the police with the waitress. He asked her questions about her daughter, and though she eagerly embraced the small talk to ease her nerves, Hitoshi really just let her responses go in one ear and out the other. He was too busy mentally configuring his schedule, trying to figure out the soonest he could call Ochako. In the end his impatience got the best of him, as he ended up calling her number as the police officers were loading the suspect into the back of the squad car and the other was taking a report from his would-be victim.

“Wow, that was fast.”

Hitoshi smiled at her cheery voice buzzing on the other end of the line. He leaned against the hood of the patrol car and slid one of his hands into his pants pockets.

“I just happened to have a break,” he shrugged. “I wanted to call and see how you were settling in after your trip.”

“I’ve only been gone two weeks, but it still feels kind of weird to be back!” she giggled. He could envision her grabbing one of her fluffy pillows— probably the big sun plushie wearing sunshades— as she reclined against her headboard. “America was incredible! I can totally see how it was the birthplace of heroes. I can’t wait to tell you all about it, ‘Toshi.”

“Are you sure you can wait until tomorrow?” he joked. In the background, he could hear the police radio crackling about a carjacking and a high-speed chase through town. As the sirens began to wail and red-and-blue lights painted the dark night sky, Hitoshi straightened up and looked around with narrowed eyes. “Hey, Ochako, hold on a minute. I think—”

He never got time to finish the sentence.

Everything was a blur as the car came careening down the street, followed closely by a police cruiser. The air filled with squealing tires and burning rubber as the police car braked harshly, but the carjacker had no care to do so, instead opting to plow right through the two police cars parked in the middle of the road in his effort to get away. One of the police officers managed to tackle the waitress into the safety of the alleyway, while the other was bowled over by the criminal, who was attempting to use the chaos to escape, even though he was handcuffed.

Hitoshi was not so lucky. As the car zoomed past the cruiser, crunching the metal with a sickening sound, it glanced him. Even being glanced by a car going over one hundred miles an hour was enough to send Hitoshi flying back into the alleyway. His phone was slung from his hand as he crashed against the rough ground; he released a strangled gasp as he felt several of his bones snap. As he rolled down the alley, the back of his head smacked against the cobblestone. A white rush flooded through him from head to toe, filling his brain with cotton and his ears with a persistent ring. When he finally came to a rest on his back in a mangled mess of limbs, he was staring uncomprehendingly at the sky, blood leaking out of his lips.

Dimly, he could hear Ochako’s voice echoing through the alleyway. He’d somehow managed to turn the phone on speaker.

“‘Toshi? What happened? ‘Toshi? Hitoshi?!”

The sirens continued wailing. The blue-and-red lights flashed around him like the stars falling to earth. He could feel blood leaking out from the back of his head, coating his lavender hair in thick, sticky globs. The woman was screaming and crying, while the police officers were shouting into their radios for an ambulance. As the darkness encroached on the edges of Hitoshi’s vision, he hung onto Ochako’s frantically screeching voice like a lifeline.

He had to live. He had to live. He was going to meet her for lunch tomorrow…

~~~~~~~~~~

It began with a dull pounding ache. It thundered at the base of his skull, rising in intensity with each inch he crawled towards consciousness. The persistent pain made him want to drift back into the sweet embrace of sleep, but unfortunately the ache prevented it. He groaned lowly, lolling his head from side-to-side and hitting the hard plastic of the neck brace hugging his throat. His purple lashes fluttered open, and his eyes were greeted with bright, burning white.

He blinked slowly, uncomprehendingly, at the nondescript white tiles above him. He could hear a heart monitor blinking steadily beside him. He could feel a thin hospital gown rubbing against his bruised skin, the casts wrapping his right arm and leg to immobilize them, and the bandage covering his swollen right eye. He was in a hospital, clearly, but what had landed him there in such a deplorable state?

As he tried to remember, there was nothing. Emptiness. A blank slate.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mild panic. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t summon up memories about much of anything. He knew his name— Hitoshi Shinso— but that was it. As he shifted on the bed, breath hitching and his heart rate jumping on the monitor, it alerted the nurses outside.

“He’s awake!” a nurse called as she bustled in through the doorway. “Hey, hey, it’s all right. You’re safe, in the hospital,” she cooed as she leaned over his bedside. Hitoshi looked at her with wild eyes. “What’s the matter, hun? Are you in pain? Do you need medication?”

“Don’t remember,” he grumbled.

“What, honey?”

“I don’t remember anything…”

The nurse gasped and straightened up, hand flying to her mouth. She looked nervously at the other nurses crowding the door. As they began to murmur worriedly to one another, the doctor strode in, frowning over Hitoshi’s chart.

“Doctor, he says he doesn’t remember anything,” the nurse reported in a quiet voice. The professional looked at her before walking to Hitoshi’s side. Hitoshi squirmed uncomfortably under his stern, inquisitive stare.

“Son, do you know your name?”

“Hitoshi Shinso.”

“Do you know how you got here?”

Hitoshi shook his head as much as the neck brace would allow. “Can you remember anything from the last week?” Another shake of his head. “Last month?” Again, he shook his head. “What do you remember?”

Hitoshi squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to summon something, anything, from the recesses of his mind. A few snippets floated up in the sea of emptiness, which served to ease him just a little. “I’m a hero… I graduated from U.A. High School… But I don’t remember going there. I just know I did.”

“Well,” the doctor sighed as he straightened up, tapping the pages of his chart, “you suffered a basilar skull fracture and an epidural hematoma. We had to puncture your skull to relieve the pressure on your brain, but you still developed a very severe concussion. It seems the head trauma has induced amnesia.”

Hitoshi’s heart rate skyrocketed, causing the monitor to wail shrilly.

“Will I get my memory back?”

“Most likely. It may take some time, however, with an injury like yours. Some of your classmates are here; they’ve been waiting for you to recover from surgery. I can bring them in if you would like. Their presence may help to jump-start the process.”

Hitoshi nodded robotically, still trying to process the great hole that had suddenly developed in his life. Time seemed to blend together, because the next thing he knew, a green-haired young man was inching into the room with a shaky smile. The doctor probably informed his supposed friends of his amnesia because the freckled boy treaded lightly and carefully— like he was afraid Hitoshi would shatter with one wrong word.

“Hey, ‘Toshi,” the boy smiled as he pulled up a chair to his bedside. Hitoshi squinted at him. There was something familiar about that quivering smile, nervous twitching, and bright emerald eyes, but that was all. “I’m glad to see it’s okay… It’s me, Deku— er, Izuku Midoriya! Not that you would know that, I guess, considering the amnesia and all… We went to school together, y’know?”

Hitoshi swallowed, but his mouth was dry so it made it a little difficult.

“I see,” was all the lavender-haired boy said. At this time, a blond-haired skinny boy with a lightning-shaped streak of black in his bangs bustled in, red-faced and looking like he’d run all the way there.

“Holy crap, is it true, Deku?” the boy panted, rushing up to grip the back of his chair. Izuku pouted over his shoulder at him.

“Yeah, Denki… He doesn’t remember anything…”

“Oh, man,” Denki said while nervously running his hand through his hair. “Ochako’s gonna be devastated…”

Hitoshi perked up at the name. As soon as it passed Denki’s lips, it sent a jolt of recognition through him. Oddly, aliens and stars and the color pink suddenly came to mind. The two boys immediately noticed his reaction and exchanged hopeful glances.

“Do you recognize that name?” Izuku asked hopefully.

“I think so…” Hitoshi said quietly, fisting the scratchy white hospital blanket. “Ochako…” The name seemed to roll off his tongue so perfectly, and it sent a bubbly, happy feeling rising up inside of him.

“That’s great! She was so worried about you, Hitoshi! It took her forever to get answers out of the first responders, and then she had to handle calling all of us, and then she was really upset when they wouldn’t let her see you because you were in surgery, so she’s been a mess all night—” Izuku babbled, but Hitoshi ignored it as he tried to process the way his heart was fluttering at the hazy image of a sweet round-faced brunette trying to surface in the void of his mind.

“I think… I think I was in love with her.”

Izuku stopped mid-sentence, emerald eyes blowing wide. Denki had his hand over his mouth as Hitoshi looked at them in muddled confusion. “Were we dating?”

“Uh… no,” Denki coughed uncomfortably. Hitoshi’s frown deepened and he looked back down at the blanket. If that was the case, then why did just the mention of her name summon up a sense of deep fondness and happiness within him? “But, uh,” Denki continued, scratching at the side of his face, “we’ve all known you’ve had a crush on her for a long time— everyone but Ochako, that is.”

“Denki!” Izuku gasped scoldingly, whirling around in his chair.

“What?! The man’s got amnesia! I gotta help him out, right?” the blond argued defensively. Hitoshi was too busy blushing to listen to their quibbling. So, I do love her… But she doesn’t know. So, did I never tell her? Why not?

“‘Toshi? Where is he? ‘Toshi! Hitoshi!”

As she came barging in the room, tears streaming down her ruddy cheeks and brunette hair a mess, he immediately knew why. Even flustered and sobbing and disoriented from lack of sleep, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever clapped eyes on. Even with no memories, he knew that. She tripped over his IV cord in her effort to scramble to him, face-planting against the tile floor. He jolted up in bed, the heart rate monitor picking up the leap in his heartbeat, but she was so frantic that she immediately recovered and practically threw herself down on the bed beside him.

“I was so worried!” she sobbed, grabbing at the blankets as her tears rained down on his face and into his lavender hair. “We were— we were on the phone, and, and then, there was this big crash, and then the sirens, and— oh my God, ‘Toshi, you wouldn’t answer me, and no one would tell me anything, and I-I-I— oh, ‘Toshi, I’m so glad you’re alive!” she rambled through her tears before burying her face into his chest. Hitoshi grunted when pain flared across his body as his broken ribs crunched under the assault, but like hell he was going to say anything. Ochako wailed into him, drowning the thin cloth of the gown with tears and snot. As her body wracked and heaved, it jolted Hitoshi a little, but he gritted his teeth through the little stabs of pain.

When she’d calmed down enough, she quietly asked against his chest, “Is it true? You have amnesia?”

“Yes,” he admitted in a small breath. Ochako breathed in deeply, shakily. Then, she shot up, her teary brown eyes gleaming with determination.

“That’s okay! We can work through it!” Hitoshi’s heart fluttered at her use of “we.” She grabbed his hands and squeezed them tight, giving him a watery smile. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, ‘Toshi. We’re gonna get you better, okay?” she said softly and threaded her fingers through his lavender hair. Her fingers skimmed over the shaved patch in his head and the sutures from where they’d had to split his skull open, and she hiccuped as a fresh wave of tears streamed down her cheeks. “I-it’s gonna be okay.”

He wanted to tell her that of course it was, now that she was here. But words failed him, as he was too lost in the watery sea of her chocolate-brown eyes and the feeling that everything really was going to be okay. He remembered Ochako, and that was enough comfort to him to face all the trials ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was discharged from the hospital a week later. In addition to his head injuries, he’d sustained a broken arm and leg, three broken ribs, two fractured cervical vertebrae, and a myriad of scrapes and bruises. Because of the severity of his wounds and his amnesia, it was difficult for Hitoshi to manage by himself, so his friends took it upon themselves to care for him. Nothing humbles you like being unable to do even the most menial tasks, like put on clothes or bathe yourself. Hitoshi’s friends took it in stride, though, and always batted away his emotional expressions of gratitude. “It’s just what friends do,” they said.

It made Hitoshi wish he remembered their friendships. Maybe then it would make him feel less like a charity case.

Though his friends rotated shifts around their hero duties to help him throughout the day, Ochako always cooked dinner for him— without fail, every night. They would always insist on sharing the load, she stubbornly refused them. Toting in groceries, sometimes still in her hero uniform and beat up from the toil of the day, she’d grin determinedly.

“My mom always said that nothing helps you heal faster than a good meal. That’s how I can help!”

Hitoshi couldn’t find the words to tell her that her presence helped him heal more than food ever could. He’d sit in his wheelchair watching her cook, the way she turned up the radio and danced around the kitchen singing into the wooden spoon. Swinging her hips, she’d whirl around to serenade him with a goofy smile. Hitoshi never knew the words to the songs. He’d just grin back, charmed by her zest for life. It was so dazzling, so blinding, that even now he couldn’t find the courage to tell her how he felt. She was like the sun, so radiant and sublime that he felt like he couldn’t ever compete.

He should say something to her. Really, he should. But… the words just couldn’t come, just like his memories.

Three weeks in, Hitoshi’s memories had trickled in somewhat. Most of them were dredged up by old stories his friends told him, so there were still tons of gaps. Still, it made Hitoshi feel a little better; he no longer felt like he was trapped in a void and a stranger to himself. Looking back, it was a terribly scary and lonely feeling, for others to know more about you than you did. Though the doctor kept telling him to give it time, Hitoshi had already resolved himself to the fact that maybe he might not ever get them all back. His past would just be a jigsaw puzzle of little snatches of memory and secondhand information.

As much as he tried to convince himself that it was all right, he couldn’t. He hated the not knowing— the not knowing all that time he was in love with Ochako besides those feelings. He wanted all of it, every moment he’d ever had with her to treasure and savor. It was maddening, not having that, so Hitoshi decided to just make do with the new moments. Now, if he could just get over himself and ask her out.

“‘Toshi? Do you not like it?”

Ochako’s sweet voice dragged him out of his thoughts. He was reclined on the couch with a bowl of noodles growing cold in his hand, the fork still halfway raised to his lips. It had been a new recipe, Ochako had said. Hurriedly, he scooped the noodles into his mouth and gave her an approving hum.

“No, sorry. I was just lost in thought. It’s really good.”

Ochako smiled relievedly, melting into his armchair. She set her empty bowl of noodles on the coffee table, idly flipping through the television channels as Hitoshi finished off his food before it really did grow cold and unappetizing. Eventually, Ochako decided there was nothing worth watching and flipped off the television. She rose to get their dirty dishes, and Hitoshi watched her with lidded lilac eyes. How could every move a person made be pure magic? As she waltzed out the room into the kitchen, the fluidness of her body just amazed him.

Yet… something was wrong. He could tell. Her body was tense, the edges of her smile crinkled, her eyebrows just barely furrowed. She tried to pass it off with a smile to him as she walked back in, but Hitoshi wasn’t buying it. As she proposed renting a movie, he cut her off, gesturing for her to approach. Confused, she walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table beside him.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at Hitoshi’s brusque command. She shifted on the wood, pressing her hands between her thighs and rolling her bottom lip under her front teeth. Hitoshi waited patiently for the girl to gather her thoughts.

“I haven’t been sleeping,” she admitted finally. “I’m tired.” Now that she brought it up, he could see the dark lines ringing the undersides of her eyes and the way that her body sagged. He wordlessly ordered her to elaborate, making her cheeks flood darker. “I… Ever since the accident, I’ve had nightmares, ‘Toshi,” she said hoarsely. The tears sprung to her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks, making her try and wipe them away with the heels of her palms. “That was the worst night of my life, hearing those awful sounds and not knowing what was going on, and— it felt like forever before I could finally find you, and then they told me you were in surgery and you might not make it, and I just— oh, I can’t get it out of my head. That night is just on replay for me, over and over.

And the worst part is that it’s so selfish of me!” she wailed, leaning over and burying her face into her hands. “You were the one in the accident, not me! If anything, you should be the one who’s haunted by it and I have no right to complain, but I… but I… I feel trapped…” she moaned miserably. “If I hadn’t picked up the phone… Then maybe you wouldn’t have ended up like this…” she revealed in a harsh whisper.

“Oh, Ochako, no!” Hitoshi cried. In his effort to comfort her, he slid off the couch a little, making his brittle bones flare painfully in protest. He didn’t care. Clumsily, he gathered the crying girl into his arms and dragged her onto the couch with him. It was a tight fit, but she still curled into his side, crying into his shoulder as he hugged her tightly with his good arm. “God, Ochako, don’t blame yourself for what happened to me. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But… If I had done something different…” she protested weakly, shaking her head and smearing her tears across his shoulder. To snap her out of her spiral, he pinched her cheek and tugged hard. She shot up into a sitting position, looking at him with wide eyes and her teeth and tongue peeking out from underneath her stretched lips. “‘Toshi… Ow… Tha’ hursh...” she slurred in protest and blinked rapidly as the tears continued to prickle at her eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said sternly. “The accident was not your fault. It was just a freak thing, okay? If anything, it’s my fault for picking up the phone because I couldn’t wait until my patrol was over to call you.” As he spoke, the memories of that night and all the nights before came flooding back. As they rushed in like water, the flow of his words rose in tandem. “I was just so excited that you were back that I just had to hear your voice, right then, and I wasn’t paying attention to anything but you, and—”

He stopped short, cheeks flooding pink as he realized what exactly was tumbling out of his mouth. Ochako stared dumbly at him, a little drool leaking from the corner of her mouth as he was still stretching it. He stiffly released her, causing the skin to snap back. There were pink imprints in her skin where he’d pinched it; she slowly reached up to rub at it, blinking sluggishly.

Well. The cat was out of the bag now, so Hitoshi might as well let it go wild.

“Ochako… I don’t want you here every day because you feel responsible for what happened to me.” He smiled softly and reached up to cover her hand in his own, cupping her cheek. “I want you here because I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“You remembered?” she asked meekly. As a fresh wave of tears streamed from her eyes, Hitoshi’s smile widened, and he thumbed them away.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I never forgot, Ochako.”

She sucked in a breath, then let it out shakily. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed a few times, tearfully processing the situation. After a few minutes of just silently crying next to Hitoshi, her cheeks began to flood pink again.

“I… I would really like it if you kissed me right now,” she admitted bashfully. Hitoshi snorted with laughter, but hell, who was he to refuse? He gently moved his hand to the back of her head to pull her forward. Ochako melted into his touch, allowing him to maneuver her as he would to bring her face close. Her hands felt onto his chest, digging into the soft fabric of his tee-shirt. Hitoshi held her there for a moment, centimeters away, to admire the gorgeous view of her lidded brown eyes and flushed cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. Her blush darkened and she shyly bit down on her bottom lip. He chuckled as she wiggled in impatience but opted against teasing her more. He closed his eyes and the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a sweet but passionate kiss. Ochako hummed as his mouth smoothed over hers, so naturally like it had always belonged there. Hitoshi kissed her languidly, savoring the softness of her lips and the aftertaste of chicken broth that was oddly pleasurable. Nothing promotes healing like a good meal, he thought with a mischievous smirk. Ochako would probably explode from mortification if he told her that. She was so cute when she was flustered, though, that it might always be worth saying.

They kissed idly for quite a while, until their faces were flushed and they were a little out of breath. Ochako had draped herself over his chest and wormed her legs between his, careful not to jar his mending bones. She looped her arms around his neck to play with the ends of his fluffy lavender hair, chin propped on his chest so close that he could lean in and peck her lips every once in a while.

“What are you thinking?” she asked him after he’d been quiet for some time. A smile slowly spread across his lips.

“I was thinking…” he said, pausing to give her another soft, sweet kiss, “that we never had that lunch date, did we?”

A smile slowly spread across her face, lighting her up like the sun. Bright as it was, Hitoshi couldn’t tear his gaze away; he wouldn’t, even if it blinded him forever. He would be glad if it was the last thing he ever saw. Giggling, Ochako snuggled into him, fluttering her long brown lashes.

“No, we didn’t. You asked for one heck of a raincheck.”

Hitoshi scoffed, making her stick out her tongue mischievously at him. One heck of a raincheck, indeed. That was okay, though. Even sad moments were moments, too, and Hitoshi valued every moment with Ochako like the most priceless jewel on Earth. Though he’d like to collect every one he could, he thought as they cuddled and began to drowse, he wouldn’t mind stretching this one out a little. It marked the beginning of new memories, after all.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#shinchako #shinso x ochako #shinsou x ochako #shinso x uraraka #shinsou x uraraka #ochako x shinso #ochako x shinsou #uraraka x shinso #uraraka x shinsou #hitoshi shinso #hitoshi shinsou #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako #shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi #my hero academia #mha #boku no here academia #bnha

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years ago

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Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 4: Lost in a Forest and Feelings

On FF.net//On AO3

Trudging through the thick trees, staring at that broad, strong back, Azula couldn't quite keep at bay her suspicions that, regardless of her stubborn companion's claims of the opposite, they were lost in the woods, with no salvation in sight.

He wasn't a woodlands savage, she'd told him, he was a snow savage: she'd believe him if he said they weren't lost while they traversed a large, frozen continent, but she wouldn't quite be so lenient if he said the same while in a forest, of all places. And of course, there was no chance they'd find his missing sword in a large, frozen continent unless someone had already retrieved it from these woods and taken it there, for whatever reason.

Not for the first time, she asked herself why she had bothered coming along for what everyone, even her brother, had deemed a pointless, doomed enterprise. Guilty as she appeared to feel about the matter, Toph had been far too busy with her budding police department in Republic City to join Sokka's quest. Aang was ever ferried from one end of the world to the next by his Avatar duties, and Katara had to cover for him in the city while he was gone: Zuko, of course, was the Fire Lord, and there was no chance he'd take any sorts of flights of fancy and disregard his duty to his nation just on a personal trip that might yield no results… well, that is, if the trip was for a friend's sake rather than his own, Azula had interjected, and her reminder of how he had been perfectly willing to leave their nation in their uncle's most undependable hands while they searched for their mother had been as unwelcome as she could have expected.

All in all, she had meant to offer some moral support to the tall Water Tribe man by cutting down Zuko's excuses and dismissive attitude towards Sokka's plight… but nothing she said seemed to work. Sokka kept looking at her with those dead-like eyes that only convinced her that she wanted to be dead, too. She wondered, truly, if he was different while she wasn't around. If he was happier, cheerful, relaxed… rather than miserable, awkward and tense. If so… why had she even bothered coming along for this trip? Was it merely pity over how he'd sworn he'd go alone if no one wanted to give him a hand? If so, it was no true wonder he had been so aloof and irritated so far, for no man as proud as him would ever accept pity and charity without consequence.

Yet she had decided to come along indeed. And now, it seemed, she reaped what she had sowed, in more ways than she had expected to: it wasn't merely that she was uncomfortable about hiking through nature this far from civilization – she found herself missing the train-tank, with which she had traversed large territories of the Earth Kingdom in the past without the slightest inconvenience –, but Sokka wouldn't travel on the vehicle, not when their mission was explicitly about rummaging throughout Wulong Forest until they finally came across his beloved Space Sword.

Her strained muscles had seen plenty of exercise over the ten years that had passed since the end of the war, but not quite in this manner: she forced herself to walk behind him, keeping up with his pace as best she could, until at last that strong back, that at this point was nearly a beacon in the darkening forest, slowed to a halt as Sokka assessed his surroundings in a clearing within the woods. Azula damn near bumped into him, but she managed to stop right behind him anyway.

"Seems like a good place to camp for the night," he announced. "It's getting too dark to keep going anyhow."

"Just how much further are we supposed to go, anyway?" Azula asked, as Sokka approached the larger tree in the clearing, setting down his bags at its foot. "Have you narrowed down the searching area at all, or are we merely going blind all across Wulong Forest…?"

"I've narrowed some of it down, yeah," Sokka huffed, opening his pack to show her a map he had brought with him. "We'll search thoroughly throughout the area once we get there. But we're still too far north to be near Space Sword's location."

"Of course," Azula sighed, setting down her own bags next to his. "You do realize this might be a longer venture than you hoped?"

"Why would it be? Your brains and mine, together? Who's ever going to stop us, huh?" Sokka said, though there was no humor in his tone upon uttering those questions.

Azula tensed up beside him as he rose fully to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. What was he thinking? Why had he spoken as he had just now? Yes, it was a certainty that they were smarter than most people, and joining forces might just be enough for them to find his sword… but it didn't seem he was all that pleased for it anyway. She let herself wonder, briefly, if he wished they wouldn't find the sword all that fast so they could spend more time together… did he begrudge their intelligence for such a fickle reason?

Oh, what nonsense. Of course that wasn't it. She was a fool to so much as indulge in such a possibility.

"I think I see some water beyond these trees," Sokka said, gesturing at the cluster of vegetation behind the tree they had stopped at. "Could be we can wash up there. It's one of the reasons I thought we should slow down here for the night…"

"Ah. So, we truly aren't lost in this forest, are we?" Azula asked. Sokka tensed up. "You knew there was a river up there?"

"Uh… well, I didn't know, I just decided we'd stop at the first place with water we came across once it was sunset," he said. Azula huffed.

"So we are lost."

"I didn't say that!" he squeaked.

Despite herself, Azula smiled. Eliciting such silly reactions from him was strange, but very welcome. It almost felt as though she hadn't pushed him away when she had… as though things could go back to the way they once had been.

"Ugh, anyway, you can go clean up if you want, I know all that dirt and sweat must make you uncomfortable," Sokka said, waving a hand towards her. "I'll set up my tent in the meantime. If you need help with yours, I can give you a hand after I clean up too…"

"Why would I need help?" Azula said, raising her eyebrows dismissively. "I'm perfectly capable of assembling a tent by myself."

"I didn't say you weren't," Sokka raised his hands defensively before starting to rummage through his bag for the implements he'd need for his tent.

His tone was disappointingly non-confrontational. Just after giving her hope, he took it away: she had expected a whole throwdown about how there was nothing wrong with asking people for help, or how he was sure she was a pampered princess who had never had to do anything mundane for herself… but nothing. He had shut down yet another possible conversation, and she was left high and dry, waiting for nothing.

"If that's how it is, then… yes, I'll go clean up," Azula declared, attempting to hide how disappointing his response had been. "Make sure not to peek, alright?"

"Nothing new under the sun there, is there?" Sokka said. Azula froze. "You have nothing to worry about, I won't do that, I'll only go after you're finished. Ten minutes will probably be enough."

"You know just how long I spend bathing, then?" Azula nearly hissed by now. Sokka shrugged.

"I remember, is all," he said. "Ten minutes might even be too much in these circumstances, I'd say…"

"I'll take as long as I please, thank you very much," Azula scowled, searching her own bags for a change of clothes. Suddenly, the last thing she wanted was to hold a conversation despite having spent the whole day fishing for one.

"I'll go after I'm finished setting up my tent, then," Sokka said. "And if you're not out yet, don't worry. I'm not going to look anyway."

She snapped her tongue before storming off without another word. Well, that was his loss, if so.

The words rang hollow in her mind as she walked thoughtlessly towards the water source… a lake, not a river, as she discovered upon reaching it. She wasted little time disrobing, despite she was far from accustomed to loosening her clothing in the middle of nature as she just had. But with a mind as troubled as hers, sometimes even the notions of dignity and pride went forgotten once she had something else to worry about.

No, truthfully, it wasn't his loss. It never had been his loss. He was as good as the perfect guy, without embodying some impossible, unreasonable ideal: Sokka had been kind, thoughtful, intelligent, unyielding… he was the perfect rival for her many instincts and impulses. Just so, each of those factors drew her to him in ways they shouldn't have… but the one thing that drew her most was his honesty. So many people were capable of lying to her face, they'd done it for years, without her awareness… others lied far less effectively, pretending to care about her, but she could tell, by their actions, by their behavior, that they were merely telling themselves as much, to chase away their own guilt about having abandoned her when she had needed them most. She couldn't trust anyone, that was what she'd told herself…

And yet, against all common sense, she had grown to trust him. Upon scheming a mischievous prank to torment her brother – her special kind of birthday present, as she'd thought of it at the time –, she found her plan had overlapped with his: in the end, they joined forces and Zuko had quite an unforgettable day chasing off turtle ducks in the Palace, and tripping over the droppings they had left all over the place while panicking while attempting to find their way out of the building. From that day forward, they had been allies, messing with their friends and family whenever the chance arose, not realizing they were drifting together in more ways than they'd originally planned…

She never did expect to wake up in his bed one day, and she suspected he never expected that, either. She kept her distance for a few days afterwards, and he didn't complain… which bothered her, of course. Upon cornering him for answers, he admitted he wouldn't push her for more than they'd had, considering she ran away from his bedroom even before he woke up. He had assumed it was a one-night-stand for her… and he had teasingly remarked that he wouldn't mind if she decided to make it a two-night-stand instead.

That number, of course, only continued to increase upon each of their encounters. Every time he paid a visit to the Fire Nation, on any official business, she'd find a chance to sneak into his room, or to drag him into hers, and they would both be in the highest spirits on the next day, trading silent smirks whenever they crossed paths again. For a time, Azula had thought this was the greatest of all pranks they had pulled so far, for her whole family, and his, would be so appalled to discover what they'd been up to in secret…

… Until one night, as he laid in bed behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, he had uttered words that shattered her whole world in a single instant:

"I love you."

She thought to pretend she was asleep, though her eyes were still open, and she knew he could see it. He sensed her breath hitching too, her heartbeats picking up speed… there was no way she could pretend she hadn't heard him. And yet, as he nestled behind her, fingers caressing her hair, she couldn't bring herself to answer. She couldn't say the words that were crossing her mind… because there was only one word, truthfully. And that word was simply: why?

Why would he love her? Why would he admit that he loved her? Why would he even think it was a good idea to say such words to her? Why on earth had he decided to say it right then and there? Why, why, why…?

And yet she knew she couldn't say any of what she was thinking. She didn't dare. She didn't truly want to hear his answers to those questions.

For he was honest, yes, that was the first thing she had known she liked about him. He wasn't the type to lie, whether to spare her feelings or his own. He hadn't said those words on a whim: he had likely carried them inside him for ages, blurting them out as he had, unthinking, because he couldn't contain the emotions anymore. And yet… she couldn't accept it. She simply couldn't accept it.

Instead of lying quietly there, of staying put in his bed, silently enduring the panic attack his words had triggered in her, she sat up and left. She avoided him for the rest of his visit, pointedly… and she didn't even say goodbye, when he finally left.

She needed time. That was it, she guessed: time to process his affections, time to understand how on earth he had ever reached such levels of devotion towards her. And she should have simply told him that, right? And yet how on earth does someone answer an "I love you" with "Give me time to think about it"? She didn't dare do that. And yet perhaps, if she had dared, he wouldn't have been hurt. It was almost a whole year before he returned to the Fire Nation again, and when he did, he scarcely spared her a few glances. She had sent him no letters while he was away, and he had sent her none either. Was he confused? Was he angry? Was he depressed? She couldn't tell anymore. All she could tell, however, was that he seemed to have decided he wouldn't dwell on the past anymore, and he wouldn't indulge in any hopes that something genuine could come from their casual relationship.

She had tried to interpret that as a sign to move on and forget about him. Perhaps he truly hadn't loved her at all – not that she had truly believed he could have loved her, she believed he THOUGHT he did, but she was quite certain that was, all in all, implausible on every possible level. So she had decided to shake it all off, to continue with her life… and yet it wasn't easy to do so. They had met a few more times since then, and every cold shoulder, every dismissive word, every plain interaction between them, with no hint of the old affection he used to line his words with, had felt like a frozen dagger digging deeper through her heart.

And that was, ultimately, why she had offered to travel with him to retrieve his sword. It was a strange way to attempt to mend fences, she knew… but she hadn't known what else to do to stop the pain she felt when she saw him. She hadn't known how else to tear down the walls that he had built between them… walls she had as good as asked him to build, in the first place.

Suffice to say, it wasn't going as she had planned, not in the least. She had hoped to entice him, perhaps… but he seemed to be completely invulnerable to her charms by now. He knew all her tricks, and was utterly unwilling to fall for any of them. Had she really pushed him away that hard, that violently…? Or was it, perhaps, that he had already found someone else? Maybe that was it, and she was wasting her time here…

"If so, why isn't he here with his new girlfriend instead of me?" Azula reasoned out loud, just before dipping one toe in what turned out to be a near-freezing lake. She snarled before raising her hands, quickly warming the water with her bending.

She managed to warm the water she would use, spreading the heat through the small lake until she found a comfortable enough spot, with her torso still above water. He wasn't wrong, she didn't quite enjoy all the dirt that clung to her after their whole day of hiking in this forest from the city of Garsai… but that he dared even comment on how long she usually bathed had surprised her. It was the first time he had acknowledged their relationship in any way, if just by admitting he knew Azula a little more intimately than anyone else was aware. Fool that she was, she had wistfully wondered if perhaps it meant he wasn't that unwilling to return to what they'd had… then he had shut everything down all the same, no thanks to her foolish responses.

