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smartkookiee · 2 months ago

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Wounds We Never Show // Ch.1 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭ ❥pairing: Jungkook x reader

❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits, these two really do hate each other

❥chapter warnings: Fighting (verbal), swearing, drinking, Jungkook just being a little shit, small angst (squint)

❥word-count: 13.1k

❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list, .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

“Hi, checking in.” You set your bag down next to you on the ground. The front desk person took your info and handed you a key to your room. You admittedly arrive later in the day than you had intended, as it was already evening.

You noticed the sign had been placed at the entrance ‘Welcome friends and family for the Kim and Abel wedding.’

You had finally made it to this weekend. Namjoon and Melanie were getting married.

You as the maid of honor had spent many months planning out every step of this wedding with Melanie. The hotel she always dreamed of, the food she insisted on having, the music down to the minute. Every detail was planned from top to bottom.

You finally could get some sleep after today.

You headed up the elevator to the floor Melanie said they were staying in. Her and Namjoon had elected to stay in separate rooms for the weekend. She took the honeymoon suite and Namjoon is in another room on another floor. A quick ride up the elevator basically led right to the room.

The door was creaked open so you pushed the door open to let yourself in.

“Hello?” You dragged the word looking into the room, You immediately spotted Melanie and Ash. Sitting on the couch immediately inside the door.

“You made it my love!” Melanie jumped to her feet. A little bit of champagne spilling from the glass she had in her hand.

You set your bag on the ground and rounded your way around the couch to hug her.

“Your knight in shining armor has arrived.” You do a dramatic bow.

“What am I then?” Ash laughs a little at your gesture.

“The jester obviously.” She gets up and you hug her as well.

You had immediately noticed that they were both in matching pajamas and you could only assume that a pair was waiting for you in this room somewhere as well. Melanies had bride on the back of the top, you could only assume Ash’s had bridesmaid on the back. Which meant-

“You need your pajamas!” Melanie ran into the other room where the bed was and emerged immediately with a pair of the same silk blue pajamas. Yup, yours had maid of honor written on the back of the top.

Ash put a glass of champagne in your hand.

“I love them.” A little cheesy but you were happy to make her happy.

“Yay!” Melanie bounced, she was rather red in the face, so you could only imagine she has had a bit to drink.

You began to shed your clothes from your work day. Ash and Melanie cheered at your mini non sexual strip show.

“Stop.” You laugh at them. Throwing the pajama top on.

“I didn’t want strippers for my bachelorette party.” Melanie teased.

“Should have paid for a better one.” Ash giggled.

You kick her ankle, and she winces but was still laughing.

“200 bucks and I’ll give you a real show.” You fully dress yourself now.

“Oh, sounds like a really good deal.” Melanie laughed and winked at you. You rolled your eyes, you do a little spin to show off the pajamas.

“They looked great!”

You sit yourself down on the couch with both of them and take a sip of your champagne. Finally letting the weight of the day come over you, Ash rested her head on your shoulder.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask, looking to Melanie.

“I just wanted an easy night in with you guys. Nothing crazy because the next three days are going to be extremely busy.”

She was correct. Although the day tomorrow would be easy, you were having the official Bachelorette party. Melanie had never done a bar crawl before so you and Ash set that up for you guys. Then Saturday was going to be mostly spending time with the guests and family outside of the wedding and the rehearsal dinner.

You would barely have time to yourselves really. Let alone Namjoon and Melanie will be in entertainment mode the entire time.

Basically, the lay of the land tonight was, have fun but not too much.

“Good, I’m exhausted from the travel.” You dramatically huff out.

“Didn’t it take you like half an hour to get here from the hospital?” Melanie raised an eyebrow at you.

“Exactly, I’m exhausted.” Throwing an arm over your eyes. Although you were surprised you still had energy after your shift today.

A knock on the hotel room interrupts you guys. Melanie was about to get up to answer it but you shot up in protest against her.

“Uh the bride does not answer the door to anyone. Allow me my lady.” You push her back down, and give a little bow.

“Stop.” She whines but also laughs.

You trot on over to the door, and an amusing smile on your face. You swiftly open the door, only to be met with the groom himself.

“Who is it?” Ash calls to you.

“It’s the actual stripper!” You open the door wider so Namjoon could enter the room. He gave you half hug when entering the room.

“Oh I can get down with this strip show.” Melanie props her legs up on the couch, taking a sip of her champagne.

“I’ll get the bills.” Ash runs to the next room to get her bag, causing a little laughter amongst you and Melanie. Namjoon was blushing and red from ear to ear.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m only here to say goodbye for the night.” Namjoon rounds his way over to Melanie and gives her a short kiss but then Melanie begs for another one so he complies.

“Hey, I think that’s extra.” Ash comes back in the room, she has her wallet instead. She pulls out a couple one dollar bills. “Here Namjoon for your time.”

You and Melanie are giggling again as Namjoon shoves the money back to Ash. He was just smiling but you could tell he knew he needed to get out of here fast.

“Any big plans tonight, Namjoon?” You ask and find your way back on the couch next to Melanie. Ash follows just next to you.

“Not sure yet. Jungkook planned the evening so I’m at his mercy.” Namjoon didn’t seem to bother but just the mention of Jungkook left a terrible taste in your mouth.

“Ugh, good luck with him.” You take a sip of your champagne, Melanie does bump your leg with her knee, signaling to be nice.

“You promised.” She gave you a pointed look.

“Technically I only promised I would be nice to him. Never said I wouldn’t be mean behind his back.” You try your very best, but he just always manages to just push your buttons.

“Well I’m making it a rule starting now.” Melanie pats your shoulder.

“Okay, I will be nice the whole time. Namjoon I hope tonight is very fun.” Your raise your glass to him.

“Thank you.” He bows to you slightly. “I should get going before he comes looking for me.”

Namjoon and Melanie kiss one more time and Namjoon excuses himself.

“Bye, Namjoon,” you and Ash sang in unison, waving dramatically as he quickly exited.

You both giggled.

Eventually the three of you moved into the room with the king size bed and all settled in. Drink champagne and turned on some random rom com that was available through the hotel.

Settling into this very long weekend.

At some point the three of you dozed off. You woke up to the room dark, but you felt like your mouth was completely dried out. Very carefully you tried to worm your way out of the middle of the bed. You grabbed the ice bucket because there was no way you were going to drink room temperature water.

The ice machine wasn’t too far, scooping out some ice and heading back to the room, you were stopped once up the hall you heard the elevator ding. Watching two people stumble out of the elevator into the hall. The second person catching the first.

“I just want to see her, it’ll be so quick,” Namjoon slurred, barely able to stand on his own.

“Dude you will have the rest of life to see her, let’s get you back to the room.” The second guy, who you can clearly see now is Taehyung. Also slurring his words. Holding onto Namjoon like his life depended upon it.

“Guys.” You made your way over. Both of them immediately take notice of you. They both stood up straight, trying to act sober. “Go back to your rooms. We have such a long weekend ahead of us.”

“You’re right,” Namjoon sighed, but then he perked up. “Not after I do this!” He suddenly made a dash for Melanie’s door, but before you could react, someone else stepped in, pulling Namjoon back.

“Okay, that’s enough for you Casanova.” Jungkook spoke, patting Namjoon on the back.

Your entire body physically repulsed away at the site of him. Your face immediately falling into a displeased look at him. Jungkook noticed, and scoffed under his breath. Thinking, what could I have possibly done now?

“Aw what’s with the grumpy face? ” Taehyung comes to you and tries to poke your cheeks to make you smile, it makes you laugh. You grab both of his hands before he gets a chance.

“Nothing, you need to get some sleep my dear Tae, you too Namjoon.” You pat Taehyung on the cheek.

Before you can react he gives you a hug before he then breaks away and grabs Namjoon and pulls him over to the elevator pressing the button a thousand times. Jungkook stays where he was, looking at the two of them. He didn;t have any intention to get Namjoon Drunk tonight, but one too many at the hotel bar got too him. He should have been making sure he had food as much as he had drank. He paused his mental scolding to look at you.

“Yes?” You say dryly to him. Waiting for whatever retort he’s to give you.

Jungkook lingered, his eyes sweeping over you as if sizing you up. “Nice pajamas,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He very well knew these were Melanie’s pick and he really had no issue with them. He had an issue with one particular person in them.

“Thanks? Anything else?” You couldn’t be less amused.

You walk to the door which he was standing somewhat close too. Just close enough for you to catch a cigar smell, not his usual stink of cigarettes you were used too.

“God you reek.” You couldn’t help but get one punch in before the weekend started officially started. After this, according to Melanie's request several months ago, rainbows and kindness.

Jungkook had gotten a similar lecture form her as well. Bring the whole unicorn or something like that. He also wanted to get one last punch in before this all started.

“Hmm tell that to your perfume, Eau de Desperate. Seems like you wear it by the gallon these days.”

“Desperate, huh? At least I smell nice, unlike you, who’s one cigarette away from the grave.” You unlock the hotel door. You stop before you step all the way in. Melanie’s words bounced around in your head, “Listen, I’m willing to be nice this weekend if you can. Melanie made me promise, so that will be my last dig of the weekend. Deal?”

You were being genuine but it did kill you inside to have to offer something like this.

“I can’t make you any promises, since I’m aware how unreliable you are.” Jungkook pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, putting one between his teeth. “Deal. That was my last one.”

You took in a long breath. Hit right in the nerve he was aiming for.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.” You closed the door on him.

Letting the door slam in Jungkook’s face, you didn’t see the subtle twitch of his jaw as he sauntered back to the elevator, trying to shake off the lingering irritation. His encounter with you had already grated on him more than he wanted to admit. You always had a way of getting under his skin. This was pretty light compared to previous spats.

As the elevator doors slid open, he found Taehyung struggling to keep Namjoon upright, the two of them stumbling in. Jungkook sighed, stepping in after them, hitting the button for their floor.

"Hey!" Namjoon suddenly yelled, his voice echoing in the small space as he pointed a wobbly finger at Jungkook. "Don’t bug Y/N this weekend."

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at Namjoon’s sudden outburst. "I won’t," he replied, though the agreement felt more like a reluctant surrender than a promise.

“I’m serious! They worked really hard on this wedding, so you be nice.” Namjoon’s words were slurred, his head lolling as he leaned heavily against Jungkook, who had to push him back gently to keep him from collapsing entirely.

"I’ll try my very best," Jungkook muttered, more to himself than to Namjoon, as the elevator doors opened. He really was going to do his best, this was a really important weekend for him too even though he hasn't been around to help. He tightened his grip on Namjoon’s arm, pulling him out of the elevator and into the hallway.

Taehyung dragged his feet behind them, fumbling for his room key with clumsy fingers. "What is the deal with you two, anyway?" he asked, his voice curious but also tinged with the laziness of someone who’s had a bit too much to drink.

Jungkook’s expression dropped, and a bitter taste filled his mouth at the thought of everything that had happened between him and you. "Long story. Maybe another time," he said curtly, not wanting to delve into the messy history between you both. Taehyung knew the important stuff already. No one knew all the details.

Jungkook snatched the room key from Taehyung's hand, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. He opened the door to their hotel room and flicked on the lights. The harsh brightness made him wince slightly as he helped Namjoon over to one of the beds. Namjoon collapsed face-first onto the mattress, immediately out cold.

"Do not let him leave," Jungkook ordered, pointing sternly at Taehyung, who was in the process of kicking off his shoes.

"I won’t!" Taehyung responded, holding up his hands in surrender, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

Jungkook lingered for a moment, watching as Taehyung struggled to pull the covers over Jungkook glanced at Namjoon, who was snoring into the pillow, the room heavy with the scent of alcohol and the weight of unspoken words. He knew he should stay, sober Namjoon up, joke around like they used to, but he was too worn out. Work had been relentless, his personal life a mess, and every time he tried to help with the wedding, something pulled him away.

Jungkook made his way to his own room, guilt twisting in his gut. Namjoon had always been like a brother, always there, and Jungkook hated feeling like he’d failed him. Which meant that knowing every detail of this weekend was so important to him. And now, as if things weren’t complicated enough, there was you—always clashing with him.

He sank onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shut out the noise in his head. This weekend was going to test him in ways he wasn’t prepared for. He checked his phone one last time, then tossed it aside, determined not to let his thoughts run wild tonight.

But the next morning, the tension was thick, and the silence between you was impossible to ignore.