She had no patience for these matters. She was far from the most sociable person there was, to begin with, and she was more than a bit tired of chasing after him, when every passing day further convinced her that he wanted nothing from her anymore. It was outrageous, though, wasn't it? If he truly had loved her at all, which no, she didn't think he had, why would he begrudge her for not saying the daft words right back at him? She was far from a connoisseur on the matter, but conditioned love didn't appear to be true love at all. Her relationship with her father was supposed to be the clearest example of that, or so every damn expert at that wretched asylum had insisted on drilling into her head until she had begrudgingly accepted it as a reality.

So, as far as she could tell, he was a selfish hypocrite, and he was trying to guilt her into loving him. Ha! That was utterly stupid, and he was playing a losing game, if so. He prized honesty as much as he did, didn't he? Why would she bother lying to his face to make him feel better? He would know it was a lie immediately, so he'd only grow more frustrated with her if she played the mild-mannered, sweet girl who could become a housewife and live happily that way, if only to spare his thrice-accursed feelings…

Caught in her thoughts, she often forgot to warm the water again, and in the process of overthinking and warming the water, she had damn near forgotten, too, what she was supposed to be doing in this damn lake in the first place. She returned to shore, gathered some soap, and traversed the lake to the spot she had liked once again… only to hear rustling of tree leaves that indicated someone was approaching.

She almost wished it were a wild animal, then she could have merely set it ablaze and been done with it… but upon quickly turning her head around, she found, of course, that it was him. Sokka glanced at her but raised his hands defensively before turning around. Azula gritted her teeth and tore her eyes away from him too, knowing he was disrobing… knowing she wanted to see it happen, too. Curse him for being such a sensitive idiot…

Or was she the sensitive idiot, instead? She hadn't known for sure who was at fault back then, and she didn't have any clarity on the matter now, either.

She heard him slipping inside the water, and she only endeavored to continue rubbing the soap over her arms and torso, pointedly ignoring the urge to glance at the body she had grown used to caressing and gazing upon for as long as their dalliance had lasted… just how long had it been, really? She barely knew anymore. A little more than a year, maybe? Who the hell said "I love you" within less than a year of secretly dating someone, if what they were doing could amount to dating?

Ugh, well, how was she supposed to know that, truly? Mai had outright spat to her face that she loved Zuko more than she feared Azula, and those two had only been together for months at the time… had she told Zuko she loved him, directly, by then? Maybe she had. Such nonsense…

"You sure take your time bathing out in nature, huh?" he said suddenly, startling her. "Didn't take you for the type to be that bold when the whole world could see you…"

"Bold? Hardly," Azula rebuffed, and she chided her own heart for beating that fast upon being addressed by him again. What nonsense was that, too? "I'm taking my time because we were quite filthy after a whole day of hiking, don't you think?"

"Fair enough… though the water's colder than I'd think you'd be comfortable with," he said. "Though… heh. You're warming it up, aren't you?"

"Sharp as ever, I see," Azula said, rinsing off the soap already. Sokka chuckled.

"And you're either being sarcastic, which is just like you, or you're being flattering, which… is new. Just as taking baths that last longer than ten minutes would be new for you."

"You're awfully hung on that matter, aren't you?" Azula asked, rolling her eyes. "I'm pretty sure I've taken longer baths than that…"

"Sure you did. When you took them with me."

His words froze her anew. Again, that stupid, weaseling hope, needling through her body like a snake, seeking to dig its fangs into her damn heart… poisoned fangs, as far as she could tell. He had to stop it. He really did. At this rate they'd end up having the argument of the century, and she wasn't sure she cared to endure that, not when she was miles away from civilization with only him for company…

She'd tell him not to do that anymore, then. She would. She wasn't sure their conversation wouldn't escalate into an argument even if she said so, but if she spoke earnestly, surely he'd back off…?

She turned her head towards him, finding he stood about fifteen feet away from her. Again, that strong, muscular back was the sight that greeted her, and oh, what a sight it was…

But before she could utter a single word, a most unwanted, unfamiliar and distressing sensation on her arm stopped her from speaking.

She had no idea what it was at first, but it was uncomfortable from the first instant: something had latched onto her skin, tugging at it, as though sucking it… and her immediate instinct was to trash the affected arm into the water, instinctively panicking and seeking to get rid of whatever this strange offender was.

Only upon shaking her arm did she identify whatever clung to her arm as a purple, round being… a living being: there was an animal stuck to her arm.

"What's…?! Oh, no, no, get off me!"

She pushed it, smacked it, attempted to force it to loosen its grip on her skin, and yet it seemed her every violent reaction only compelled it to cling tighter. Curses, was it some sort of leech? Was it clinging to her now, only to stick some poisonous, murderous sting into her body…? Her eyes widened at the possibility, and she slammed it harder into the water, to no results.

"Go away, go away, you stupid, damned…!"

"Woah, Azula, what's going on?" Sokka called to her. Her first shouts had been alarming enough, but he had briefly taken her silence to mean she had dealt with the problem… apparently not, though.

"It's nothing, it's…! Shit, what is this?! Get off me, damn it, go away already!"

"Ugh, okay, you know what? I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on, and I think I need to," Sokka sighed, turning towards her. "I promise I'm not doing this to peek, just to help…!"

"W-well then, help! Find your damn sword and slice this wretched thing off me!" Azula almost shrieked, turning towards him and gesturing at him with her afflicted arm.

Yet to her surprise, there was no sign of urgency in Sokka's face when he identified the creature on Azula's arm. She damn near snapped at him for being so nonchalant when, for all she knew, her very life could be in danger… yet he surprised her by wading towards her and reaching for the creature.

"What are you…?" she asked, nervously, until her nervousness was replaced by sheer outrage… when Sokka scratched the strange, purple being's head. "Are you kidding me?! What are you doing?! Do you hate me so much you're congratulating the damn thing for…?!"

Sokka's deadpan stare didn't change in the least when the creature's five, flat tentacles released Azula suddenly. Her eyes widened as she stared at it, and Sokka snatched the creature off her body, showing it to her deliberately.

"This, Princess, is a pentapus," he stated. "And that's how you get rid of them. It's as simple as that."

Oh, to hell with it. Her outburst had been more than unwarranted, if the solution was truly that easy… and now she felt utterly idiotic for it, which she had no doubt her blush was transmitting to Sokka. She didn't even dare meet his eyes… hence, she was surprised upon hearing him laugh softly.

"Don't feel that bad, Azula. I reacted the same way when they stuck to me the first time, too," he said. "And it was way worse than this, if I may…"

"Worse?" Azula repeated. Sokka nodded solemnly.

"You know, a story worthy of a savage like me, of the sorts you love to make fun of me for," Sokka grinned. She had dared gaze up at him, and that he'd smile genuinely at her was… well, not unpleasant. For once. "It happened… in a sewer, of all places."

"In a… a sewer?" Azula asked, grimacing as Sokka chuckled, shaking his head.

"My dear sister and her beloved Avatar… those two jerks took to diverting the waste off themselves with their bending. And who's the guy who couldn't possibly get away with doing the same thing? That's right, the stellar non-bender who took all that… literal shit, straight to the face, in many cases."

"That's… ugh, that's so gross, Sokka!" Azula exclaimed, horrified as he laughed carelessly.

"It's okay, I've cleaned up many times since then, you don't have to worry that the gross waste still clings to me somehow…" he smiled. "Took me about ten rounds of proper soap as soon as I had a chance to clean up to get rid of the stench, but it worked in the end. No need to be too grossed out anymore."

"I only hope now that your creepy story is no sign of… well, of this lake being less pure than we expected it to be," Azula said, eyeing the waters warily. Sokka chuckled and shook his head.

"It's a bit too dark already to tell, but hey, this place is in the middle of a forest and it doesn't reek of waste… so it might not be that bad, huh?"

Azula gazed at him wistfully, at that smile… it was charming, she knew that from the start. She liked him well enough serious and brooding, there was more than enough charm in that too… but that smile. The chance to make him happy, even if just by being foolish, careless and clumsy, was a surprising blessing… one that now soothed her heart despite she had been troubled and anguished mere moments before he entered the water too. To think such a small, simple creature could have served as a harbinger of harmony between them… though, again, she shouldn't get her hopes up. That wouldn't be a good idea, no matter what��

"You're all done washing now, though?" Sokka asked. Azula snapped back to her senses upon those words. "If so…"

"I'll go fix my tent, yeah," Azula said, though Sokka bit his lip.

"I was actually going to ask if… if you could do me a favor," he blurted out. Azula frowned.

"A favor?" she asked.

"Well… the water's kind of chilly," he smiled awkwardly. "Can you, maybe, warm it up a little further? I mean, I would've asked all along if I'd thought we could just bathe at the same time without consequence, but I figured you wouldn't want that, so…"

"I wouldn't want that…?" she asked again. Sokka shrugged.

"You did tell me not to peek," he said. "I said there was likely nothing new for me to see, but if you didn't want me looking at you, I wasn't going to bother you…"

"That's… that's what you meant?" Azula asked, surprised. Sokka nodded.

"Why? What else did you think I meant?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Azula opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. She was such an idiot when it came to this sort of thing, oh, she really was, and yet… how to speak at all? How to tell him that she kept saying things she didn't mean only to elicit reactions from people? But where she had once been able to read him like a book, now he was undecipherable to her…

The silence between them continued… until suddenly Sokka flinched, turning his head, hopelessly glancing at his back.

"Uh… crap. Oh crap. Azula? Is there a pentapus on my back too?" he asked, spinning in circles as he struggled to glimpse the creature. Azula blinked blankly before shaking her head rapidly.

"S-stop moving around, I can't get it if there is one!" she said, grabbing his flanks to stop him… and trying not to think of the implications of touching him. No, that was best stashed on her mind for later.

The pentapus was on his lower back: she nudged it with her finger at first, sighing before settling for caressing it properly instead… and then she felt another set of such tentacles around her ankle. Startled, she fell into the water when she lost balance, and that could only be bad news for her…

Sokka clasped her wrist and pulled her to him: their bodies slapped together, not with the erotic intent with which they had been in contact in the past, especially while naked. And while the thought crossed Azula's mind, it was but a fleeting thought nonetheless: Sokka's hands relocated to her shoulders, though he kept her close all the same.

"Did another one get you?" he asked. Azula grimaced and nodded.

"It's on my ankle," she said. Sokka huffed.

"Maybe we should just get out of the water, get rid of them on land," he suggested, before flinching. "Ack, another on the back of my knee and… woah, that's dirty! It's on my asscheek!"

Despite her own discomfort, that final claim of Sokka's caused Azula to burst into laughter as they stumbled towards the lake's shore together, squirming at the discomfort of the tentacles that stuck to their bodies, and wincing every time a new one caught either of their legs.

"Okay, okay! We're going to get rid of them all, one by one!" Sokka squeaked, once they reached the shore indeed: Azula had two more in one calf, and she grimaced while raising her leg, but Sokka pulled it towards him without even asking: he rubbed the two small pentapi until they detached, and then he cast them powerfully towards the lake, prompting Azula to chuckle at his powerful heave. "That's what you get! You can't touch a lady without permission, damn pentapus!"

"You didn't exactly ask for permission either, did you?" she smiled. Sokka blinked blankly and smiled guiltily at her.

"I figured, since it's an emergency…?"

That Azula was amused by the situation seemed to have defused some of their lingering tension: she reached for the pentapus that clung to his rear, and Sokka grimaced as Azula succeeded at pulling it off his body. He continued working with hers too, ridding her of the pentapus on her ankle, and Azula did away with the one behind the knee he couldn't flex anymore because of it. It was a gradual process, and one that forced them to reacquaint with each other's body in a less intimate manner than intended… and yet it felt intimate in its own way too.

"Is that all of them?" Sokka asked her, after removing the final one that had latched to her upper thigh. "None got your ass, did they?"

"You'd rather they had?" Azula asked, amused.

"I didn't say that, but… I wouldn't have minded too much, is all," Sokka smirked a little, more shameless than he had allowed himself to be for a long time.

"How about you?" Azula asked, biting her lip as she gazed upon his body, trying to focus on the task at hand, on the many strings of concentric red dots over his skin now, especially in his lower body's area. "Anything I missed?"

"I think not?" Sokka said, glancing about himself with uncertainty. "Though now we look like we've got pentapox, heh. Did I ever tell you about that? How we got all the people out of Omashu…?"

"You… didn't tell me, no," Azula said, staring at him keenly through narrow eyes. Sokka chuckled and shrugged.

"I got the idea of using a fake disease to pretend there was an outbreak in the city," he said. "It happened after the pentapi got me in the sewers, the Fire Nation soldiers thought who caught us in the city thought I was sick, Katara told them I had pentapox, and they panicked… and then, when we met up with Bumi's resistance, they had no idea how to get out of the city and I suggested they used pentapox as an excuse: the soldiers panicked about the outbreak and let everyone go, and they were free from Fire Nation tyranny for it."

"You… are either an idiot or a genius," Azula said, smiling and shaking her head. Sokka huffed, raising his head haughtily.

"Wrong, Princess, for if other people's perception of me is to be accounted for, I'm actually both things at the same time," he declared, prompting her to laugh, despite herself.

"I gave Ukano such a hard time for that foolishness," Azula acknowledged. "Now I can see I was right to do so: pentapox, seriously?"

"Hey, fooled your people, even if it didn't fool you," Sokka smiled. "For an idiot, I'm not really that stupid, am I?"

"No, I guess you're not," Azula admitted.

Her smile was far more affectionate than she intended for it to be, and yet she didn't contain it. She didn't restrain herself. The very chance to swap stories with him, to talk at leisure, to smile and laugh… how she had missed that.

Oh, she had missed him, terribly so. It wasn't something she could deny to herself any longer.

"Don't feel bad, though, Princess," Sokka smiled. "The suction dots fade away after a while. Kind of like a hickey does."

"Heh. Those didn't fade away all that quickly, as far as I recall," Azula said, raising her eyebrows. Sokka chuckled and shrugged.

"Guess not all of them would, no," he admitted. "But you know, these are way smaller, and most are on our lower bodies, so it's not like there's going to be much to worry about. Unless, I don't know, you had a gig modeling naked for some sculptor within the next, what, ten-to-twelve hours…?"

"If I did have one, and you'd pulled this on me, I'd make you pay for this humiliation for as long as we lived," Azula assured him. Sokka grinned too honestly, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Fine, then. No trips to weird lakes with Azula right before she has an appointment with the royal sculptor," he decided.

It was so natural, so easy… she almost felt like sitting at the edge of the lake with him, and merely talking for as many hours as they'd had failed to talk throughout their journey so far. Though she also felt like doing something else, as she allowed her eyes to gaze at his still-glistening skin… at the body she had grown so accustomed to once, and that she had deprived herself from, by her own foolish mistakes. Suddenly, all the bad blood seemed to be irrelevant, and she wanted nothing but to touch him, and not merely just to rid him of another pentapus anymore…

"Here I thought I wasn't allowed to peek… yet you're checking me out, Princess?"

She froze, shooting a glare at him as he smirked in her direction. Azula rolled her eyes at his reaction, though she smiled before long.

"Fine. What's fair is fair. You're free to ogle me if you so wish."

"Ah, thanks for allowing it. I mean, I already had looked at everything I wanted to look at, but knowing you allow it does lighten my heart's load…"

"You're the worst," Azula smiled, glancing at him again as Sokka chuckled. "Here I thought you weren't stealing any glances at me, that all this pentapus business was very professional…"

"It was, Princess, of course it was. If I'd broken protocol, you'd be moaning your lungs out by now," he said, nonchalantly. Azula gasped, and he smirked proudly.

"And what makes you think I would've allowed you to get away with that?" she asked.

"That you were checking me out just now, of course," he determined.

"Heh. And what convinces you that it'd be me moaning instead of you?" Azula huffed. Sokka raised his eyebrows and smiled at her, biting his lip playfully.

"Then… you want to make me moan as badly as I want to make you moan?" he asked. Her cheeks flushed violently. "Are we going to play it fair that way, too? A glance for a glance, a touch for a touch, a kiss for a kiss…?"

"Who said anything about kisses?" Azula whispered, though her eyes didn't leave Sokka's: she offered him a challenge, and the Sokka she had always known had been unable to resist one… she only hoped he'd be just as unwilling to hold back this time as he ever had been in the past.

"I just did, didn't you hear me?" He smiled as he leaned closer to her: Azula's heart raced gaster still. "Because something tells me you wouldn't mind it if I kissed your pentapox marks better…"

"There's no such thing as pentapox," Azula retorted. Sokka smirked.

"Funny thing to focus on, when I just said I wanted to kiss your legs all over," he said. Azula shivered visibly, breaking their eye contact by drawing her eyes down, almost bashfully.

It was not too surprising that she'd be that flustered, though it disappointed Sokka to a fault, all the same. Back in the day, she would have merely responded with her own crude remarks until they wound up in bed, thrusting wildly at each other. Now, though… she hesitated. Just as she had run away that night. It was no surprise, not really…

"Just the legs?"

Her question threw him off, just as he had been about to make up his mind to stand up and return to their campsite, once he told her not to make much of their flirty teasing. He blinked blankly, as Azula raised her face again, with fierce determination.

"You just said… what, now?" he blurted out.

"Didn't you hear me?" Azula said, despite her voice trembled. "Is it just the legs you'd kiss… snow savage?"

A title that had started as a mere jest at his expenses had eventually gained another meaning, after their third opportunity to sleep together: she had determined the true reason Water Tribe people were thought to be savages wasn't that their civilization was underdeveloped… but rather, that their erotic inclinations were so wild and unrestrained they stood out from the rest. She couldn't speak for a whole culture, of course not… but she could certainly speak for Sokka's skills. And after making such surprisingly flattering claims, Sokka had pinned her to the bed and proven himself a savage more proudly than ever before – and Azula had some trouble walking the next day because of it.

She had called him a snow savage before in their journey: had it been to evoke that night, or had it been, again, just a jest? All possibilities were on the table when it came to Azula. Yet right now he couldn't possibly doubt what she was suggesting… he couldn't second-guess it. He knew he wasn't getting a better deal than this one, and he had been too selfless as it was: he couldn't resist her, let alone her striking, gorgeous body, for another moment.

Sokka's hand shot to the back of her head, and when he pulled her closer to press his lips to hers, he found her own hands had clasped his neck: so violently they joined that their teeth crashed, and yet they didn't stop because of it. They had wasted too much time, worried about too much nonsense… it was enough by now. There was but one solution for their predicament, and the best prelude for it was heated, savage sex of the sort they had enjoyed before their relationship had fallen to shambles.

His arms surrounded her waist, compelling her to wrap her legs around his body: he rose to his feet, fearing he'd lose balance, but he remained determined to kiss her deeper and longer. Azula's heart raced ferociously, her fingers tight around his smooth hair locks as every familiar, blissful sensation he elicited in her body tore through her very soul. He wasn't kissing her halfheartedly, as he might have if he no longer cared… as he might have, if he no longer loved her. Then… he had distanced himself from her because he had believed, again, that that was what she had wanted? He hadn't chased after her… because he had taken her behavior as rejection, rather than an invitation to try harder? He had given her space, assuming she needed it, taking for granted that she didn't love him back…

He was kissing her wildly, walking naked through a forest with her, despite he probably thought she didn't love him back.

And now her heart ached, even if she didn't know why. She couldn't understand it, try as though she might. He interrupted their kiss briefly, only to ensure he was on the right track towards the tent he had pitched, and he stole a few more kisses from her lips before reaching their destination: tugging the flap aside, he knelt before the entrance, setting Azula down atop the sleeping bag. He kicked the tent's flap closed clumsily, and quickly returned to worshipping her body, his full weight crushing her delightfully.

He certainly hadn't expected her to return his passion as she did: even now her legs seemed unwilling to let go of him, and her long nails dug into his skin, proving she had wanted this desperately. He had found it odd that she would tag along for a trip with him, eventually he took for granted that she only wanted to torment him, and relish in a rare chance to leave the Fire Nation Palace, seeing as Zuko scarcely ever let her set foot outside it, let alone outside her nation… but if she had merely wanted to escape, using him as a stepping stone for it, she wouldn't have stayed with him once they reached the Earth Kingdom. He had half-expected to wake up and discover his traveling companion was gone, on the previous night, which they'd spent in a modest inn at Garsai… but she was still there. Then, he had expected her to take off through the forest, leaving him to his own devices… and again, she didn't do that. She seemed to genuinely want to come with him… though why, he didn't know for sure, not until now. He had pondered that she might have wanted to make amends for breaking his heart, but he hadn't thought she'd wish to rekindle their affair at all…

Now, as she thrusted upwards at him, one of her hands dashing between their bodies to pump his manhood, he realized the most wishful of all possibilities was, despite his rational mind had constantly claimed otherwise, the true explanation for Azula's actions.

He didn't hold back, not in the least: he drilled into her fiercely once they joined their bodies, thrusting with as much strength as he could muster while still kissing her as often as he could. She was breathless, her body strained, her heart still racing… and yet she wanted more, as she proved by rolling them over on the sleeping bag once he was finished, straddling him as she strived to make him hers for the thousandth time. More savage thrusting, and this time her head nearly crashed with the tent's ceiling as she sat up, riding his shaft recklessly: the tent truly could have fallen down upon her, she wouldn't have cared one bit. Then it was him who took over yet again, and they spent hours taking turns to lead their savage coupling, decorating each other's bodies with as many hickeys and bite marks as they could lavish each other with… and it would make quite the spectacle come morning, once they saw in full daylight the full score of reddened marks their bodies would sport, paired with the many dots the pentapi had left upon them.

The final round found them lying together on their sides, face to face, thrusting slowly into each other while they shared countless kisses after their last climaxes. Sokka closed his eyes, overwhelmed by pleasure: they hadn't eaten dinner yet, and his body appeared to resent him for it, seeing as they'd exercised rather extensively just now. They had also left their clothes behind by the lake, and he certainly hoped they'd still be there by morning… but he didn't dare let go of Azula to deal with any such matters, not just yet. Not while her body was wound so tightly around his own, not when it might be one of the last times it ever was… for he had no foolish hopes that this rekindling would last longer than this trip to find Space Sword. Not when Azula had already ran away from him before… when she might just do it again if he ever overwhelmed her ever again…

"You're… not going to say anything?" her voice broke through the darkness and silence, and Sokka damn near wished she hadn't spoken at all. Silence, uncertainty, were better than the mistakes he was likely to make while attempting to read her once again.

"Didn't think you'd want me to," he whispered, simply. He had thought that would be enough for Azula to understand how scared he was, how unwilling to let go of her… but naturally, the proud princess couldn't make anything easy for him.

"Since when do you do whatever I want you to?" she said. He huffed: he should know better than to fall for her verbal traps and tricks… and yet he plunged headfirst into this one, hating himself for it as he uttered his response.

"Since always," he said, bluntly. Azula frowned, but fell silent again. "Since the first night we spent together. For every minute and every moment of my life since then."

"That's… not true," Azula said, though her voice trembled lightly. "How… how could you even know what I wanted without asking me, anyway? If you didn't know…"

"I fucked you when you wanted me to. I walked away when you wanted me to," Sokka said, simply. "And I shut up now, because I know that if I dare say what I'm really thinking, you'll take off again and I don't think my stupid heart will be able to take that anymore."

Azula tensed up next to him. He didn't attempt to soften his words, which he had spoken far more bitterly than he had intended to… but it was true enough that he had seen more than his share of heartbreak throughout his life. There was only so much he could take before he came crashing down for good, unwilling to love ever again… frankly, he had thought he was there already, after she had ran off on him that night. He had been so anguished for the next months, doing his best to stay out of her way, to never inconvenience her… and in the process, he had nearly self-destructed. He was dead sure the reason no one wanted to take a road trip with him wasn't because everyone was too busy… but rather, because none of his friends thought it was a good idea to spend long stretches of time with the moodiest, least fun Sokka they had ever known. To this day, none of them understood why he had changed so much, so suddenly… and to this day, he refused to explain, too. How to explain he had finally found the right person to spend his life with, only to discover he didn't embody the same thing for her…?

"S-Sokka…" she called for him suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts. Sokka breathed deeply and rubbed his face with a hand, as though trying to shake off the emotional words that had tumbled out of him. What a fool… he wasn't supposed to tell her any of that. He wasn't supposed to guilt her into a damn thing, what was wrong with him?

"Don't mind me, Azula, don't… don't worry. I'm okay," he said, simply.

She seemed rather determined to prove him wrong, however: her hand reached for his chest, touching his heart, feeling its powerful, yet fragile beats. He gritted his teeth, trying to find something to say, anything to defuse the charged situation, far more tense now than in the rest of their awkward days on the road, combined…

"You said you loved me," she whispered. His breath caught. "You said so… and I left. But it wasn't because I… b-because I didn't want to see you anymore."

"What?" Sokka said, and the confusion did nothing to help his current discomfort.

"Sokka, I… I'm sorry. I know you believe you loved me, and because you did, I ruined everything, but the truth is…"

"Woah, what's that supposed to mean, 'I believe I loved you'?" Sokka snapped, eyeing her dark silhouette with a scowl. "There's no 'believe' about it, Azula. I loved you: I still do."

"You… no, Sokka, no," Azula said, shaking her head promptly. Yet her tone, the nervousness with which she spoke… it gave him pause, where he'd had none before. While he certainly didn't appreciate being told by anyone that his feelings couldn't be what he knew they were, he also knew Azula well enough by now to understand there was more going on underneath the surface than she wanted to admit right now.

"No what?" he said, softening his voice. "What are you trying to tell me, Azula?"

"You can't love me. And if you truly did, t-then… you shouldn't," she said, shivering against him. "I can't be… I can't be loved, not like other people can. I can't love, either, so maybe just…"

"What the hell? What's that supposed to mean?" Sokka asked, and Azula shook her head.

"That's what they said. In that damn asylum," she swallowed hard. "They diagnosed me, and tested me, and decided I was… incapable of I don't know how many emotions. They said I couldn't feel them, that I only pretended to, that I… that I copied what I saw in others, but was incapable of truly feeling those emotions myself."

"What sort of…? That's bullshit!" Sokka exclaimed, frowning. Azula shrank in her spot beside him, pressing her head to his chest. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?! You're capable of emotions alright, of so many of them, for crying out loud… who the hell paid those pieces of shit to say that about you? I'll go gut them as soon as we find Space Sword…"

"My mother thought I was a monster," Azula spoke against his chest. Sokka's wild rant stopped cold suddenly. "Why would she love Zuko but not me? Why would she say something was wrong with me if nothing had been wrong at all? Even now, she looks at me funny, no matter if Zuko's taken me back. Like she thinks any moment I'm just going to snap, and set the whole damn Palace on fire. Somedays… somedays I actually do want to do that, Sokka. Whenever I'm too frustrated, I just…"

"Then you can be frustrated? Isn't that an emotion?" Sokka huffed. "Azula… I can't say I know anything for sure, but it sounds like those damn assholes at that institution weren't trying to help you at all. If anything… they tried to convince you that you weren't human. They made you think emotions were worthless, and well, your damn family doesn't help one bit either…"

"But emotions are… they're not good, Sokka," Azula said, shaking her head.

"Says who? Ozai's far from a reliable source of information, you know…"

"It's not just him. It's… I've let myself be swayed by stupid impulses so many times now," Azula said, gritting her teeth. "I mean… if that's what emotions are, they just… they make you do things you shouldn't. They make you lose sight of your rational mind, and then…"

"The more you fight them, the worse it gets," Sokka finished for her. Azula flinched beside him. "Which… sounds like you understand and know emotions pretty well, for someone who allegedly can't feel them."

Azula breathed with difficulty against him, and to her surprise, his arms wrapped warmly around her, pulling her as close as she could be to him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"What did you feel… when you heard I was visiting again, the first time I visited the Fire Nation after all those months without seeing you?" he asked. Azula tensed around him. "Nothing wrong will come from telling me, Azula. I'm not going to hurt you. I just… need to know. And I think you need to say it even more than I need to hear it."

She swallowed hard before making up her mind. There was no trace of joking in his voice… no hint of mockery, of forcefulness, of bullheaded stubbornness. He wasn't trying to make her accept his feelings… he was trying to help her understand her own. Tears surged in her eyes, and with her face pressed to his bare chest as it was, she knew he would feel them directly on his skin.

"I… wanted to see you," she whispered. "I hoped you'd want to see me too. But when we crossed paths, you simply… walked past me. You barely even glanced at me. I… I thought I disgusted you. And it… it hurt. It did."

"I thought I was the one who disgusted you," Sokka said with a trembling voice, tightening his embrace further. "When you ran off, and avoided seeing me, I… I was sure it meant you'd never wanted things to go as far as they did. So I… decided to leave you be. Because I figured you didn't love me back. I thought… you'd be better off without me."

"I wasn't. I'm not," Azula admitted with far more honesty than she ever thought she'd muster, shaking her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry," Sokka whispered, and she gasped. "I should've… guessed I couldn't understand what was going through your head. Doesn't matter how smart I think I am, you're always much more complicated than I can figure out…"

"You… you're not the one who should apologize," Azula said, shaking her head again, and by now the tears did stream down her face. "I'm the one who… who left, and I hurt you, because I didn't know how to tell you that… t-that you shouldn't have loved someone like me…"

"I'm afraid that's never going to stop me," Sokka smiled sadly, raising a hand to her cheek, wiping the tears away as best he could with his thumb. "Love isn't that easily given and taken away."

"But I…" she gasped, shaking her head. "You can't… y-you shouldn't love me, Sokka. No one has ever…"

"I don't know if no one has ever loved you, Azula," Sokka whispered, raising her chin delicately: despite how dark it was, she could see his shape looming closer, so close he found her lips with his own, but far more softly than earlier. Her breath hitched as he pulled away, and she remained desperate, eager for more. "But if no one did before, I'm proud to be the first person who ever did. Whatever mistakes you made… we'll fix them, if they can be fixed. We'll move past them, if they can't be. And you know what's the best part? You don't have to love me back. I didn't tell you how I felt because… because I thought you'd respond with the same thing. I said it because… because I couldn't hold back anymore. Because you made me so happy, you still do, and… I needed you to know that. If you never feel the same way towards me, I'll accept it… but that won't change my feelings for you. It won't erase my truth. And that's still my truth, to this day: I love you, Azula. And as far as I can tell, I always will."

She couldn't hold back anymore: a torrent of tears streamed down her cheeks as she embraced him tightly, just as tight, if not even more so, as she had earlier that day. He held her the same way, pressing gentle kisses around her face, on the top of her head, on her temples… and she only cried further, overwhelmed, overcome by the onslaught of emotions she was supposedly unable to experience.

Had she truly been incapable of those emotions at all… or had she merely locked them away, in all the trauma of her childhood and teenage years, until they finally had broken free upon hearing Sokka's words tonight? Had his sincere, selfless feelings given wing to hers…? Or was she truly just emulating feelings she had seen someplace else…?

Ha. She was sure she had never seen anyone crying this pathetically over a love confession, so copying such an emotional outburst was ruled out.

Which meant… they were wrong. The diagnosis had been wrong. Maybe she was capable of much more than those damn mental experts had decided she was…

Those thoughts calmed her, despite they were anything but tranquilizing, as they would mean she had been living her life halfway for years now, abiding by that damn assessment as though it owned her, attempting to trick herself into believing her inability to feel emotions was a good thing somehow… but there was a lot she needed to do right now instead of crying, in the wake of such a revelation.

"H-how… how do you know you love me?" Azula asked, her voice fragile and unsteady. Her question took Sokka by surprise. "How does anyone know… that they're feeling love for someone else? I… I'm not trying to copy it, I just want to know if…"

"I didn't think you'd be copying anything in the first place," Sokka whispered, rubbing her back gently. "But if you're worried… how about you tell me how you feel, and I'll tell you if that sounds like love or not?"