"Okay, everyone should be seated! Namjoon’s at the front. First bridesmaid and groomsman, you’re up!" the wedding coordinator called out, her voice echoing in the mostly empty hall. Melanie’s sister and one of Namjoon’s friends? Brother? You weren sure, exchanged a quick glance before stepping forward. They’d only arrived today, missing the previous festivities, so they were clearly trying to get their bearings as they moved down the aisle.

“Next pair, let’s go!” The coordinator’s shortcut through the mild chatter.

Ash looped her arm through Taehyung’s, her confidence obvious even in a casual practice. You were jealous of her walking partner. She wore a small, mischievous grin as she sauntered down the aisle, adding a bit of flair that drew a few chuckles from the small group.

You barely registered it, though, because you were preoccupied with the awkward tension between you and Jungkook. Your arm rested on his like a dead weight. The idea of touching him—even for a rehearsal—made you want to squirm. The distance you both kept was almost ridiculous, but neither of you was willing to close the gap.

A hand landed firmly on both your shoulders from behind, shoving you together. Bumping your shoulders together harshly. You stumbled forward in sync, groaning under your breath like rebellious teenagers.

“You two look ridiculous standing that far apart!” Melanie hissed, shooting you both a glare. “It’s just practice, guys. You can fake it for five minutes, right?”

Before either of you could snap back, the coordinator’s voice rang out. "Maid of Honor and Best Man—go!"

You both moved forward, managing to match each other’s pace despite the obvious discomfort. The silence between you had held all morning, which at least made things less unbearable—but having him this close was testing your patience. His mere presence gnawed at your mood, a constant irritant you couldn’t escape.

As you reached the end of the aisle, you split directions, the tension in your shoulders finally easing. You shuddered in revulsion, rubbing your arm as if you could erase the feeling of his proximity. Jungkook caught the gesture and rolled his eyes, not even trying to hide his irritation.

"Alright," the coordinator said once everyone was back in place. "After this, the music changes, everyone stands, and then Melanie will walk down the aisle." Melanie does a quick run-through, smiling as she walked toward Namjoon at the front, playfully grabbing his arm when she reached him.

“Perfect. I just needed everyone to do this once before Sunday. Does everyone get it?” The coordinator scanned the group, getting nods in response. It was simple enough.

She moved on to speak to Melanie and Namjoon, while you stepped forward to join the rest of the wedding party in a small circle.

Namjoon and Melanie had the whole weekend scheduled down to a T. It was Jungkook’s and your job to mostly help get them from point A to point B. Today was just the parties but tomorrow they had a family breakfast, extended family pictures, lunch with the parents, some other activities and then the rehearsal dinner. With how busy tomorrow was going to be, the easier you were going to make today.

“See easy peasy.” Ash bumped your shoulder, knowing your disgust for Jungkook.

“I feel like I need a shower.” You shiver, folding your arms over your chest.

“Well now we just get to have an easy day, and party hard tonight.” She placed both of her hands on your shoulders and rocked your forwards and backwards in excitement, you smiled.

Which reminded you that you did have to talk to Jungkook about making sure he got Namjoon up and going in the morning. Namjoon and Melanie had both agreed they could get super drunk at their respective parties but that someone had to make sure they made it to breakfast in the morning. The breakfast started at 9.

Jungkook was across the room preoccupied with Taehyung telling him something about the last wedding he had gone too. Jungkook had a similar feeling, your perfume lingered and he felt like he needed to get clean because it was giving him a headache. Your presence doing just the same, almost like you had heard his thoughts. He felt a pat on his shoulder.

Turning to see you, “Yes?”

“I need to talk to you about tomorrow morning. Now the breakfast starts at 9 so we need to make sure that these two get to bed as soon as we get home. I can come down and help get Namjoon up in th morning if you need.” You were rambling really quickly and Jungkook felt like he could barely keep up.

“You worry about your guy and I’ll worry about mine.” Jungkook nodded, wanting to get an excuse to get you to go away.

“I’m just suggesting it, Jungkook. Offering help is not a crime.” You steady your breathing, fighting the urge to punch him.

“I’ll get him there in plenty of time, promise.” Jungkook not wanting to cause a scene leaves you just with that, he figures keeping his responses short will keep either of you from getting too riled up.

Although a part of his mind wanted to make some retort about you actually arriving on time in the morning. He kept it to himself.

“Great. I’m trying to get Melanie there by 8:45. So you don’t have to worry about being too early.”

“Sounds fine.”

You didn’t say anything and you just walked away. He could tell you were annoyed by his lack of enthusiasm and to be fair he didn’t care to grace you with better responses.

“Wow I think that was the most normal conversation I have ever seen between the two of you.” Taehyung nodded, patted Jungkook on the back.

“I would have rather stepped on a nail but, this weekend is about Namjoon. I want everything to go well.” Jungkook huffed, looking at Namjoon and Melanie who were having a quiet conversation just the two of them. You took a moment before you ended up joining them.

Taehyung's face was twisted in confusion. Your feud had always confused him, since he loved Jungkook and loved you. Made no sense to him why you two shouldn’t get along and yet here we were.

“So tonight…” Jungkook started

They discussed the plans for tonight. They had a similar plan to do a bar crawl, unbeknownst to you having made a similar plan. After the little practice everyone split off. Spending the hours in whatever ways every person needed too.

After a while everyone started getting ready for the evening. Melanie really loved the idea of wearing cheesy bridal party outfits, so she had a classic little white dress and a crown that said bride across it. The rest of you had matching short black dresses, you got a sash saying made of honor and Ash and Serena had ones that said bridesmaids. It was cute, and would make for good memories later. You had taken a few polaroids in the room once everyone got ready.

It felt like the night had arrived so quickly because before you had known it your crawl had begun. The first bar was just a little irish bar that ended up being super lame, the second bar you thought was a theme bar but ended up just being a sports bar so you guys ran out of there quick. The third stop on your location was more club than bar, but you all had a few drinks now.

You were ready for some dancing.

“Oh dude they host an emo night!” Ash points at a little flier they had posted in the hallway into the club.

“Oh we are so going to that.” You cheer, catching a glimpse of the flier to make note of the date.

The club pulsed with blinding lights and a bassline that shook the floor beneath your feet. Bodies crowded every inch of the space, and the noise was almost overwhelming. Melanie led the charge, her excitement spilling over as she flashed her “Bride” crown to anyone who glanced her way. You, Ash, and Serena followed closely behind, weaving through the throng of people with linked hands to avoid getting separated.

Ash tugged you toward the bar, quickly ordering a round of drinks. “To Melanie!” she laughed, raising her glass.

“To Melanie!” you all echoed, clinking glasses before downing the drinks in unison. The alcohol burned pleasantly, warming you from the inside out and washing away the lingering annoyance from earlier.

Melanie pulled you onto the dance floor, her infectious energy pulling you in. The music thumped around you, loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and you let it take over, swaying and spinning beside your friends. Ash was laughing as she attempted a ridiculous dance move, nearly knocking into Serena, who shoved her back playfully.

“I love this!” Melanie shouted over the music, spinning in her white dress, her joy radiating like a beacon in the dark, crowded room. She grabbed your hand and twirled you around, almost causing you to stumble. You couldn’t help but laugh, getting swept up in the carefree moment.

“Only Melanie could turn a random club into her own private party,” you teased, still holding her hand as you both moved to the beat.

As the night wore on, you found yourself momentarily breaking away from the group to catch your breath. The room was a blur of colors and sound, and you felt lighter than you had in weeks. Your job had gotten more intense lately, that on top of the wedding had gotten you completely wound up. You leaned against the bar, looking to get something a little stronger.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender leaning over the bar to you. You took a glance at his nametag then back to him. He was seriously attractive.

“I don’t know Felix.” You flirt, “Something sweet and strong. Surprise me.”

He started on something immediately, you pulled out your card and watched him. He had long blonde hair and a cute face. You tried to hide your obvious stare but the alcohol already in your system was getting the better of you. To your surprise he put two down in front of you.

“Two?.”

“One for the bride. Miss Honor. One is on the house.” he grinned, you tilt your head.

“Which one?” You tease. Tapping between the two drinks.

Felix chuckled, leaning in a little closer, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the music. “The one for the cuter one, obviously.” He shot you a wink, and you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a rush of confidence bubble up. It wasn’t often that you found yourself in these kinds of playful exchanges, especially with all the stress you’d been under lately. Tonight, though, it felt good.

You picked up one of the drinks, the fruity aroma already making your mouth water, and took a sip. It was sweet with just the right amount of bite, exactly what you needed. “Damn, you’re good at this. What’s it called?”

“Midnight Kiss,” he said, resting his elbows on the bar as he watched you taste it. “Perfect for someone who looks like they need a little midnight magic.”

You humm, “Cute. Can I get two more? For the other bridesmaids.”

“You got it.”

Felix steps away to make those and you take the opportunity to look back out to the girls. Melanie and Ash were screaming and jumping up and down at the change of the song. You laughed and were eager to get back. Felix brought over two more of the same cocktail. You began trying to figure out a way to manage to get them over to the girls. In your deep thought, you weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings. You end up getting bumped in the shoulder by someone trying to pass by.

“Sorry.” The familiar voice buzzed in your ears, there it was again, the headache.

Jungkook stepped up, Taehyung trailing behind, a faint smile on his face as if he already knew this was a bad idea. Namjoon’s other groomsmen who you didn’t know the name of was also present. “Well if it isn’t the wicked witch of the west?” Jungkook said, his voice dripping with annoyance.

You crossed your arms, and give him a snide smile. “Funny, all I see is a cowardly lion.”

“I knew those flying monkeys we past by earlier were yours.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a challenge in his gaze, one that prickled under your skin.

You crossed your arms, squaring up to him. “What are you guys even doing here anyways?”

Taehyung tried to cut in, keeping things light. “We are on a bar crawl. Funny we all ended up in the same place”

“I planned the same thing. Melanie had never done one.” You trace the rim of the drink Felix had given you.

“Jungkook’s original plan ended up falling through, so we decided this at the last second.” Taehyung added, he was doing anything to diffuse the tension between the both of you.

You forced a smile, trying to keep things civil despite the tension buzzing between you. “Great minds think alike I guess.”

Taehyung nodded, eager to steer things in a lighter direction. “Exactly. Fun coincidence.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. “Coincidence or bad luck? Still figuring that out.”

You shot him a smirk, refusing to back down. “Well, if it’s bad luck, at least you’re consistent. Haven’t seen you get anything right in a long time.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitched, his frustration momentarily overshadowed by amusement. “Yeah? Well, I’m just here to collect my prize for putting up with you. Maybe they’ll name a drink after it—‘Annoyance of Honor,’ bitter with a dash of drama.”

You snorted, raising your glass. “Better than ‘Pathetic Man’ watered down and pointless.”

Taehyung stifled a laugh, stepping between the two of you before things escalated. “Alright, alright, you two—enough with the drink menu! I’m pretty sure the bar doesn’t serve ‘Petty Martini,’ but I’ll check just in case.”

Jungkook bit back his retort, the moment of humor cooling the tension a bit. You glanced at Taehyung, feeling a grudging sense of relief that he’d managed to cut in before things got out of hand.

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the shoulder, flashing an easygoing grin. “Come on, let’s get back to the table. I’ll buy the first round if it keeps you two from turning this into a bar brawl.”

You exchanged one last look with Jungkook, the challenge still lingering but softened by the brief, unexpected exchange. For tonight, the battle would wait. Instead, you huffed and turned away, joining Melanie and the girls again, your mind still racing from the exchange. You could have definitely come up with a better come back but your inebriated mind didn’t have the patience for it.

“What took you so long?” Ash asked, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the tension in your expression.

You forced a smile, passing out the drinks. “Just dealing with a little headache,” you said, brushing off the encounter with Jungkook like it was nothing. You filled them in on Felix, the flirty bartender, hoping the distraction would lighten the mood.

Ash let out a dramatic sigh, already halfway through her drink. “I swear, you’ve got a magnet for chaos.”

You laughed, but it was hollow, the tension from earlier still simmering beneath your skin. You took a long sip of your drink, letting the sweet burn linger in your throat. Tonight was supposed to be fun—a chance to unwind after everything.

Across the bar, Jungkook tried to shake off the encounter as well.

“Your betrothed is here.” Taehyung nudged Namjoon with a playful smile.