"Then…" she said, breathing deeply. "I was… happy to see you, but then you didn't seem to want anything to do with me. M-my chest felt hollow, somehow… and when I talked to defend you when Zuko was being an ass about your quest for your sword, I thought you might be grateful, but you looked unaffected, as though it didn't matter… it hurt, too. I felt like an idiot, because I… I thought maybe you were happier whenever I wasn't around. That I'd messed up so badly that now you were better off without me, but I was so hung up on you, I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I wanted to fix things between us… because I wanted you to smile the way you always did before. It hurt that you wouldn't, but I hoped… and then the damn pentapus thing stuck to me and you were back to your old self for a moment, and we were laughing, and helping each other, and my damn stupid hollow chest felt full again…"

Sokka's hands didn't stop rubbing against her back gently. Azula gritted her teeth, clinging to him, to her every word, as she spoke with far more honesty than she remembered doing in her whole life. It seemed she had learned that from him, somehow…

"I never wanted to lose you," she said. "I never wanted to push you so far away you'd never want to come back. I thought… I thought you'd come back and fight to stay by my side because… isn't that how love works? I never thought… I never thought you were walking away because you loved me. B-because you thought that was what I wanted… I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't… I didn't want to push you away, Sokka…"

"I get it," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I understand now. I… I'm relieved, you know? I thought I'd spend the rest of my life alone…"

"You…?" Azula said, puzzled. Sokka chuckled.

"No one knew I was with you… so my damn sister kept trying to set me up with people. I always said no, she'd always find a way to throw them at me, I'd always make myself scarce as soon as I knew there was yet another girl waiting to meet the great hero Sokka…"

"Pfft… great hero?" Azula smiled, amused.

"See? I don't want or need a girl who worships me" Sokka chuckled, kissing her brow. "I'd rather have one who thinks all that stuff is nonsense… because she sees right through me, and knows deep down I'm just a dork who wants to spend time with his friends, talk nonsense, joke around, pull pranks on people…"

"We need to do it again… pulling pranks on everyone," Azula smiled, pressing her own lips to his chest. "I miss that."

"Well… I don't know what this really means for us, going forward," Sokka whispered. "Maybe you're not ready for anything too demanding anyway… but what you said you felt for me did sound quite a lot like love, you know?"

"It… did?" Azula said, the hopeful inflection of her voice brought a gentle grin to Sokka's face.

"That's right," he said, pressing his brow to hers. "So… going back to civilization, and telling everyone we're together now? Sounds like the culmination of the greatest prank of all time to me."

"Though it's not just a prank," Azula smiled, closing her eyes. "We are together. Or at least, we should be."

"If we both agree on that… then I guess it means we are," Sokka sighed.

She hadn't known what to make of his tone with the last words he spoke… until a soft laugh shook him, and then he was squeezing her so tight she lost her breath: tears fell upon her skin, just as her own had fallen on his. Azula gritted her teeth but hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder as he sobbed quietly against her.

Just one silly development, one chaotic afternoon spent battling against strange but harmless invertebrates, had turned into a wild evening of relentless trysts until they had released their everything together… and then it had become an emotional night, where they had finally talked thoroughly, finally understanding each other's fears, weakness, insecurities and thought processes. It hadn't needed to come this far, they both knew it… and yet they were so grateful to recover what they'd lost that they didn't stop to reason with how much time they had wasted: instead, their lips met in a tearful kiss, and their bodies joined anew for one more time that night, but in a warmer, loving manner, slow and gradual, until they both reached their final culmination and fell asleep soundly in each other's arms. Just as there had been no violent solution to fend off the pentapi, there had been no such solution for their relationship either: a gentler approach, far more sincere, where they had opened their hearts, regardless of the painful risk it represented, was the only true way to resolve their conflict.

The long-standing tension between them was gone, completely, by the next morning: they couldn't seem to stop smiling together, not when they made love again by dawn, not when they ate a hefty breakfast to make up for the dinner they had missed, not when they rushed back to the lake to find the clothes that they had left lying about by the shore. Once they packed the tent and took off, following Sokka's map, they did as much with hands linked, casting countless teasing comments at each other with every new step they took together.

After a week and a half of long, heartfelt nights and blissful, bright days, their journey appeared to be one that should have lasted a lifetime instead… and yet Azula's luck dictated otherwise.

She spotted it amidst bushes while she foraged for food, as their reserves were near depleted by then: it didn't glow as brightly as it had long ago, but that golden pommel still caught her eye. She pushed the plants out of the way, slowing by the weapon to find it sunken to the hilt in the soil. She breathed deeply and wrapped her hand around the handle's leather, and without much struggle, the weapon came loose… and that black blade nearly glistened under the sunlight once she had withdrawn it completely.

It was over, then. Their long trip, their chance to reconnect and make amends… Azula gritted her teeth as she gazed at the weapon, almost begrudging it for not having taken a little longer to show up, despite she had practically found it by sheer chance as it was. She briefly pondered stashing it away someplace safe, to make sure she and Sokka would continue to travel together for a little longer… but his words, his many decisions and sacrifices for her sake, convinced her otherwise. He had taught her what love looked like: selfishness wasn't part of it. He had come here to find his sword, and she had no right to deprive him from it for a moment longer.

"Sokka?" she called for him, and he raised his head from the small venison he'd been able to catch earlier, thanks to his boomerang.

"What is it?" he asked. "Found anything that looks too bright and funny? It's probably poisonous, if that's it…"

"Well, that sure explains why it was that dangerous all along, huh?" Azula smiled, returning to the clearing they were resting at that morning. She raised her right hand, showing the weapon she held to Sokka, who froze in place immediately. "Didn't think you'd play so underhandedly back in those days, coating your weapon in poison, but…"

"AZULA! YOU FOUND IT?!"

Azula laughed as she offered the sword at her lover, who clumsily jumped to his feet and rushed towards her. He took Space Sword in his hands, smiling brightly enough to cry yet again… and then he dropped the weapon, to her utter astonishment, and embraced her so tightly he raised her from the ground.

"S-Sokka!" she gasped, embracing him right back in fear of falling… especially in fear of falling on his insanely sharp sword.

"You're the greatest, smartest, cleverest, most amazing woman in the entire planet!" he squealed. Despite her previous apprehension, Azula couldn't hold back a trickle of laughter as she pressed her face to his neck. "Oh, hell…! I was starting to think we'd never find it! Which, to be fair, I didn't mind too much? I was having so much fun being on the road with you as it was, that I…!"

"You forgot you were looking for a sword?" Azula smiled, as he set her down at last. "I think I could tell. Seeing as you kept making plans about what we'd eat for our next meal, or what position we'd try for the next night…"

Sokka snorted and laughed, pressing his brow to hers. Azula grinned, breathing out slowly: that was the face she had relished in. That expression of pure, undoubtable bliss… the genuine smiles she had never been deemed worthy of until Sokka had decided otherwise. Her heart ached pleasantly at the sight of it, at the gentle bliss that permeated them both right now.

"Thank you, Azula… thank you so much," he said, pressing many quick, enthusiastic kisses to her lips. Azula's smile only widened further. "Goodness, I owe you so much more than you can imagine…"

"No, you don't…" Azula whispered, caressing his chest. "Whatever debts we owed each other… I think they're settled after this trip. I'd hurt you… now I've made up for it, somehow, I hope…"

"You've more than made up for every bit of pain, Azula… you didn't even have to, but you have," Sokka smiled, caressing her face kindly.

"I did have to…" she said, as another of those impulses she couldn't repress bubbled to the surface: "Because I love you, too."

He had never expected her to return his feelings… let alone for her to say it aloud, if she did. He was sure he'd spend his life with her, regardless of whether she ever said those three words to him at all… and yet now that she had, it was as though his entire world had expanded, exploded, becoming greater, larger and better in a single moment. Tears surged in his eyes, as did in hers… and the next thing she knew, they were back in the tent, reprising every blissful night and morning they had spent making love relentlessly together. After so long of fearing she'd always be alone, fearing she had alienated the only person who genuinely had cared for her, now she knew she'd live every day ahead with the bright awareness that she would have him by her side…

No one had truly expected Sokka to return with his sword. Zuko, personally, hadn't expected him to return with Azula, to begin with, having even set up a whole squad to track down his sister once she inevitably escaped…

Yet what no one could have ever anticipated was for Sokka and Azula to not only have found Space Sword, but to have found their way to each other just as well: Zuko spent months convinced their engagement announcement was but another of their joint pranks… even up until the very wedding ceremony. Teasing him further, after first kissing her new husband, Azula had promised Zuko that their first child would be called 'Prank', in his honor… and only then did the reality of the situation hit him, despite he was still quite far from being able to process it fully. Katara, of course, wasn't in much better shape… and yet, to everyone's surprise, she eased up on them faster if only because of Sokka's genuine happiness. Seeing him back in good spirits, even if they mostly were related to the woman he couldn't seem to stop holding in his arms ever since they returned from their long journey, was enough of a relief that she managed to overlook, at least most times, that her new sister-in-law was none other than who she was…

And as fun as their reactions were, nothing pleased either the princess or her new consort as much as their relationship itself did. Opening their hearts to each other fully, thoroughly understanding what their feelings were, had changed their worlds for the better. It had started as a quest for a sword… and instead it had shaped into the reforging of a love and the beginning a blissful journey that would span for a lifetime.

#sokkla #sokklasaturday #sokkla saturdays #sokka #azula #if you people ever thought #I'd already exercised all my ability to give them angst in a forest #... well you were wrong #this story has actually been on the back burner since like... my earliest fandom days #I always got to writing other things instead and eventually this dropped off the list of priorities #welp #it got right back to it once I saw that prompt #and now here we are #something like 7 years later but #it is done #my first rendition of finding a certain Space Sword #(sorta smutty though I'm still tryin' to save up the best for Yakuza AU)

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untilmynextstory · 4 years ago

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CHAPTER ONE: HOME

WORD COUNT: 18K

WATTPAD | FANFICTION | AO3

Also I think I might only be posting the first chapter on here. I’m not sure yet. It’s just these chapters are really long! I’ll see the response this gets if I will post the second chapter on here.

The best part about returning from a run is simply coming home. When he was younger and unattached, Jackson Teller thoroughly enjoyed the perks of the runs. The women, booze, and the vast road had always been something to look forward too. Although it’s hard to believe that it has been only six years since he has last indulged in the many pleasurable vices the club has to offer.

Those vices paled in comparison of the treasures that waited for him in his small three bedroom ranch. Jax wanted something bigger – much vaster. With his lifestyle, he had the means to spoil those he loved.

Even if he would have preferred a stripper pole in the bedroom, Jax would never look to replace his quaint home that rests at the end of the cul de sac. It’s hidden by the redwood trees and the dark brick exterior blends in perfectly. If it wasn’t for the cars and the bright childlike paraphilia that decorated the lawn, most would probably miss it.

The growl of his bike echoes throughout the neighborhood. He has learned to ignore the looks that peek through curtains and how some neighbors still shoo their kids back inside when he rides through the settlement of family homes courtesy of Elliot Oswald. It’s one of the few developments that the club allowed to pass through.

He pulls into his designated spot in a long driveway. After the week-long run, his bike is in a serious need of a wash. He would put the task off onto the Prospect, but instead he thinks it would be good to do it at home.

He grabs his bag filled with dirty clothes and a few souvenirs as he enters the house through the side door, which leads him into the laundry room. He immediately throws his clothes in one of the baskets.

Leaving the laundry room, he stands in the hallway and his eyes sweep around. He expects to hear the platter of feet and maybe the TV shouting some Disney song. The house is quiet – seemingly empty.

Yet, a quirk settles on his lips. He walks into the kitchen and places his pack on the kitchen island. If the house wasn’t so quiet, probably would have missed the shushing sound followed by childlike laughter.

Jax plays along anyways.

He exaggerates his movements as he opens cabinet doors and checks behind pillows as he questions if anyone is home.

The first bedroom painted a baby blue color covered in posters of various athletes and a few drawings of Harley motorcycles is empty.

The second bedroom painted a lavender color with silver accents. He had expected his life to be overtaken by princesses and tiaras. Yet, the only thing he has been subjected too is glitter tutus.

The laughter gets a little bit louder as he gets closer to the final destination. He knocks very loudly on his bedroom door before he opens it.

It’s instantaneous that he is attacked by his two kids.

“We got you, Daddy!” They shout between their laughter and giggles. Jax laughs along with them as he holds them tight in his arms. He looks at his oldest first, who has his blue eyes. It’s been six years since he has become a father. Six years that made coming home from runs the best part from going on them. He runs his hands through his son’s dark wavy hair before he presses a kiss to his head. Outside of the eyes, Nathan is all his mother.

He turns his attention to his youngest, his four year old daughter, who owns his whole heart. Her brown eyes are a carbon copy of her mother’s whiskey ones, shining brightly as she tugs at him. “I missed you so much, Daddy.”

Jax’s smile is bright. “I missed you too, Babygirl.” He hugs Kaylee tighter. She squirms in his hold as she presses a kiss to his lips as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Did you miss, Mama, too?” Kaylee wonders as her blonde furrow in seriousness.

A shadow overtakes them and Jax looks in the doorway. Alma stands in the doorway with a fond, proud smile as she watches the scene. Jax’s hold slackens around the kids. He places another kiss on each of their foreheads. His hands grip the familiar curves of his wife and he answers his daughter’s question as he presses a burning kiss to his wife’s plump lips.

The kiss barely lasts 3 seconds when he feels small hands tugging at them while Nathan exclaims gross.

Jax pulls away as he looks at Kaylee. “Daddy, you going to come swimming!” It’s then Jax realizes both of their kids are clad in their swimwear. The in ground pool they added last summer seemed to worth the money as he is sure his kids are going to turn into fish with how much they swim.

“Sure, but I think Mom needs to help me with my swimming trunks.”

Nathan scrunches his nose as he grabs his sister’s hand. “Come on.”

Kaylee gladly follows her older brother.

Alma huffs as she turns back to go into their bedroom, she is already wearing her bathing suit. The two-piece that is an electric pink is something he doesn’t recognize. Jax surmises it must be new. He closes the door and knows that he is on a serious time crunch. His kutte is thrown onto the bed.

Alma can barely squeak a Hi before he attacks her lips. His body hums in the familiar taste of oranges that he associates with Alma.

His hands find purchase in her short brown hair as he nips and sucks on her pouty lips. A week was nothing in the grand scheme of things. The longest run he had ever been on was a month as the club had managed to open a few charter on the East Coast. That run had been brutal as Nathan had only been 3 months than. He told Clay that he would never go on a run that lasted for more than two weeks.

Alma pulls back, “Jax, baby, slow down.” She whispers against his lips.

“I missed you.” He tells her as he places another softer kiss to her lips. They’ve been married for five years and Jax didn’t think the wanting would ever stop.

“Me too, but we have tonight.” She smiles at him and her arms wrap around him. He can’t help the wince as she hits a particularly tender spot.

She frowns and pulls back from him. “What happened?”

Jax chews on his lip. He had hoped he would’ve been able to hide the bruises from him a little bit longer. He honestly almost forgot about the bruises he received three days ago.

“I’m fine.” He tells her. He hopes to distract her with a kiss, but she creates a bigger distance between them.

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine, babe.”

She folds her arms across her chest. Jax sighs as he kicks off his shoes. The room is quiet as he goes and removes his socks, jeans, and boxers and replaces them with swimming trucks. He removes his white t-shirt last. He exposes the sets of bruises that dot his skin like a grotesque connect the dots his daughter loves to do.

Alma is at his back. Her touch gentle as she skims across a bruise that is near his kidney. “Was it the Mayans?”

“Don’t stress about it.” He dismissively.

“How can I not?” She retorts.

Jax turns and brings her into a hug. He places a kiss on her forehead. “Everything will be fine.” The words don’t bring any comfort as she is stiff in his hold. “Just be careful and keep your gun on you.”

Alma pulls back completely and he can there are many questions on her tongue, but she doesn’t ask. “Nathan’s grounded.”

“What?” Jax says mostly from the complete 180 in turn of where the conversation has turned. “Why?”

“He got into a fight at school. Won’t tell me why so until then he is on punishment.” Alma says tiredly. Jax wants to question why she didn’t tell him this fact during their many phone calls, but he doesn’t. “I’m tired of being the bad guy,” she tells him softly.

“I’ll talk to him.”

Alma gives him a small smile.

“Mom! Dad! Come on!” Both chuckle and they go to exit their room, but Jax grabs her wrist and pulls her back. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The great thing about an indoor pool is that it works wonders in tiring out his kids. Nights like these where he is anxious for uninterrupted hours with his wife makes him not regret spending over a grand for the concrete pond.

He watches as Nathan does his night time routine, which consists of feeding the fishes in his room. He is too big for a night light now, but he still sleeps with his Mr. Toad. It was the first thing Jax ever bought for his son. Considering his reaction to finding out Alma was pregnant, he had a lot of groveling to do and the stuffed toad was in the one in plenty of the apology gifts.

He tucks his son in bed. He can hear Kaylee and Alma from the bathroom as they brush their teeth. He looks back to his son, who is already six years old.

Fatherhood wasn’t something Jax never seriously thought about. He knew his mother wanted him to have kids. Gemma wanted the grandkids despite never liking any of the girls he hung around with. Even then with the promise of free pussy why would anyone want to settle down and have babies. Babies meant a bigger responsibility that he felt was greater than the club.

And then it only led to one time of him not using protection for him to enter the world of fatherhood. He doesn’t regret having a kid at 18. His children are something he would never regret.

Fatherhood just brought a lot of responsibilities, or crisis to his state of mind. When he held Nathan in his arms for the first time Jax had been confronted with his own morality and mortality.

Nathan despite his blue eyes was all his mother. Even down to their temperament and mannerisms. Nathan was Alma. He was the best part of him, but all of Alma. Jax knows the life he leads. He knows that Nathan is expected to follow into his footsteps. He isn’t going to say he doesn’t expect the same thing out of his son. But at the same time, his son could have more.

He can’t picture his son coming home with bruises or killing a man in cold blood. But Nathan is a part of him; he has a part of him that has violence coated in his DNA.

Jax sits on the edge of his son’s twin sized bed. “Are you going to tell me what you did in school to get in trouble?”

Blue eyes peek up shyly from behind the comfort of his cover. Nathan’s fist clutches the navy blue comforter as he turns on his side still facing him. “Mom worries too much.”

Jax places his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Your mother loves you.”

Nathan nods his head as he clutches Mr. Toad.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to talk about this.” Jax tells his son as he gets up from the bed. He is at the door and getting ready to turn off the light when Nathan speaks up.

“You love Mom too, right?”

“With my whole heart.”

Nathan smiles before his eyes close.

Jax makes his way next door where Kaylee is already tucked in, but he finds a stack of books on her nightstand.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to read all these,” Jax tells her as he skims through some of them.

Kaylee smiles, her missing teeth noticeable. “Why not?” She can’t stop smiling to even pout.

“What are we going to read for tomorrow?”

Kaylee’s eyes go wide like a deer. “Will you be here tomorrow?” She asks softly.

A lump forms in Jax’s throat. “Of course.”

“Okay, we can read the story about the mouse and cookie.”

“Sure thing.”

Kaylee falls asleep by the 10th page. Jax smiles as he places a kiss on her head and turns on her nightlight.

Turning off the hallway light, his bedroom is encased by the moonlight. Alma is already laying in bed. He frowns, but he wonders if this is a slight payback for his reluctance to tell her about the bruises on his back. He strips down to his boxer briefs and slides behind his wife. He sees she is only wearing a cami and cotton panties. He concludes she must not be too mad.

He wraps his arms around her bringing her back into his chest. He just holds her relishing in her weight and warmth against him.

“The kids are growing up so fast,” he tells her. It feels like only yesterday that he was holding a newborn Kaylee in his arms wondering what in the hell he was going to do with a girl.

“Your mom said the same thing.”

“Yeah, and what does she have to say?” Jax already has a feeling on what his mother had told his wife.

“She was wondering if we planned to move into a bigger house.”

The fact that her husband hesitates makes Alma turn over to face him. His eyes tell her everything she needs to know. Despite the fact both of their children were unplanned, she knows her husband wants more. She still is unsure if it’s more from his mother’s urges or the need for her to be fat.

“I wouldn’t mind a bigger house,” he answers. Alma has mixed feelings on expanding their family.

Alma does not nor will ever regret her children, but she can’t deny that she feels as if she was penalized for having babies by 18 and being married by 17. Even worse, the father was the blonde biker Jax Teller and now her husband. She had fulfilled the stereotype that she fought against all her life. She had plans. She wanted a life outside of the world she grew up in. She still doesn’t know why she had let Jax Teller into her bed. She knows she can’t deny that she loves him, by being pregnant at 16 and practically having to settle down wasn’t something she wanted.

Since she was 17, she had been a stay at home wife and mother. With Kaylee starting school this year, Alma yearns for more than just being a mother and wife. She loves her husband, her family, and even the club, but she doesn’t have one thing for herself. She has nothing outside of it.

She takes a deep breath. “I was thinking of looking for a job.”

Alma knew from a young age college wasn’t something she wanted. Instead, she found herself doing acrylic nails. Since she was young she had been doing her mom’s, most of the old lady’s nearby including Gemma and Luann, as well as a few neighbors. She had a steady side hustle to maybe even open her own shop. Though she thinks she will try her luck at applying at a few shops in Stockton to learn the business first. She couldn’t let her license go to waste.

Jax doesn’t say anything. “Besides, after Kaylee being in the hospital…” She adds.

Jax’s hold tightens. Kaylee inheriting the family flaw was hard on all of them. They were lucky she was even able to get into school. Gemma had been worried about the germs and the toll of letting strangers take care of her granddaughter.

“If we have no more kids, I’ll be fine with the two we have. Though I’m not going to object to more.”

“And for me to start working?”

“I’ll support you with whatever you want to do.” He tells her earnestly. She’s relieved that he doesn’t suggest that she could just work at the garage.

Alma smiles wide and she rewards her husband with a sweet, wet kiss.

Alma knows there is not a lot to do in her days. One, her day is catered to a four year old. There is a lot of cartoon, coloring, and sometimes temper tantrums. Most days, Alma spends her morning trying to teach her daughter her letters, numbers, and colors. Afternoons are when they would frequent parks, or run errands with Gemma for various things. Today they are venturing to Stockton. Alma is dressed in a modest summer dress that can pass for business attire. She even dressed Kaylee in a pretty little dress and blonde hair in two buns. Jax telling her that he had to actually work on the garage said he could take Nathan to teach him some things.

Alma is in a very good mood despite her sparse resume, but she has a portfolio of the work she had done throughout the years. She knows she shouldn’t really expect anything, but the fact she is doing something for herself is all that matters.

She knows that the only thing at her disadvantage is she isn’t a regular at Claws. It’s a very upscale nail salon. The parking lot is packed and as she eyes the Mercedes and Hummers in the lot she feels very inadequate. She grips Kaylee’s hand a little bit tighter as she walks through the sleek glass doors.

Inside is cool and the interior is cold from the harsh geometrical designs from the lights to the sharp edges of the desks. Alma knows she can’t be picky and this place is currently hiring. Besides, her work will speak for itself and maybe if hired she will break down and let Gemma take her on a real shopping spree.

Alma approaches the receptionist desk with a bright smile where a blonde with pink glossy lips and fake boobs greet her warmly.

“Hi, are you in for an appointment or are you a walk in?” The receptionist asks.

“Actually, I saw in the paper that you were hiring. I was hoping I could apply?” Alma questions.

“We actually might even be able to get you an interview right now. We are in desperate need of help.” The blonde informs her. “I’m Holly, by the way.”

“Alma Teller, but I have my daughter with me,” Alma looks down as Kaylee looks up and waves at Holly.

“She is so cute, but that will be no problem. Our manager, Kim, is here right now. The wait will only be a couple minutes.”

Alma isn’t able to reply as Holly leaps from her desk and walks across the room to an office that overlooks the whole salon.

Alma turns her attention to her daughter, who is thankfully being good. “What do you say about some ice cream after this?”

Kaylee’s eyes go wide. “Mint chocolate chip!”

“Up even with graham crackers.” Alma promises. Alma digs in her purse for her daughters leapfrog to at least keep her distracted enough for this possible interview.

The sound of heels clacking against the ceramic floor brings her attention to a tall lanky woman in a black suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is in a severe bun.

“Holly tells me you’re looking for a job?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me. Holly can watch your daughter.”

“Are you sure?” Alma asks as she looks from Kim to the receptionist.

“It’s fine. I’ll sit her right here so you can see her from the office.” Holly promises.

Alma nods her head and whispers to her daughter she will only be a couple minutes. Kaylee is too consumed by her leapfrog to care.

Alma follows Kim to her office. The salon only has a handful of clients, but she can tell by the shine of their rings it’s more about quality than quantity.

Alma isn’t even in her seat before Kim speaks to her. “Have you ever worked at a salon before?”

“Uh, no. I have not.”

“You’re applying to be a nail artist right? I don’t need another Holly.”

Alma clutches her portfolio and offers it to Kim. “I work from my house. I’ve been doing nails since I was a kid.”

Kim takes the folder and opens it. “You barely look older than 18.”

“Thank you, but I’m 22.”

Kim is quiet as she flips through the portfolio. Alma hopes she is impressed. “Why did you decide to wait until now to work?”

“I have two kids. I am a stay at home mom and wife. My youngest, Kaylee, is starting school. I decided it was time.”

“Married and two kids at 22,” Kim whistles. “Tell me the differences in gel or acrylic nails?”

“Gel nails have a more natural look with a glossy finish. And if primed right, gel has no damage to the nail bed that acrylic would. Gel nails cure faster and more flexible than acrylic nails. Although, acrylic nails are more durable and sturdy.”

“If hired, considering your lack of previous work, you will go through a three week trial period where we can fire you without just cause. Your work is good.”

“Thank you.”

“You from Stockton?”

“I live in Charming.”

“Really? I heard…” Kim clears her throat. “Alma Teller tell me more about yourself.”

“Well as you know I have two kids. My oldest, my son, is six. My youngest, Kaylee, is four. I’ve been married for 5 years to their father. I’ve lived in Charming all my life. I’ve been doing nails since I was young. My mom and various friends and family I’ve used for practice. And now I’m looking for something to be outside of a wife and mother. I want to improve my skills as a nail artist.” Alma tells her and as she sweeps her hair out of her face she watches as Kim narrows at her tattoo on her left bicep.

“If hired, we don’t allow tattoos in the shop.”

Alma looks down at her crow. “Okay.” She knows it will be easy to cover up.

“You said you’re from Charming, right?” Kim asks again.

Alma nods her head, but dread feels her belly.

“Alma Teller, I know that last name.” She watches as recognition washes over her features. “Does your husband own that mechanic garage? The one with that motorcycle gang?”

“It’s a club. A motorcycle club,” Alma refutes on instinct. She knows where this is already heading.

Kim eyes her silently as she closes her portfolio. “Leave your portfolio with Holly. Someone will get back to you.”

She still takes Kaylee for her ice cream. It takes everything in Alma not to cry like a baby at her first failed interview. Maybe she needs to develop thicker skin. She knows she needs too. Having Jax’s name is going to follow her around especially outside of Charming. People in Charming tolerate the club, but their hold doesn’t go beyond the borders. Her mother had warned her about this when her pregnancy test turned out positive with Nathan.

Alma doesn’t want to mope in the house nor does she want to spend it on the bench outside of the clubhouse. Instead, she drives over to the Winston household. Thankfully Donna is still home with a newborn Ellie.

Alma is sitting in the backyard as she watches Kenny run around with Kaylee. The only comfort that Alma had during her pregnancy with Nathan was that Donna was pregnant with her at the same time. At least Donna had been 18 and a few months shy from graduating high school. Alma had been the one to walk the halls with a big belly as whispers and snide comments followed her for being a biker whore. After all, Jax had managed to talk his way into her pants when he was on one of his numerous breaks with his high school girlfriend, Tara.

“Al, I think you should just open your own shop. You already have clientele. You have the talent.” Donna tells her. Alma leaves out the part of the interview when the woman realized her connection to the club. The club is still a little bit of a sore spot between Donna and Opie and Alma doesn’t want to add any more fuel to it.

She smiles at her friend’s supportive words. Sometimes, she is envious of Donna. Donna still had managed to have her independence from Opie despite the marriage and baby at 18. Donna had a good job working as a receptionist at Oswald Lumber. Opie loved her wholeheartedly. She and Jax didn’t have the most conventional start of a relationship.

“I don’t know…”

“What’s stopping you?” Donna inquires. “Kaylee is starting school. Nathan is 6. They aren’t babies. You need your own life too ya know.”

“I know.”

Donna places Ellie in a swing and shields her from the sun. Donna’s eyes narrow. “Is Jax not being supportive?”

“He is. He is. Maybe I’m just a little bit scared.” Alma admits.

“Alma, you need to start doing things for yourself. You take care of Jax, the kids…you need to start taking care of you.”

Alma picks at the hem of her dress. Alma thinks that is part of the problem. Her whole love has been so consumed by Jax she doesn’t know anything else. As proven earlier, her identity is seemingly tied to Jax and the club.

“I’ll think about it. Maybe start looking for some spaces. Go to the community college and take a couple business classes.”

Donna smiles and gives her knee a squeeze. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“So unsure of yourself. Everything okay between you and Jax?”

“We’re fine,” Alma insists.

Donna eyes her, but doesn’t press. “Nathan, say why he got into that fight?”

Alma sighs. “No. Jax said that he would talk to him.”

“He’s a boy. Stuff like this happens.” Donna soothes.

Alma purses her lips. “It’s just Nathan would tell me everything…”

Donna gives her a knowing smile. “Nathan will always be a mommy’s boy, Al. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Alma snorts. “That is so not it.”

Donna chuckles. “Sure it’s not.”

“It’s not!” Alma protests.

Donna shakes her head. “Hey, do you know what the guys did on the run?”

Alma’s smile dies and she thinks about the fading bruises on her husband. He still hasn’t said how he managed to acquire those. Now she’s only curious as to what happened to Opie to make Donna wonder as well.

“No, I don’t.”

Donna frowns. “I’m worried. I know…I know some things.” Donna knows that club isn’t exactly legal. “I found a bloody bandana in Opie’s pack. His clothes reeked of smoke.”

“Would you want to know the truth, Donna?”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t recognize Opie if I did.” Donna confesses before the cries of Ellie wanting her mother’s milk interrupts.

“Dad, can we please please please have lunch on the roof?” Nathan begs as he follows Jax into the clubhouse.

Jax decided to bring Nathan to work with him today. There was no pressing club issue and it gave Jax time to bond with his son. Jax isn’t a great mechanic like his own father, Clay, and even Opie, but he enjoys the work. He enjoys that it gives him something to teach his own son. Something so innocent.

With the large lunch box in his hands, he looks at his son’s blue imploring eyes. For some reason, Alma did not like the thought of her babies on the roof. He knows better than to take Kaylee. He thinks motherhood has made Alma a little anal in some respect. “You better not tell your mother.” He warns as they go to the ladder.

Nathan knows better than to stand too close to the edge as they find the clusters of crates. They use a crate to make a makeshift table. Nathan preferred to sit on the ground while Jax sat on the blue milk crate.

Their lunch contained two chicken salad sandwiches, Gatorade, cookies, cheese and crackers, and a small container of fruit salad. Nathan’s portions were obviously smaller than his.

It’s quiet between father and son as they eat their lunch. Jax looks out across the lot where he can see the bustling bodies below and the expanse of Charming before them. He is brought back to his own childhood where his father would bring him up here. Jax has seen many sunsets and sunrises on this roof. It’s one of the few places he can go to escape and actually feel calm.

It seems his son feels the same way.

Jax turns to Nathan, who is greedily eating his food. Some of the chicken salad is smeared on his cheek. He realizes his son is losing some of the exaggerated features of childhood even at six. He can see under the baby fat that his cheeks will be of Alma’s. His straight nose will be his own to match his eyes. He knows his son will most likely inherit his tall height compared to Alma’s short stature. He watches as Nathan pushes back his wavy hairs from dangling in his eyes with a scowl.

“You ready to get a haircut?”

Nathan shakes his head. “I want my hair to be as long as yours.”

Jax smiles as he pushes back his straight blonde locks. The tips are brushing the edges of his shoulders. The only reason his hair is this long is out of neglect. He hasn’t just had Alma cut it for him yet.

“You might need to put in a ponytail soon.”

Nathan’s nose scrunches. “Then I will look like Kaylee.”

“Your sister is cute.”

“She’s a girl.” Nathan says knowingly.

Jax smiles that Nathan still has his innocence when it comes to the opposite sex. Nathan moves from the floor of the roof and pushes a crate next to him. His boy mimics his movements as they munch on their cookies and overlook the small town.

“You going to tell me what happened at school?”

Nathan frowns and he begins picking at the seams of his shorts. “A boy pushed me so I pushed him back.”

“Is that all?” Jax presses.

“He said…”

“He said what?”

“He said that we were white trash. So I told him to shut up. Then he pushed me.” Nathan reveals. “Am I in trouble?” Nathan asks with watery eyes.

Jax shakes his head. “No, you’re not. But next time he says something, you need to tell your teacher okay? Your mom will worry if you get into more fights.”

Nathan nods his head.

The two play I-Spy and soon point out familiar landmarks. That leads into Jax telling his son about treasured memories of him and his father.

“Will you lead the club with Uncle Opie?” Nathan asks after Jax regales a story about him and Opie thinking they were mechanics and took apart their father’s bike out of curiosity.

“One day,” Jax tells his boy. He knows Nathan isn’t stupid to some of the on goings around the club. Despite Alma being raised in this life like him, it wasn’t easy. There were nights he would come home reeking of gunpowder that would lead to loud spats that were unfortunately witnessed by Nathan. The worst was when Jax had been in a rush to leave from the house and Nathan had seen him stuffing a gun in his ankle bracelet.

Jax still remembers that fight with Alma, who was heavily pregnant by that point with Kaylee. He was surprised she didn’t induce labor with how she chewed a piece out of his ass. But they both knew it would come to a point where they could hide the truth from their boy. There would come a point where Kaylee would need to know the truth too.

“One day soon?”

Jax shrugs. Clay wasn’t giving up the gavel soon and at this point Jax wasn’t sure he even wanted it. He knew it would pull him away from his family more than being a simple patch would. He remembers the nights his dad wouldn’t make it home due to business. How his mom would clutch a rosary that she thought was hidden beneath bracelets or gold necklaces. “Not for a little while.”

“When can I be a member of the club?”

“Not until you finish high school,” Jax replies. Unlike him, he wasn’t going to allow his son to get a GED. He knows Alma isn’t either. It will probably be the one stipulation his son will need to follow if he wants to be a patch.

“But that’s in forever!”

“It’ll go by fast,” Jax soothes. He wraps his arm around his boy. “But I want you to be a kid forever.”

“I don’t.” Nathan pouts. “I want to be just like you, Dad.”

Every Sunday, they had dinner at Gemma’s. There was no exception, but once a month out of those Sundays, they had a Potluck. All the members of the club (including the mechanics) and their family were invited to Gemma’s.

And this Sunday happened to be one of those. Alma had grown up looking forward to these Sundays. Even more, she remembers being doting on like a princess on these Sundays. After all, she was the only daughter of a First 9 member. She’s Chico Vellenueva’s daughter.

Alma is working on adding cheese to the anti-pasta salad when she hears Gemma’s heels smacking the floor.

Thankfully, she and Gemma get along. They butt heads occasionally, but she has never received the cold shoulder or passive aggressiveness that Gemma bestowed on girls Jax would bring home. She assumes she got brownie points for giving her grandchildren and managing to tame her son.

Even then, Gemma was an aunt to her growing up. She remembers wanting to be like Gemma growing up. Poised, elegant, but deadly like a viper and sharp like thorn on a rose.

“You hear from your mother lately?” Gemma asks.

Her mother, Ana Rodriguez, her father’s favorite croweater, was one of the first croweaters that had managed to snag an important member. She gave them hope that sucking dick could actually lead them somewhere. Despite that, Alma is considered royalty. That royalty is what she sometimes felt made her and Jax obligated to get married when he got her pregnant.

Her mother and father were together until Alma was five before they split up. Her mom was tired of the life and wanted a man that was home and most of all faithful. Despite having Alma, her father never wanted to marry her mother.

She knows there was a time she didn’t see her father for a few months. She was living with her grandmother when Gemma Teller had found them. She doesn’t know what Gemma said, but the next day she was back in Charming. Her mother and Gemma have been enemies ever since. She only knows that the ice had thawed a bit when her father became the first casualty of the Mayan War.

Though the frigidness returned when Alma became pregnant, her mom advocated for an abortion. She didn’t want her tied down to Jax so young. Her mother didn’t want her to be with anyone from the club. She knows her mom is still disappointed in her decision to marry Jax. It seemed before the ink was even dry on her marriage license her mom had moved out of Charming to live a different life. She was too young to be a grandma, she said. Gemma never forgive her mother for that or for Ana turning her back on the club.

“A few days ago. She talked to the kids. Told us about a wonderful vineyard she is at with a boyfriend. It’s very kid friendly.”

Gemma snorts. “What in the hell are kids going to do at a vineyard?”

Alma shrugs her shoulders. “Crush grapes?”

“Sometimes, I wonder about your mother. She acts like it’s a burden to come to Charming and see her grandchildren.”

“At least she calls. Sends them things. We video chat. They know her.”

Gemma purses her lips together. She knows there is more on her tongue to say, but she doesn’t waste any more breath on her mother. “Jax mentioned you were thinking about going back to work.”

Alma fights the eye roll. Her husband has very loose lips. She did not want Gemma to find out about this until things were more concrete. She only nods her head as she goes to the fridge to add the pepperoni.

“You know I could use help in the garage.” Gemma offers.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Alma wants something outside of the club. Besides, she does appreciate some distance from her husband.

Gemma places a hand on her shoulder. “I know things can be hard and sometimes a bit lonely, but you’re not alone, sweetheart. You do have a good husband and a good life, don’t forget that either.”

Friday means no kids until Sunday morning. Gemma keeps the kids on the weekends. It’s more of a break for her than Jax. Of course, depending on Jax’s schedule they would keep the kids, but more often than night, Alma looks forward to the weekends.

After spending the day cleaning her empty house with her glass of wine, Alma strips out of her sweats and a forgotten oversized shirt of Jax’s. She makes the water hot enough that her skin will be pink and fog the shower in less than a minute.

She begins her shower with washing her short brown hair. She had cut it short more for convenience. She was getting tired of the hair in her face as she ran after two kids. She knows Jax misses her long hair. She thinks she misses it a bit herself and thinks she might try to grow it out. Maybe even put a few blonde highlights in it. She scrunches her nose as that would mean matching Gemma.

She sighs as her fingers massage her scalp. Maybe she will dye all of it blonde. She is rinsing off the suds when she hears the slap of metal hitting her bathroom floor. It’s seconds later when the shower door opens.

“Can you have it any hotter in here?” Jax comments as he steps in.

“No one asked you to be in here.” She replies as she turns around and steps under the full spray of the water to get rid of the excess water.

Jax steps under the spray and she huffs as he steals most of the water making him laugh. “Did you see the kids?” She asks as she grabs her soap.

“Yeah, stopped by my mom’s with Clay. They were already in their pajamas. I was practically shoved out the door for interrupting their time with Grandma.”

Alma smiles and she pauses her cleaning as she wraps her soapy arms around her husband. “Well don’t worry I won’t kick you out…along as you behave yourself.”

“And what happens if I’m a very bad boy,” he eyes with a waggle of his eyebrow.

“You’ll get punished.” She tells him as she bite his nipple causing him to jump.

Alma laughs as she goes back to rubbing soap across her body. Jax moves around her to grab his own soap. The two are in a comfortable silence as they shower. Of course, Jax can’t help himself and get a few gropes here and there. But outside of shower sex being complicated, this had been a routine of theirs after the birth of Nathan and even more so after Kaylee. They found taking a shower is the only time they could talk and enjoy the company of each other without one of their kids wedged between them.

“You wanna take a ride?” Jax asks as he begins washing his hair. Alma is surprised that Jax doesn’t want to stay home on this Friday night.

“Every time we go on a ride, I end up pregnant.” Alma jokes.

Jax’s eyes light up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Alma doesn’t bother replying to his comment. “Is it cold out?”

“Your denim jacket will do,” he tells her as she steps out of the shower.

Alma squeezes her husband tight as he roars on the open road. He knows she prefers the late rides in the night than those during the day. She loves the wind whipping her hair. She even puts her arms out and screams “she’s flying” as he speeds down the highway.

Even before they were married or together, she had always begged Jax to take her on rides. He always obliged especially when he was looking for an escape himself. She loves being on a motorcycle. She loves the freedom of the open road. They are on the border of Charming when Jax stops at the gas station with a small store. He claims he needs more cigarettes even though he promised her that she would quit.

She follows him a few steps behind. She rolls her eyes as he greets the cashier, Louisa. The young blonde seems to be her age, who blushes at his attention. Alma can’t even feel mad as the girl pulls down the front of her shirt to show off a modest cleavage.

“You want anything, darling?”

Alma stuffs her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket as she follows Jax to the aisle he is standing in. By the smirk on his face, she knows it might get him punched. She finds her husband standing in front of the small display of condoms and lubricates.

She looks at her husband with a scowl.

“Hey, you’re the one that isn’t on birth control.” He points out as he skims the different brands and styles.

“I keep track of my days,” she tells him as she slaps his hand as he picks up a box. “I don’t want a warming condom.”

“We never tried that one before.” He says innocently.

“You trying to say my pussy’s cold?”

“Never.” He tells her seriously. He swipes a small pack of the ultra-thin.

“You know, you can buy these by the case. Be a lot cheaper.” She tells him. It’s not like they use them all the time. Just when she is ovulating. She knows that she should just get on birth control especially now that there are more options than the pill.

“Nah.” He brings an arm around her shoulder. “A box at a time keeps me humble.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Jax laughs as he goes to the counter to check out. Louisa’s cheeks are still rosy from Jax’s greeting and Alma spies the white frill peeking from the V-neck of her shirt. She can admit the girl is bold to do that with her standing with Jax.

Jax pays for his things as he follows her out the door.

“I think the cashier has a crush on you,” Alma tells him as they reach his bike.

“What?”

Alma stares at her husband knowingly.

“Your boobs are bigger.” Alma scoffs at him. Jax gives her a wolfish smile as he approaches her. She’s unprepared for the slap on her ass, which he soothes as he rubs it as he pulls her into his chest. “Besides, you know I’m an ass man.”

“Sometime, I really hate you.” She mumbles against his chest.

“No you don’t.” He tells her as his hands weave into her hair. He places a soft kiss to her lips, but she chases his lips as she leans on her tippy toes. He meets her lips again and she doesn’t feel bad if she breaks Louisa’s heart. But Jax is her husband and it is disrespectful to try and flirt with a woman’s husband when she is standing right there.

She’s about to pull back and suggest they go home when the dark sky is lit up. It almost like fireworks are lighting the sky with the booming sky that follows.

Jax’s body goes rigid. “Shit!”

With the explosion at the creek, the joyous mood had been disintegrated. Jax had loosened his lips enough to tell her that it was one of their warehouses. He didn’t elaborate. Yet, as he stayed most of the day at the clubhouse on Saturday to handle the blowback, according to the news and the paper most knew that the blast belonged to SAMCRO. Alma suspected it was the Mayans.

Alma spent the day indoors as she didn’t want to deal with the looks or whispers. Jax didn’t come home late in the night and as he cradled her in his arms, he had offered an apology.

With it being Sunday and not finding the kids at Gemma’s, she had to travel to the Charming Gardens to pick up her kids. This was no doubt a scheming move from Gemma to show the town they had nothing to hide from.

The kids are too busy feeding the ducks to notice her presence as she finds Gemma sitting on a bench watching the scene with a smile.

“You could’ve just dropped them off.” Alma says flatly.

Gemma looks at her from behind her sunglasses. “You need the sun – fresh air.”

“That’s what my backyard is for.”

“Staying in the house only makes you look guilty.” Gemma accuses.

Alma purses her lips as it isn’t about her. It’s about the kids getting the brunt of the blowback. She knows how cruel parents can be and how it trickles down to their children. She can only imagine the nasty things they are already saying. She knows deep down that the fight Nathan got it has to be from a kid repeating the words of his parents.

“Gem –“

Alma’s words are cut off as Nathan’s screams for his sister in the park.

There are times when Jax can fully understand why his mom is crazy overprotective. There is no greater fear or pain than that of bearing witness to your own child’s suffering. He has learned that from the time he had to witness his firstborn stumbling in taking his first small steps.

Though that fear and hypervigilance was magnified with the birth of Kaylee. They had a child with medical needs – critical – needs. With Kaylee’s birth, he had been transported back in time to watching his mother practically live at the hospital with Thomas.

He thought he could connect with that pain his parents were feeling – to simply share it. They all loved Thomas, but now as a father; he can truly feel that pain. It’s a pain that never goes away. Never.

His strides are swift and determined as he walks the halls of St. Thomas. He is more than familiar with the floors of the hospital for the first six months of Kaylee’s life they became a second home.

He finds his mom sitting in a lounge chair, Nathan clutching her as they rock together. Luann is silent as she holds vigil next to Gemma.

Clay, Opie, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs are behind him. He is barely aware of their presence as his mom’s eyes connect with his. This pain she can’t hide from him. Her hold on Nathan becomes tighter as she nods to the door next to her.

He debates if he should comfort Nathan. He debates if he should hold his son, but his mom seems to be enough comfort for now. He moves to the door and can see through the window Alma looking into the adjacent room as they perform surgery on Kaylee.

He clutches the doorknob as he opens it. A blast of cool air and grief hits him. Alma’s whiskey eyes turn to him. They are wide and scared. He is transported back in time to her being only 18 years old and wondering why Kaylee wasn’t wailing when she gave birth. He remembers seeing how blue Kaylee looked and believing his baby girl had been still born before a broken cry escaped her lips before they took her away.

He remembers it being weeks before they could hold their daughter without tubes and wires keeping her alive.

Alma is in his arms immediately. She clings to him and he can feel her tears soaking through his shirt. He clutches her. His hand finds purchase in her brown hair. He wants to say everything will be alright, but he can’t.

Alma pulls back a little as she looks up at him with watery eyes. “They have to run the wire through her leg, up to her heart.”

“What happened?” The only words that he was able to make out from both her and his mother were Kaylee was in the hospital. Both were crying too hard for him to really understand.

“She was playing with Nathan when she just collapsed. I don’t know.” Alma sobs.

It takes everything in Jax not to crumble along with her. He knows that he needs to be strong for his family. He needs to be strong for Alma. He turns his gaze to the operating room. His baby girl is in the center. Wires connected to her to monitor her heart and breathing like it did when she was a newborn.

He can’t help but notice how small and fragile his girl looks as they work to correct her heartbeat. He presses a kiss to Alma’s head. “It's gonna be okay, darlin’.”

“Like she hasn't been through enough shit.” Alma mutters.

Jax tugs on her hair making her look up at him. “She’s going to be okay.”

He receives a watery smile as Alma melts into him.

In the clubhouse getting ready for this current job was the last place Jax wanted to be. He shouldn’t be here really. He should be back at St. Thomas with his family. Kaylee’s surgery was a success and she was staying at the hospital for a couple days as a precaution.

But business still needed to be handled. He would have opted out. Bobby, Tig, or even Chibs could’ve replaced him. This was his job, a simple one that he and Opie had done many times before. He was still weary on Kyle as the man had been distracted by his marital problems. Besides, this retaliation against the Mayans needed to be done. Jax swaps his white sneakers for his black ones. He slips a gun in his ankle holster. To keep some form of anonymity, they are wearing all black and the kuttes are to be left at the clubhouse.

He hopes tonight goes by smoothly. When he left, Kaylee was sleeping and Alma had dozed off as well. Nathan was being spoiled by his mother. Jax takes a seat on the edge of the bed in his former dorm room. He still has meager belongings in here. Extra clothes so the kids don’t smell the gunpowder. He has a drawer for Alma and the kids as well. Pictures of his youth are still stuck on the wall.

A knock comes from the door and Opie pokes his head in. Jax nods his head that it’s safe to come in.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“It’ll be quick.”

“Kyle and I can handle this on our own, ya know. Or Chibs and Tig can be the extra lookout.”

“It’s like you don’t want me to go.”

Opie smiles. “You should be with your family.”

“I am.” Jax tells him as he stands up. “Besides, you know I got your back.”

“Kaylee will be alright, Jax.”

Jax looks up to his best friend with shiny eyes. He feels like shit that he can’t feel that optimism. Kaylee’s heart will always be a problem. He fears his daughter might suffer the same fate as his brother.

“No need to go to that dark space, right now.” Opie cautions.

“I know. I know.” Jax sighs.

“Well lets go set off some fireworks.”

It all happened so fast. They dispatched the guards quickly, set the boom, and as they enjoyed the fruits of their labor. Sirens were on them immediately. Jax doesn’t know how he lost sight of Opie, but all he knew was Kyle had bailed at the first wail of a cop approaching. Kyle had left them stranded. Worst, Opie had gotten arrested.

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning as he walks down the halls of St. Thomas to Kaylee’s room. Clay wasn’t too happy and he had debated on calling church immediately. He knew though that there couldn’t be much they could do this late. They would have to hear from Rosen before they could help Opie. Jax was already advocating for Kyle to lose his fucking patch.

He enters Kaylee’s hospital room to find Alma curled on the chair. There is no convincing his wife to at least sleep at home. She would be back before Kaylee would wake up bright in the morning. Jax walks over to Kaylee where she is sleeping soundly. He watches as her chest goes up and down. He memorized it. He plants a kiss on her forehead. He walks over to Alma. He wants to move her without jostling her too much. He sits beside her on the couch and begins to move her, but she jumps awake.

“Shh, it’s just me.” He soothes.

Alma blinks at him rapidly before her eyes dart over to Kaylee. “She’s still sleeping.” He confirms.

Some tension leaves her shoulders and she moves a bit so he can lay his feet up. She curls on top of him and they tangle their legs together.

“Everything go okay?” She asks sleepily.

“We can talk in the morning.”

Alma’s eyes snap back open and she sits up. “What happened?”

His body sags in the couch. He squeezes his eyes shut before they connect with Alma. “Opie got arrested.”

Alma remembers Gemma telling her that the club goes through cycles. It will be extremely calm – downright boring – then things take off rapidly and they can’t catch a break. Alma never had one of these experiences with Jax. She has been lucky her husband has been able to keep his nose clean for the most part. When he got arrested for Gun Running, he had been lucky to only get probation and house arrest for his first official arrest that got his mug shot on the infamous wall. Sure when he was a teen, Jax spent the night in the slammer for public intoxication and public disturbance with Tara. She had been livid for Jax for even getting caught as she had just found out she was pregnant with Kaylee.

She knows that her situation could be worse. Jax could have done years. Jax could’ve been in Otto’s position, or now Opie’s.

Alma winces as Ellie lets out another high piercing scream. Donna is clearly frazzled about Opie’s arrest.

“Donna, let me hold her. You need a break.”

“No, I can do this myself.” Donna insists as she rocks her infant daughter. She had been surprised Donna even let her through the door. Since Opie’s arrest two days ago, Donna had begun to pull away. There was hard evidence against Opie and they all knew he wasn’t going to walk away with a slap on the rest.

“Don –“

“I don’t need your pity.” Donna snaps. Blue eyes pin her down. Alma isn’t used to this side of Donna. She’s not distraught about Opie being gone. She is fucking angry. Pity isn’t what she has for Donna though. It would be the last thing she would show her friend.

“I’m just trying to help.”

A bitter laugh escapes Donna’s throat. “Help? Can you tell me exactly why my husband was in San Leandro committing arson?”

Alma purses her lips. She finds Kenny staring at them with wide eyes. She looks away from him as she can’t imagine being in Donna’s situation. She doesn’t know how she could even explain to her children why Jax couldn’t come home.

“Donna –“

“Tell me the truth.” Donna begs.

Alma’s nails dig into her palm. She can’t tell Donna why. There are rules to this. It was Opie’s choice not to tell Donna anything. She has to respect that. She can’t undermine a patch even if it’s her job as an old lady to support another one. Donna deserves the truth, but she knows the truth isn’t really going to bring her any peace. It would just give her more ammunition to blame the club.

“It’s not my place,” Alma tells her.

Donna scoffs. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Alma replies. “It’s just that Opie should be the one to tell you this.”

“Why? Because I’m his old lady?” Donna seethes.

“Because it should come from him.”

“You should go.”

Alma feels as if she has been slapped. “Don –“

“I want you to leave.”

Alma seals her mouth shut. It’s best to respect Donna’s wishes and she doesn’t want to make things worse. She grabs her purse and heads to the door when Donna relays her last parting words.

“Tell the club I don’t need their charity.”

Alma arrives at Kaylee's hospital room to find Gemma reading a book to her granddaughter. There are smiles on both of their faces as Gemma changes her voice for each different character. After her visit to Donna, this is a very welcomed sight to see.

Alma smiles as she walks over to the couch and sits. She listens to Gemma finish the story while Kaylee’s eyes become heavy.

The stress and meds have Kaylee more tired than usual. Alma closes her own eyes as she lets her body sag against the couch. The past few days have taken a serious toll on her body. She might need a nap of her own.

“Come take a walk with me.”

Alma’s eyes snap open as Gemma peers down on her. Alma doesn’t really want to leave. She doesn’t want Kaylee to wake up alone in this hospital room. Gemma also isn’t really asking though. Alma moves up from the couch and follows Gemma out to the hall. She thinks they are going to go to the chapel. Despite Gemma never stepping foot in a church since her teen years, she knows Gemma is still a preacher’s daughter at heart. Gemma still prays and looks for guidance.

Instead Gemma takes them outside to a bench. The biker matriarch digs through her enormous leather bag and plucks a cigarette. She’s surprised it isn’t one of her medicinal cigarettes. Alma joins her at the bench silent. Gemma takes a few puffs as they watch the traffic.

“I take it Donna isn’t too happy.” Gemma surmises as she turns to look at her through her sunglasses.

“It’s a shitty situation.”

Gemma hums. “It could be worse.”

Alma knows Opie could be dead. She thinks Donna knows that too. Even then, Gemma has lived through worse with the club. She had lost both of her husbands to significant amounts of prison time. Alma had lost her own father to prison.

Alma has already lost her father and Gemma lost a husband. They know that prison is tame compared to the alternative.

“She should at least know the truth.”

Gemma flicks her cigarette. The ashes smear against the pavement. “That isn’t our place.”

Alma folds her arms around herself. “Is it bad…is it wrong that when I was there all I could think about how lucky I am that Jax didn’t get locked up.”

“No, sweetheart.” Gemma comforts. “But don’t take for granted that it could’ve been.”

Kaylee is discharged from the hospital late in the night. Jax is carrying her to her room to put her right to bed. Nathan follows his father. Alma walks into the kitchen with Kaylee's medical information. She fills a glass of water up and drinks it in a few seconds. She fills it again and downs it again. She places the cup in the sink and opens the folder. She first reads the general summary of Kaylee’s stay along with the new updated meds. She works to memorize the side effects.

But the paper she gives her full attention to is the medical bill. Kaylee will always have medical problems, which translate to bills. Sure, Jax makes more than most, but the money isn’t exactly clean and it is a process to make it something they can really use. Insurance only covers so much.

Most importantly this is a single income home. Jax works. Jax makes the money. He provides financial stability.

Jax walks back into the kitchen and stands behind her. He places his chin on her shoulder and gets a good look at what she is looking at. His arm reaches out and moves the papers. “Don’t worry about that.”

Alma turns. She looks up at her husband. She can see the stress and worry in his eyes not only from Kaylee, but the situation with Opie. They still haven’t really talked about what exactly went down.

“I could be in Donna’s position right now.” She tells him. Unlike Donna, she has no job. She wouldn’t be able to support her children. She wouldn’t know what to do. “I mean…do you even know how long Opie’s sentence is going to be?”

Jax cups her cheek. “Don’t worry about that.”

He silences her response with a kiss. She knows he needs a distraction. She lets herself become one.

5 years.

Opie was sentenced to 5 years in Chino. A six hour drive away. The judge showed no mercy on the husband and father to two small children. Alma was sure that this had been a small consolation to the government as they couldn’t connect the club to any of the charges they had tried to pin to the club for years.

But 5 years minimum, that was the plea deal. Opie wouldn’t be able to get out sooner unless there was some type of miracle. As the sentence had left the judge’s lips, she heard Clay and Jax already muttering that they needed to secure protection fast for Opie quickly.

Alma felt stupid she didn’t think far ahead that he would even need protection. Alma’s worries had been solely focused on Donna.

Despite Donna’s anger, the small brunette didn’t turn away from her support today. She had already seen how her parents were whispering in her ear. The words divorce seemed to be a favorite with her parents. Thankfully, Mary can't hide her disdain to herself about Opie’s choices. Mary may have been an absent – distant mother, but she was making it up through being a grandparent.

Alma closes the door to Donna’s room. Donna had regretfully accepted a valium to calm down and had dozed off. Alma had promised her that she would stay until tomorrow with Mary to keep an eye on the kids. Ellie being a baby doesn’t understand what is going on. Worse is the little girl won’t really know her father outside of prison visits. Kenny knows what is going on, but he doesn’t understand. Alma knows that it won’t hit the little boy until the first visit in Chino. She worries though that those visits will be far and in between. Mary had let it slip Donna had already talked to her about watching the kids more so she could pick up over time.

Alma checks on the kids, who are blissfully sleeping despite everything. She walks into the living room to find Mary folding clothes. Mary seems awfully comfortable and at home in the house.

“She sleeping?” Mary inquires.

“Yeah,” Alma replies as she stands unsure. She bends her fingers. The house is already clean. There’s nothing to really do.

“Sit down. I don’t bite.”

Alma looks at her with wide eyes, but does sit on the couch opposite from her. Even when Mary was around, Alma never was close to her like she was to Gemma or Luann. She always remembers Mary being bitter. At the time, she was too young to really understand why.

Though now, she knows Piney’s infidelities weren’t even close to a secret. Being married to a patch now, she knows it’s not easy. She knows some might say it’s weak to walk away, but she admires those you have the strength to. Alma thinks it would be easier to stay. She had been 14 when Mary had finally got her divorce after years of estrangement.

It seemed Mary didn’t look back until the birth of Kenny 6 years ago.

Mary’s hazel’s eyes scrutinize her. “You look like your mother.”

“Uhh…thanks.”

“It broke her heart when you got pregnant by Jax, no less.” Mary adds. “You were only a child. He knew better.”

Alma resists the urge to roll her eyes. She already knows her mother’s feelings about the father of her children and her relationship with him.

“Your mother and I speak from experience. Don’t dismiss our knowledge.” Mary adds. “Do you see what Donna is going through? It could’ve been you.”

“You think I don’t know that.” Alma protests.

“Just because you have children with Jax doesn’t mean you have to be with him.” Mary elaborates. “This life is just pain and suffering. Look at Donna, Luann, your mother, and hell even Gemma.”

“You only talk about this when times are bad.” Alma refutes weakly. Everyone is ready to hurdle the greatest insults when times are regrettably bloody. Yet, there is only silence when the bank account becomes heavy. When there are riches to indulge in.

Mary shakes her head. “I wanted Opie out of this, but he went running back to his father. This club will always come first to all of them. As a mother, do you think I wanted this for my son? Do you want this for your own son?”

Alma feels a ball forming in her throat. Of course she wants more for her son – children. But as a mother she can only do so much without stifling or hindering their child from being their own person. “All I know is that whatever choice my son makes I wouldn’t abandon him. I would be there to support him and guide him even when he is wrong.”

The clubhouse is quiet. They had already known what Opie’s sentence was going to be. He had taken a plea bargain. There wasn’t going to be any surprising developments. No judge was going to grant leniency. Opie was doomed from the moment he got arrested.

But there is someone Jax can lay the blame on. There is someone who should be in jail right now and not his best friend. The club hadn’t decided to make any decisions yet. They wanted to be focused on Opie. Give their full attention to his best friend and how they were going to provide protection for him in prison. How they were going to support Donna for these next five years. Yet, for Jax it took everything in his power to not kill Kyle from where he stood. The vote on what to do with Kyle wasn’t going to be until Sunday night. It was only Tuesday.

Jax takes another swing from his sweating beer bottle. He knows Alma is going to stay the night over at Donna’s and his kids are with his mom. He thinks after a few more drinks he might just make the journey over to Opie’s. He knows if the positions were reversed that Opie would be with Alma and his kids. He takes another drink of his beer and finishes it. The Prospect takes it and quickly replaces it with another one.

Jax holds the bottle as he turns around. The depressed mood doesn’t stop a party. It’s not the loud ones they are used to entertaining. But the booze, weed, and scantily clad women still roam around the room.

Nothing like losing a brother, thankfully to just prison, to make them appreciate their freedom and the overabundance of pussy.

Jax ignores the eyes wandering over his melancholy frame. Despite Alma’s constant presence and the signs of a happy and satisfying marriage, women still try to tempt him to stray into their bed. He thinks the only activity he might participate in is the ring. Since Happy came into town, he knows that the nomad won’t hold his punches either. The only thing he would have to worry about is Alma’s fretting and narrowed eyes as she scolds him about what in the hell he would explain to their kids about his owies.

Maybe he should just leave. After everything with Opie and Kaylee, he needs to be with his wife and his kids. It’s not too late and he still can stop by his mom’s before heading to be with Alma.

He swallows the rest of his beer and ignores the slight brain freeze he gets. He moves from the bar.

“You headin’ home, Jackie Boy?’ Chibs asks as he joins him on the way to the door.

“Yeah, I’m going to check on the kids then to Alma.”

Chibs grips his shoulders. “We’ll get through this, ya hear me.”

“I know.” Jax tells him with a small smile. He just needs to be strong for Ope’s family and for Opie.

Chibs smiles as they exit the clubhouse. The sun is low and in 20 minutes the streetlights will kick on. His kids are probably going to get ready for a movie and popcorn.

“Jax?”

Chibs smile falls and Jax’s body goes still. The few who lingered outside go deathly quiet as they look back and forth between Jax and the owner of the voice.

Jax makes a fist as for the first time in weeks he has looked at Kyle. He took it upon himself to bar Kyle from meetings and the clubhouse until Opie’s sentence. But now…Jax sees red.

One second Jax is standing next to Chibs and the next he has gripped Kyle by his short as he slams him onto the table.

He doesn’t register the table collapsing under their weight. How the spilt beer is creating a puddle around them.

Jax and Kyle are similar in weight and height. However, Jax is leaner while Kyle has an extra couple pounds with his bulk. They all used to work out together. Him, Kyle, and Opie spent hours in the gym together, so Jax is familiar with Kyle’s weak spots. Jax has the advantage of surprise and his fucking rage as he straddles Kyle and his hands latch onto the man’s neck and restrict his air ways.

Kyle doesn’t go for punches as he tries to pry his hands away from his neck. Jax is partially aware of the silence.

Though he feels hands on him when he notices Kyle is turning a dangerous shade of blue.

“Jackie Boy,” Chibs shouts as he manages to hook his arms underneath his shoulders. Chibs manages to loosen his hold and pulls him away for a few precious seconds.

But Chibs can’t combat the fire inside of him. Jax shakes himself loose from his hold. Kyle only has time to worry about replenishing his oxygen when Jax strikes again.

The first punch, Jax connects with Kyle’s temple.

The second punch, Jax feels his knuckles take the brunt of hitting him in the Jax.

The third punch busts Kyle’s nose.

The fourth punch has blood coating Kyle’s left eye like mascara and eyeshadow.

The fifth punch, Kyle accepts defeat.

The sixth punch, Kyle spits out blood as Chibs and Tig manage to pull Jax off him.

“It’s done!” Chibs shouts in his face.

Jax resists the urge to spit on Kyle’s prone form as he walks away to his bike.

The first month seems to be the easiest Alma thinks. The wound is too fresh to really notice what Opie’s absence feels like. Alma never really realized how much Opie was so integrated into her life. She forgot how much Opie would stop by to visit with or without Donna and the kids. Even though he had kids of his own, he played the role of doting Uncle to a T. Better yet, he was someone she could lean on when Jax would get on her nerves.

There were no more Sundays of him and Jax rotating spending the day together in one of their garages restoring a bike to sell or keep for their own sons. It’s hard to let go of him being a phone call away. The reassurance of him there is something he can’t rely on.