Namjoon glanced up, his expression brightening as he looked around for Melanie. His smile was enough to momentarily lift the mood. “Where?”

“She’s with the rest of them on the dance floor, We saw them when we were at the bar.” Jungkook, trying to dance around the scene you two caused.

Taehyung shot a sideways glance at Jungkook before answering. “Not without a little confrontation first.”

Namjoon’s smile faltered as he turned his attention to Jungkook. “What happened?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking another long sip of his drink. “Had a run-in with the maid of honor,” he said, his tone dismissive, but his eyes betrayed the frustration still bubbling beneath the surface.

Namjoon’s brow furrowed, a hint of disappointment creeping into his features. “Small spat, nothing to fret over,” Taehyung cut in, trying to diffuse the situation before it spiraled.

“Small spat?” Namjoon’s voice was laced with disbelief. He turned to Jungkook, his tone sharper than usual. “What did you do this time?”

Jungkook bristled, his annoyance flaring up as he met Namjoon’s gaze. “Why do you always assume it’s my fault?”

Namjoon’s expression was unyielding, a mixture of concern and frustration. “Because I know you, Jungkook. And I know how you two are. You don’t need to prove a point every time you’re in the same room.”

Jungkook bit back a retort, swallowing down the urge to argue further. He knew Namjoon was right, but admitting that would mean facing the uncomfortable truth about his own behavior—and the fact that fighting with you felt almost like second nature now. Comforting in a morbid way.

“It’s not like I go looking for it, nothing happened. We were very… civil considering.” Jungkook took another sip of his drink.

Taehyung nodded, “He’s not wrong, they have been very normal. It’s strange.”

“That is not something I’d ever think you two would be described as.”

“Enough about Y/N.” Jungkook would use any excuse to not have to talk about you anymore, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Namjoon leaned back, trying to relax as Namjoon's brother threw an arm around Taehyung and started chatting animatedly about some old story. The conversation drifted back to lighter topics.

Namjoon, trying to reset the mood, raised his own glass. “To tonight. And to the people who keep us on our toes.”

Jungkook smirked, a bit of his usual bravado creeping back in as he clinked his glass against the others. “To Namjoon.”

The group erupted in cheers, but beneath it all, the unresolved animosity lingered. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, the laughter ringing in his ears as he tried to shake off the encounter.

******************************************************************************

Not too long after your little group ended up moving to one more bar. That is where the night took a little bit of a nose dive. Serena and Melanie had drank one too many and the night devolved into tears. Melanie talking about how in love with Namjoon she is that she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. She was a lightweight so it didn’t take much to get to this point.

You and Ash decided it was time to call it at this point, getting the four of you back to the hotel.

You actually ended up sleeping in your own room last night. Making the morning much easier because you had set several alarms to make sure you and Melanie could both make it down to breakfast in time. That included making sure Melanie didn’t look extremely hung over. Melanie threw curses at you every so often, most of which just made you laugh as you got her down to the lobby.

“I’ll make you a plate.” You whisper to her as you both make it into the room. She gave you a thankful smile as you made your way over to the breakfast buffet that had been set up.

You decided to keep everything light, Melanie didn’t throw up last night but she was not feeling great this morning. So you kept the plate to fruit, and some toast. Easy things. You continue down the line, when Jungkook comes up and starts filling a plate as well.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” He spoke behind you, you didn’t dare turn around to look at him. Your face twitching up in annoyance. A familiar sentence coming from his mouth.

“It’s 8:45, right when I said I would be here.” You continue down the line, stepping further away from him.

“And we were here at 8:30. Since I know how Namjoon’s family are all early risers. So sad they had to wait for the bride to arrive.”

It actually annoyed you, you looked around and sure enough Namjoon was sitting with his family.

“I’ll have you know we were up and moving at 7. Either way, Melanie is the bride. She can arrive whenever she feels likes.” You turn to him now.

“Well I was certainly worried. Since you have a habit of sleeping through important things.”

“Let’s not do this. After all, this isn’t about us.” You give him a flat smile, biting back your disdain.

He couldn’t help but agree. “Fine.”

“I have today planned down to the minute, so if we just stay out of each others way maybe that would be best.” With that you leave him. Letting that be satisfying enough.

You made your way to Melanie, who was deep in conversation with her parents. As you handed Melanie the plate you’d prepared, her grateful smile said everything words couldn’t.

“Mr. and Mrs. Abel, it’s so good to see you again,” you said warmly, shaking her father’s hand before her mother pulled you into a tight hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s lovely to see you too!” Mrs. Abel gushed, squeezing you affectionately.

“I hope you’ve found everything alright, and your check-in went smoothly,” you smiled, glancing between them.

“It’s been wonderful,” her father replied. “Everything’s gone off without a hitch so far.”

“You and Melanie really outdid yourselves with the schedule. It’s so thoughtful—there’s something for everyone,” Mrs. Abel added, her enthusiasm contagious. You and Melanie had spent countless hours planning every detail of the weekend, and hearing it appreciated felt like a small victory.

“Oh, I barely did anything. This was all Melanie’s vision,” you said, squeezing Melanie’s shoulder with a smile. It was true; Melanie’s dream wedding came to life with the help of a meticulous coordinator.

“You’re being too humble,” Melanie chimed in, her voice playful. “I couldn’t have done it without Y/N. They planned this entire day, down to the smallest detail.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to the pickleball match this afternoon,” her father said, chuckling. “I’ve got a rematch with Melanie’s grandpa.”

You laughed, appreciating the lightheartedness. “That’ll be one for the books.”

Just then, Jungkook appeared behind you, his presence immediately setting your nerves on edge. “That sounds like a game that I cannot miss.” he said, his tone light but with a familiar, teasing edge. You faltered for a second, your smile stiffening as Jungkook stepped closer, and you could feel the victory in his eyes.

Jungkook saw you falter for a second and took it as a small victory, “Nice to meet you, you must be Melanie’s parents. I’m Jungkook, we hadn’t had a chance to meet.”

Jungkook shakes both of their hands. Giving his brightest and warmest smiles between the both of them. You would think it’s fake but he is genuine in his greeting.

“Oh you’re the best man!” Melanie’s mom beamed, “I’ve heard so many stories from Namjoon and Melanie about you. It’s nice to have a face to the name now.”

“Hopefully all good things.” Jungkook grimaced, looking to Melanie and completely avoiding the daggers you were staring at him.

You laugh to yourself, probably only bad stories with his track record. Melanie catches you and gives you a pointed look. You mouth a sorry to her. Neither of Melanie’s parents caught what you said, as Jungkook was going on and impressing them and answering questions about himself. You just kept a tight smile on your lips.

“Anyways, I am just here to help everyone get from point A to point B today.” Jungkook bloated and put a hand over his heart. “Any questions you have you can ask me or Y/N.”

He looked at you, you almost couldn’t hide the surprise you had. If anyone had any answers to any questions about the day it was you. You planned this day down. He couldn’t answer any questions.

Mrs. Abel smiled, completely unaware of the tension between you. “It must be so easy to manage all of this with a great team like you two.”

Melanie bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the statement. “Oh, you have no idea,” Melanie said, patting your back. “Right? A dream team.”

You paused a little too long, “Yes… uhh Jungkook and I will be available for anything anyone needs today.”

You really stumble through your words. It's painful for you, but funny for Jungkook. Watching you force the words out even though if he was asked the same thing, he would struggle as well.

“I just remembered,” You clear your throat, finding the first excuse to speak to Jungkook, “Namjoon’s parents wanted to meet the two of you before your joint lunch today. They are just over there.”

You point between them close to the window where Namjoon and his brother were in a small huddle together.

“Oh that would be lovely.” Melanie’s mom pulls her husband along over to them. Melanie decides to follow close in tow. Turning back to the two of you and wiggling her fingers between the both of you like she had her eye on both you and Jungkook. You waited until they were out of earshot.

“What's wrong with you?” You ask, keeping a smile on your face and looking at Jungkook. He feigned innocence in his smile.

“What?” Jungkook tilted his head, wondering what you could have a problem with now?

“Since when did you decide to be so helpful? And since when were we a team?” You kept the smile up but your voice dripped with your rage.

“I wasn’t able to help with any of the wedding planning. Believe it or not I love weddings. Namjoon is my best friend so I made sure that I knew today and tomorrow's schedules in and out. So, I could help this all move along as smoothly as possible.” He sounded genuine, but you still weren’t buying it. Weren’t buying that he was blowing smoke out of his ass.

“Oh really?” you challenged, crossing your arms. “What’s happening at 2?”

“Wine tasting for the family or a drawing class for the artsy types,” he recited effortlessly.

“4?”

“Pickleball and the extended family photoshoot with the bride and groom in the garden.”

“11:30?” you shot back, expecting him to slip.

Jungkook smirked. “Nice try. Nothing’s planned at 11:30 because that’s when Melanie, Namjoon, and their parents are at lunch. The rest of us are on our own until activities resume at 2. Just like you scheduled.”

He didn’t just know the schedule—he’d nailed every detail. Your irritation simmered beneath your carefully composed expression, but Jungkook’s smirk told you he knew exactly how much this was getting under your skin.

“Guess I underestimated you,” you finally muttered, the words bitter in your mouth.

Jungkook leaned in just a touch, his voice low and smug. “You usually do.”

You sigh for a moment, you felt awkward because you were fighting every instinct in you to say he looks like trash or something.

“Rainbows and kindness,” you mutter under your breath, the words a futile mantra against the frustration simmering inside you.

“What was that?” Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow, already catching onto your annoyance.

“It’s what Melanie told me to be. So, that what I’m trying to do.”

He chuckles, the sound smug. “Yeah, well, Namjoon said something similar.”

“Again, let’s just stay as far apart as we can.”

“Easy.”

From that point on, you’re both doing your best to stay in your own lanes, but it’s impossible. As the maid of honor and best man, your roles keep intersecting, forcing you into the same space over and over again. Family members keep approaching, asking questions, and every interaction feels like another round in a never-ending battle. It’s not enough to just help; you and Jungkook are determined to outshine each other at every turn.

When a minor crisis breaks out over the seating arrangements, you step in, taking charge and fixing the issue with quick, efficient adjustments. You’re feeling proud—until you turn around and see Jungkook guiding the servers with a charm that has them hanging on his every word.

“Make sure the champagne is properly chilled before the toasts,” he instructs, his tone smooth and authoritative. The servers nod eagerly, clearly impressed.

You sidle up to him, maintaining a smile for the benefit of the guests nearby. “Didn’t know you were the expert on bubbly now.”

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, flashing you a grin that’s equal parts irritating and infuriating. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure it’s perfect.”

“Oh, please,” you say, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I’ve been coordinating this for weeks. I don’t need a last-minute savior swooping in.”

He raises an eyebrow, unfazed. “I’m not trying to save anything, just making sure Namjoon and Melanie get the day they deserve, remember? You should try it sometime—teamwork.”

You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to head off to the room where the drawing class is happening.. But even as you’re leaving, you can feel Jungkook’s presence on the other side of the room, always just a step behind or ahead, always in your orbit.

Later, you’re guiding Melanie’s extended family through a lineup for the family photos when you catch sight of Jungkook doing the same with Namjoon’s side. He’s charming, attentive, and he even manages to make the grumpy uncle crack a smile. It’s infuriating how good he is at this, and the worst part is that you know he’s doing it on purpose—to get under your skin and, maybe, to prove that he belongs here just as much as you.

As the day winds down, you both end up at the drinks table, refilling your glasses with water. The quiet moment feels like a truce, but not a comfortable one.

“You’ve really been busting your ass today,” you admit, your tone begrudging as you sip your water.

Jungkook leans against the table, his smirk never fully leaving his face. “Told you. I take this seriously.”

“You’ve memorized the schedule almost as well as I wrote it.” you say, half impressed, half annoyed.

“What can I say? Namjoon’s my best friend. I wanted to be ready for anything.” He shrugs, but there’s pride in his voice. “Besides, I figured you’d be busy enough handling the details. Someone had to pick up the slack.”

You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from retorting. “Still doesn’t mean I find you any less shitty, you know that?”

Jungkook laughs softly, a rare moment of genuine amusement. “Right back at you.”

For a brief second, the tension between you eases, replaced by an understanding that you’re both here for the same reason: to make sure your best friends have the perfect wedding. It’s fleeting, though, gone as soon as it arrives when Jungkook straightens up, that competitive glint back in his eyes.

“See you later. Let’s see who cracks first,” he says, holding out his glass in a toast.

You raise your glass to him in a challenge, your smile more determined than ever. “Don’t hold your breath.”

As you part ways, you can already feel the simmering rivalry gearing up for another round. But deep down, there’s a tiny, begrudging respect forming—though neither of you would ever admit it.

Finally you all had made it to the rehearsal dinner though.

Which luckily was more casual and the bridal party and all the guests got to come and say hello to the happy couple. Melanie had coordinated a lovely dinner for tonight, and they kept it light so that everyone could just take time to meet each other. This was the first time most of the family would be meeting.

Jungkook disappeared at some point in the afternoon. Which made you feel a little lighter and you felt like it was easier to focus on talking with family members and help people find the rehearsal dinner.

“Feel like you have been a ghost all day.” Ash came up to you and handed you a glass with some cocktail.

“I could say the same for you.” You take a sip. “I feel like I just floated here. So, ghost is accurate.”

“I’ve been trying to pick out the wild card for the weekend.” Ash said this in a quieter tone and you laugh.

“Oh yeah? Who’s giving you the vibe?” You glance around the room.

“Right now my number one is Namjoon’s uncle.” She points over to the bar, “He has taken full advantage of the open bar. He gives me the ‘takes the mic and gives his own speech’ type, I kind of want to see it happen but I’m also ready to take him down.”

“Strong contender.” You nod your head in agreement.

“What about you, anyone giving you a vibe?” Ash leaned against you a little bit, keeping your conversation close to yourselves.

“Hmm…” You look around the room, “Definitely Melanie’s divorced aunt and uncle. She’s basically a child to them since they had none of their own. They keep trying to one up each other all day.”

Sounds familiar.

“Oh that’s solid. Well if it’s neither of those, maybe it’s you and Jungkook.”

“Over my dead body.” You roll your eyes, “He’s insufferable but we made a promise to be civil. Although trying, I think we did really good today at keeping it casual. I'll take the win.”

“Speaking of, where is he, and Tae, where are our groomsmen?”

“Smoke break?” Wouldn’t be the first time, as much as you scrolled Jungkook for smoking. You scolded Taehyung even harder.

“Actually I was talking to a cute little thing, but I don’t think she’s interested.” Jungkook appeared behind the both of you, then he points to Namjoon’s great grandmother. You had met her earlier, she was very sweet.

“I think she can do better.” You take a long sip of your drink.

Jungkook gives that same annoyed look he’s given you a thousand times before. Something about the air around him now felt different than earlier. His cool and cooperative demeanor seemed to have dropped. You knew when Jungkook was starting to get things riled up. He probably had a couple of drinks and now he was going to come over and cause a stink. Get you to embarrass yourself somehow.

“Don’t worry I looked for a date for you as well. I did see a snake outside earlier, asked him if he could be your date for the weekend.” Jungkook met your action in turn, also taking a long sip of whatever venom he had in his cup.

“Okay.” You keep it short and don’t look at him. You were right, you’re not sure what happened but now he was looking for a fight.

Ash could feel the tension rising, she wanted to escape before this bomb went off.

“Hmm… so you were serious about being nice. Shocking.” Jungkook places himself right next to you.

“I’m going to regret this. Might I ask why you think that’s shocking? I have been doing just fine at it all day.” You sigh, but continue looking around the room, anywhere but at Jungkook.

“Just surprised is all. I had to do it too.”

“Yeah, barely but I appreciate it.”

“Looks like you can keep a promise after all.”

Keeping your voice level. “Any reason, you’re trying to make it difficult now? I don’t get you.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning in closer. “Because you make it so easy.”

You took a deep breath, don’t let him get to you. “I’m not doing this with you tonight. Not here.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like anyone cares. They’re all too busy fawning over the happy couple.” he said, waving a hand dismissively towards Namjoon and Melanie.

“Still doesn’t mean we should pull attention to ourselves at all.” You tap your glass.

You both stay silent for a second. Ash was nervous standing so close to the both of you. It’s like you were two stars about to collide into each other.

“Let’s just stay away from each other again, okay?”

“To be honest, I’d rather not be anywhere near you,” Jungkook replied, taking another sip of his drink.

“Great. We agree on something.” you said, turning away from him.

Ash grabbed the opportunity to interject. “So, uh, have you guys tried the appetizers? They’re really good.”

“Yeah, the appetizers are great,” you said, forcing a smile.

“Maybe you should eat some more,” Jungkook said, a wicked glint in his eye. “Might help with that attitude of yours.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re predictable,” he shot back.

“I’m done.” You turned on your heel and started to walk away, but Jungkook followed.

You had to get away, you were going to be nice but you weren’t going to take his abuse. The two of you had been doing really good, did you step on something of his and now he wants to fight again? Getting to another part of the room was the smart and sensible choice right now. To your surprise he stays in toe with you.

“Oh running away? There’s the y/n I recognize.” He came close to your ear, and you push him away from you lightly.

“I don’t need this right now Jungkook.” You were making your way to Melanie and Namjoon. Their presence would maybe force him to be on his best behavior.

They were with Melanie’s parents though, you didn’t want to interrupt. You needed to retreat to another place of solitude. Saying polite hellos to people you recognized and family you had met earlier in the day. Jungkook doing the same as he continued to follow you.

“Jungkook. You promised.” You turn to him suddenly and it makes him almost fall over, reminding him of something you can only imagine Namjoon made him promise. “Please go somewhere. Take your snake venom and use it on someone else.”

“I’d rather not.” He shrugged and placed his cup on a nearby table. Jungkook couldn’t help himself, he wanted to fight with you.

“Why?”

Jungkook thinks for a moment,“Because I’m waiting for the moment that your façade finally drops. Then everyone will see what you are truly like.” He words dripped with disdain, and he was serious.

His goal was to see you fall.

“My facade? Really? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Must be taxing for you.” You look directly into his eyes now.

“What?” He tilted his head.

“Being around a couple who is successful, must be taxing, knowing you will never have anyone like they have each other.” Because how could anyone ever want to be around someone like this.

“At least I never let the same person make a fool of me over and over while I let everyone watch the wreckage.”

He spoke about David, your college ex. Again, David cheated on you and made everyone believe that you were the crazy one. You forgave David one too many times before the end.

This was enough though and ancient history. Your anger washed through you, this was not the time nor the place. You didn’t care. He was throwing this in your face again. After so much time. How childish could he be? He would stoop so low again? What was wrong with him?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You scoff.

“What? Can dish it but can’t take it?” He clicked his glass against yours.

“Come here.” You basically bark at Jungkook and grab the sleeve of his jacket. You rush him out of the reception into the hall. Making it so you can keep whatever fight this could possibly turn into just between the both of you.

“Ow!” He rips his arm away, almost looking disgusted that you even touched him.

“You know I have gone over this in my mind again and again…” you pace from left to right shaking your head, disbelief running through you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I thought maybe that just for one day you could put whatever problem you have with me aside. For one day we could be civil and pretend to be friendly. So Melanie and Namjoon could have a special day. I guess I was fucking wrong about you again. You simply can’t help but pick a fight.” You were spitting your words with pure disdain towards him, he had really set you off this evening.

“Hold on, I’m perfectly capable of being on my best behavior.” His words were just as angry as yours, he had his arms crossed over his chest. Defenses up, he was ready to break you down.

“You’re fucking joking right? It’s just like you to shift blame away from yourself again. You said all of that intentionally to get some rise out of me. To get me to embarrass myself. What were you just too bored? Had to pull focus onto yourself because you couldn’t stand it being on someone else? ” You run both of your hands through your hair angrily, eyes darting all around to look at anything but him.

He scoffed at you.

“Trust me, I spare you zero thoughts enough to do that on purpose and I was not pulling focus to myself.”

“Please you and I both know this was damn well on purpose and now we are causing a scene.”

“Oh shut up” he dragged out his words in annoyance, “You really think I wanted this to happen? To be in a screaming match with you instead of having a good time?”

“Jungkook this is all we do! Are you fucking joking? That’s why we are never in the same room together because you’re a self-centered asshole! And I can’t stand you! No one can!” Your blood felt like it was on fire. What you were saying may not have been all true but you didn’t care. You wanted to stick him where it could hurt. Your face was completely red and your breath heavy in your chest.

“Yeah I’m the asshole. Fucking grow up, get off your high horse, and realize you are just as bad as me!”

You were moments away from actually grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. Maybe this would be the time you actually hit Jungkook.

Namjoon stepped between the two of you right at that second. Surprising the both of you and it was like you split like magnets.

“Hey!” He looked between the two of you, he was fuming, “What the hell is wrong with you two? Everyone can hear the both of you. You seriously couldn’t hold it together for me or for a few fucking days?” Jungkook tries to say something in protest but Namjoon shuts him up, “Not another word. Yelling about this shit right outside the rehearsal? Get your fucking acts together and take this bullshit outside. If you can’t figure this out, you both won’t be welcome tomorrow.”

“Namjoon I’m—.” You start and he gives you an almost similar look he gave Jungkook and you stop.

He never really spoke like that ever. He looked more worried than anything but he was serious about us not being able to come back. You heard him whisper ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath after leaving the both of you in the hallway. How embarrassing though, getting kick out of your own friend’s celebration. Jungkook felt the same, but neither of you looked at each other or said anything for a moment.

“Just awesome.” He said as he walked outside and you followed. Figured he made the choice for both of you to finish this outside.

You fully expect a punch will be thrown by the end of this. Your rage had certainly been drained by Namjoon breaking you and Jungkook apart though.

You both stood in silence outside in the cold. It was dark out now. It was still damp on the ground from a shower you hadn’t even known happened. The smell filled you with a sigh. Your skin was hugged by the cold and it made you shiver a little. Jungkook was shuffling through his pockets, looking for something. He suddenly pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Do you really have to do that right now?” You huff and rub your arms.

“Do you really have to bug me right now?” His voice dripping with disdain, and he places a cigarette between his lips. Lights the end of it.

“We weren’t exactly done talking in there.”

“With Namjoon’s entrance, seemed like it. Can you leave me alone now?” he shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“I don’t fucking know where I thought we would end up coming out here. Embarrassing enough getting kicked out basically .” You rub your hands together to try to warm them up a little bit.

“That makes two of us. I don’t know why the fuck you came out here either.”

You didn’t look at each other. Only acknowledging each other in your peripherals. You feel like looking at his idiotic face you might just get angry. You wanted to at least come to a truce to be able to get back inside and have a good rest of your night. You didn’t know how to fucking talk to this guy. Even after all this time, he still just bites back at you as much as you bite at him.

He sighs heavily and a rather large puff of smoke makes its way into your vision as the wind moves it in your direction. Jungkookw was trying to blow it in another direction, he didn't like you but wouldn’t blow smoke at you. Guess nature had a different plan.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you, you know smoking is horrible for you.”

“Oh suddenly you give a shit about what kills me and what won’t?”

“Jesus what is your problem with me? I just said you shouldn’t smoke and you told me to fuck off. You clearly have some big fucking problem with me that you need to fight all the time.” You stand square facing him now and he does the same. Matching up to your energy as best as he can.

He holds his cigarette between his fingers and blows out another puff of smoke into the air above the both of you.

“I think you should take a hard look at yourself first, what is your problem with me? Seems I piss you off more often then you piss me off.”

“My explanation would make no difference. Oh wait you refuse to listen anyone other than yourself, my bad.” You roll your eyes, it probably wouldn’t.

“No I seem to have done something else to you, but from where I stand. I didn’t do anything.”

“You're just a dick okay? Your personality sucks and you seem to have little care about the people around you and you don’t give second chances because one mistake is the end for you. Having zero regard about the things you can say or use against them.” You shifted your weight back and forth.

“Last time I checked what I said or did had little meaning to you.”

“Doesn’t mean that the things you say or do aren’t hurtful.” You march up to him and poke him in the chest and push back a little, he takes a small step back. “Doesn’t make getting called an asshole, a bitch, annoying, or anything else hurt less. Your words do mean nothing. Less than that even... It can still hurt though.”

You stare into his eyes, the fire behind your eyes must have been bright. His mood seemed to shift in front of you. Jungkook was puzzled but at this point it’s like he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help just pushing that one last button to get you into a fight, you were no better. Neither of you were like this with anyone else you knew.