It’s the second month that Alma realizes she needs to find a way to fill the hole of his absence.

She doesn’t ask what happened to Kyle. She figured it out when Jax came home with bloody hands. April, Kyle’s wife of 3 years, divorced him under the guise of infidelity, but staying in Charming with the kids. She wasn’t blind to his missing picture on their mugshot wall of fame.

She tries to help Donna as much as she can or the woman will allow, but she can only try so much before she becomes angry herself. She doesn’t know how to explain to Donna that Opie’s patch has nothing to do with the help she is offering. Her wanting to help Donna has nothing to do with her obligations of being an Old Lady. She finds it best for now to let Donna simmer. She hopes maybe the fire will turn to ash at some point. Alma will still be there no matter what.

Besides, she has Jax to focus on too. She thinks he is handling it better than she anticipated, or the fact as a patch is a consequence of the life they chose. He still has his days where he will ride by himself in the glowing twilight, or in the hazy dawn of the morning.

By somehow the days glide by and it is a sticky summer day for the annual “Fun Town” festival. On top of that, her mother is in town. Her mother’s visits are not really welcomed by anyone outside of her kids. They are still young enough to not really notice the tension she brings to Jax and Gemma.

“Is Donna coming to Fun Town?” Ann asks her. Jax had taken Nathan to get his haircut before heading to the festival. Kaylee decided to tag along so she wouldn’t feel left out.

“No, most weekends she heads to her parents.”

“Such a shame,” Ann adds with a sigh. “Just to think that could’ve been you.”

Alma doesn’t reply. She begins switching her purse to a smaller one, but big enough to carry emergency items that are needed for small children.

“I can say that I didn’t think this would’ve lasted as long as it did, or maybe you are better with the out of sight out of mind.”

Alma’s spine stiffens. She knows her mom is talking about the run policy. Technically, Jax could do whatever he wanted. The boys would see no wrong as long as he isn’t on their home turf. She had no cause to complain or cause strife.

She also isn’t blind to her husband’s look or life choices before he knocked her up. Since he hit puberty Jax always had a different girl on his arm. Even when Tara had been his first serious girlfriend it didn’t stop his wandering eyes. She can recall the many times he had use that insecurity to ruffle Tara’s feathers on one of their numerous breaks.

Worse, she wasn’t even anything to Jax when they slept together that one time that got her pregnant. When she really thinks about it, Jax's sudden desire to sleep with her had to be him simply marking his territory. She had been dating Josh Collins. Her first real boyfriend, one she suspected she loved. He had been pressuring her a bit to take that final plunge. She was rightfully nervous. Being raised in the club, a reputation had been bestowed on her.

They had a terrible fight at a party. She had called Jax with tears running down her face. Of course, Jax and Josh got into a fight that only happened when Josh had accused her of already sleeping with Jax.

Jax had taken her home. He offered to stay. Her mom was gone for the weekend. Jax claimed he didn’t want to be at the clubhouse. He had been more subdue, or sad really. Tara had finally decided she was going to college far away from Charming.

It was natural to find comfort in Jax’s arms as she told him everything. How she was going to sleep with Josh for the very first time. Jax was sort of her best friend like Opie. They were her protectors. Her everything at that point.

But when Jax kissed her, he simply became more.

When it was over she felt guilty and embarrassed. She told Jax that it could never happen again. After all, technically he was with Tara still. She could never be that girl. She was only barely 16 and him being on the cusp of 18, he has a newbie patch. What she would want wouldn’t fit in what he could give her.

She pushed him away. Her and Josh broke up especially after she learned that Amanda Green had tended to his wounds.

Four months later, she was staring at jeans that couldn’t fit any more and denial burning her throat as she released her guilt in porcelain.

And sure there were bumps in the road with her relationship with Jax. She was young. She still is.

She remembers the many arguments her parents had over the other women. It wasn’t until after the birth of Nathan when she came back from her six week checkup that she set the terms with Jax. She couldn’t share him. Just because they had a son didn’t mean they needed to be together. She didn’t care about him having to soothe the scandal of him messing with a first 9’s daughter. The only daughter that was a “legacy”.

For six years she has trusted Jax, she isn’t going to let her mind unravel that now. She and Jax aren’t her parents. She’s not her mother.

“Mom, can we please not do this? Can you at least try to be civil to Jax?” Alma implores.

“How can I be civil towards him? He took advantage of you. You were 16! He knew better!”

“Mom, I could’ve said no, but I didn’t.” Alma says tired of this argument. She feels her mom brings up the same facts every time. “Besides, there is nothing in the world that would make me take back Nathan and Kaylee.”

The mention of Nathan and Kaylee cracks her mom’s righteous façade a little. “I love my grandbabies, I do, Al, but can’t you see things from my perspective? It hurts me to know you’re stuck here in this town. I worry that one day I might get a phone call about Jax going to jail or being killed.” Her mom’s breath catches in her throat. She wishes her mom could simply just ask her about the weather or hell what laundry detergent she uses. She doesn’t really want to dismiss her mother’s words. She was an old lady and it obviously changed her.

The front door opens and Nathan and Kaylee look like blurs as they run into the kitchen. Alma holds them tight as she presses kisses to their heads. Her mother watches with a sad smile.

Thankfully her mom doesn't spend her time in Charming at one of the fancy hotel franchises the Hale’s own. The Ramada is too low class for her.

Alma is fresh from the shower and has just wrapped her hair in a microfiber towel when Jax approaches from behind.

He holds her close and sways a bit. She closes her eyes as she leans back and enjoys this simple moment. She runs her fingers over the tattoo memorial of his father and of their son’s name.

“I think today went well all things considered.” She opens her eyes to find Jax nods his head. She knows that he doesn’t really agree. She turns around and folds her fingers behind his neck. “What?”

His hands find her hips as he nudges her back into the countertop and as if she weighs nothing, he places her on top. He begins to rub circles into her thighs. “You know I don’t like your mother.”

“And…”

Jax’s blue eyes burn into her whiskey ones. “I just feel like she only criticizes you. She always has something to complain about.”

“If she didn’t she wouldn’t be my mother.”

“Al…” Her husband whines.

“Jax…” She mocks.

“I’m being serious.” Jax replies as he makes his home between her thighs. She splits her legs to accommodate him as the fabric of her black short cotton robe bunches at her thighs.

“I don’t know what to say Jax.” After all, her mother saves her grievances just for her. Ann knows better than to badmouth Jax in front of the kids. Her hands find purchase in his blonde hair. She presses a kiss to his check and nose. She manages to get a smile before she meets his lips. He is at first reluctant, but as she presses her body into his and her legs lock around him, he sighs against her lips. She immediately deepens the kiss as her tongue demands entrance into his mouth.

Jax groans and she smiles as he melts into her kiss. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips.

She loves him no matter what her mother says. She loves him as the father of her children. She loves him as her husband. She loves him as the man that doesn’t complain when she needs him to paint her toenails because she is too lazy to do it. She loves him not despite his flaws but because of them.

Jax throws an extra pair of his jeans in his bag as he watches Alma pout from the bed. The run was impromptu as ATF had made a temporary home in Charming. It had Hale’s stink all over it. Hale seemed to have a little heart as he at least waited for the dust to settle on Opie’s arrest before making his move. It seemed despite the four months since the warehouse explosion it was enough evidence for the ATF to grapple onto.

Now they need to find somewhere to store their guns after the vomit inducing storage crate they were forced to do after an impromptu search. Now they were heading into Nevada to visit Uncle Jury. Usually Alma doesn’t linger or pout this much, but with her mother’s recent visit she seems to plant non-existent troubles that he needs to weed through.

He zips his bag and he plants both hands on the side of Alma’s face. She frowns and he laughs as her nose scrunches up. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Why do you have to go?” Alma presses.

“Because Uncle Jury likes me better.”

“Or he likes your money.”

Jax’s lips tug up. “Maybe.”

Alma punches him in the stomach and Jax manages to pull her tight against him. “I’m just…it’s…Nevada is Mayan territory, Jax.”

Jax feels guilty that he immediately thought Alma was worried about the brothel Uncle Jury called him that would be open to Jax. Alma never has hassled him on croweaters and the run policy since their one and only conversation after Nathan was born. She trusted him and he wasn’t stupid. He was more than satisfied with what he had at home.

“I’ll be careful.” He promises. “It’s just me and Bobby. Low profile.”

“You can’t be low profile with that kutte and bike, Jackson.” Alma remarks bitterly.

“Hey…” Jax says as he looks into her dark eyes. Alma may be moody sometimes before runs, but she usually isn’t like this. He knows she isn’t on her period as despite 6 years of marriage she isn’t comfortable with period sex. So it’s always at least a week each month they go without sex. “Something else bothering you?”

Alma pulls back from him and she falls back onto the bed. She spreads out and sighs. “Sorry.”

Jax eyes his wife’s form. She covers her eyes with her forearm, but she doesn’t elaborate. He peeks at the skin that has been exposed from her sudden movements. He smiles as he bends down and blows a raspberry against her stomach.

Alma jerks and he immediately locks her down and begins blowing more. “Jax, stop!” Alma yelps between laughter.

It isn’t long before their kids become curious as they jump on the bed. He is easily outnumbered as they work to save their mom. It isn’t long before small hands pull him down to the bed. He lies on the bed, his cheeks hurt from the laugher and smiles. As he looks at his family, their eyes sparkling, he wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

With Jax gone, Alma is left alone with the kids. Being a weekday, both of them have school. It leaves Alma with plenty of time for herself. Despite many offers to watch Ellie for Donna free of charge, Donna only takes advantage on Thursday and Friday. Being Monday, Alma finds herself with nothing to do. She feels guilty for abandoning her job search, but with everything happening to Opie it seemed that would have been the last thing anyone needed. With a clean house and no kids, Alma finds herself driving the familiar route to the clubhouse.

It’s weird to think that this structure out of brick and wood has such a significant importance to her life.

Maybe Gemma needs help, or wants to go to lunch.

She pulls into a parking spot. The lot is busy and loud from the machines. She waves to the workers. Tig whistles at her. She flips him off. She finds Gemma in the office with a stack of paperwork. Her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Alma smiles as she sits on the couch. “Hey.”

“Bored?” Gemma questions.

Alma shrugs her shoulders.

Gemma chuckles. She pulls the glasses off her face. “Missing Jax?” She surmises and looks at the clock. “He isn’t around for you to give him his afternoon snack.”

Alma wrinkles her nose. “Gross. I came to see if you wanted lunch or help.”

“I could always use an extra pair of hands, or the company.” Gemma replies. “But today isn’t all that bad, but thanks for the offer. We can leave for lunch though in about 30.”

“Anytime,” Alma replies. “So have you met this ATF agent?”

Gemma shakes her head. “No, but I imagine she is going to start sniffing pretty soon. You and I will be the next target.”

“Lovely,” Alma drawls.

“I’m more worried about Donna.”

“Why?”

“You see how much she misses Opie. Probably would do anything to get him back.”

Alma doesn’t know whether to be offended for her friend or not. She knows that Donna would never do that. No matter the desperation, anger, or sorrow. “She wouldn’t…”

“This Agent is going to push and pull at her. The smallest of things could take these boys down. Opie was so worried about keeping her in this bullet it might backfire. It will backfire.”

“We shouldn’t…we shouldn’t write her off and think about her like that. If she wanted to do that…she would’ve when the charges were first coming down hard.” Alma says in defense of her friend.

Gemma doesn’t say anything. Alma knows Gemma is cynical of most things.

“You could try to be…nicer.” Alma hedges.

“Nice?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Hmm, maybe she shouldn’t stick her nose up then. She knew who Opie was. Knew where his loyalties lie.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t born in this Gemma. You can’t deny that the first time John got locked up that he was angry and hurt.”

Gemma softens at the mention of John. Though the look is immediately washed away by her standard hardened exterior. “Still you don’t turn your back on family.” Gemma doesn’t add like Mary did and Ann did. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Precious, Bobby’s ex-wife was on that list as well.

“Just give her time.”

“That’s like watering a dead flower,” Gemma answers before answering the garage’s business line.

Jax feels guilty that it took six months before he could visit his friend in Chino. One, he didn’t want to take away any visits from Donna. He would have gone on more trips if she was refusing to allow them to follow her. She would make the trip early in the morning to make it there by 11 am. She spent the whole duration of Opie’s visiting hours for the trip she would only take once a month. Her only day off during her workweek was Sunday as she was working overtime on Saturdays. He wasn’t sure how Donna was doing it.

But Jax kept up with his friend through phone calls and letters. After making sure Donna didn’t mind if he had this Sunday, he booked the visit after the long wait of his paperwork to be approved. He knows he plans on making a visit with his kids and Alma. He just knows that the judge had been particularly petty to sentence Opie six hours away.

Despite Rosen’s pleas, Opie has been denied transfer to Stockton. Rosen advised it would be smart to exhaust, but wait a year into his sentence to show he is a model inmate.

Jax enters the cold and stale visiting room. He scans the lot and finds his friend already sitting. A wide smile is on his face. Jax rushes over and immediately braces his friend tightly. He is taken back by the weight his friend has already lost, but he embraces his friend tightly.

“I miss ya, bro.” Jax tells him.

“Me too. Thanks for the pictures of the kids and Alma. Feels more like home.”

They both take a seat in the hard chairs. “You need anything? Money?”

“Your mom already has me covered,” Opie says with a chuckle. Jax can only imagine the smoke Opie is accumulating from poker games, or better yet the small commissary he is probably building.

“How’s art class?” Jax asks cryptically. It was their code for the Nords. It was a hard bargain brokering the deal with the wannabe Nazi’s as it came to a hard line that they wouldn’t mess with the Nords as long as they didn’t sell in Charming.

“It’s been easy. Been working on the landscape.” Opie is working on feeling them out. “The fence needs some work, but I’m happy I don’t need to paint a tool shed.” Opie hasn’t been asked to do anything to compromise his sentence. He is just the appearance of muscle.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Actually, I might need you to talk to Rosen for me.”

Jax’s brows furrow. “For what?”

Opie scratches his black beanie. “Donna’s not happy. I don’t want to keep her tied down.”

Jax feels his mouth go dry. “Wait…you’re thinking about a divorce?”

“5 years is a long time.”

“So?”

Opie buries his face in his hands. “Can we ignore who we are for a second and look at the reality. I’m stuck here for five years minimum, that is if I can get on parole. It’s not right for me to expect her to wait.”

“Ope, people have gone through longer sentences. Christ, it’s not like you’re in here for murder or some shit.”

“But we’re not other people.” Opie replies. “I can already see the toll this is taking on her. This isn’t even about me and my feelings. This is about Donna.”

“Donna just wants you to keep your head down and come home.” Jax interjects.

“Did she actually say that?” Opie implores.

A heavy feeling settles in Jax’s guys as he imagines the type of stilted visits Opie has been enjoying for the past six months. “Ope…she’s just adjusting…”

Opie snorts. “I don’t want her to become bitter and angry because of me. I don’t want her to stay when she is unhappy. What happens when I come home?” Opie looks up at him with wide hazel eyes. “Whatever…trust…we had is broken. She’ll always been suspicious. I’ll turn her into someone she’s not.”

“Christ, Ope, it’s only been six months. See where you are a year from now. If Al –“

“Don’t tell, Alma, please just keep this between us.” Opie begs.

Jax would’ve laughed if his best friend wasn’t deadly serious. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I can already hear her screaming in my head. She would probably scalp me over the phone.” Opie jokes.

Jax chuckles. “Yeah and she would take it out on me.”

“Thank her for me. I know she is probably the only person in Donna’s corner.”

“You just can’t think negative bro. Sure Donna’s pissed, but dwelling on this isn’t going to help you through this. If Donna was really pissed she wouldn’t be making these 6 hour trips. You need to hold on to what’s good. Not let it go.”

The “Taste of Charming” festival is Gemma’s annual PR campaign. Charming has a love hate relationship with the club. They are willing to turn a blind eye to all the shit until it gets bloody. Charming doesn’t complain that it keeps the franchises out of the town. It kept everything local and contained.

Like they weren’t complaining about this year’s good will campaign was going to benefit the school’s music program.

Alma did her part and helped with the flyers, setting up, and she even let her kids used their wide innocent eyes to sell tickets for the many raffles.

However, her main focus is looking after Donna. It took her forever to even agree to come to the annual fundraisers. She knows Donna has slowly become more reclusive since Opie’s prison sentence began. She wants to tell Donna that hiding is only going to make things worse.

The only good thing is the kids are having fun.

Donna is watching the kids play with water guns when Alma joins her with a funnel cake and pop. Donna gives her a small smile as she accepts the food.

They eat in silence. It’s how it is between them now. Neither of them knows how to fill the silence if it doesn’t revolve around the kids. She hates how things are turning out between them.

“Thanks for coming out Donna.” Alma settles on.

The brunette prison widow nods her head. “There’s no point in hiding away.”

“Don –“

“It’s alright. I know how I’ve been. But thank you for being here even with the things I’ve said.”

“I know that you do the same for me.” Alma soothes as she reaches out and grabs her hand.

“But I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Donna begins. “I’ve seen April Hobart around…what happened to Kyle?”

Alma freezes. “He left.”

Donna scrunches her brows. “Left?”

“Yeah. He’s not a member and him and April got a divorced.”

“He just left though?” Donna repeats. “You can do that?”

As Donna’s wide and hopeful eyes look up at her, Alma knows her friend has hope – dangerous false hope. She needs to find a way out of this conversation. Alma goes to open her mouth to explain it is much more complicated than just leaving.

She jumps as hands enclose around her waist and she finds a kiss being planted on her head. Sandalwood, gasoline, leather, and smoke flood her senses.

“Kids know their way around a gun,” Jax jokes, but Donna does not find it funny as her face falls.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Donna mumbles as she makes a quick exit.

Alma turns to her husband and glares at him. “Really, Jax?”

He gives her a blank stare as he straddles the picnic bench and caging her slightly between his thighs. He steals some pieces of her funnel cake. “I saw her staring at April. I could tell where the conversation was going.”

“Don’t you think she should know everything?” She didn’t see the benefit of keeping Donna in the dark. She deserved to know the whole truth.

“What would the truth do? Doesn’t change that Opie still is going to rot in jail for the next five years.” Jax remarks bitterly.

“I would want the truth.” Alma interjects.

“You already have it.”

“But if I didn’t. It’s almost like you’re…” Alma stops herself before she can really say what’s on her mind.

“We’re what?”

Alma backs down. “Nothing. It doesn’t change anything anyways.”

Jax’s blue eyes soften and he pulls her into his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

But it doesn’t stop her from thinking that it could’ve been him too.

Jax is grateful that his one meet for the day was with Piney’s old jarhead buddy. He had a bad feeling about the son. When it comes to selling guns, but Jax had made a hard peace with the fact the bullets of the guns aren’t doling out harmless water.

He didn’t want to think about the moral ramification of his outlaw ways. The kids would still be at school and it left him with a few hours of alone time with his wife. A lecherous smile comes across his face as he thinks about the naughty things he has planned, but stops at the couple of unfamiliar cars parked in his driveway.

He enters the house and he is immediately hit with the scent of nail polish, acetone, and his ears already ring from the high pitched squeals, which he supposes is categorized as laughter.

He walks through to the dining room near the open windows where Alma usually has her mini nail salon set up.

It’s been awhile since Alma had people over to do nails. In fact, she hasn’t mentioned how her job search was going, or if she even was still looking for a job.

He doesn’t feel like dealing with curious eyes. They are both aware of the fact most of the people that went to Alma for her nails were just curious about the state of her marriage to Jax.

Jax walks into the kitchen and goes into the fridge where the laughter seems to stop at his arrival. He turns and leans against the counter and is relieved to find that Alma is in the process of cleaning up as the woman’s hand is under some fancy drying contraption.

Eying the beach blonde stringy hair and the orange tan, he recognizes the girl as Alicia Rogan, who is drying her nails and the companion is Diane Lawrence. Both girls were on the cheerleading team in high school. Alicia had tried to give him a blow job on one of his numerous breaks with Tara in high school. She does possess a decent rack and he had heard stories about her certain skill set from rumors in school. Though he also heard about her having some problems he wasn’t looking to contract.

Diana had always turned her nose up at him.

“Well, I’ll let you two be. I can only imagine how exhausting two kids can be.” Alicia says sweetly as she passes Alma some money. “I’ll see you in two weeks. It was nice seeing you, Jax.”

Jax gives them both a tight smile as they find their own way out of the house. Jax takes a swing of his beer as he watches Alma clean up. She is wearing short jean shorts, a white wife beater, along with one of his flannels. Her brown hair is up in a very sloppy bun.

“So should I expect more strangers in the house?”

Alma rolls her eyes. “They honestly just showed up. Must be bored with their crop of gossip.”

“So we are just so entertaining?”

“You’re something to look at.” Alma retorts as she enters the kitchen and then washes her hands.

“Well this merchandise is off the market.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

Jax smiles. “So how is the job search going?”

“I think there have been more pressing matters to deal with.”

“Maybe, but you’re already doing so much, I don’t want you to forget about yourself, babe.” Jax explains as he comes up behind her.

“Its just…Donna needs my help. And maybe right now isn’t the right time.”

“If you say so.”

Alma turns around and her fingers trail over his kutte. “So are you done for the day?”

“Just me and you, babe.” Jax informs her as he grips the back of her thighs and throws her over his shoulder as he races to their bedroom.

The kids had an in-service day. Jax was working at the garage. The kids were outside running in the backyard. Jax had recently bought them a trampoline and as it was new they were spending every second outside jumping on it.

Alma is inside making them a simple lunch of a sandwich, chips, and apples and peanut butter. She has just grabbed the some juice boxes when a knock comes from the door. Opening it she finds a tall scrawny blonde in a pantsuit and blonde hair staring at her with an amused smile.

“Can I help you?” Alma greets. She has a feeling she knows who this woman is.

“Mrs. Teller, I’m Agent Stahl, A.T.F.” The woman shows her badge. “May I come in?”

“You got a warrant?”

Stahl raises an eyebrow. “I just have a few questions. I’m not here for anything more.”

Alma clenches her jaw, but opens the door wider. She leads the agent to the small kitchen table. “Wait, here.” She orders.

Alma goes to the sliding door and calls for her kids that its time for lunch. She directs them to the living room and allows them to eat while watching TV, something she doesn’t normally do. It’s enough to distract them though that they don’t pay attention to the fed lingering in the kitchen.

“Cute kids.” Stahl comments. “I think your son thinks like your father.”

Alma scowls. “You said you had some questions.”

“Do you know any illegal activity that your husband, Jax Teller, or the Sons of Anarchy are involved in?”

“No.”

“What about your husband’s whereabouts yesterday morning?”

“He was here, at the garage, and came back. There were no kids home so it was just us.”

“Well that was easy.” Stahl says as she hikes her purse up her shoulder.

“What are you even looking for?”

“You know I seen your friend Donna. I can tell Opie Winston’s prison sentence is taking a very hard toll. You have two beautiful children, you’re young. I hope your children don’t know what it's like to lose a father from prison or a bullet. I know you know how that feels.“

“I think you should go. I already answered your questions.”

“Right. I imagine we’ll be seeing each other again.”

Alma follows Stahl all the way to do the door. She waits until the woman’s government issued car is down the block before she goes to her computer and loads up the Charming Gazette. The top story of the day is of a prison van escort being ambushed by men with guns. A cop was killed in the attack.

Jax stubs his cigarette in the ashtray as he sits next to Clay in the Pub. It’s the local Irish spot where they meet their contact from the IRA. Jax thinks it’s a little on the nose, but it’s only a meet. They don’t exchange anything outside of words and some cash. There isn’t anything to connect what the money could be exchanged for.

“You alright, son?”

Jax’s blue eyes flicker over to Clay’s. “He’s late.”

Clay nods his head. Jax can see the tension in his stepfather’s shoulders. It seems hit after hit keeps coming from the warehouse explosion, Opie’s prison sentence, and the prison transport van being attacked. Thankfully, there was nothing to connect them to being the providers of the gun. It was only hearsay that had the Feds flashing their badges all over town. He was peeved to find out that Stahl had the nerve to go to his home when the kids were there. He knows that was a calculated move.

Still, the high profile of the case had made it hard for them to sell the remaining guns. Despite Piney’s vocal protests because of military bonds they had no choice but to get rid of the right wing militia.

Clay’s eyes flicker to the door where Tig is at the bar keeping watch. Tig seems uneasy too. The door swings open and a blading skinny man walks through. The bartender nods at him and motions towards him and Clay.

Jax sits up straighter as the man comes to their table. Tig immediately stops him. The bartender intervenes, seemingly vouching for the man. Tig eyes them skeptically. He makes the man wait as Tig comes over.

“Cameron Hayes, Michael’s cousin. With the cause. Doesn’t come stateside much.” Tig informs them.

Clay nods and Cam Hayes walks over. “Where’s McKeevy?” Clay asks before the man can even take a seat.

“He's dead.”

“Jesus.” Jax says. He wonders how come they haven’t heard anything on it. Though maybe this news is something that needs to come in person.

“How?” Clay ponders.

Cam Hayes eyes narrow. “The Oakland park commissioner threatened to bust open... a shipment we got coming in on Monday. Wants to triple his payoff money. Hefner. Greedy prick.” The man snarls. “Been riding roughshod over the ports for years. Michael was pissed. Went off on him for changing the deal. Must have spooked Hefner. He had his port goons jump Michael. They beat him, broke his neck. Left him for dead.”

“Sorry. That's awful shit, man. Condolences.” Jax replies.

“Thank you.” Cam says gratefully.

Clay tilts his head. “Anything we can do to help with this?”

“No. No, it's personal.” Cam answers. “I'll handle Mr. Hefner.” Cam sits up straighter. He turns serious as he begins to discuss their business. “Michael spoke very highly of SAMCRO. Trusted you. Hope to be able to continue the relationship. That's why I'm here. I'll be your new contact.”

Clay grimaces. “I mean no disrespect. I'm sure everything you're saying is the truth-“

Cam nods his head understanding. “No, no. Wish we had a secret handshake or business card.” He digs in his pocket and pulls out a photo. It shows Cam along with Mckeevy and other people wielding guns. Jax spots Jimmy O and Keith McGee, the Belfast president. It seems to be enough for Clay.

Tig picks up the black bag from the floor. “That's the package there that we were delivering to McKeevy. Two months, and a month insurance, 200 K."

“Mind if I take a quick count?”

“I got all night, brother.”

“Thank you.” Cam says as he moves to another table.

“Shit,” Clay mutters.

“You think that is why ATF came down too. Hoping to catch Hayes?” Jax wonders.

“Could be. We’re going to have to be really careful.”

Jax fights the urge to snort. They always have to be careful.

Cam comes back to their table with the duffle bag. “ Lovely. This will float the cause, keep SAMCRO and us in business. Glad we could work it out, Clay.”

“Me too, Cameron.” Clay exclaims as they shake hands. “How is, uh, the cause going?”

“Like any good war- slow and steady.” The Irishman tells them.

Clay grabs the untouched shot on the table and they all do the same. “Michael McKeevy. Good soldier, good friend. To a unified Ireland.”

They are unprepared as the glass around them explodes.

Jax sits in the chapel as they grimly go over last night's attack. Luckily no one was killed, but Cameron Hayes had walked away with a bullet to the ass. Someone Chibs was able to remove the slug and stick the man up, but Cameron wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. There was also the fact; Cameron had been mumbling about handling Hefner and the club had agreed to do it. Their payment would be refunded if they could.

Still with Mayans deciding to do such a violent attack only meant they had to go to war. It was going to be Bloody ’92 all over again.

Clay is about to dismiss church after all agrees to summing all the Presidents and Vice Presidents to Charming.

“Before we go, I need to say something.” Piney says gruffly. “If we are going into a war, we need someone better at our President’s side. Let’s face it, I’m getting old and this oxygen tank is slowing me down. I’m stepping down as VP and I’m nominating Jax to take my place.”

Jax is still in a slight stupor from Piney’s announcement. There is a smile on his face, but this is a big change. He walks into his former dorm room. His kids are tucked under the covers sleeping. With the Mayans attacking it meant all of them were in lockdown. He begins to remove his shoes, kutte, and jewelry when the bathroom door opens. Alma is highlighted by the bathroom light in his oversized SAMCRO shirt.

“Hey.” Alma whispers.

“Hey back,” Jax replies. He watches as Alma lingers by the door. “Everything okay?”

“You first.”

Jax steps out of his jeans and walks to his wife. He brings her into a hug. “For now. Tomorrow we’ll really know. It’s going to be busy with all the number ones and twos coming. But Piney nominated me to be Vice President.”

Alma reels back. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jax says with a dopey smile.

Alma wraps her arms around his neck and attacks him with kisses all over his face. “I’m so happy for you Jax.”

“Thanks, babe. So you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Alma purses her lips and she tugs him into the bathroom. She points at the small stick resting on the counter.

“I’m pregnant.”

#soa #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller x oc #jax teller #sons of anarchy

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h0esvck · 6 years ago

Note

One of the other members walks in on you having sex😵💀😂

The emojis killed me anon XD

Namjoon

"O-oh! Oh!" You yelped every time thrust hard and deep inside of you making your legs quiver around him as he fucked you on the desk of his studio. Rkive. He was relentless and was practically destroying your insides with his cock. Not that you minded, one of your favorite parts in visiting him was waddling out of his studio your panties still soaked from the previous actions. "Oh baby you're so good, " he breathed heavily and you nodded whining and digging your nails into his back as he hit the perfect spot inside of you. "J-Joon- right- right there! That's- that's my G-" you couldn't even finish your words when Jimin and Taehyung opened the door. You gasped and clutched Namjoon's body to yours as he used it to shield your nakedness. "Oh man- sorry we didn't know- I-" Jimin stuttered and Namjoon growled, "Get out!"

Seokjin

Lazy day, you'd be sharing a shower with Jin getting fucked from behind, your breasts pressed up against the cold glass of the door. This was your favorite thing to do, shower with Jin and ultimately have sex. It was passionate yet had to be taken slow enough for your safety so that you could thoroughly enjoy the experience. But today Seokjin was feeling a little rough, and he told you that you could be as loud as you wanted since the other members were out. But being used to trying to stay quiet you held in your moans, "Baby I want to hear you, " Jin whispered into your ear as he thrust up into you making you yelp and finally moan loudly for him. "Fuck Jin, just like that, " you panted and whimpered as he held your hips and erratically slapped his hips against your wet ass and you moaned. Then the door came open and someone came rushing in the bathroom before screeching. "Oh- MY GOD!!!" The familiar voice of Hoseok screeched at seeing your breasts pressed against the glass while Jin stood behind you so he knew exactly what had ran in on. You screamed and Jin began yelling, "What are you doing here!? Get out!" He demanded using his hands to cover your body from Hoseok who was ducking his head and running out after grabbing what he needed from the bathroom.

Yoongi

"Y-Yoongi- so rough!" You panted as he fucked you from behind on the couch in the dorms. Yoongi just couldn't wait to make it to his room to fuck you. You had done some pretty seductive things at dinner and he couldn't handle it much longer. So here you were, button-up shirt ripped open, skirt hiked up over your hips and your lacy panties hanging off your ankle as your hands gripping the back of the couch because your world was being rocked from behind. "It's not my fault you decided to act the way you did, " he said huskily before wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your head back making you gasp and your back to arch just giving him a deeper angle inside of you. Then suddenly you heard the familiar window washer laugh that had you both freezing and looking towards the doorway where Seokjin had no doubted my entered with another member. "I can't believe we-" Seokjin rounded the corner and his eyes widened before he put his arm back and pushed Jungkook back so he couldn't see. "What what?" Jungkook asked and Seokjin shook his head. "Get decent and go to your room for heaven's sake Yoongi!" Jin exclaimed and Yoongi chuckled before grinning and rocking his hips back and forth inside of you. "Just let us finish and we'll be out of your hair, " Yoongi said before picking his pace back up making you yelp and moan loudly making Jungkook's eyes widen in realization of what was happening. "What- oh my God!" Jin pushed Jungkook back out the door before slamming it shut.