By everyone’s else accounts, the both of you were very kind and considerate people. Almost always putting others above yourselves. Except when it came to each other, fighting was all you knew. It was easy, maybe almost comforting for Jungkooks heavy heart. A thousand pound weight on yours. It was slowly going to kill the both of you.

You realized what you had said and retreated back, holding your arms around yourself.

For one second you looked almost sad. Which Jungkook chocked up to being in his mind quickly.

“Just forget it.” You turn around and decide to drop the whole thing, go back inside. You were tired and you wanted nothing more than to go back inside and have a good night. Jungkook jogged around in front of you and brought you both to a stop.

Nothing had been solved, Jungkook thought. This would just happen again, god forbid it happen tomorrow.

“No. Namjoon told us to take this outside. We are outside, and you said something real to me for once. So spit it out. Say what you and I both know you actually want to say.” He backed you up with several singular steps. His cigarette hung from his lips. The smell of it filling your nostrils. You eventually felt the cold wall meet your back.

“You stink.” You basically spit at him.

He gives you a not so amused smile.

“Really had to throw one more punch my way huh?”

“What can I say. You piss me off.”

He was much closer in proximity to you than you had realized. This was probably the closest you had ever stood to him, willingly. It was incredibly uncomfortable. Your eyes are flickering in between the cigarette in his mouth and back to a blank stare into his eyes.

“Yeah, well you get on my last nerves.”

“Anyways none of it matters anyways, I won’t forgive you just like you won’t forgive me.”

The distance stayed the same between the both of you. It became more and more comfortable the longer he kept the proximity. He’s wanting a specific answer from you, but he probably figures with how annoying you are you will not be giving it up.

“Fine.”

He blows another puff of smoke away from you.

It was silent as some water droplets that came off the building's roof hit the ground, echoing around the both of you.

You were going to smell like cigarettes too after this exchange. Gross.

You both sat in silence for a while, you glance over to him every so often. Mostly examining his arm, you remember a time when he had no tattoos but now his arm had a complete sleeve. He had several tattoos that spanned down his arm. Some of them were exposed with his sleeves being rolled up. They were rather beautiful, for being on someone so vile.

“You’re too uptight you know that?” he interrupts your thoughts.

“Better than a loose cannon.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“I was relaxed before your existence came into my life,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook chuckles, not missing a beat. “Oh, come on. If I’m the one ruining your peace, then maybe the problem isn’t me.”

“Yeah?” you retorted, crossing your arms. “What’s your brilliant diagnosis, then?”

He leaned in just a bit, his smirk sharp. “Seems to me someone who was being satisfied correctly wouldn’t be so goddamn annoying.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Then you must be a virgin.”

And just like that, you were right back where you always ended up with him. The insults, the jabs—it was a fight you’d both played out countless times before. You knew the script by heart: digs at each other’s sex lives, accusations flying, and the inevitable fallback of calling each other assholes. It was exhausting, predictable, and you were painfully aware that neither of you would gain any ground this way.

Same old, same old with Jungkook.

“Trust me, I’m well taken care of.” Jungkook took in a sharp hit from his cigarette.

“I’m sure you are. Easy to stick your dick in anything when you lack human emotions.” You could cut your sarcasm with a brick.

“All talk but it seems to me no one has taken a good dip into you in a while.”

“What am I? Ranch?”

“See I would laugh but I think you know I’m right.”

It hadn’t been that long but it was disappointing the last time you slept with someone. Just a one time thing, your usual routine. You hadn’t really had time to properly date these days but weren’t really look that hard. Just needed some easy flings, and men are disappointing in bed most of the time.

“This is some major fan behavior thinking about my sex life Jungkook.” You tease.

“I’ll become your fan when I’m dead.”

“Oh can’t wait.”

“For my fan favor?”

“For you to drop dead.”

He was quiet. Didn’t make a retort back. Just stood there, staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t his usual glare; it was something else. Almost like he was lost in thought. The silence between you stretched out, the usual banter gone, replaced by an unfamiliar tension that made your skin prickle.

“What if…” he finally said, voice barely audible and laced with uncertainty.

You gave him a confused look, waiting for the punchline or some snide remark, but none came. He stayed quiet, just staring, his eyes drifting from your face to the ground and back up again. The silence was starting to make you itch.

“What if...what?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Spit it out, or are you trying to communicate telepathically now?”

He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. “Just—hypothetically, okay? Don’t make this weird.”

“Oh, sure,” you snorted. “Because you being weirdly introspective isn’t already weird.”

Jungkook shot you a look, somewhere between exasperation and nerves. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing up at the ceiling like it might give him the right words. “Just hear me out. You and I...we don’t get along. We clash. Constantly. And it’s...annoying.”

“Wow, Jungkook. Stunning revelation,” you deadpanned, giving him a slow clap. “What’s next? Gonna tell me water is wet?”

“Just shut up for two seconds?” he snapped, but his voice lacked its usual bite. “We’ve tried talking—well, shouting—and we’re still stuck in this...thing.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Nothing gets better, and it’s just the same shit on repeat.”

“So, what? You want to, like, go to therapy together?” you joked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are we about to hug it out? ‘Cause I’m warning you, I do bite.”

Jungkook let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “God, no. I’m not...I don’t know, looking for some emotional breakthrough. I’m just saying—talking isn’t cutting it, right?”

You squinted at him, still not catching on. “If this is your roundabout way of trying to be friends, I’ll save you the trouble. Hard pass.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to get the words out. “Not friends. Not...ugh, okay, screw it.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “What if we try something different? You know, like...a different kind of release.”

Everything about him right now felt so out of place and it made you uncomfortable. He was boyish, reminded you of how he was in college a little bit.

Your brows furrowed as he avoided your gaze, looking almost embarrassed. “What? This guessing game is not working for me.”

He took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know...what if we, like...”

You stared at him, expecting another insult or some nonsense, but he just kept hesitating. His hands fidgeted, and his eyes darted between your face and the ground. It was so out of character that it almost made you laugh. Jungkook felt so out of place, and almost wrong for even thinking of the idea. Reminded him of a stupid theory Taehyung had.

“Jungkook, seriously, whatever ridiculous thing you’re trying to say—”

He finally looked up, meeting your eyes, and blurted it out, sounding almost relieved to get it off his chest. “What if we just...you know, slept together?”

There was a beat of silence between he two of you. you blinked at him. You weren’t even sure if you had heard him right but you before you could say anything you were laughing. A little too hysterically in his face. Until you actually looked at him, he was serious. He was serious?

“No way you want to—” you started, stifling a laugh, but his serious expression didn’t waver. “On no planet or universe are we having sex, Jungkook. That’s a horrible idea.”

He clicked his tongue, shifting his weight, trying hard to appear nonchalant even as he fidgeted. “Could help relieve some tension between the two of us. We keep fighting, but maybe we just need to, I don’t know...get it out of our systems.”

“You’re actually serious?” you asked, waiting for the punchline that never came.

“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’ with a confidence that didn’t quite reach his eyes, his bravado thinly masking the nerves underneath. “It’s a stupid theory Taehyung has. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides, you know...you realizing I’m right.”

You squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was just screwing with you. “Back up. What theory?”

“Sex fixes everything,” he said, deadpan.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, the sheer absurdity of it catching you off guard. “Wow, and you’re taking that guy’s advice here?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, visibly regretting even bringing it up.

He sighed, remembering the countless times Taehyung had rambled on about his foolproof ‘solution’ back in his serial playboy days. It was the kind of theory only Taehyung could concoct. Fighting? Bang it out. Unrequited feelings? Bang it out. Stress? Bang it out. Stub your toe on the way to the bathroom? Well, bang it out. The list went on and on, a never-ending stream of inappropriate fixes for any and every problem.

And now here Jungkook was, standing in front of you, actually considering it.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you said, still laughing, your sides beginning to hurt. “You’re seriously standing here thinking Taehyung—Mr. ‘I slept with half the city before breakfast’—knows what he’s talking about?”

Jungkook let out an awkward chuckle, half embarrassed, half defensive. “I know, okay? It’s insane. But like...nothing else has worked, right? And it’s not like you’ve got any better ideas.”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised, fully enjoying watching him flounder. “So your grand solution to us hating each other is to do exactly what Taehyung would do. What’s next, you gonna get us matching bathrobes and a mini bar?”

“Hey, don’t knock the mini bar,” he retorted, unable to hold back a small smile. “But yeah, pretty much. Look, it’s stupid, but it’s Taehyung logic. He swears by it.”

You shook your head, still incredulous. “He also once swore he could cure a hangover by eating an entire pizza in one bite. The man’s not exactly a genius.”

“I’m not saying it’s perfect advice,” Jungkook mumbled, his ears turning slightly red. “I just thought...I don’t know. It’s different from whatever the hell this is.”

“Are you even attracted to me?”

He shrugged, “You don’t physically repulse me. It’s just your personality that’s the worst.”

“Says Satan’s spawn,” you shot back, but there was no real heat in your words, more shock than anything.

Jungkook let out a small, awkward laugh. “So, what do you say? For science?”

You shook your head, more bewildered than angry. “Jungkook, this is not a science experiment.”

He stepped forward, doing a small, ridiculous spin like he was modeling for you. “Come on, you gotta admit—I’m at least a solid seven. Maybe eight on a good day.”

“You’re not... ugly.” you mumbled, suddenly finding your shoes incredibly interesting.

Jungkook smirked, but it was softer, less confident than usual. “Well, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Look at us, making progress.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the weird buzz of adrenaline mixed with tension in the air. This was unfamiliar territory, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh, scream, or maybe—just maybe—consider his ridiculous proposition.

“It’s’ like I said. Talking seems to get us nowhere and doesn’t make us any friendlier.”

He was actually considering this.

“You don’t actually think that could help?”

“It’s up to you. It doesn’t hurt to try. After all we have tried every other way imaginable to get along”

“You just want to get your dick wet.”

“Sue me. I’m human.”

The ideas swirled around in your head for a while. That shit doesn’t actually work? Sex can be too weird and too emotional for people. It wouldn’t actually relieve tension between you two? He never really seemed like the hook up type, even though you were. He’s serious though, you can tell by his expression that he wants to.

You stared at him for a second though, letting the thought sink in. What would it be like? To kiss him, to hold him. To feel– okay woah. Your skin was getting hot. The thought was exciting, you had never hate fucked someone. You hadn’t really looked at him in the eyes this whole time but he kept his sight on you to try to determine your answer on your face. Just letting you decide.

“I’m just offering the idea. You can say no.” He places a hand on the wall beside you, “I can see you seriously jumping hoops in your mind right now… I also wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I would kill you if you told anyone.”

A beat of silence.

“So… is that a yes?”

“I-…” Your mouth was moving before your mind could, “Okay.”

Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

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lowkeyerror · 8 months ago

Text

The Family Business Ch.6

WandaNat x Raeder

Word Count: 2.4k

Ch. Notes: Rising tensions

Summary: The after math of the fallout between Wanda and her family leads to an all too important business meeting the next day.

An: haha I didn't almost forget to post today... And don't hate me for the next chapter please

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“What um… what number are you guys staying in? Do you know?” You ask, finally breaking the silence as you arrived at the building.

“220,” Natasha answers for them.

You nod, “I’m in 216, we’ll be right across from each other.”

The ride in the elevator was as silent as the car ride. The anger that was permeating off of Wanda had slightly reduced, but not by much. When the elevator opens, you escort the women to their apartment.

You point across the hall then say, “Well this is you and that is me if you need anything you can always knock."

You attempt to walk away, but a soft grip around your wrist stops you. Your gaze slowly rises to meet Wanda’s. She pulls you into her and the warmth of her embrace let’s you know that she’ll be alright.

“Goodnight little krolik,” she kisses the top of your head before making her way into her new home.

“She’s going to be ok right?” You ask Natasha and she smiles softly at you.

“I’ll make sure of it lisichka. Go rest, you've had an eventful day. “

Its like her words trigger a yawn from your lips. Exhaustion is finally catching up to you properly.

“Goodnight, Nat.”

Once you go into your condo you sigh. The quiet finally getting the best of you. Though you were exhausted your mind was racing. Car chase, Wanda, Natasha, dinner, it all hit you at once. Despite your thoughts you attempt to get ready for bed.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand as soon as your head hits the pillow. It’s a text from Dragos calling for a meeting tomorrow at 9am. You put the phone back down and shut your eyes. This would all feel easier to deal with in the morning.

When your alarm rings at 7 am, you are quick to shut it off. Your sleep had been restless, and you feel the previous nights events weighing heavily on your shoulders. Nonetheless you stumble out of your bed.

After you brush your teeth, you throw on a pair of sweats to get your morning run in before the meeting. Usually, you’d do a run followed by a more rigorous workout, but you were short on time.

Your mind is clear as you begin to run away from the condo. Your only thoughts are focusing on your breathing.

Gloom hadn’t yet left the city. Though it wasn’t raining yet you wouldn’t be surprised if it started up later. Traffic seemed light, not a lot of cars were passing you on the road. The cool air was welcomed against your face as your body temperature slowly rose with each stride.

For a small moment in time, you were at peace. Part of you wished to skip the meeting and just take a lazy day. However, that wasn’t an option because you didn’t work in a regular job field. The non-negotiables of your profession were few but harsh. While you knew the Maximoff’s were lenient with you, you never craved to take advantage of that.

When you arrive back to your building, you quickly shower and dress. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang. Opening the door, you are met by a familiar red head, who seems to be in a better mood than last night.

“Morning little krolik, I come with coffee and a bagel.”

You smile, “The occasion?”

“I was hoping we’d carpool to work.”

You nod a few times, “Of course, just let me grab my coat and we can head out.”

Quickly you grab your belongings and follow Wanda to her car. You quietly munch on the bagel during the car ride.

“No Natasha today?”

She shakes her head, “Papa is still unsure of her role in the company, so he doesn't want her at the meeting.”

“Speaking of Dragos, are you feeling any better from… yesterday?”

Wanda takes a deep breath. You see her hands clench around the wheel and her demeanor shifts slightly.

“I assume the meeting will further address what happened last night,” she speaks flatly.

“Wanda, you have to keep calm.”

You see her jaw clench, “I will reflect whatever mood is brought unto me.”

You shake your head, “You and I both know that nothing gets solved with that kind of behavior.”

“So, what, you want me to bow down and apologize?” The irritation in her voice doesn’t phase you.

“That’s not what I said. I’m saying you can’t get into a yelling match, and you can’t put your hands on anyone.”

“If they were honest with me from the beginning I wouldn’t have-"

You cut her off, “I didn’t ask for an explanation Wanda. I’m telling you something that I know you are already aware of. If you want to head this organization, you have to keep your emotions in check.”

She mumbles underneath her breath. You raise an eyebrow at her childish antics, “What was that?”

“I said, it’s easier to keep my emotions in check when the lies aren’t about you.”

You fumble with your words briefly before speaking, “Well I told you truth, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but- “

“Well, there you have it. If you want to know something about me, it’s best to ask me. However, if I tell you, and you don’t like what you hear you have to deal with that on your own time,” you glance at her.

She chuckles softly to herself, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how much you’ve grown.”

You smile, but then it falters as you recall the argument from last night. Wanda had made Pietro and Dragos retreat instantly when mentioning something that revolved around you. You want to know what it is.

“Wanda, what are they hiding from me?”

You can visibly see the woman pale, “Do you trust me Y/n?”

You nod slowly.

She sighs, “When it’s the right time, I’ll tell you.”

You want to argue more, but you don’t. You trust Wanda, you know she has your best interests in mind. So, you fight the urge to be upset for the rest of the car ride.

When you get to the office, the two of you ride straight to the top floor. Dragos, Pietro, and Flora were already there. The room is tense as you both sit across from them. Usually you’d sit by Pietro’s side, but you weren’t going to let Wanda feel alone in this.

“You can disagree with me if you want, but your actions yesterday proved why keeping you in the dark about the situation with Y/n was the right thing to do. You’re hot-headed now, but back then you were even worse,” Dragos looks his daughter in the eye when he speaks.

You can feel the anger radiating off of Wanda’s body and for a moment you think she is going to have an outburst. Instead, she puts her elbows on the table and leans forward, never breaking eye contact with her father.

“We are a family and I thought that we agreed on having no secrets from each other. In this business a secret is the most dangerous weapon that could be used against us. My potential reaction aside, keeping this secret from me is breaking the rules you set in place. Or do the rules only apply to me?”

Wanda’s response was damn good in your opinion. Although she was angry you saw her hands clasping each other for dear life as a sign of restraint.

“Can we just move on from this? It was 5 years ago, and Y/n is fine now,” Pietro tries to defuse the tension.

Wanda shakes her head, “As much as this is about Y/n, it’s also about not respecting me enough to keep me properly informed about our family and our business. It’s unfair for you all to sit here and claim that I’m solely in the wrong. We can’t move on until all parties take responsibility for their part in this,” Wanda holds firm.

It's weird being in a meeting about yourself, but almost having nothing to do with anything being discussed.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that Y/n didn’t want us to tell you?” Dragos states and your body tenses.

“No,” Wanda says nonchalantly, as if his question was unimportant.

“What if she…”

Wanda’s glare hits her father like an ice pick to the back, “This isn’t a hypothetical, papa. If in some universe out their Y/n wanted you to keep it a secret from me, then that would be fine. However, this isn’t that universe, now is it Y/n?”

She doesn’t look at you, but you answer her question firmly, “No, it isn’t.”

“The best way to move forward from this is an apology from both sides. Wanda has just returned and we’ve dwelled on this matter for too long,” Flora stops the argument in it’s track.

You thought it was a civil solution. It would be for the best, but just by taking a quick glance at Wanda you can tell that she doesn’t want to apologize. It was her rigid posture and her hardened eyes. She felt like she did nothing wrong, but you were hoping she would stand down for the greater good.

“Wanda, I’m sorry we intentionally kept this from you. It is not the way we do things around here. Forgive me, docha,” Dragos speaks sincerely as he looks at Wanda.

She doesn’t seem to be budging. You make the judgment call by discreetly placing your hand on her thigh. This causes her to look in your direction and you speak to her with your eyes. Your features are telling her to apologize. You see her posture relaxes and her eyes soften a bit.

“I’m sorry for the way that I acted last night. It was uncalled for, regardless of my feelings,” she speaks with an equal amount of sincerity.

“Good, now that we’ve settled that I’m going to cut to the chase. Natasha, what assets does she bring to the table?” Dragos moves on to business fairly quickly.

Wanda follows his suit, speaking highly of her wife, “Natasha is a hands on kind of employee. She thrives being where the action is and that doesn’t just mean in a fight. She’s a highly trained assassin, her accolades are insurmountable, and there’s quite literally nothing that she can’t do.”

“She can start as head of security, and we can see what she can do from there,” Dragos offers, but even you think the role is undercutting Natasha’s abilities.

Wanda seems frustrated, but she is going to agree to these terms.

You speak up, “I think she should be in charge of field operations.”

“You and Pietro handle the field operations just fine, why add a third?” Dragos questions with curiosity not animosity.

“To avoid things like what happened yesterday with Mr. H. Right now, the way we operate is that Piet comes and gets me when needed and we just go from there. It’s not strategic at all, I’m usually in the car before I know what exactly it is that we’re doing,” you argue your position.

“It always works out,” Pietro fires back.

Your eyes lock on his, “But it could work better. With me running numbers for the company and for our business, I don’t always have the time to sit and plan out these operations. We all know that Piet doesn’t believe in planning. It’s field operations, it shouldn’t always just be Piet and me. We should have men out there with us incase things go south, but there’s never a plan for that.”

“And you think the addition of Ms. Romanoff will add…” Dragos leads off his sentence.

“She’s going to add structure and power by organizing this department into an actual department rather than just Piet and I doing deliveries in car. She’s experienced and we should be using that to our advantage, especially with us potentially being undercut at the moment.”

Dragos ponders, which is a good thing. It means he believes there is something to everything you’re saying.

“Give her a week on field operations and if you don’t see any type of benefit, she can be head of security,” Wanda offers a compromise.

“Only a week?” His disbelief is hidden in his voice, but you know it’s there.

“It’s all she needs,” Wanda says with confidence.

“Alright, that’s everything for today- “

“We’re not going to address the Kingpin situation?” You stay planted firmly in your chair.

Dragos sighs, “I will deal with Kingpin personally. I had Kate set up a meeting at neutral territory.”

You shook your head knowing what Dragos was insinuating, “You’re trying to have a one-on-one meeting with this bastard? Everyone in this room knows that idea sounds like shit.”

“It’s not an idea, it’s happening in a few hours,” Dragos counters.

“Papa you’re going to have someone tailing you right? You don’t trust him to keep true to his word,” Pietro looks at his father in disbelief.

Dragos’s hand trails through his thick gray hair, “I’ve dealt with Kingpin before. I’ve known him for a long time, and I will be prepared for whatever he has coming.”

“Papa you can’t be serious?” Wanda has features akin to Pietro.

The arguing is about to continue, but then Flora speaks up, “Your father knows what he’s doing kids. Have some faith in him, he’s got a lot of experience for all of you. If he thinks this is the right call, then it has to be. Now, you’re dismissed.”

Suddenly there was no room for arguing with her. You try to keep calm but your feelings on the matter aren’t well hidden as you storm out of the room. Wanda and Pietro leave after you, both with the goal of trying to comfort you. However, their moods weren’t much better than yours.

When it was just the husband and wife in the office Flora let her nerves show. She was unsure about this plan. The lack of support from the group only heightened her anxiety for her husband’s well-being.

“You better prove them wrong Dragos. If anything were to happen to you I-"

The older man is gentle as he reaches for his wife’s hand, in the way he is always gentle with her. He places a kiss to the back of her palm, “Nothing is going to happen to me, moya lybov. I’m going to take car of this business and this family like I always have.”

Dragos wasn’t going to show his nerves. He never did, but to think they didn’t exist would’ve been ignorant. There wasn’t a reality that Dragos saw where the meeting went sideways. It had to go well, or a war would tear across the city. That thought protected him like a bullet proof vest. He was going to protect the industry he worked to build because that was the only option.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff

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heartschampion · 1 month ago

Text

september 30th — ethan landry

PAIRING. ethan landry x fem!reader

SUMMARY. in which you make a bet with your boyfriend, ethan, the night before the start of october. thirty-one days of sex.

CONTENT. no ghostface!au, ethan bailey is canon!!, established relationship, fluff, bantering, a little suggestive, no smut, basically a prologue chapter, no beta, not proofread.

WORD COUNT. 1.9k

previous. masterlist. next.

11:49 PM.

It’s times like this where I find myself thinking — really thinking — deeper into life and its meaning. The closer I look, the more I start to realize how glorified life is. I follow the same routine day-in and day-out. Wake up, get ready, go to class, go home, and get ready for the same thing tomorrow. It’s like the only time I get to have a reprise is in moments late into the night, all snuggled up and ready to sleep. A sliver of freedom in a meticulously bland and boring way of life.

Not to be melodramatic or anything. Ethan often told me I have a knack for that.

The blinding light of my laptop screen hits my retinas with a harsh glare despite having set the brightness to its dimmest setting. Still, beggars can’t be choosers, so I tough it out. I scroll aimlessly through my Tumblr dashboard, skimming past posts until one catches my attention just enough for me to stop and actually read.

‘Mattheo Riddle x Reader, Niccolo Govender x Reader, Jack Ch—’

“Ugh,” a small groan sounds from beside me on the bed. With a quirk of a smile, I glance beside me at my boyfriend, Ethan Bailey, who is laid there in all his glory. He has his arm draped over his eyes, covering them from the light emitting from my laptop. For a split second, I feel bad for disturbing his sleep. Ethan lets out another groan before throwing his arm off to the side, his eyes flickering over to my figure. “Angel, can we please go to bed?”

I sigh as I hear the pleading tone of his voice and shoot him an apologetic look.

“Just a few more minutes, Eth. Promise.”

Ethan simply gives me a blank stare, not believing my words for a second. He rolls over onto his side, now fully facing me with a sulky little pout on his lips. As cute as he is, I can’t fall for his tricks and forget about the task I had assigned myself. Ethan raises his head from the pillow, craning his neck to peek at my screen. Curious, he asks, “What are you doing anyways?”

A soft smile crosses my face at his question, both amused by the innocence behind it and touched by his curiosity. I reach over to pet his messed up curls, a habit that I had developed ever since the two of us moved in together for the new semester. Immediately, Ethan melts into my touch, visibly relaxing at the contact shared between the two of us.

“Just waiting for all the October context to start being posted.”