Hoseok

After getting in an argument in front of the other members which ended in you angrily stomping off with Hoseok waiting a long enough to whisper "Shit, " under his breath before chasing after you into the dance studio. The other members heard you continue to argue with muffled words in the dance studio before hearing you yelp and yell Hoseok's name. They waited a few more minutes before their eyes widened at hearing you yelping and screaming Hoseok's name. "I have to see if she's okay, " Jungkook said a raise of chivalry going through his veins. So he ran to the next room where he threw the door open ready to push Hoseok off of you when he was completely surprised with what he saw. You with one foot barely touching the ground as Hoseok held your other leg up by the underside of your knee as he fucked you against the wall of the dance studio. Hoseok looked over, anger still evident in his face. "S-sorry I thought- I-I got worried about (Y/N) and-" Hoseok growled and you whined making Hoseok thrust up in you to shut you up with a sharp gasp and moan. "Kook, I suggest you leave. We have some things we need to finish discussing." He said slapping your ass making you yelp and Jungkook nodded with a gulp before bolting out of the room his face completely red.

Jimin

"Baby- baby- oh my goood~" Jimin praised you as you rode him on the bed giving him exactly the pleasure he needed after a long tour away. "Fuck, I missed you, I missed your thighs and your waist and your boobs bouncing when you ride me, " Jimin groped every part of your body as he spoke of it making you moan and lean down to give him a kiss as you kept moving your hips up and down slowly. "I missed you so much, " he said against your lips and you smiled kissing him again before getting back to passionately going up and down on his dick. You sat down on Jimin's dick and clenched around him making him hiss and moan loudly. "How does that feel?" You licked your lips. "Oh fuck, " would've been a normal response, but that didn't come from Jimin. You both looked behind you to see Namjoon with two cups of coffee, one for Jimin like he had asked for and one for Namjoon who went out to get some coffee. "I-I'll set this here and leave, I'm terribly sorry." Namjoon almost spilled Jimin's coffee as he set it down, because of his nerves, before turning and leaving making you think and hide against Jimin's chest. "I'm gonna die!" You whined and Jimin laughed at your embarrassment and comforted you. "At least we have a coffee to share when we're done though, " "...true."

Taehyung

Taehyung wasn't one to be ashamed of much. And when it came to you? Even less so, he loved flaunting you... So he didn't care one bit if he got caught giving you the fuck of your life. Especially right now when he was fucking you into the mattress of Jimin's bed just to get back at Jimin for ticking him off earlier. "T-Tae- I hear- I hear them coming in- eek!" You squeaked as he only fucked you rougher into the bedsheets. "Just a little more babe, " he promised, wiping a strand of hair from your sweat face before leaning down and kissing you as his hips still moved between your legs giving you a pleasure deep within you. "Yes, yes, Tae I'm gonna cum~" you moaned right into his ear before releasing around him, clenching him deep within you and making him hiss at the pleasure. "Fuck, " he swore and came into his condom right as Jimin slammed the door open knowing exactly what was going on. "GET OUT OF MY ROOM YOU PERVERTS!" Jimin screeched and you yelped covering yourself with Jimin's blankets after Taehyung pulled out. "I'm gonna kick your ass, " Jimin threatened and Taehyung pulled his pants up. "Sure shorty,"

Jungkook

Jungkook was having a pretty shitty day so spending the night between your thighs was exactly how he wanted to end his day. "Oh, Jungkook~ Oh Jungkook!" You panted and moaned right into his ear as you clutched this naked upper body to your own as he fucked you however he wanted to. You don't care, you knew he had a bad day but you also knew Jungkook would take care of you tonight. And if he didn't he make up for it tomorrow by making you cum so much you'll be crying and begging him to stop. "Fuck baby, you feel so good and tight for me, " he grunted before thrusting into you roughly making you yelp and grip one of his biceps tightly. He leaned down and kissed you passionately his hips continually moving so that you were moaning and yelping into his lips. Just then you heard the door open making you both freeze and look to see Yoongi standing in the corner of the room tiredly rubbing his eyes. "I know you guys are busy, but can you keep it down I'm trying to sleep..." Yoongi said and Jungkook was at a loss for words, "uh yeah, sure hyung. Bye?" He said and Yoongi nodded before turning to leave as he shook his head. "Damn horny teenagers." When the door clicked shut you and Jungkook tiredly giggled to yourselves. "Apparently we're teenagers now, " he teased with a bunny smile and you giggled "I guess, " he smiled and kissed you passionately turning serious before beginning to fuck you again making you lay your head back and groan in approval.

Requests open!

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imaginetonyandbucky · 6 years ago

Text

Take My Hand (Don’t Fear the Reaper)

Chapter 4 (On AO3)

They make me do terrible things, James had said. This man seemed so different from the man Tony knew that he had a hard time believing what he was seeing. "James!" He called out, his breath catching in his throat when he thought he saw him hesitate. He took one step towards him, wanting to call out, wanting to make him stop-

“Get down!” The soul next to him hissed, crouched down in safety behind a shot-up car, not realizing that his body was still behind the wheel.

Tearing his eyes away from the hunter that had James' face, Tony shook himself. There was no way James could see him or hear him, nothing for him to do but help the souls still stuck here. He gestured for the man to follow him. “Quickly,” he urged. “Come on, you’ll be safe with me.” The soul scrambled to his feet and took two steps with Tony before he disappeared and Tony jumped to the next soul just a few feet away.

The streets had cleared quickly, leaving James as the only man standing amid the chaos of the blaring horns and the oily smoke filling the air. He was looking for someone, rifle moving from side to side as James searched for his prey. Tony heard two loud pongs as someone sprinted across the top of a van and then a woman dropped down on James’ shoulders, trying to wrap a wire around his neck. Tony’s heart was in his throat as he watched the struggle, then somewhere around his knees, Tony heard a terrified whimper, and he realized that the soul kneeling next to him was staring at James in terror.

(More after the break!)

“It’s okay,” Tony said as he knelt down beside her, blocking her view of the carnage on the streets. “He doesn’t see you, you’re safe,” he said, still craning his neck to see James even though he knew he should be helping this woman move on. James had thrown the woman off his shoulders but in the struggle his mask had been torn off, and as Tony watched someone big and blond and beefy stepped out from behind the wreckage of an overturned bus and said, “Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Tony and James said at the same time.

James stared at the man for a long moment before he lowered his rifle, and Tony could see the hardness as it melted away from his eyes to be replaced with confused recognition. “Steve?” he said hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure if he was remembering properly.

“Bucky,” Steve repeated, slowly approaching James with his hands up. “I thought…I thought you were dead.”

When the realization hit Tony it hit hard, making him sit down heavily next to the still-cowering soul. James “Bucky” Barnes, his brain filled in, and Steve fucking Rogers. AKA Captain America. How in the hell were they still alive and kicking after all this time?

Well, he reflected grimly, he knew how James was. Years of being held in cryosleep had slowed his aging, but Steve…Tony swallowed and turned away. It didn’t matter. Steve would save him, Tony told himself. Steve wouldn’t let James go back to the men that had taken him away from himself, that had broken him so thoroughly. Maybe Captain America would even be enough to save the world from whatever those people were planning.

“It’s over,” Tony said to the woman, somehow mustering a smile. “Come with me, okay? I’m going to take you somewhere better.”

***

Tony deliberately tried not to keep count of the time that had passed since the last time he saw James; he also tried not to think about him or to wonder how he was doing, whether he was happy and had all of his memories back, but he was much less successful at that. Time passed in a blurred succession of souls, people who raged against their fate and people who despaired, and the whole time Tony felt increasingly numb and tired until one day he just sat down and said, “I can’t.”

WHY? Death said, and the soul stopped in the middle of his impassioned argument as to why he wasn’t as dead as Tony insisted he was. TIME TO GO, Death said to him, and instead of arguing the man nodded meekly and vanished.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Tony said dully. “I just…I just want to see James.”

WHO?

“The man who was frozen,” Tony said. “He stayed near death for years, and I would always stay with him until he woke up again.”

OH YES. THAT WAS QUITE DULL, I WAS HAPPY TO HAVE YOU TAKE OVER.

“But I didn’t think it was dull,” Tony said. He really just wanted to curl up into a ball and put his head in his hands, but this guy had died in a sleazy hotel with a prostitute so he kinda wanted to have as much dignity as the surroundings would offer. “I liked it. I miss him. I want to see him again.”

Death’s “No Ghosts ” sign appeared again, and Death pointed to it expressively, even tapping it with one bony finger.

“I know,” Tony said. “But I want to stay. Last time I wanted to stay because I was afraid to go, but now I have something to stay for. Please let me go back to him,” he pleaded. “Even if he can’t see me, I need to make sure he’s okay, that they aren’t hurting him anymore.”

YOU NEED TO PASS ON, Death said. UNLESS YOU ARE GOING TO CONTINUE TO BE A REAPER.

“I can’t,” Tony said again. “Even if I said the words, I don’t think I could go to what comes next. And I don’t want to be your assistant anymore. If…If I can’t be with James, I’ll just stay in that in-between place and wait for him.”

FINE, Death said with a resigned sigh, and over his shoulder the sign reset to say “0 Days Since Last Ghost.” As Tony’s stubborn spirit vanished, a skeletal mouse in a black robe squeaked at Death’s feet. I KNOW, Death said to it. I CAN’T HELP IT. I CAN'T RESIST A GOOD LOVE STORY.

***

Tony was disoriented for a moment when he landed; there was no confused or angry soul, just a quiet, peaceful room filled with plants and the soft sound of the radio. There was a man curled up in an overstuffed armchair, a book resting on its arm as he dozed in the late afternoon sun.

“James!” Tony said in relief, crossing the room to studying him in his sleep. He seemed well; his skin had lost its pasty whiteness and his hair was no longer the dark tangled curtain from before; in the sunlight Tony could see that it was a deep reddish brown. As James snorted in his sleep and stirred, without thinking Tony reached out and brushed his hair gently away from his face, resisting the urge to bury his hands in its inviting thickness.

As James' eyes blinked open, Tony froze as he realized James could see him.

There was a moment where James looked confused, and Tony had the fear again that James wouldn't remember him. But then he said “Tony?” and sat up straighter, staring at him like he couldn’t believe his eyes. He rubbed a hand over his face, then pinched his arm to see if he was dreaming. “Is it really…I mean, you're...” He straightened with alarm. “Holy shit, am I dead?”

“No, James, no,” Tony hurried to reassure him, crouching next to the chair so his head was level with James'. “I’m just…here. Death broke his rules to let me be here. With you. No more reaping.”

James reached out and miraculously, Tony could feel the gentle stroke of his fingers against his cheek. He leaned his face into the touch as James said, “I thought I had just dreamed you up.” Leaning forward, he rested his head against Tony’s. “My therapists all said that my brain made you up as a way to cope with the trauma.”

“Nope, I’m as real as the next ghost,” Tony joked weakly.

Shaking his head, James stood and pulled Tony into a hug. Tony let himself sink into it, pressing his cheek against James’, reveling in the fact that he could hold and be held. Even if he was invisible to anyone else, he was real to James and that was enough.

“I hope it’s okay that people are going to think you’re crazy,” Tony said, and James laughed as he pulled away. “Since no one else can see me.”

“I don’t care,” James said. “I feel like I’m half a ghost, anyway, since I spent most of my life with one foot in the grave.” He pressed a kiss to Tony’s temple, and when Tony lifted his head for more, kissed the corner of Tony’s eye. “You're real, and I can see you, and that’s what’s important. I can't wait to tell you all the things I've remembered.”

“Sure, you say that now,” Tony started and was interrupted by a knock at the doorway. James straightened and pulled away, and they both turned to see James' big blond, Steve, standing there. “Hey, I’m sorry for disturbing you, I just heard that you were awake and wanted to tell you that dinner is ready.” Then his gaze fell on Tony and he said, “Who’s your friend?”

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #ghost au #prompts #dracusfyre

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shipmistress9 · 6 years ago

Text

Keep Her Safe - 2

Fandom: How To Train Your Dragon

Rating: T

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Modern AU - Kinda Military AU - married Hiccstrid - Original child of Hiccstrid - angst - feels

. o O o .

AN: Haha... remember how I said this would be a two-shot? Yeah... well, it's not. It grew into a three-parter. But that's it then! xD

Hope you... enjoy this second part.

. o O o .

“Happy birthday!”

With a happy squeal, Bri jumped onto the bed, thoroughly jostling him awake. Hiccup groaned a little, but a quick glance at the time projected onto the dark ceiling told him that it was no use to try and get back to sleep. At 6:30 in the morning, not even extra cuddles would be able to calm Bri down for long.

So he gave in to the inevitable, and wrapped her into a playful hug, cuddling and tickling her until she squeaked. Laughing with her, he said, “Thanks, little monkey. How about a lazy pyjama breakfast with pancakes and hot chocolate to start the day?”

As expected, Bri was more than on board with this idea, and immediately bounced away, presumably to carry her Elsa-theme step stool from the bathroom over to the kitchen to help with the batter. Chuckling to himself, Hiccup attached his prosthetic leg and followed her.

Eight years ago, when an accident had robbed him of his leg, he'd thought his life would be over, worthless. He’d been chained to a wheelchair for what had felt like forever, hadn't been able to keep working as a paramedic anymore, and a slightly detached part of him had severely mourned regularly patching up the fierce blonde woman he'd developed a crush on.

But by now, all dark thoughts about losing his leg were gone. With his prosthetic, he was almost as mobile as he'd been before. Sometimes he missed taking care of patients, but he didn't exactly regret having made his hobby into a profession either. He loved to draw, and taking commissions to even get paid for it was great. And in addition… he'd never have been allowed to date a regular patient, so he ultimately owed it to that accident that he was now married to said fierce blonde. And his staying home had made the decision to become parents all the easier. No, there really was no reason to mourn how his life had developed – except maybe the fact that sleeping in on any day was simply impossible.

Although, it was a nice start into a day, Hiccup mused as he washed remains of raw batter from Bri's fingers. Fun and comfortable, and he refused to be nervous in any way. Astrid had said she'd be back until today, and even though he'd been eagerly waiting for the sound of her footsteps for days now, he wouldn’t let any dark thoughts cloud his mind. Bri was enough to keep him occupied otherwise anyway. As usual.

He was just done laying the table for their breakfast, when a knock was audible from the front door. His head whipped up, and anticipation filled his heart as he hurried over to open the door. Of course, Astrid would be able to let herself in. But maybe she'd hurt her arm and couldn't do so? That had already happened once or twice.

When he reached the foyer, however, he directly saw through the milky glass of the door that the huge person with dark hair wasn't Astrid.

“Happy birthday, neighbour!” Eret greeted him with a wide grin across the loaded box in his arms, and Hiccup stepped aside to let him in.

“Hey, Eret. Thanks. For remembering and for...” he vaguely gestured toward the box that contained his usual purchases, fresh vegetables and fruits, meat, eggs, flour, and other things. Eret tended to get them for him when he had time to spare, and Hiccup was endlessly grateful for every single time he didn’t need to do so himself.

“No problem. It's not like I have much else to do when I’m off duty,” Eret called back cheerfully from where he'd already placed the box onto the kitchen counter.

“Uncle Eret!” Bri exclaimed as she came running, and wrapped her short arms around one of Eret's knees in greeting. “Do you want to eat breakfast with us?”

Eret sniffed exaggeratedly into the direction of the hearth, then grinned down at Bri. “Oh, are you having pancakes?”

“Yes, daddy and I made them!” she announced proudly, looking so much like her mother with her tiny golden curls and the big blue eyes that it almost hurt.

“Well, then I bet they are delicious.” Eret threw Hiccup a questioning look, and upon receiving a shrug and a nod replied, “And I'd love to have one.”

Smiling to himself as Bri chatted non-stop to Eret, Hiccup went to get an additional plate and forced himself not to be disappointed. Eret was a good friend and always good company.

And Astrid had said she'd come today. He could be patient.

…

“Hey, my boy. Is everything all right?”

Hiccup blinked, then forcefully tore his gaze away from the front window to focus on his mother instead. She had an oddly worried expression on her face, and Hiccup made an effort to pull himself together again.

“Yes, mum, everything's fine. I just…” He took a deep breath, and ran his hand through his hair. “Well, I'd hoped Astrid would have come back by now.” It wasn’t even noon yet. There was still time. No need to panic.

Valka's features softened, and she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know exactly what you mean,” she sighed, then let her eyes wander to where Stoick was playing catch with Bri. The ridiculous difference in size between the 6’9’’ man and the four-years-old girl should have given him an unfair advantage, but the truth was that his not being able to catch her wasn't an act at all. Bri was fast. “I remember all too well how jarring it is to always wait…”

Her eyes clouded a bit, and Hiccup was reminded that he wasn't the first or only one to ever go through something like this. His father was a veteran, so yes, his mother understood his pain. As did many of his friends.

But that knowledge didn't help. Not at all.

His shoulders slumped, eyes closing on their own accord. It would pass. She'd be back soon, he was just overreacting. This wasn’t the first time she was gone, after all.

“You look tired, son,” Valka's voice tore him back into the here and now a minute later. “How about this: we take Bri to the playground and get some snacks on our way back, and you go upstairs and get some rest. Because you look like you need it, and I'm sure there won't be much time for that later.”

Hiccup took a deep breath and let it out again. The idea was tempting, just closing his eyes for ten minutes or so, taking a nap and refuelling. But then he shook his head. “No, I'm fine. I don't want to miss her if–”

“Ah, don't be daft, boy,” Valka chided him gently. “How likely is it for her to come back at exactly this moment? Who knows where she was sent this time, it could be weeks before she returns. Are you planning on staying awake that long?”

Hiccup bit his lip and, letting his gaze drop to the floor, shook his head. Astrid had said she'd be back until today… But that wasn't exactly something he could tell anyone. She'd broken who knew how many laws by uttering these few words, and Hiccup surely wouldn't betray her trust.

So he gave in, waved Bri and his parents goodbye as they wandered down the street, and after placing a simple note onto the table in case she would return now after all, slumped down on the double bed that always seemed to grow bigger and emptier the longer Astrid was gone.

He'd barely drifted off into slumber when a pair of small but strong hands caressed his back and a soft voice whispered into his ear. “Hey babe,” she breathed, her voice the sweetest of sounds, and Hiccup felt as if a huge weight was lifted off his chest. Astrid was back!

Humming, he leaned back against her behind him, seeking her warmth and reassurance. Astrid giggled, let her hands run down his back, and Hiccup quickly turned to pull her into a tight embrace and a kiss. He could hardly make out her lithe body beneath the fabric of the blanket, barely felt her warmth, and his arms tightened to pull her closer. Gods, he needed her, needed to know that she was…

Suddenly, she was gone. As if she'd dissolved into thin air. Hiccup blinked into the dimmed light around him, at the crumpled blanket in his arms – and the empty room beyond.

With an agonised groan, he fell back into the cushions, and buried his face in his hands.

Astrid wasn’t back.

It had been nothing but a pipedream…

…

“Happy birthday!”

Hiccup smiled at the small group at the front door, even as he fought to not let his disappointment show. “Thanks, guys,” he said and waved them in, pointing Atali to the kitchen where his mother took the big salad bowl from her.

At least it had been just his friends, just Mala, Atali, Dagur, and Scott. Sure, he’d rather welcome Astrid back, but this was still better than.. than the alternative. Rubbing one hand over his face in an attempt to wipe that thought away, Hiccup closed the front door again and joined his friends in the living room and kitchen. They’d all come for him, after all, for his birthday. Not that he had invited them or had planned anything in advance, but that was just how it often was. They were a tight group around here, everybody knowing everybody else. And always happy to have a reason to come together.

But as happy as the gathering was – with everyone having brought some sort of food, Bri and the other kids cheerfully playing in the garden, and the highlight undoubtedly being the big chocolate cake Hiccup had baked with Bri the day before – he couldn’t quite enjoy it all. And it was more than his usual introverted nature that kept telling him that there were too many people around.

As much as he tried, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering roads he’d rather wish they didn’t. ‘If everything goes smoothly, I'm going to be back for your birthday.’ That had been her words. But a considerable part of his birthday was already over, and she still wasn't back. Where did that leave them?

If everything goes smoothly…

So things hadn't gone smoothly then? What did that even mean? Had there been complications? Had she gotten delayed for a day or three? Or was she injured? How badly? Or was she…

The doorbell rang, thankfully interrupting that particular thought, but it still left a bad aftertaste in his mind. And it got only worse when he spotted the outline of two people in dark clothes through the door.

“No…” he gasped, inaudible to everyone but him. “No, please not…” It was a constant fear, opening the door to some formally dressed agents with that sorrowful look in their eyes…

He stood frozen solid, staring at the door with his heart racing and his breathing becoming ragged. No, this couldn’t be. It couldn’t!

The bell rang again and someone pushed past him, opening the door.

“Hey, thanks. We almost thought you wouldn’t want us at this party. Hey, H! Happy birthday!” Tuff clapped a hand on his shoulder in passing, followed by Ruff lightly punching his upper arm. They both grinned at him, then went to mingle with the others, their trademark torn black clothes standing out amidst the crowd, but nobody minded.

Hiccup took a deep breath and slowly let it out again to calm his nerves. Astrid was all right. She would come back. He wouldn’t let himself believe anything else, or he would go insane. She had to be safe… She just had to!

…

“Sleep well, little monkey. Love you.” Hiccup placed a soft kiss on Bri’s temple, which made her smile even with her eyes closed and her being half asleep already.

“Love you too, daddy.”

Hiccup quietly closed the door behind him, and let out a sigh. His birthday was over. All guests had left after having helped to clean up the worst mess, and Bri was in bed, all without him having a complete meltdown. That was an accomplishment, right?

But what now?

Quickly, he went into the kitchen, putting away bits and pieces to distract himself as he prepared a cup of tea. The day wasn’t entirely over just yet… right? A glance at the oven clock told him there were still four hours left. Maybe she would still come, maybe all his anxiety was for nothing.

After throwing another log into the fireplace – Astrid loved the cosy warmth of a fire – he carried his mug toward the window that faced the street. He would wait for her. Surely, she’d be back any minute. Surely, she would… He took a sip of his tea, wincing as it was just a tiny bit too hot for his taste, and settle to lean against the wall and watch the street outside. She had to come back…

After a while, the lights of a car illuminating the darkness outside made him perk up, his heart skipping a painful beat and then racing as if to make up for it. “Astrid,” he gasped, pressing his free hand against the glass as if to reach out for her.

But the car driving down the quiet side street they lived in wasn’t one of the usual black limousines. Instead, it was the once-white-now-dirty estate car of the Ingermans, passing their house until they halted a few houses further down.

Whimpering, Hiccup leaned his forehead against the cool window, breathing raggedly. Gods, he was a mess. What was he doing here? This wasn’t the first time Astrid was gone, and it wouldn’t be the last time either. This was just the same as always, she would be back when her task was done. There was no need to worry. But he couldn’t quite suppress the sense of panic rising inside him, the same that had lingered all day, except it was getting stronger now. Not being content with just simmering beneath the surface anymore.

Because this wasn’t like it usually was. She should be back by now, he knew that. And the fact that she wasn’t… “Please,” he begged to nobody in particular. “Please, don’t do that to us. Please…” But of course, there was no-one to answer him. No voice from above, no distant lightning, no ray of light – no other car pulling up in front of their house. There was nobody he could call and ask, he wouldn’t get an answer anyway, and he couldn’t talk to any of his friends either.

In a sudden burst of something, Hiccup brought his fist against the wall, hard enough that it hurt and a low thump was audible. “Dammit!” he cursed under his breath. “Dammit, she’d been supposed to be kept safe!” A single tear of desperation ran down his cheek, and he bit his lip to keep in the sob that was threatening to tear itself from his throat. This couldn’t be happening.

“Astrid, where are you?” he murmured weakly, all strength leaving him after that burst just now calmed down. “I can’t imagine a world without you. Please come back. Please…”

But the street stayed dark and silent.

Hiccup wasn’t sure for how long he stood there, watching, waiting, and hoping. But when he took another sip of his tea, the brew that had been too hot just now was suddenly cold, almost icy even. Sighing defeatedly, he stumbled away from the window. His leg hurt from standing still for so long, but he barely noticed it. For a short moment, he contemplated going upstairs and try to get some sleep. Maybe, tomorrow things would look differently. But the mere thought of lying alone in that big cold bed was more than he could bear right now. So instead, he stayed where he was, sitting on the sofa’s edge, head propped up on his fists pressed to his lips, and stared into the dying flames of the fire.

. o O o .

So, yeah... There's a third and last part coming... soon... :|

#Hiccstrid #Modern AU #Keep Her Safe #KHS #Military AU #Married Hiccstrid #Dadcup #Hurt/Comfort #All The Feels #HTTYD #fanfiction #Angst #Romance #Fluff

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heavengreys · 2 years ago

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Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode movie#

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode portable#

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode professional#

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Many, if not all, of these other cars were featured as well, though the remaining details escape me as to which was used for which:ġ969 Corvette Dragster Twin Turbo (owner Steve Keech pictured):Ģ007 GMC Sierra SLT Turbo Diesel (with owner Shawn Koss and Mr. This 2005 Porsche Carrera GT was used for Bumblebee:Ī 2003 Hummer H2 was used for Optimus Prime (owner John Corcoran pictured): Optimus Prime no longer needed to be a tractor trailer, nor Bumblebee a Camaro or Volkswagen, so we chose the basis of these characters’ vehicle modes mainly on the character of some of these auditions that Watson was providing.

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode portable#

One of Watson’s specialties is recording cars, and once we contacted him, the man was out with a portable recorder auditioning several models for us right away to see what we think would work for each of the Cybertronian vehicle classes in the game.

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode professional#

So funny how you can miss the mark sometimes! Wu to the Rescueĭespite the fact that the Transformers’ vehicular modes were now going to be very different from their Earth-born disguises, including hovering being a key feature, we wanted to keep the vehicles’ sound grounded in reality, which meant we needed better source.Įven though we would have loved to seek out and record several vehicles on our own to gather this material, due to our condensed development cycle for the game, we decided to work with another industry professional that seemed to have quite a few connections in the vehicle arena – Watson Wu. Sure enough, that sound became the basis for the tank class and remains relatively untouched since that initial day. When I was sure I was done, I played it for some of the guys and the first thing Mike said was, “that’s cool, but it sounds more like a tank”.Ī… tank? Here I was focusing on trying to get something zippy-sounding for a smaller sci-fi car and it ended up being this heavy-sounding vehicle instead. It was multiple looping tracks, meticulously-crossfaded together at differing speeds, heavily processed with varying degrees of MondoMod, MetaFlanger and Enigma (three Waves plug-ins that I finally got to “dust off” after years of neglect). The first vehicle form I tackled was the class that was to represent Bumblebee in the game.

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode zip#

With the robots no longer needing the ability to transform into human-designed vehicles for disguise purposes as they did on Earth, this opened up the sonic palette quite a bit to experiment with what it might sound like for these Cybertronian citizens to zip around in their own vehicle form, aligned with their own advanced civilization and technology. Instead, the focus would be on the Transformers’ home world, Cybertron, as we jumped into the story of what happened before coming to Earth, an area not thoroughly-covered by Hasbro’s existing canon. However, we soon learned that the story of the game wasn’t going to take place on Earth at all. Still, I prided myself on getting all sorts of tractor trailer squeaks and hisses ready for Optimus Prime and muscle car engine audio ready for Bumblebee. At least much that’s usable from a game standpoint. As anyone who’s done this knows, there isn’t much to work with. Fun times indeed!Īs the vehicle technology behind the “Bourne” game’s Mini Cooper was being expanded and improved to make a vehicle mode viable for Transformers combat and transportation, I began editing all of the best vehicle source we had from the overused commercial libraries most sound people are familiar with out there. Much of that was in anticipation of creating a whole new soundscape of material that didn’t exist much in our libraries with the prior game titles we had worked on. In the very beginning, we weren’t sure what the story was going to be, but that didn’t stop us from jumping in and recording a new library’s worth of material in a few short weeks. Finally I had the chance to work in the science fiction genre, something I’d always wanted to do. When Activision handed down the “Transformers” mantle to us after “The Bourne Conspiracy” was released, we knew this was going to be quite a bit different than anything the studio had done before…and FUN.

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode movie#

The battle between the Autobots and the Decepticons has raged on for decades now, with seemingly no end in sight, and we still line up to see it, be it new toy line, game, and movie releases. “Transformers” is a mega-hit franchise for Hasbro with a huge fan base fueled by cartoons that beckoned to us in our formative years during the 80’s.

#Transformers war for cybertron clocker vehicle mode

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swimmingwolf59 · 7 years ago

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On a Raven’s Black Wing Chapter 2

Ronan doesn’t know what brings him back to the pet store, but here he is.

Okay, no, that’s a lie, and Ronan doesn’t lie – especially not to himself. He’s here because the fucking guy working at the pet store who is too beautiful for comprehension made him forget most of what he’d come in to buy yesterday, so Ronan had to suck it up and come back.

When he came back to Monmouth with nothing but two bags of birdfeed and a dazed expression on his face, Gansey had of course questioned him about it. Ronan wasn’t ready to answer the question how could you have forgotten almost everything, as he was hardly even out to himself, so he’d just shrugged before holing himself up in his room for hours.

He’d eventually come back out for food, and when he did Gansey had taken a spectacular record of two seconds to convince him that he needed to go back.

He was better off not knowing that there was another boy, a dusty-haired adorable boy that was much better at convincing him to go back.

And that guy didn’t even have to try.

Before Ronan actually goes inside the pet store the second time, though, he spends a ridiculously long time sitting in his car in the parking lot, chewing on his wristbands. He can see that boy moving around in the shop windows, his fucking adorable German Shepherd following him around as he goes. Ronan sits there for about ten minutes watching him, feeling like a creep, and curses the boy the entire time.

He’s spent his whole life up to this point denying what his body had always known to be true, keeping it such a tight secret that he hadn’t even really consciously known until recently. He’d vehemently denied himself from ever wondering why he found himself looking at broad shoulders instead of boobs, at day-old stubble instead of makeup. Maybe he would’ve gone on denying it forever if that fucking guy in the fucking pet store wasn’t so goddamn beautiful.

He wouldn’t have had to go into the pet store at all if it wasn’t for the dumbass bird poking through an abandoned chip bag in the backseat. While Chainsaw is one of the best things he’s ever taken out of his dreams, it had quickly become evident that he didn’t have the means to take care of her. So that night, while Gansey was also racked with insomnia, they sat together in the giant replica of Henrietta and looked up nearby stores that could give Ronan what he needed to make sure Chainsaw, a warm heartbeat cupped in his hands, survived. And that had led him to the only pet store in the entire town, a small, shabby looking place running along the main street that Gansey had been quick to add to his model, for future reference he insisted.

Ronan hadn’t expected much when he’d finally mustered up the energy to go, but he definitely hadn’t expected to walk in and find a cute boy completely passed out at the cash register. Ronan’s heart had stuttered so hard that Chainsaw had cawed a concerned Kerah? at him, and it made him angry. He had enough shit to deal with without getting a fucking boner over the guy running the pet store.

And so, of course when the boy jolted awake and sent him that completely adorable sleepy smile, Ronan had no choice but to glower back in an attempt to hide how flustered he was.

And, like everything else in his life, the rest of the trip was a complete disaster. He’d hoped to run through the store, grab everything he needed, and check out in as short of a time as possible so he wouldn’t have time to focus on the shape of the employee’s cheekbones or the broad expanse of his shoulder blades, not that he’d noticed any of that in the first place. But of course, Chainsaw had to ruin it; knocking all of that shit on the ground, forcing him into an interaction with that cute boy that Ronan had had no idea how to handle. It’s his default to be an asshole, but for once in his life he hadn’t wanted to be; he wanted to be witty and charming, like his dad used to be, to leave a good impression on the boy who was forcefully dragging him out of the closet. But apparently when he was so flustered he hardly knew what to say, the only things that could come out of his mouth were jabs and insults, his defensive walls rising so quickly and thoroughly around him that he wouldn’t have been able to lower them even if he’d tried.

Instead of coming off as interesting and attractive, he’d just been a grade A asshole. And he’s pretty sure he pissed that boy off, ruining anything that could’ve been.

Which is probably for the best, as Ronan seriously doubts there would’ve been anything, anyway.