“Why October specifically?” He asks while furrowing his brows in confusion, completely and blissfully unaware of what I was talking about at all. It was kind of cute that he didn’t know, especially considering Richie of all people ran an active and thriving blog. It was literally the worst kept secret ever. Even Quinn knew. “Something special happening?”

“Mmm, something like that…” I giggle, causing Ethan to raise his furrowed brow at me in question. Unable to keep a straight face at the overly serious expression that he’s giving me, I burst out in laughter, deciding to finally enlighten him to the world of Kinktober. After a few moments, I calm myself down, taking a few deep breaths, letting out some final snickers. On the flip side, Ethan just stares at me blankly, unamused. With a roll of my eyes, I softly scratch at his scalp, confessing the ‘dirty secret’ I had been keeping for so long. “It’s Kinktober. Y’know, when writers just shit out a bunch of written porn?”

“Kink…tober?” Ethan repeats back, his expression contorting into one of confusion. He repeats the word a few more times, looking deep in contemplation while processing the information I had just dumped on him. Without even trying to hide it, I coo at him like an owner would at their pet. Blinking, he deadpans, “So you’re up at midnight just to read porn?”

“Smut.”

“Right. Smut.” He corrects himself, but not without a dramatic show of rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. It’s now my turn to roll my eyes, removing my hand from his hair and flicking his forehead in retaliation. Immediately, Ethan swats my hand away from anywhere near his face and rubs his forehead, grumbling to himself as he gives me a proper stinkeye. In return, I simply give him a cheeky smile and stick out my tongue, albeit a bit childishly.

It doesn’t take much long though until he forgets about the whole ordeal and goes back to the topic at hand. He clicks his tongue, eyes brightening with an idea that I know could be no good and smirks at me. With a lazy drawl, he asks smugly, “Why read about sex when you have me?”

Not expecting that of all things to come out of his mouth, I’m taken by surprise. A snort escapes my lips at the suggestive implication in his words. Placing my laptop beside me, I prop myself up on my elbow and lean down to Ethan, squinting at him. “What’re you trying to say, Bailey?”

Like a predator stalking his prey, he gazes up at me, a tinge of seduction behind those innocent looking brown eyes. He eyes me with temptation, luring me in before he can swallow me whole. His larger hand stalks around my hip, caressing at my skin as he travels across its smooth surface. Suddenly, I’m pulled in, now on top of him and straddling his hips where I can feel him start to harden.

“There’s no way some dumb words could ever be better than…me.”

He’s right and we both know it, but a bigger part of me wants to challenge him on that. Maybe it’s his cockiness in his tone, or the fact that his growing boner is directly pressing against my clothed core as he grinds his hips. Either way, I raise my eyebrow, looking down at him from above. “Really, huh? Big words coming from someone who came within the first three minutes last time.”

At the reminder of the last time we had sex, his eyes widened and his face flushed in embarrassment. “That was an accident!” He vehemently exclaims, defending himself for his early ejaculation.

If I were to be completely honest, I was kind of turned on from how easily he came from just being inside of me, not even fully engulfed. The idea was lewder than the circumstances surrounding it, but the prospect of him almost coming inside of me — Even though we were protected — was as enticing as it was terrifying.

“Besides, you know how good I can make you feel.” Ethan then attempts to wink, his eyelids not cooperating, leading to him blinking instead. Realizing that he messed up his attempt to be smooth, he shakes his head and instead smiles sheepishly.

I giggle at his silliness, brushing aside the curls near his eyes with a level of fondness I once never would have known to exist. He really was perfect for me. Pinching his cheeks, I keep poking at him and his cocky attitude. “You think you can keep up?”

“Babe, I know I can.” He states as confident as ever, a smirk playing on his face. Without another word, he starts to run his hands up my thighs, my skin prickling up at his electric touch. Reaching my hips, he starts to rub circles around my hip dips, fondling my inner thighs. I let out a deep sigh, both relaxing at his intimate touch, and tensing as his boner pokes into me. Unable to help myself, I grind my pulsating core against him, satisfying the need.

“So cute...”

I whine at his words, embarrassed at just how badly I needed him at this moment. He was the one who started it in the first place, yet I was the one here left to look like a mess instead of him. It was unfair. Continuing to grind against him, he suddenly stops his movements. I hiss out, “Eth, you annoying fuck…”

Out of nowhere, he flips the two of us around, the lower half of his body pressed against me as he looks down on me. I’m caged in his arms, each one placed beside me, trapping me as his prisoner. Ethan cocks his head to the side, an innocent look on his face. He speaks in a sickeningly sweet voice, “What’s the matter, angel?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“Do I?” He asks, pretending to think about it.

“Eth!” I hiss, squirming underneath him. He’s so close, the only thing separating us being the clothes we have on. Never have I ever wanted to not have any on more than I do right now. I needed to feel him, all of him. Not just his warmth, but skin against skin to truly prove that he was right there with me.

Ethan lets out a chuckle, grinning at how needy I was being. I bet he really got off on that, huh? Knowing that he was in control, having me wrapped around his finger. Fuck, I needed him in me whether it was his fingers or his dick. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at me like he was reprimanding me. “Thirty-one days, angel. You can wait a few hours.”

Just like that, Ethan shifts off of me and back to his side of the bed with a satisfied smile on his face. The sudden switch from before to now was jarring and it took me a few moments before I completely processed what just happened. I scoff, propping myself up on my elbows and looking over at him.

“Are you serious?” “Super.” The pain in the ass called my boyfriend responds, closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“You’re literally cockblocking yourself!” I sputter out in disbelief. Ethan Bailey, the boy who couldn’t keep his hands off of me. The same boy who literally cried the first time we had sex — I did too. The same boy who was now laying in our bed with a rock-hard boner, yet doing nothing about it when he had the more than eager opportunity to. What a fucking idiot.

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking over his words carefully. “I can handle it.”

I let out an overdramatic huff as I collapsed onto the bed. Looking over, I peer at Ethan’s ‘sleeping’ face. A few moments passed of me just staring at him with a blank expression before he opened one eye and looked at me with a questioning expression. “Can’t sleep, love?”

“Don’t even.” I warned, glaring at him and his feigned nonchalance.

He chuckles, and I can feel him shift in the bed. Soon, arms wrap around me and pull me into a tight embrace. My face is gently placed against Ethan’s nape where I often laid on nights like this. Without a word, I wrap my arms and legs around him like a koala with a tree, seeking any contact with him. I bury my face into his nape, taking in his cinnamon scent.

“Sorry.” Despite his words, Ethan lets out another chuckle, the vibrations of it throughout his body a soothing feeling against my tense body.

I grumble, “You’re not sorry.”

He huffs in amusement at my sulkiness, petting my hair. Pecks and kisses litter my face in a frenzy as a way of him trying to make me feel better. To his credit, it does work despite my attempts to not let it. How could I ever resist his kisses? Peering down at me, Ethan smiles softly before kissing my lips. Cinnamon chapstick and lemonade citrus.

“Happy…uh…Kinktober, angel.”

#( hearts fics ★ )#( we fell in love in october )#scream #scream vi #scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #kinktober

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writersdrug · 1 year ago

Text

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 7)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: It's time for your first mission working with Kortac. You're stuck reminiscing on the past, accidentally drawing similarities between it and the present. Additionally, you see a new side of Konig.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex, cursing, gore, blood, violence, bad attempts at using military terms (listen I tried to do my best researching this but obviously I ain't in the army)

Notes: Hey! Procrastination is a thing... and it had me in a chokehold these last few weeks. But - and I know I say this often - hopefully I'll get something else posted either tonight or tomorrow. Thanks for your patience and your kind comments - I love hearing them!

Ghost dragged me by the hand through the airplane hanger, making me stumble to keep up with him. He walked with purpose in his step, his eyes focused on his own thoughts. I bit my lip as I jogged behind him, excitement bubbling in my veins. He had sent me the usual “you up?” text – now, we were running around, trying to find a secluded but dangerously public place to satisfy our urges; something that was beginning to become a weekly occurrence.

He stopped in front of the ramp to the C-130 – one of the largest airplanes on base, used for carrying soldiers before they were airdropped. I looked at him with a confused expression.

Ghost was already looking at me, waiting for my reaction. He tilted his head towards the plane suggestively, gripping my hand tighter.

I suddenly understood what he was hinting at. “On a plane?!” I said with disbelief. “It’s not even in the air, what’s the point?”

Ghost huffed. “You said you wanted something other than my bed.” He replied with an accusatory tone. “What did you expect, your bed?”

I grimaced. Imagining Soap in the room across the hall, listening to me and Simon – and most likely getting off to it – it was the last thing I wanted to happen. “No… but an airplane?”

“Just trust me, ok?” Ghost tugged my hand, leading me onto the aircraft. “Bloody picky, you are.”

“I’m not picky, I just have common sense…” I muttered. Ghost ignored me.

I scowled as he dragged me further into the cargo hold. We moved towards the back, which was rather cramped, even though it was empty. Ghost sat down on one of the seats, close to the cockpit, and spread his legs. The space was small and awkward, and only allowed his left knee to move a few inches. He grumbled, getting up and moving down a seat, where he finally spread his legs apart. He finished the display with a smirk behind his mask, leaning back into the seat.

I watched the entire thing with my arms folded over my chest. “This is ridiculous…” I muttered, turning back towards the ramp.

“Why?” Ghost asked, slightly offended. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to face him.

I gestured to him, huffing out a laugh. “Just - this! There isn’t enough room for the both of us, the door’s wide open, so someone could just walk in and – “

“They’re not going to see us, Bonnie.” Ghost pulled me by the backs of my thighs and down onto his lap. I grabbed his shoulders as I felt myself sliding off of him, and he gripped my hips to hold me in place. “Relax, love.” He drawled.

For a moment, my heart stuttered. It was the first time he had called me something so endearing… although it was probably force of habit. I stilled my heart – it was never good when it got too involved in anything.

“If we do get caught-“

“I’ll pull rank.” Ghost stated matter-of-factly. He sat on the edge of the seat, allowing me to shuffle closer to his torso. He held my hips down as he slowly pushed his own into me, sending arousal shooting through my abdomen and making me gasp at the feeling. He pushed his balaclava above the bridge of his nose, then pulled me down by the nape of my neck and captured my lips in a kiss.

I moaned into the kiss in satisfaction; his hands on my hips and the taste of him – cigarettes and the whiskey he’d downed earlier that night – felt like a reward after the long day. I ground my hips against his crotch, feeling his hard length straining through the fabric of his cargo pants. He let out a low, guttural groan, running his hand further up my back. In a second, I raised my arms over my head, and he pulled my shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the aircraft.

He looked at me for a moment, kneading the flesh at my hips as his eyes danced over my skin. “You changed your mind rather quickly.” He said with a cocky grin.

“Shut up…” I replied.

Ghost quickly smacked the side of my ass, making me yelp in surprise. He then grabbed my chin, not roughly, but enough to capture my attention. I stared at him with wide eyes.

“Care to try that again?” he asked in a cautioning tone.

“’M sorry!” I said quickly through smushed cheeks.

“’Sorry’ what?”

“’M sorry, sir.”

“Atta girl…” he drawled in a deep voice, before releasing my chin. I couldn’t stop the needy whine that came from my throat. I started grinding my hips on his crotch again, urging Ghost to continue.

He chuckled. “Pretty little slut – do you need me?” he asked, and I immediately nodded. “Use your words, love. Tell me what you want.”

I felt myself clenching around nothing at his deep, gravelly voice. “I- I want you inside me, Ghost.” I admitted quietly.

Ghost clicked his tongue. “Didn’t catch that, doll. Speak up for me.”

I fought a scowl rising in my throat. “I want you to fuck me.” I stated firmly. Normally, I wouldn’t stand for being humiliated like this – except I wasn’t standing. I was straddling Ghost’s lap, grinding on him like a bitch in heat, and following his every order like my life depended on it. And, honestly… I wouldn’t have had it any other way. And I would never fold like this, or let myself be bossed around, for any other man – not in a million years.

Ghost laughed. “Well, before we get that far…” he began unbuttoning my pants, igniting the fire in my lower abdomen. I bit my lip impatiently, watching his hands take their sweet fucking time as they worked down the zipper.

“… I need to get you ready f’me, yeah?” Ghost said teasingly. In the next moment, he pulled down the waistband of my underwear and slid two fingers past my clit.