It doesn’t stop him from thinking about that boy’s laugh when he’d seen Chainsaw and the German Shepherd playing tug of war together, which had nearly killed him yesterday and seems no better for his heart today. It doesn’t stop him from thinking about how warm that boy’s hands had been when their fingers had brushed awkwardly during the credit card exchange. It doesn’t stop him from thinking about how he’s going to have to go in there again and that he’s probably going to make a giant fool of himself. It doesn’t stop him from thinking that he really doesn’t want to make a bad impression this time.

Goddammit, why does this have to be so hard? Why can’t he just not care what that damn boy thinks, like with everybody else? What happened to his cool, nonchalant façade, the one that’s brave enough to flaunt into that pet store like nothing happened yesterday instead of sitting in his car like a loser?

He’s borderline panicking, so much so that he almost calls Gansey. However, he has no idea where his phone is and just the thought of a Dad Talk is enough to get him to muster his courage and finally get out of the damn car.

When he walks into the pet shop, that unfairly beautiful employee has settled at the ferret pen, kneeling as he apparently tries to clean their enclosure. “Tries” isn’t anything against the employee’s skill, as he seems to be stubbornly cleaning to the best of his ability under the given circumstances, but more to the fact that the ferrets are literally trying to climb up his arms. The ferrets seem overjoyed that the employee has come to play with them, their tails puffed up and their vocalizations nearly deafening with all of them squeaking at once. Two of the ferrets are dancing around, pouncing on the employee’s hands and trying to pinch the loose skin there while the other three bound up and down his arms, squeaking and rolling each other playfully.

They’re painfully cute, and Ronan finds himself smiling at their antics. When his eyes trail upwards, however, his heart clenches painfully at the happy and amused little smile on the employee’s face. He hadn’t smiled at all yesterday and it’s slowly wrecking Ronan just seeing it now. He just about dies when the employee makes little kissy faces at the ferrets, his voice pitched ridiculously high like humans so often do when talking to overexcited animals, “Hey guys, did you miss me? I missed you!”

Jesus fuck. Ronan feels like he’s going to keel over if he has to watch this any longer, so he forces himself to move along, his face burning. As he attempts to casually pass by the employee, hoping to God that he’s too involved with the ferrets to notice him, he side-eyes him and catches a glimpse of his nametag. Adam, it says.

Adam.

Chainsaw flutters restlessly in the crook of his elbow, and he strokes her beak to calm her as he stalks towards the birdfeed aisle. He bought more than any bird would ever need yesterday, but he hopes that the other things he needs are also down this aisle. As they turn the corner, he hisses lowly to Chainsaw so that the store attendant—Adam— can’t hear. “If you knock a bunch of birdseed onto the floor again I’m sending you back to the dream world!”

She just chortles, as if that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard, before hopping onto his shoulder and ducking into the hood of Ronan’s hoodie. It’s her favorite hiding spot, and Ronan wouldn’t be at all surprised if one day he flipped up the hood and a pile of bird shit and food scraps came showering down onto his head. Either that or she’ll eventually dig her way through the fabric, with how eagerly she picks at the threads.

He thinks about flipping his hood up suddenly just to mess with her when a soft voice behind him makes him jump. “Can I help you?”

He spins around. It’s Adam – of course it is. There’s no one else in the store. He grimaces; he’d really been hoping he could avoid another confrontation. “Just browsing.”

It’s not technically a lie, as Ronan is browsing, having taken one look at Adam and completely forgetting what he’d come in to buy.

Adam raises an eyebrow, which only serves to draw Ronan’s attention to the adorable splash of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Fuck! Why did he have to embarrass himself in front of the cutest fucking guy ever?! The beginnings of a smirk twitch Adam’s lips upwards, apparently amused by Ronan’s struggle. “Oh? Since you were just here yesterday I assumed you forgot something.”

“I did. A birdcage. For this asshole.” He indicates Chainsaw, as if it wasn’t obvious, and then feels incredibly stupid. He’s relieved to have at least remembered one thing, but he has still managed to forget what the rest of what he’d forgotten to get yesterday was, which really only proves how unstable his mind is at the moment. It doesn’t help that he’d barely slept, and when he had he’d brought a half-dead night terror back with him that he’d then had to kill and bury in the yard, all without waking Gansey.

“You didn’t have the supplies for her already?” Adam seems surprised, and Ronan glowers.

“I just found her a couple of days ago.”

Adam’s eyebrows shoot up. “You found her? Like on the side of the road?”

Ronan doesn’t lie, but he can’t tell the truth either, so he just continues to glower. Adam seems to take his silence as a confirmation, which Ronan is more than happy to let him believe. Adam frowns as he reaches up to gently stroke his finger against the soft feathers along Chainsaw’s beak. His hand is unreasonably close to the back of Ronan’s neck, making him involuntarily shudder. He expects Chainsaw to caw out a warning, like she does at Gansey, but instead she leans into the touch, making a low, content croaking sound in her throat.

Ronan is dumbfounded.

“You’re not supposed to pick up baby birds if they’ve fallen out of their nest in case their mother is still around,” Adam says. Ronan nearly growls at him, but the other boy continues before he can, “Have you taken her to the vet at least? To make sure she’s alright?”

He knows for a fact that she’s alright, as she had come out of his head, and even if she wasn’t no vet would be able to help her, but he can’t say that either. His silence is again apparently telling, and Adam’s frown pinches his forehead into cute little lines that Ronan is trying very hard not to stare at. Eventually he holds out his hand to Chainsaw. “Can I…?”

Usually Ronan would say no, but Chainsaw has already shown that she doesn’t mind Adam’s presence, and to be honest Ronan doesn’t either. So he angles his back towards Adam’s hand, encouraging the baby raven to hop out of the hood and onto Adam’s wrist. She carefully rubs her beak along his large knuckles, which Ronan suddenly notices with an aching and alarming shoot of arousal.

While Adam inspects Chainsaw, Ronan inspects Adam’s hands, following scars up and down his long fingers and staring at the rough and raw beauty of his wrists. He half-listens to Adam rambling on about signs for bird illness, too caught up in watching as Adam’s slightly crooked fingers, as if they’d been broken before, gently lift Chainsaw’s wings, apparently checking if she has any lumps on her body or overly ruffled feathers. After finding nothing, he leans in closer to Chainsaw’s face to check her eyes or some shit like that. Ronan in turn checks out Adam’s eyes, wondering about the odd but attractive blue color of them. He wonders what would happen if he said they were pretty, but is luckily distracted from that horrible thought as Adam uses a scarred finger to pet Chainsaw’s head, smiling as the raven croaks and leans into his touch.

Ronan suddenly feels like he has to sit down. The intimacy of watching Adam’s beautiful hands inspect his mind’s creation feels too intense to handle.

“She looks okay, but you should really get her checked out just in case,” Adam says eventually, breaking Ronan out of his reverie. He holds up his hand so Chainsaw can hop onto Ronan’s shoulder, which the raven does happily before burrowing herself into the crook of Ronan’s neck. Her body is warm and her heartbeat is soothing against his skin; he focuses on her presence to ground himself before he drowns in the expanse of Adam’s freckles. There’s even one right in the center of the knuckle of his thumb, which really shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

Fucking hell.

“Anyway, you said you needed a birdcage, right? We have several to choose from.” Adam walks off down the aisle and Ronan follows after him in a daze. He can’t focus, and walking behind Adam is definitely not helping that. His gaze is so obviously focused downwards that for a moment he doesn’t even notice that Adam has stopped walking, almost crashing into him. “What kind of cage were you looking for? Flight cage, dometop, classic?”

When Ronan just stares blankly at him, Adam rolls his eyes before focusing on Chainsaw, studying her. “Your raven is definitely the active type and she seems to enjoy lots of interaction, so you’ll want a dometop or a playtop… And since you found her outdoors, she’ll want to be outside more often than not, so you should probably get a playtop. And a pretty big one, since a raven’s wingspan can grow to almost five feet…”

Ronan doesn’t have an inkling of an idea how to contribute to this conversation, so he just lets Adam continue rambling as he reaches up to finger the various cages lined along the wall. Ronan definitely doesn’t watch the way his back muscles stretch as he does. “These ones are the most solid construction-wise, which I think would be good for such an active raven… This one has larger access doors, but this one comes with convenient feeder doors…”

Suddenly Adam turns to Ronan inquisitively. “Do you prefer swing-out doors or hinged doors?”

Ronan raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”

What he doesn’t say is that he could listen to Adam ramble on and on for hours.

Adam frowns at that, and Ronan maybe feels guilty. Just a little bit. “You should give a fuck, since she’s your fucking raven.”

He has the guts to stand up to him; Ronan is deeply impressed. He didn’t think he would find someone brave enough to fight back with him in the dusty corners of Henrietta. “…Just pick what you think is best.”

Adam looks like he’s contemplating how best to murder Ronan for a moment before turning back to the birdcages. His brow is furrowed even more than before, as if he’d been given the biggest puzzle of his life, as he mutters to himself and examines each one of the birdcages. Chainsaw starts to fuss on Ronan’s shoulder, ruffling her wings and starting to make strange clucking sounds in the back of her throat. Having come prepared, Ronan digs a chip out of the cluttered expanse of his sweatshirt pocket and tosses it up in the air, watching her black wings stretch gracefully as she leaps into the air to reach for it. She clasps the chip in her beak before landing on the shelf near Adam’s head, depositing it onto the shelf and pecking at it curiously.

Ronan watches her fondly before realizing that Adam is done picking out a cage and is staring at him strangely. Feeling embarrassed again, Ronan clears his throat and forces himself to meet the other boy’s gaze head on. Adam’s eyebrow rises slightly before he says, “Is there anything else?”

Adam helps Ronan pick out some perches to go in the cage, some cleaning supplies for the cage, a water dish, and a large variety of little toys for Chainsaw, including a tattered blanket with a hamburger on it (“because she’s American,” Ronan had insisted, when Adam had rolled his eyes at the selection) for her to peck to pieces instead of Ronan’s sweatshirt, before they’re finally heading to the register. Ronan has been long ready to leave, as he seriously thinks that being in Adam’s presence for this long is giving him heart disease. Adam’s eye rolls are addicting with how attractive he is when he does it, and his little smirks whenever Ronan says or does something stupid is almost too much to handle.

Ronan needs to get out of here as quickly as possible so he can lie down somewhere and contemplate the complicated direction his life has taken. Or scream and throw things at the wall. Whichever.

As Adam’s ringing him up, his adorable dog comes out from behind the counter, wagging her tail as she looks up at Ronan expectedly. Ronan grins upon seeing her; he’s always loved dogs, ever since he was a child. He loves all animals really, a result of his upbringing on a farm no doubt where countless of dogs and other animals ran around the grounds at all times.

He’s especially always had a soft spot for German Shepherds, however.

Carefully kneeling down, he reaches out to scratch behind the dog’s ears. It’s only as he pats down her neck, however, that he notices the service-dog vest strapped around her torso. He freezes for a second, frowning in confusion. He’s pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a vest yesterday…but even so, it means she’s with Adam because he has some kind of disability, right? As he side-glances the beautiful boy punching in numbers on the cash register, he can’t help but wonder what he needs a service dog for. He remembers him flinching when he’d come up on his left side the other day, but he’d thought that was just because he’d startled him by suddenly being so close. Could it be that it’s actually because he’s got some kind of problem hearing…?

Not that he’s going to ask.

Instead he resumes petting the dog and asks, “What’s this little rascal’s name?”

“Hm?” Adam glances down at him, obviously distracted, before a warm smile lights up on his face. Ronan’s heart stops dead for a moment before he realizes Adam is looking at the dog, not him. “Oh, that’s Holly. She’s real friendly.”

Something of a Southern drawl comes out in that last sentence that Ronan’s never heard before, and his heart squeezes tightly. Goddammit, why does everything new he finds out about this boy just make him feel like setting himself on fire?!

He fiercely ignores the affection rising in his chest and instead moves his hands down to rub along Holly’s belly. The dog yelps happily, eagerly rolling onto her back and displaying her belly for Ronan to rub. “Holly, huh? Who’s a good girl, Holly, is it you??”

Ronan is so busy giving Holly the best belly rubs of her life that he almost misses it when Adam doubles over himself laughing. When it does register, though, Ronan’s breath completely leaves him; Adam is beautiful when he laughs, with his face freer than it usually is and his mouth wide open to show rows of beautiful, white teeth. He’s gaping so much that Holly has to whine to get his attention to pet her again, and he almost forgets that he’s supposed to be embarrassed as he resumes petting her. It takes him a while to drag up the façade, but he eventually growls out, “What the hell is so funny?”

“It’s just—” Adam can’t seem to stop laughing, even to speak, and Ronan wonders if God would strike him down right there if he kissed him. “Aren’t you supposed to be like, a scary gangster or something? And instead you’re here fussing over my dog!”

Ronan does feel embarrassed then, realizing how wide open he’s left himself to this complete stranger. Standing up abruptly, he shoves his hands into his pockets and pastes on his best glower. “I am a scary gangster!”

Adam just rolls his eyes, his sides still shaking with laughter, and fuck him he looks beautiful even doing that. “Whatever you say, Lynch.”

Ronan startles, dropping his fake gangster act in an instant as he stares wide-eyed at Adam, who at least has the decency to look embarrassed. “How the fuck do you know my name?”

“I…I looked at your credit card yesterday,” Adam admits, a faint flush on his cheeks. It pronounces his freckles and Ronan feels dizzy.

“What’s your name?” Ronan breathes, and he doesn’t quite catch the words back in time to hide how interested he is. He tries to play it off nonchalantly anyway by adding, “It’s only fair, since you know my name.”

Smooth, Ronan. Real fucking smooth.

“Adam Parrish,” Adam says quietly. Ronan has the sudden unexplainable urge to go running down the sidewalk screaming this beautiful boy’s name to get rid of the energy about to explode out of his chest.

“Well, Parrish,” Ronan says after a painful beat of silence. He doesn’t trust himself to call him Adam; he knows he won’t be able to hide his feelings if he does. “I can be a scary gangster and still like dogs. Hating dogs is just immoral.”

Adam’s small smile then is worth every moment Ronan has ever embarrassed himself in front of him. Jesus Christ. “I think so too. If someone says they hate dogs I immediately don’t trust them.”

“Damn straight.”

The silence that stretches after that feels slightly awkward, if only because Ronan feels like he should try and keep the conversation going and doesn’t know how. He angrily wonders why he even cares, but he knows why, and the feeling eats away at him from the inside. Dammit, why does he have to be like this?

Adam breaks the silence briefly to tell Ronan the total price, but he still can’t think of anything to say so he just wordlessly hands his credit card over. He doesn’t even really register the price, it doesn’t matter to him, and instead focuses on picking up the bags from the counter. Chainsaw flies out from the aisle she’d been exploring and lights down onto his shoulder, pecking his neck in greeting.

Ronan glances up at Adam to find him already looking back. Awkwardness creeps up in his chest again, but his face is carefully neutral as he says, “Well, Parrish. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Have fun doing scary gangster things.”

Ronan has to bite back a smile at that one, but he doesn’t quite succeed. “Oh trust me, I will. I’ve been looking forward to my shenanigans all day.”

Adam rolls his eyes, one final twist of the knife in Ronan’s heart. “Don’t scandalize any old ladies.”

“I make no promises.” Ronan smirks devilishly as he begins to walk towards the door. His heart doesn’t really want to leave, but his brain is already desperate to be out, desperate to get away from this boy who makes him feel so incredibly exposed.

Chainsaw caws at Adam on their way out, like a farewell, and Ronan’s smirk falls back into a fond smile.

He smiles all the way until he pulls back into the parking lot at Monmouth, and then it completely drops into a heavy scowl when he sees Declan’s Volvo parked next to the Pig.

Damn, he is so not ready for this.

He contemplates sitting in the car or driving out somewhere else, but goddammit he’s tired and just wants to lie in bed with a beer and think about Adam. So he reluctantly gets out of the car, picks up Chainsaw and all of her supplies from the passenger seat, and slams the door shut extra hard. The noise sets a car alarm off somewhere across the street and Ronan grins, satisfied that everyone else can now be as irritated as he is.

Banging the door to Monmouth open with his boot, Ronan stalks in, fully intent on ignoring Declan entirely and retreating to his room. However, he hadn’t been expecting his older brother to be standing right near the door, so Declan practically corners him before Ronan can even move out of the doorway. Gansey is hovering near the couch, thumb to his lip and his brow creased in concern. He looks irritated too, as irritated as a Gansey is allowed to look, and Ronan wonders with a hot flash of anger how long fucking Declan has been here bothering him. It’s no secret that the brothers don’t get along, but Declan could at least leave Gansey out of it.

Lip curling, Ronan bares his teeth at his brother, ready to start throwing punches already. Declan looks about ready to start a fight too, and Ronan childishly hopes he does.

“Ronan, where the hell have you been? You obviously didn’t go to school—” Declan stops abruptly and ogles Chainsaw perched on Ronan’s shoulder. “…Is that a crow?”

“No, she’s a raven you dumb shit,” Ronan just about growls. Chainsaw caws indignantly from his shoulder.

Declan looks furious, which fills Ronan with glee. “Ronan, what have I told you about—?” He breaks off again, suddenly seeming to remember that Gansey is in the room with them. A blissfully ignorant Gansey that Ronan wants to keep that way. “Never mind, we’ll discuss that later. I came here to talk about the fact that someone has been trespassing at the Barns.”

Ronan gasps dramatically. “No!”

Declan rolls his eyes, which disturbingly reminds Ronan of Adam. “Don’t even bother, I know it was you.”

“You have no proof.”

“If you didn’t want me to know it was you, you shouldn’t have left your damn bedsheets a mess! Not only that, but your hair is still in the bathroom wastebasket from the last time you shaved your head, which looking at you right now was rather recent!” Declan shouts, already fed up. Ronan feels proud of being able to work him up so quickly. “It was obvious you were there!”

“’It was obvious you were there,’” Ronan mocks under his breath.

Declan looks absolutely murderous. “Goddammit Ronan, why do you always do this? You know damn well what dad’s will says!”

Yes, he does – that damn thing gives him nightmares. Ronan still can’t figure out why his dad would ban them from the only place he’s ever felt like he belonged, or why he felt like he needed to write the same sentence twice in two different languages:

This will stands as fact unless a newer document is created.

It drives him fucking nuts.

“It just doesn’t make any sense – why the fuck would dad kick us out of our own home?!” Ronan shouts, angry and feeling the need to punch something. Declan looks more and more like a likely candidate as time goes by.

“Don’t ask me why dad did what he did because I don’t know! I never knew!” To Ronan’s surprise, Declan looks bitter for a moment before his face falls back into the carefully neutral mask that is more familiar.

It drives Ronan up the wall realizing that he and Declan are similar in that regard, and his fists curl at his sides.

Declan must’ve noticed him do it because he abruptly looks tired, like dealing with this exhausts him down to his very bones. Ronan wonders why he even bothers, if it gives him so much of a headache; they never make any progress, just have the same damn arguments all of the time, and Ronan would be just fine if Declan fucked off and he never saw him again. The only thing keeping them together anymore is Ronan’s desire to see Matthew and Declan’s apparent reluctance to separate the three of them, despite the rifts. “Look, Ronan, just stay off the property for a while, alright? I’m doing my best to work with the lawyers and get this all settled out, but you’re not helping matters by breaking and entering illegally all the goddamn time.”

“It’s not breaking and entering if it’s our own fucking home!” Ronan shouts, surging forward with a burst of anger. He grabs Declan’s shirt collar in his fist, dragging him closer. “And you’re not doing jack shit! If you truly cared about the Barns you would’ve sorted this out already!”

Declan grabs Ronan’s shirt back and nearly drags him off his feet when he pulls him forward; Ronan hates that Declan is just that much stronger than him. “Do not fucking stand there and talk to me like you know anything about law! At least I’m trying to do something – what are you doing? Just fucking around and getting drunk, which I can assure you, does nothing to get the Barns back! If you truly cared about the Barns maybe you wouldn’t be sitting on your ass every damn day!!”

Ronan recoils like he’s been slapped. His hands are shaking from the force of his anger and he can hardly process anything, just Declan and his stupid fucking face and his words that ring too close to home. All he can think about is his desire to get in a fight, and he’s stepping forwards with his fist raised before he even knows what’s happening.

But suddenly, Gansey is at his side, holding him back, his clammy hands covering Ronan’s burning fist. “Ronan, no. Please.”

Ronan hates that he can never say no to Gansey. He wants to beat the shit out of Declan because he needs to get rid of this anger, this pain, but going against Gansey is completely against Ronan’s moral code. So he drops his fist, sends Declan one last menacing glare, and pushes past him to storm into his room. He haphazardly drops Chainsaw’s supplies on the floor and sets the raven gently down on his bed. Afterwards he stalks out to the kitchen/bathroom/laundry to grab a beer and then stomps through the living room again to go right back outside, slamming the door behind him.

As usual after a Declan visit, he goes for a drive.

The exhaustion he felt earlier is replaced with an omnipresent anger, throbbing under his veins and pulsing to the beat of his EDM. He hates this situation and he hates Declan for always having to rub his nose in it when all he wants is to go home. All he wants is to sit in the field at the Barns and listen to the cows moo and the chickens cluck and forget that he has obligations outside of maintaining the only place he’s ever truly felt at home. He wants to sleep in his old room and pretend that his life never went to shit, that he doesn’t spend every day feeling like he’s in living hell. The moments he steals when he sneaks onto the property illegally isn’t enough, could never be enough, and the Barns just isn’t the same when it isn’t packed full of people, with Aurora knitting in the living room and the brothers tussling at her feet. Every inch of the property brings back memories that physically hurt Ronan, but he can’t stay away; the Barns is what makes him Ronan, more than his dreams, more than his moral code. He feels like a chunk of himself is missing when he isn’t at the Barns, making him uncomfortable and angry everywhere else.

He just wants the Barns back. And Declan only seems to want to fight Ronan on that.

So he drives. He drives until he’s pushing down the highway as fast as the BMW can go, wind whipping through him from the rolled down windows and his fingers tapping an erratic beat on the steering wheel. The long stretch of highway before he gets to his go-to runaway place is where he bleeds out his anger, his frustration, his pain, his grief, so that he feels numb and raw and ready to accept the warm wonders of the forest.

He calls it Cabeswater, because it reminds him of his dream forest, but of course it can’t be. That forest only exists in his head, and he can’t drive to it even if he wanted to. But this forest, this unnamed, strangely deserted forest, is second best, and Ronan feels a trickle of ease filter through him that’s oddly reminiscent of the Barns as he slows down upon passing the first line of trees.

Later, Ronan realizes he would’ve died if he hadn’t slowed down just then. He’s not really sure why he slowed down at all, really, just that he doesn’t like speeding through the forest, knowing very well that an animal could leap out from the trees at any moment. He also likes taking his time through there, watching out for wildlife, observing how the trees slowly change color the closer they get to fall.

He thinks he sees a raven sitting in a branch far up in the canopy, and he’s bending forward over the wheel to try and see better when something suddenly leaps out of the brush and onto the road in front of him. Both of them are going too fast for Ronan to tell what it is exactly, a deer of some sort, but luckily his body reacts before his mind does.

Slamming the brakes, Ronan veers the car wildly to the right, missing the animal by a hair. The deer-like creature startles badly as Ronan whizzes by it, and it dashes off across the road and disappears into the bushes on the other side. Ronan doesn’t even get the chance to breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t hit it before the BMW crashes headfirst into a tree.

He blacks out for a second, a minute, an hour. When he wakes up, the air bag is in his face, his phone is ringing obsessively from wherever he’d thrown it in the car sometime earlier in the week, and his mouth tastes like blood. He has neither the energy nor the spatial awareness to find his phone, so once he gets the air bag out of the way he stumbles out of the car to survey the damage. The front of the BMW is completely wrapped around the tree and there’s ominous black smoke rising from the hood.

Which means there’s no way in hell he’s going to be able to drive back to Monmouth.

Groaning, Ronan crouches onto the ground and punches his knees angrily.

God fucking dammit.

#pet shop au #pynch #trc #ronan lynch #adam parrish #chainsaw #holly the german shepherd #gansey #declan lynch #my writing

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ramblinganthropologist · 8 years ago

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My dearest pal Jenny was having a bad day and I couldn’t let that stand. Hope you like it. Summary: Throughout their travels, Sten had thought he had come to understand the woman he called his kadan. A bas song and a strange moment of miscommunication between them proves he’s still got a lot to learn, but he’s more than willing to do so. Setting: That Modern Dragon Age AU, post Blight Pairing: Cherche Mahariel x Sten Word count: 2394

---

“Warden, why are you taking me here?”

“Can't tell you. Just keep following.”

Sten rolled his eyes as he kept following behind Cahel. The young elf had grown over the years, but still wasn't very tall compared to most elves. Now he too bore the tattoos on his face that marked him as an adult, but they were blue compared to the jet black his mother wore. He had heard other people joke about how time passing and age crept up on you, but now he was really feeling it as he walked through the hall of Vigil's Keep.

He and Cherche had come for a visit a few days ago. Something about wanting to put the fear of the Creators into some new recruits. His kadan had spent her days chasing them around the courtyard, firing arrows at the slower ones and tripping those who she knew could do better. If it would have been approved, he would have set her on some of the new soldiers back home. They could use the instruction of someone who didn't plan things as thoroughly as Qunari did.

“How much further do we have to go?”

“What, your legs tired from keeping up with me, big guy?” The elf turned around, giving him the same gap-toothed grin he always did. Only now, it was paired with thin blue lines that crossed down his chin towards his neck. It must've hurt. “We're almost there, don't worry.”

There was something about how he was smiling that set Sten's stomach to flopping as they walked through the ancient halls of the stronghold turned Warden fortress. No doubt Cherche had planned something, but he had no idea as to what. She always managed to keep him on his toes that way, and some days it amused him. Others... well, they had an interesting bed life to say the least.

“So, how have you two been, anyway? Mamae leaves a lot out of her emails. Probably thinks I can't handle the gory details of living with a Qunari.”

Sten gave the back of the man's head a rather flat look as they kept walking. “Why? Do you require tips with your king?”

The red flush that colored the tips of Cahel's pointed ears were worth it, as was the tenor-tinged squeak that followed. A fully grown man, and the once-boy Warden still grew embarrassed when talks revolved around his love life. He knew enough from Cherche reading her emails aloud that he too was no longer a virgin, though what kind of nonsense the two got up to in bed was beyond in his interest.

“Just keep walking, Sten.”

That would be a point for him.

After a few minutes of walking, both were standing in front of a door marked by an arrow sticking out of the wood. He had seen that familiar patterning enough to know that the room belonged to Cherche, though she didn't get much use out of it. After all, she spent most of her time in Par Vollen with him, frustrating anything with or without horns in multiple fashions. It was one of her many charms, and the one he found most alluring. He would never admit that, though. She might get a big head.

Cahel knocked on the door. “I got him for you mamae. Good luck!”

He backed away and flashed the Qunari a grin before heading down the hall. Soon he was out of sight and Sten was left alone in the hallway. Cocking an eyebrow, he began to reach for the dusty knob, but it opened before him.

“He sure took his damn time. Come on in, vhenan.”

Cherche stood back to let him into the room. There was nothing out of the ordinary in her appearance as he entered and she closed the door behind him. Maybe she looked a little cleaner, but that might have been due to the fact that they were far from the sands and winds of Par Vollen. Here in Ferelden, the only thing someone really had to worry about was mud and dogs. Oftentimes, they went together in some sort of hellish mix that took nearly a year to get out of his armor the first time he had returned home. Now, he had just sort of given up and accepted it.

She directed him to sit on the bed. There were no ropes there waiting, so it wasn't for their usual arrangement. Sten sill sat as directed, careful to spread out his weight on as much of the area as possible. Whatever she was planning, a broken bed definitely wasn't in the cards.

“Is there a problem, kadan?”

For the first time since they had met, she looked as though she was about to throw up. Briefly, he contemplated the horror of horned children with glowing elf eyes before stowing it away with a shake of his head. Both her own words as a brief check up by a doctor back home had confirmed bearing children was impossible for Cherche. She had been particularly cheery about that, much to the surprise of the gazelle horned medical professional who had asked him later if she was going to be alright. Her guess had been as good as his at that point.

She took a shaky breath as she turned to face him. Her hands were behind her back, as if she was in parade rest. “Well, Sten... we've known each other for a while now.”

“Four years and six months.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” Sweat dripped down her brow. “Anyway... we've been through a lot What with the Blight and me following you to Par Vollen. It's... been a lot of things that we've faced together.”

Sten cocked an eyebrow as he stared down at his flustered lover. “Is there something wrong with our arrangement, Cherche?”

Rarely did he use her name. Though she insisted it was fine, he was never able to get the r's just right. It sounded flat on his tongue, unlike the lyrical flowing that came from other people using it. Even humans sounded better than him, and that was saying something.

She straightened up to her full height, losing a little more color to her already pallid complexion. With the sweat dripping down her brow, Sten had to wonder if she might have been coming down with something. Perhaps her condition was becoming worse. He had heard when it was a Warden's time, they headed off to Orzammar to die. Maybe this was that point, and she was preparing to take that final walk alone. His stomach churned at the thought, even though he had prepared himself for this ages ago.

“No, nothing is wrong! Everything is fine!” Her voice was a half octave higher; it even cracked like poorly made glass. Cherche groaned as she ran a hand through her hair, mussing the neatly tucked back strands of red hair. When it was down, which was rare, it flowed across her shoulders and almost hid some of her famous tattoos.

She slapped her hand to her face when she was done. “There was just... something I needed to ask you, ok?”

Sten's theory about the long walk vaulted ahead by two points. Maybe he was to be part of the group that would carry her to her final rest. He knew enough about Dalish custom that her body needed to be buried under freshly dug earth, with seed planted just above her heart. She had showed him the seed once after a bad fight during the Blight just in case.

“If you're asking me if I remember the seed, I do.” He fought the urge to bite his lip. “Does much time remain?”

He had promised not to cry when the end came. She had made him do so, actually. Something about not wanting people sobbing over her gross corpse when everything was said and done. Reminded her too much of her late father's funeral. He could do that for her, though it would kill him.

Much to his surprise, Cherche shot him the strangest look. “Uh... what are you talking about?”

Sten felt heat creep across his face, though his expression remained blank. Thank the Qun for training. “You wish to discuss end of life options, correct? I remember what seed you wished to be buried over your heart. May I accompany you to Orzammar?”

There were a lot of things he had expected to happen after he spoke. Most likely, she would make a joke to lessen the sting. She might shake her head and let him know that only Wardens could accompany her to her resting place. Hell, she might have even pushed him on the bed for one last round before her body gave out on her. Any of those seemed likely.

What hadn't was the laughter.

Much to his shock, Cherche doubled over laughing. One hand went around her aching stomach while the other grasped at the end of her bed frame like it was her only lifeline left in this world. Her laughter echoed through the small room, reminding him of a bell that had been allowed to go out of tune for some time. It wasn't perfect, but it had a charm to it all its own that he would have missed if it was never heard again.

“Did I say something wrong?”

She held up her hand in the universal sign of pausing the conversation. Tears had to be wiped from her eyes as she stood, an errant chuckle escaping her lips as she finally straightened up. Cherche was smiling, even as she blinked back her tears.

“Creators, I needed that.”

Instead of answering, she began to fiddle with her phone. Usually, she was more than happy to show him whatever she was looking up. This time, she was strangely secretive and held her other hand to make sure he couldn't make anything out. To put it bluntly, it was downright odd.

When she had found whatever she was looking for, Cherche turned to face Sten. “Look, we both know I'm no good with words. Maybe this shem can say it better than I can.”

She placed her phone into the waiting dock and hit play. Bouncy pop music started to play through the attached speakers, accompanied by a drum beat that made the elf tap her foot in time. It was taking a long time for the words to show up, and Sten's heart was racing despite himself. What was so big she couldn't tell him with her own words?

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do...

Hey, baby, I think I wanna marry you.

Cherche gave him a rather nervous grin as she brought her hands from behind her back just as the singer remarked about a little chapel they could go to by themselves. In her hand was a ring, large enough to fit even his finger. The color of the material could only be antlers, though what creature had any to accommodate his size was beyond him.

“Well? Do you wanna?”

It took a lot of things to knock Sten off his feet. The last time it had been done, there was an ogre and he was in full mail. Yet, this tiny woman with big green eyes and an even bigger smile had managed to completely bowl him over with just four words.

“You... wish to marry me?” He opened his mouth, contemplating reminding her that Qunari had no such bond in their culture, but decided not to; she had spent too much time among his people to forget such a crucial fact. This was deliberate on her part.

Cherche paused the music as she came to rest next to him on the bed. The ring went into her pocket for the moment, but he couldn't ignore the lump it made. “Well, yeah. We've been through hell and back together and then some. I've never felt like this about somebody before. Figure I might as well get stuck with you for the rest of my life.”

She paused, and he could almost feel the heat leaking off her face. “I mean, if you don't want to and just wanna keep doing what we're doing, that's fine too. You've told me before about the no marriage thing.”

Sten knew enough about fighting to realize an out when he heard it. She was doing everything she could to ease him out of it if he wasn't sure. It would've been easy to, almost effortless. And yet, that's not where his stomach was leaning him. Somewhere, he was pretty sure his tama would have been very disappointed by the spectacle he was putting on, but right then he didn't care.

“How you discovered my ring size will stun me to this day, kadan.” He truly fought to keep a wry smile off his face with the brief nod of his head. “I suppose this means I need to speak to a halla now?”

There were very few things that managed to render Cherche Mahariel speechless, and most of them involved either food or her children. To catch the accomplished hunter on the wrong foot was a feat in itself. She looked like a fish that had just been pulled from the bay, gaping as it hung by its tail. The only difference was this was a happy occasion and she managed to smell far better.

She blinked back tears as she reached out to slide the ring onto his finger. “I think we can skip that step, vhenan.”

And then her arms were around her and their lips met. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, more to keep her from falling over at this point. A happy feeling bubbled up in his stomach as the silly song continued to play in the background.

Inwardly, he knew he was going to have hell to pay for this later, but Sten frankly didn't care. There were more important things to consider, particularly issues concerning his wife to be. The term along was enough to make his head spin as it was.

Still, for right then he was happy, and that was enough.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #Cherche Mahariel #Sten #Cherche Mahariel x Sten #That Modern Dragon Age AU #reallyfuckinggay #I hope you enjoyed this #I mentioned this idea ages ago

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justbeingbrookee · 8 years ago

Text

I JUST WANT TO DO IT PT.5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Can also read on AO3

Word count: 6,840

Warning: Graphic sexual content.

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5.32 am

What makes a man fall in love? Jimin had pondered this; early in the morning. Why does that person capture your heart when others have failed to? He slowly lowers his gaze to the person laying on his lap. You. How is it possible to care and feel the need to protect someone so strongly? How seeing them smile and laugh warms your heart up so much. How is this possible? How are these kind of feelings real?

You turn in your sleep and Jimin stiffens.

How can someone be so beautiful even in their sleep? He lightly traces his index finger down your forehead, past the bridge of your nose and onto your lips. His fingers hovers there, perplexed by the stunning view. Even though he has felt the tenderness of those lips and has roughed them up with his sensual bites, just looking, feeling and memorising this sight feels like utopia to him. Just then Jimin catches himself. Is….Is this what falling in love feels like? Cherishing the little parts and moments of your significant other, wanting to see and know everything about them. The good and the bad. Just…Everything.

Jimin lowers his head whilst gently brushing your hair with his left hand and presses his mouth ever so softly onto your forehead. “__, I…I think I love you,” he whispers in your ear. You scrunch your nose and turn again. Jimin is frozen in place.

“__, are you awake,” he whispers again. Shit, did you hear me? His eyes bulge out and you snuggle closer to him, still fast asleep.

He lets out a quiet breath of relief.

Relieved Jimin leans back, closes his eyes and calls for sleep to come again.

9.54 am

You stir awake, slowly opening your eyes to find you have a banging headache. Ahh, why did I drink last night, you sigh to yourself. You blink a few more times familiarising yourself with the view. You see a TV, coffee table.

Am I in the living room? You moan at the hardness of your pillow. Is this even a pillow? You question looking up….’Jimin’ you almost yell but luckily catch yourself with your hands.

Flashbacks of last night sip back into your conciseness. Your arms pressed above your head in his tight grip. His lips ravaging your neck, mouth….The heat between your legs yearning to be played with. The fumbling of your keys on the door. Breathing heavily in each other’s embrace.

“Why do I feel like this?” you said as he pushed you on the sofa and pressed his body over you and you could feel it…IT. Growing with each caress, each embrace and each moan through your deep kiss. You had never wanted anyone as much as in that moment. You wanted him to ravage you, to carry you to the bed and devour you senselessly and finally make you a woman. You wanted him to rip your clothes off and fuck you like no one has literally ever done before.

“I should get going,” he had breathed in with his face buried in your hair.

“No, stay the night, just hold me…please,” you had pleaded. Realising that what you really needed more than anything else right now was to feel him near you, to hear his heart beat return to normal and for the last thing you hear and see before your eyes slowly close to be Jimin’s. Just for one night, you didn’t want to sleep alone. Just one night, you had told yourself.

“What are you looking at?” He smiles that beautiful smile of his that reaches his eyes as he opened them and catches you starring.

“Huh, what?” you stumble almost falling off his lap and landing on the floor. “Ahh,” you yell and a pair of strong arms urgently wrap around you and he drags you up into his arms and holds you firmly against his chest.

You look up puzzled at his overreaction.

“I can’t breathe,” you try to push him away. But he wraps his arms around you tighter. “I never knew you were so danger prone, how have you survived so far without me?”

“Danger prone, me?” You manage to say between his tight hold on you.

“Yupp, do I need to remind you of our first meeting?” He laughs finally letting you go.

“That….that was *sigh* it was once and I am not dangerous prone,” you respond crossing your arms and pouting.

But that just makes him laugh even more.

“I also never knew how easy it was to get you riled up,” he leans in and you instantly stop breathing.

He quickly gives you a peck on the lips.

And your heart explodes.

“I have missed those lips,” he says cockily, tilting his head to the side. A loud squeak escapes you and you attempt to move away. But this only results in lighting a fire in his eyes and he leans into you and kisses both your cheeks.

“Stop,” you playfully shout but he doesn’t listen and you lean back into the sofa and he plants kisses all over your face. “It tickles,” you giggle. Enjoying this way too much to fight it anymore.

----------

You let yourself go, you let yourself be free and enjoy the little moments with Jimin and Jungkook. Pushing away the guilt that tries to surface every time you are with each of the boys. You want to choose one or the other but you can’t. You had tried to do the right thing but that only resulted in hurting all three of you so you have now accepted this twisted fate that you are selfishly dating two wonderful guys at the same time.

And the time flies by….

Jungkook keeps to his promise and takes you out to the movies for a do over first date. That little shit Jeon Jungkook decided that it would be appropriate to watch a horror movie which left you burrowed in his arm the whole time because it was so scary. You swear you wanted to kill him whilst you were walking home but his adorable bunny smile kept you at bay.

“You know, you are a little shit right, who goes to see a horror movie on their first date.”

“It wasn’t too bad, at least there was some romance,” Jungkook had countered with a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“What kind of romance is that, HIS TONGUE CAME OUT AND ATE HER WHILST THEY WERE KISSING,” you yell, bewildered.

But this causes him to smirk harder, grab your wrist and pull you into him.

“Like this,” he whispers placing his mouth and tongue into yours. You are momentarily taken aback, responding to his soft lips and playing with his tongue in your mouth but then visions of the film appear at the back of your eyelids and you push him away.

“Nope, you ruined it, Jungkook. I can’t even kiss you anymore,” you say moving away.

“hmm,” he wraps his arms around you and kisses you on the nape of your neck. “Even this,” he whispers seductively. You both discover then that that is a weak spot for you.

You gulp loudly and don’t respond.

He kisses the nape of your neck again but this time more sexually, intensely that your knees buckle and you stop moving.

Fuck!

“Do you want to take my virginity right now, Jungkook?” You manage to say in your hazy horny filled mind.

He steps back instantly and raises his hands. “I will behave, I will behave but you make it so hard.”

“No, you make it so hard for me, Jungkook,” you stare up at him batting your eyelashes.

“No, you make it so hard,” he repeats back to you biting his bottom lip.

You let out a laugh then. “So, are we this kind of couple, so cheesy,” you shake your head laughing.

Jungkook face suddenly gets serious and he puts his hands down and looks straight into your eyes.

“Are we a couple?” He asks solemnly. He was planning on waiting a while, maybe after a few more dates before asking her out but now that the words had come out of her mouth clear as day. As macho as that sounded. He didn’t want to wait any longer. In fact he wanted it to be known to the world that this was his woman that she was taken by him. But most importantly he wanted to make her happy, to see her blush when he held her hand and caressed it with his finger. He wanted to make memories together with her, day by day discovering new things about each other.

“I mean I want to be, but if it’s too early for you it’s fine wit....” he starts rumbling and you cut him off.

“Okay,” you say and place your hand over your face shyly. “Okay,” you repeat and Jungkook slowly, still unsure of the words that just came out of your mouth. Reaches for your face, smiling like a joyful child opening presents on Christmas day.

“Okay,” he mouths before placing his lips onto yours and embracing you until your heart is glee with an unattainable joy.

------------

Days quickly turn into weeks.

The busy tax season finally comes to an end and you start to feel as though you can breathe again. Jungkook had been the best, during most lunch hours except for the few occasions where he was out of the city for business meetings or an issue had occurred at work he had waited outside your building to take you out for lunch. He had such a peculiar taste in food. He liked all types of food, Japanese, Mexican, Italian, Mediterranean and so much more. So you had tried it all and had thoroughly enjoyed yourself. That was one thing you liked about him, he has opened your eyes to so many new experiences that one can never fully appreciate by reading a book or through a TV screen.

The same could be said with Jimin who had taken you out to a variety of places out of city, beautiful sceneries he had used as a basis for his games as an environmental concept artist. Sometimes you felt your eyes were going implode due to the excessive amount of beauty from the scenery and Jimin himself. You are still not over the fact that a person can be as attractive as he is. He has dyed his hair blond now, which doesn’t really help matters at all but just makes it worse. Especially when he runs his hand through his silky blond hair.

“Can you stop that,” you had said flushed one night when Jimin had run his hands through his hair.

He looks up at you and smiles, that innocent smile that reaches his eyes.

“And that too,” you say.

“Why?” He feigns innocence.

“You know why, Jimin,” you smile at his cuteness and take a bite.

“Hm, this is good, you made this yourself?” you ask taking another bite. And let the food melt in your mouth. It tasted so delicious.

“I told you I would cook for you, do you really like it?”

“Yes, it’s delicious, I think this should become a permanent arrangement,” you giggle still in awe of the food. Your cooking skills are not exactly amazing. You think imagining the soggy sandwich still in your bag.

“I like the sound of that,” he says taking a bite.

That was the first time Jimin had surprised you and sporadically asked you to come up to his apartment after work. You were so tired you had bought a soggy sandwich and concluded that that would be your dinner for today.

But then he had opened his door and a beautiful aroma of mouth-watering smells had attacked you.

“Have you had diner?” He had asked with a wide grin on his face and an apron around his waist. You had responded with a no and thus was now in his gorgeous apartment. It was the same size and layout as yours but much different. Much manlier with leather black sofa’s in the living room. Grey and black décor filling the rooms. Sports posters on the walls and electronics spread-out everywhere.

After eating Jimin had collected the plates and had placed them into the dish washer. You had snuggled onto his comfortable sofa whilst watching some TV. Which you both weren’t paying much attention too, very much distracted by each other. You mostly just talked, Jimin asked you so many questions about your life. But surprisingly you loved it. You loved talking about yourself. Telling him about the little things that occurred in your day. You had never had that before, it was always you who listened to other people’s stories about who knows what anymore. But he intently listened as if every word coming out of your mouth would change the world.

I guess these are the perks of relationships you had thought whilst Jimin told you about the new concept artist at his work place. You just snuggled closer to him, enjoying yourself more than what you thought was humanly possible.

---------

Three months had flown by…

Lalalala

“Hello, Oppa,” you answer the phone.

“Don’t, I don’t know you anymore, bye,” Jungkook responds. You start giggling over the phone.

“O-P-P-A why?” You tease him some more.

“I guess you don’t want to go bowling today.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry Op….Jungkook.”

“You better be, be ready in an hour, one hour not three,” he says trying to sound serious.

“I’m always on time, when have I ever been late?” You protest.

“Ha, that’s the biggest joke I have ever had, I’m hanging up, get ready.”

“Bye,” you end the call.

You check the time on your phone and find that it is 5.30pm. You begin to get ready, you put your hair in a ponytail, wear a plain white t-shirt with a little pocket on the chest and some comfortable tight fitting light blue jeans. You match that with the cute pair of black and white Nike air max Thea trainers you just bought that make your feet look extra tiny. You decide not to wear any make-up today. You are going bowling and you hate putting on make-up if you really don’t have too.

Lalalala

You check the phone screen and see ‘Big Sis’.

“Hello, my love,” you answer.

“Oh, someone sounds cheery today, did you finally get some,” she responds.

You start laughing. “Is that all you can think about, I’m hanging up.”

“Your ass better not, I need a distraction while I wait for Yoongi junior to be potty trained.”

“Eww, too much information and I don’t really have that much time, I’m about to go on a date with Jungkook.”

“Is that the really tall one?” She asks.

“Yupp, we are going bowling?”

She starts laughing “Girl, this man could be a millionaire and you are going bowling.”

“Don’t laugh, his really into active stuff which I think is cute, why do you think all these rich people go to Niagara falls or Victoria falls and sit at the edge of it or even jump off dangerous bridges?”

“Hmm, true, Yoongi never takes me out to anywhere exciting anymore, it’s either for drinks or to the same shitty restaurant in this boring old town.”

“But you love it though?”

“Yeah, *sigh* I couldn’t be a city girl like you. Oh, did you shave down there?”

“Again, eww,” you cringe at your sisters personal questions.

“It has been what 3 or 4 months since you have started seeing these guys, every date from now on could lead to you know what?”

“No, no,” you say shaking your head.

“Are you ready?” She asks. You ponder the question for a minute. Are you really ready to lose your virginity? To finally be in on the secret that you feel everyone who has had sex knows. To finally join the sexually active crew.

“HELLS YES,” you shout excited.

“I’m ready, I’m a little bit scared but I want to know what it feels like.”

“Woah, slow down there __, sex is a very intimate thing, you know you will be naked in front of someone right.”

Shit!

“I hadn’t really thought of that?”

“They will see everything and you will see their everything, if you know what I mean.”

You scrunch your face “Are we really related? I have watched porn?” You try to defend yourself.

“It’s not the same, when you see it in front of you for the first time, oh my.”

“Why are you trying to scare me?” You cower in fear.

“I’m not but you know when you make out and you are kind of lost in the moment.”

“Yes!”

“Imagine that but amplified a hundred times that’s what sex will be like with the right person, you will be so lost in each other that everything is such a rush until you climax and then you start to see clearly again.”

“Wow that sounds hot.”

“Exactly, that’s why you better go back into that shower remove all hair from your neck downwards, wear matching bra and panties because you never know when it’s going happen since you are ready and they have probably been ready since they first met you.”

“Hm, you are right, okay, let me go and shower again.”

You do as your sister had advised and you hop back into the shower and then find a matching lilac lace bra and panties that you hadn’t worn before. You had liked how it looked so you had bought two pairs in different colours but hadn’t gotten around to wearing them yet. You sure waste a lot of money, you think to yourself.

Your phone vibrates.

18.14

Are you ready? [From Jungkook]

That feels like a double edged sword kind of question.

18.14

Almost, five more minutes? [You reply]

Five minutes turns into an extra 40 minutes for you to lotion, put your clothes back on, do your hair and leave the apartment.

-----

Jungkook is fidgeting in the car, turning up the car heating. No, it’s too hot. Lowering it back down. Tuning the radio from hip hop channels to classical music and then flipping to the main station unsure what will set the mood best. He doesn’t know why his feeling so nervous today.

He changes his station one more time and then he looks up.

Stunned by the view. His palms start to moisten as he watches you intently reach in your bag and turn the key to lock the building door. Hair up in a tight ponytail that flips as you turn around and you smile that smile that always makes him shy. He tries to hide it, in fact he is quite good at hiding how anxious you makes him. He stares at you again, happily walking towards him with a skip in your step. Boobs bouncing inside your white shirt, he notices and takes a deep breath. He can’t get too excited.

“Jungkookie, I’m sorry I’m late,” she speaks entering the car.

“Why am I even surprised anymore,” he composes himself.

“It won’t happen again, I promise,” you say and then kiss him on the cheek. He blushes immediately, heat rising where your lips had just touched. Jungkook gulps and tries his very best to cover up the fact that every touch, giggle, smile that you do sends him into a temporary turmoil.

You arrive at the bowling alley at 7.30pm but you find that the parking lot is deserted. Jungkook gets out of the car to check what is happening and then returns with the corners of his mouth facing downwards.

“Their closed for today, apparently a lot of the big bowling franchise unions have gone on strike,” he says climbing back into the car.

“Oh, erm, we can always come back another time, I guess,” you speak a bit disappointed as you were really looking forward to bowling with Jungkook today. You hadn’t done it in such a long time but bowling with your family when you were younger had always been one those cherished memories that you held deep in your heart. It would have been fun to create those fun memories with him today.

“Wait, let me check the nearest bowling place from here?” He mouths, looking at his phone. He looks so determent, unable to accept defeat. Why does his stern face look so hot right now, you bite your bottom lip and proceed to moving your body next to his and laying your head on his shoulder.

“What about this one?” He points.

“Closed, see,” you say rubbing your nose onto his neck and catching a whiff of a beautiful fragrance that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“How about this, it’s a bit far though,” he notes.

“How long do you think it will take, with those miles?” You say looking back at his phone.

“40 or maybe 50 minutes, depending on the traffic?”

“Let’s do it? I want to bowl,” you giggle getting back to your seat and fastening the seat belt.

Jungkook just looks at you and smiles. “Okay, let’s do it.”

He reverses, sets the sat-nav and the car is off weaving past the nightlights of the city. The sat-nav woman tells you, you are almost there and that 20 minutes are left until you arrive at your destination. You play games with each other, laugh at his silly jokes as the car passes the street lights.

But then you are caught in a traffic jam, the car comes to a halt and what you thought was the remaining twenty minutes of your journey turns into an hour. You lean your head onto the window. Annoyed and exhausted at the situation you are in.

“I can’t believe this, we are so close, this stupid road is killing me,” you say.

You move two inches and then stop.

“There must be some road works or something,” Jungkook answers calmly.

You spot a bunch of school girls walking across the road.

“Do you think your parents would have allowed you out this late on a school night?” You ask, still watching them walk past laughing and joking with each other.

“Hm, I don’t know I was always a good child plus my mum would have just shouted ‘watch, I will tell your Dad when he gets here,’ which stopped being scary after the age of ten.” He speaks staring ahead.

“Your father wasn’t around much?” You press, wondering if that the right thing to do.

“He was a truck driver so he was away most times working so we could eat, go to school and just have a normal childhood but…but how can you have a normal childhood when your father isn’t around, when there’s no one to teach you how to catch a ball.” He starts to choke up.

“I’m sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean to…” your sentence trails off and you reach for his hand with both of yours.

“Ha, I remember throwing tantrums, once I even went on a hunger strike, sadly it only lasted two hours because I was 12 but I wanted to have a normal family, to have both my parents sitting at the dining table. Sadly, at a young age I realised the power of money, I realised that without it, money could break families apart so I said when I grow up I wouldn’t let money rule me.”

“Says the guy dating an accountant,” you try to make him laugh.

“I like your determination too, I feel as though you wanted the same thing as me, you didn’t want to be in the choke hold of money,” He turns to look at you, waiting for an answer, reassurance maybe?

You just nod because you know his right, living in a small town, having your parents both working dead end jobs made you determined to not want to be like them. You were never driven by money, you don’t like designer stuff or the latest anything but you just wanted to able to buy a new pair of jeans without going into overdraft.

The car in front moves and Jungkook turns away from you.

But something he said is still bothering you so you say “What’s a normal family anyways, even if you have one parent, two parents and grand-parents raising you it doesn’t matter just as long as you have someone who loves you unconditionally. And that’s why your dad went to work on those long and boring journey’s because he loved his children more than anything in the world.”

“Come here,” Jungkook extends his arm out so you can snuggle yourself in there. Which you do willingly. Before he wraps his arm around you and kisses you on the forehead.

“What did I do to deserve you, huh?”

“I am still trying to figure that one out myself,” you reply and you feel him smile in the darkness of the car.

You spend a further 15 minutes slowly moving on that single lane road until you finally reach the exit and the car accelerates fast towards your destination.

At around 9pm you finally reach the bowling place. You find that it is located in a very small town practically in the middle of nowhere with hardly any cars going past or that many buildings in sight. This really must be the countryside.

You first find a small little family restaurant where you eat and have a good hearty meal. As you exit the restaurant you find that it has started to rain a little bit. But you ignore it and enter the bowling place and put on your bowling shoes.

“You’re going down,” you shout over the noise a little too excited.

He puts his thumbs down at you and you giggle.

Unfortunately, you end up losing to him, he didn’t even pretend to let you win, he gets very competitive when it comes to games. But you had so much fun and you made good memories today. It was worth the long journey to get here you think as you remove your bowling shoes and place your trainers back on.

“Are you from out of town?” The woman serving you asks. You nod your head and she gives you a weary look.

“I could tell by your fancy clothes, have you heard the news yet, our little town is on lockdown, their saying that there is a high risk of a natural disaster and are blocking cars from leaving.”

You gasp and Jungkook suddenly looks up at both of you.

“Wait, what,” he says getting out his phone and checking for confirmations. He slumps down after a minute of scrolling. “It’s true, we are trapped here until tomorrow.”

“See, did you come to visit some relatives?”

“No,” you respond deflated. Maybe that explains the traffic getting here.

“Well, we do have a golfing tournament in a few days so I’m not sure if you can get a room at the big hotels this late, you should try the love boat hotel, it’s always empty during sports tournaments, can you imagine those team members sharing a room in a place like that,” she laughs at her own joke. She is kind though, she gives you the address of the hotel.

Love boat hotel, Jungkook thinks to himself, this has got to be a joke. How in the world is he meant to spend a night with __ in the same hotel, one called ‘love boat hotel,’ for that matter and survive. It was hard enough in the car or in public places but in a room…together…alone…wait, wait, they should just get two separate rooms…that makes sense. He calms himself down.

“Sorry, but we only have one room left, the honeymoon suite, should I book you in?” The receptionist asks. Of course you only have one room left, Jungkook contemplates sleeping in the car for one second but then he looks over at you and sees you playing with your fingers nervously.

“I will sleep on the floor okay,” he says trying to comfort your nerves and covering your hand with his.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK….. you internalise as you stand in silence in the elevator hand in hand with Jungkook. You can feel the tension. Even the security guard looking through the camera can feel the tension. FUCK!

He looks down at you and you bite your bottom lip. You know what’s going to happen next, his eyes give him away but it still takes you by surprise when he pounces on you. His mouth slamming onto yours and taking your breath away. You want to fight this urge but you can’t your body is craving this man, his hands, mouth, scent. It wants it all. He wraps his firm arms around you and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and ruffle his hair in your hands as you kiss him back deeper, harder, hornier.

The elevator door opens and you somehow manage to stagger in fits of naughty giggles all the way to the door.

He fumbles with the card outside your room before the light turns green and you enter. The dimmed luminant lights comes on and you are both gobsmacked at the décor of the room. The large king sized bed covered in white duvets and red rose petals is the first thing that catches your eyes. Then the Champaign bottle placed on top of the table with two glasses on each side is the next thing you spot. You both enter still in his arms.

He lays you down onto the bed and you bring him in for another kiss. Afraid that if you let him go he will see the nervousness on your face.

“I want you,” you whisper attempting to lift his shirt from his back.

“I want you Jungkook,” you mouth between his soft lips making movements against yours. You have never told the truth of your heart more than now. You wanted Jungkook, you wanted him to take your virginity, now and in this moment. You couldn’t possibly wait any longer.

He leans back away from the kiss and pulls his shirt off. You almost choke on air. He stares at you with piercing eyes as if he wants to devour you right there and then. His body is perfect. Not that you didn’t know this already but it really is perfect. From his highly defined pecks to his chiselled 8 pack. You have never seen an 8 pack in real life before. Shit, you have never even seen a six pack before.

“Are you sure?” He breathes. Leaning into you and kissing you gently on the lips, reassuring, questioning his lips travel south to your neck, his tongue grazing your collarbone. You shiver. And roam your hands onto the flesh of his warm naked back.

His cold hands go under your shirt and you elongate your neck and arch your back. His touch, feeling his touch on your bare skin, up to your cleavage. Cupping your lace bra. Your body quivers. He lightly lifts you up and removes your shirt over your head. You all of a sudden feel vulnerable. As if you are baring your soul to him. You look up and witness something special, delicate in Jungkook’s eyes. As if his about to cry at the sight of your bare body. You unclip your bra at the back just to push him over the edge.

You stare back at him now half naked in nothing but a pair of jeans. “You look so fucking good,” he breathes. “Fuck me, you look so good,” he carries on licking his lips before shifting his gaze from your left breast to the right. Your breathing shallows.

You indicate for him to cum over with your index finger before licking it seductively. When the fuck did you get so brave.

He listens, dipping his head down onto your navel and licking his way up. His wet tongue feels warm on your body. The heat between your legs starts to tingle. He slowly moves up your body. His right hand finds your breast first. He kneads it in-between his fingers. “hmmhn,” you moan. That makes him play with them more, finally landing his mouth over your hardened nipple. Your sex is about to explode when his tongue makes sensual circles around your hardened nipple. Your mouth wide open you gasp for air as the pleasure overcomes you. “Why does this feel so fucking good Jungkook,” you whisper through the pleasure coming from his mouth. He switches his mouth to the other breast and you almost lose it.

Then he stops. It takes you a while to realise that he has stopped but when you do, you look down and find him smirking. Too excited in the pain and pleasure he is causing you.

“Why….” You are about to ask but he grabs your hips and pulls you further down the bed.

“This is my present,” he mouths grabbing your legs and lifting them into the air wide apart. You are lost for words and he places a hand onto your sex and starts to rub there gently at first. Over the jeans.

“I want to open you up slowly,” he mouths again releasing your legs and placing his mouth onto your sex over your jeans. You’re dumbfounded that his doing this through the jeans but it turns you on. It makes you wet. Wet for him. And he sucks on the fabric of your jeans.

He undoes your button and pulls down your zip with an urgency. Then he rolls down your jeans slowly placing kisses down your thigh. You help to remove the jeans and then you realise you are only wearing a pair of knickers. One more layer and you will be stack naked in front of him.

He rubs his knuckles onto your sex and you lean back and arch your back. Your eyes roll back when he moves your panties to the side as his fingers finally make contact with the flesh of your pussy. “Ahmm,” a quiet moan escapes. And his fingers rub against you. He rubs your clit and you forget how to breathe. It’s so sensitive, delicate and his playing with it with such content.

Lick!

You explode inside. He licks you again on your sensitive area. “Jung….” You try to cry out but fail as he starts sucking in your juices. “You’re so fucking wet, I love it.” He slurps around your pussy before roaming his index finger over your entrance.

He slowly places it in and all your sensations go into overdrive. He has entered you. Another finger apart from yours has entered you. You let out another quiet moan and he places a second finger in slowly, testing, entering and exiting your entrance. “Ah, fuck, ___ this sight is so fucking beautiful, watching you moan, shit.” He grabs the front of his pants.

“I want to see it,” You notice, still being filled up by his two fingers. He slowly removes them and gets off the bed before dropping both his trousers and boxers down.

Your mouth drops.

So that’s what it looks like, why is it so big and pink. And bulging. You try to look away but fail. It calls for your attention. He steps closer to you and you unintentionally move away.

He pouts and places his hand over his thick dick. Caressing it. “Look how hard you made me, this is what you always do to me,” he stands there rubbing his own penis confidently.

He looks so fucking hot right now, majestic even. You want to touch it too, you think. Imagining how he would feel inside of you.

You move closer to the edge of the bed, close to him, It. He smiles at you. And you drop your gaze and touch it. It feels smooth and soft, you move your hand up and down as he had done. He looks up and rolls his eyes back. You smile at that. Surprised that you enjoy making him happy. Pleasing him gives you greater pleasure. You move closer grabbing him with both hands and moving up and down his manhood. “Fuck, yes, just like that,” he moans. Holding him tight in between your hands, throbbing, leaking you carry on until the fascination overcomes you. You want to taste him. Even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you want to taste him in your mouth. To finally know how he tastes like.

You kneel down on the floor and look up at him, he faces you now. His gaze locked onto yours. You place your tongue onto his head still staring at him. You lick him again this time for longer, making circles around him before wrapping your entire mouth around him.

He closes his eyes and you lose his gaze. His hazel eyes disappear into the back of his eye lids. You suck him, tasting him, finally tasting him. You move your mouth deeper on his cock. “Ah, baby it…” you go even deeper, gagging for the first time when he scrapes the back of your throat.

He moans louder and you fight your reflexes and go deeper. Feeling him further inside you. “Stop, please,” he moans holding your shoulders in place and moving them back. You pout. You were beginning to get the hang of it.

He lifts you up with ease back onto the bed and quickly rubs your sex with his three fingers. “That made you wet, didn’t it?” He smirks leaning in to kiss you and rubbing both your breasts with his thumbs. New pleasurable sensations escape you.

And he moves his lips away leaning over the bed dresser and grabbing a thin foil wrapper. “I guess it’s a good thing we got a honeymoon suite,” you force a giggle getting nervous now as you watch him place the rubber onto his manhood. It slides on with ease and your heart beat accelerates. It’s about to happen, you go into overdrive.

“Are you sure?” He asks again when his ready and you nod leaning back on your back legs spread ready to feel all of Jungkook inside of you. He kisses your forehead and then slowly rubs his penis onto your sex.

You take a deep breath and he slowly and gently enters you, your body expands to meet his size. It starts to hurt, not painful but you feel the stretch. He carries on gently moving into you before placing himself over you balanced by his muscular arms.

He moves out with the same speed and you feel the pain again and he enters you, repeating himself whilst simultaneously increasing the speed. You hold your breath each time he enters you. And then hurriedly bring him in for a kiss when he pumps into you fast. Your body feels as though it’s about to explode.

He pumps into you again.

You pulls him into a hug, wrapping your arms his body for balance as he enters you fast, urgently. “You feel so good,” he moans. “Fuck, fuck, so tight,” he moans again picking up momentum as you take the pain. Feeling him inside of you. You hold onto him tighter, eyes shut as you feel him enter and leave you. “Ahh, I’m about…fuck!” And he quickly pulls out of you and you see him explode inside the clear wrapper.

You relax your head on the bed and he collapses next to you after disposing of the used wrapper. “You were so fucking amazing,” he breathes in the darkness. You can still feel the pain in between your legs. “So were you,” you lie.

“Let me freshen up,” you manage to say heading to the bathroom. You sit on the toilet and see spots of blood. Your hymen was broken during sex. You are still dazed at what just occurred. You can’t believe that you have finally lost your virginity. But you didn’t orgasm like he did you think to yourself. Maybe it was the nerves of it all, the fact that it was your first time having sex and the feeling of the pain. Next time, you will probably reach your climax because you will be familiar with the situation.

You finish cleaning yourself up and return to the bed. Jungkook heads to the bathroom and then returns. When he returns he covers you with his arms and you spoon. You relax in his arms feeling the comfort and security that they bring. You are glad you finally lost your virginity to this man.

He falls asleep first, his arms still tight around you but you can’t sleep, you can’t stop imagining the things that transpired a while ago, the things you did, the things he did. The way he made you feel, so vulnerable, wanted, desired all at once.

And you wanted more, so much more.

-------

End Comments - You have finally lost your virginity, lol. Somehow it feels like Pandora's box has just been opened and now the games shall truly begin. Again, thank you for reading this far. I am so grateful :) [NEXT CHAPTER]

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