I sucked in a short breath between my teeth, digging my nails into Ghost’s shoulders as he flicked his fingers over my clit. There was no rhyme or reason to the rhythm, making each flick send jolts of pleasure from my cunt and into my chest.

“Goddamn, there you go…” Ghost cooed as he watched my face contort from the pleasure.

“Bonnie?”

I started bucking my hips as Ghost traced along my lips, groaning as he watched me unravel myself above him. I could tell he was getting off from my obedience – the way I threw my stubbornness to the wind whenever he had control of me was like a drug to him.

“Hey, Bonnie-“

“Look at you.” He commented. I opened my eyes when I heard him unbuckling his belt. I looked down at him – I could see his pupils had dilated, and he was now panting in desire. Even he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fucking finally…” I whispered.

“Quiet.” He ordered as he pushed his pants down his legs. He pulled out his-

“Bonnie!”

My eyes widened as I was snapped back to the present. I had been staring – glass-eyed and pupils blown wide – at the exact same seat Ghost and I had sat in earlier. Except, I wasn’t on that same plane. I was on Kortac’s C-130 as it flew us out to the mission point.

I looked to my left – Konig was bent over, hands on his knees, staring at me with a confused expression.

“You alright?” he asked. “Is the mini-you in your head bothering you?”

I scoffed. He hasn’t let me live that down ever since I mentioned it. “I’m fine, Colonel. Just tired.”

He straightened up, towering above me at his usual, freakish height. “Well wake up. We’re almost there. Let’s see if you’re as good as Ridgeback says you are.” He then walked away, pulling out his tablet and fiddling with it. It looked comically small in his hands.

Roze shifted in the seat next to me. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s always bossy right before we rendezvous. Gets him in the game, I think.” She tightened her tactical vest around her waist.

“I’d hate to see him on a bad day…” I mutter in her direction.

“You and me both. Imagine a bear, with a gun, on- I don’t know, cocaine or something…” She replied, earning a chuckle from me.

I looked back at Konig. He sat down in the same seat I was staring at moments before. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall and spreading his legs wide. He placed his hands on his thighs. He breathed deeply, like he was trying to calm his nerves. I dragged my eyes over his form – he was huge – I never really paid attention to just how large he really was. He was lean, slightly on the more muscular side, but he had to be pushing… six-eight? Six-nine? I looked at the girth of his thighs. I imagined what it would feel like to straddle his lap… Would it be comfortable? I thought about how Ghost and I had sat in that seat… Except I imagined Konig in Ghost’s position, his large hand on the small of my back, his torso against mine, his fingers in my-

Fuck. I was getting in over my head. I had to stop.

Konig looked at me, his head still leaning against the wall, locking his eyes with mine.

FUCK. I turned my head away quickly – too quickly. I can’t do this. I can’t let this happen again. I pointed my head down at my feet, pretending the floor was more interesting than Konig.

Don’t do this. Don’t do this, y/n. Remember how bad it ended last time? Why you ended up working for Kortac in the first place? You don’t want that again. Just focus on the mission. Focus on your job.

When I looked back at Konig, he was looking at the ceiling. I thought, if I concentrated enough, that I could see his brow furrowed under his mask. His hands were still on his thigs, but they were now tense, gripping at his thick muscles through his pants. His fingers were long, rough, and sturdy, his nails were short… I couldn’t help but drift back to the image of them plunged into my-

Konig’s eyes darted towards mine.

I huffed and looked away again, at the opposite end of the plane. Fucking get it together… I felt my face flushing – as long as I didn’t look in his direction, he wouldn’t see it… right?

I sighed. I need to be spayed…

-----

“Briefing hostages. Stand-by ‘til further notice.” Roze’s voice echoed over the comms. She, Juno, Oni, and Zero had made it to the hostages. Castillo had helped get them there smoothly, and now it was up to Konig, Horangi, O’Connor, Fender, and I to finish taking out the check points. Majka, Ridgeback’s second-in-command and our current operator, had cut comms for the enemy. Konig and Horangi had already started clearing their checkpoints – there wasn’t much coming from their end of the comms, so I assumed they were managing fine.

I made it to the top of the tower I was in, hiding behind the wall outside of the checkpoint I needed to clear. The entire location of the rendezvous was run down – possibly an old, abandoned power plant. The buildings were in a deteriorating state, making it slightly harder to work my way closer to the enemy soldiers in the room. But I was good at being quiet, so I managed.

I carefully peered around the edge of the doorway – the hallway outside of the room was dark enough to conceal me from the soldiers. Two were positioned outside of another wing in the room; one was facing forwards, staring at the room in front of him and guarding the door at his side. The other was looking out the window, completely ignoring the room he was supposed to be guarding. Inside the room appeared to be three more soldiers, two of them sitting at a computer and bitching about the comms being broken, and the third tweaking his sniper foxhole.

They’re a mess… I thought to myself. I smirked, knowing this would be an easy take-down.

“Bonnie to Majka. I’m engaging.” I said into my comms.

A few moments of silence before he responded. “Clear, sergeant. Give ‘em hell.”

“Copy.”

I took a few deep, quick breaths, flooding the oxygen into my blood and keeping the adrenaline at bay. I jumped around the corner and sank a knife into a soldier’s neck. He gurgled and dropped his gun. Another soldier turned at the commotion – I ripped the same knife from the first body and threw it. Rather than shank him, the edge sliced across his jugular. He barely had enough time to lift his gun before he collapsed, grabbing his throat. I grabbed his body as it fell, quietly guiding it to the floor. I picked up my knife and sank to my heels, pressing myself against the wall. The doorway to the next room was to my left. I exhaled silently. In a swift moment, I snatched one of the fallen soldier’s gun and shouldered it. Never hurts to have another one.

I heard the guards in the other room, alerted by the sounds of the struggle. One of them rounded the corner – I hid in the shadow, waiting until he had fully stepped beyond the other room. I used my knife to slash across each of his Achilles tendons, easily cutting past the material of his boot. He fell with a loud cry – I quickly used the butt of my gun by bashing it against his head, knocking him out in two hits.

I saw one of the remaining two guards in the room through the doorway. I quickly threw my knife at him and lodged it in his neck, but not before he managed to pull the trigger on his gun. He fired a few shots as he went down, gun pointed at the ceiling and ricocheting off of the concrete. Before the last soldier could react, I quickly turned into the doorway, shooting him dead in the face with my gun. He flopped against the back of the wall, body twitching for a moment, before he went still.

I turned back around, looking at the third soldier, lying on the ground. I fired one last shot into his head, ensuring he was dead.

I exhaled heavily. Not my smoothest work, but still timely.

I stood in place, assessing the damage around me. The strong scent of iron began to overtake the room, blood seeping from each body. I pulled my knife out of the fourth soldier’s neck, wiping the blood off against his sleeve and sheathing it. I sighed and began scavenging through the bodies for anything useful.

“Bonnie, how copy?” Majka’s thick accent filtered through the comm.

“Checkpoint two cleared.” I responded. I ripped out the magazine from a gun identical to the one I stole, shoving it into my vest. “Upgrading my inventory a bit.”

“You just got started!” he said, a bit frustrated and shocked.

I gave the room a last glance. “And? I just got finished. What’s my next move?”

There was a brief pause. “O’Connor, how copy?”

The click of O’Connor’s comm came on, followed by the sounds of struggling and muffled punches and hits. “Fender and I are still occupied!” he grunted.

“Roze, position status.”

“Package secured, hostages briefed.” Roze’s voice was hushed.“Ready to move, and enemies inbound towards us.”

“Castillo, how copy?”

“One klick out, ready in FFP. Waiting for target.” Castillo responded.

“O’Connor?!”

“Busy!!” O’Connor said, irritated; the faint sounds of gunshots firing echoed in the background.

“Majka, this is Bonnie:” I said quickly among the commotion. “Sir, I’m in range to follow the package from here. I can clear the path with Castillo, I’ve got eyes up to the objective rally point.”

I heard a disgruntled sigh on the other end of the channel. “You don’t have your sniper rifle, Bonnie.” He said.

“My checkpoint had a foxhole. I’m set up with one.” I looked around me; the walls separating me from the outside weren’t that thick, but they would be enough to hide me. “I’ve got decent cover, too.”

“For fucks sake…” Majka sighed into the comm. “Then get on it.”

Immediately, I kneeled beside the sniper rifle the one soldier had been adjusting. I tweaked its position, changing its trajectory until I was satisfied. I unshouldered both of my guns, before sitting in front of the rifle and getting comfortable. I angled it until I saw the building where the hostiles were being kept in my scope.

“I’m in FFP.” I relayed over my comms. “Ready on your command, Majka.”

“Copy.” Majka replied. “Roze, you’re clear to move.”

I watched closely through my scope as Roze exited the building, followed by the hostages and the rest of the team. She led the group, Juno and Zero covering the sides, and Oni covering their six.

“Bonnie, Castillo, talk to me.” She said quietly.

“I eliminated three hostiles on your path, clear to move forward.” Castillo’s voice echoed.

I focused on the area to Roze’s nine ‘o clock. Three enemy soldiers were slowly making their way towards her – I quickly fired at them, taking two of them down with a single bullet as they were lined up perfectly. The third one ducked down, frantically scanning around to find where the bullet had come from. I aimed my crosshair at him and pulled the trigger at him – he dropped to the ground within the same second.

“Three more eliminated. Your nine is clear.” I said to Roze.

“Copy.” She replied.

I continued to scan ahead of their path with my scope. A few times, Juno and Oni fired to the right of the group, followed by a few shots from Castillo. I knocked out two more targets on their left. The rest of the path went smoothly, and they made it to the exfil point. I scanned what parts of the area I could see from my window, searching for any rogue soldiers that might be left. O’Connor and Fender had finished clearing their checkpoint by then. After a few more minutes of that, and the “ok” from Majka to pack up, it was clear that there wasn’t anyone left on the field besides the Kortac team members.

“Well, that was sloppy on their part.” I commented.

“Ridgeback said it would be.” Majka replied. “Said the hostiles were a big enough gang that ended up with powerful weapons, and just wanted some cash. Kidnapped an easy bunch of relatives of a government official. Probably thought they had a chance.”

I chuckled. “So the payout won’t be great, I’m assuming?” I shouldered my guns, grabbing the sniper rifle and exiting the room.

“Don’t be so sure about that…” Juno piped into the conversation, shouting over the sound of the helicopter blades. “Europeans officials are loaded. Plus, they typically pay a lot to save their reputation.”

“You mean their families?”

“Potato, potahto.” Juno replied.

The rest of us reconnected at the exfil point. As with most of the teams I had gone on missions with, I was the cleanest out of everyone. O’Connor and Fender looked tired and worn, blood splattering their uniforms, dropping their guns with their bags and collapsing onto the seats of the aircraft. Horangi, cleaner than some, seemed to be riding off of an adrenaline high, clapping everyone on their backs and declaring a mission well done – despite that it had been a rather easy one.

I dropped myself onto a seat and looked at my hands, only painted with a few smears of blood. I then leaned my head back against the wall. I thought of what I could have done better. I could have caught the one soldier sooner before he hit the ground – that would’ve kept the others from being alerted. I could have been quicker shooting the last one. Cutting the guys heels… that was flashy. Unnecessary. Same for throwing my knife the second time. I could have just shot the last two. Would have made things quicker.

Suddenly, I heard heavy bootsteps climbing the ramp to the plane. I casually opened one of my eyes, then the other, staring in shock.

Konig dragged himself up the ramp. He was covered in bloodstains, across his vest, his mask, his pants – he held his gun, the end of it spattered in blood. His knuckles were tight under his gloves as he clutched the barrel of the gun in one hand, the other hanging by his side. His shoulders were tense, heaving up and down with each, heavy breath, and his body language was laced with venom.

His eyes were the worst part; they peered through his mask, wide and blood-shot. They were dripping with a post-massacre adrenaline. They stared directly ahead as he appeared to calm himself. He looked like a wild animal that had just killed its prey – for fun.

He ripped out his mags and tossed his gun into the pile, taking a seat directly across from me and grabbing his tablet. He began aggressively punching the buttons on it, his eyes still sinister and cold. He muttered under his breath in German, his voice low and gravelly.

I shivered slightly, before looking away from him and back at the ceiling. Is this what Roze was talking about? I thought.

---

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix

Let me know if you'd like to be added!! ^^^

#konig x reader #konig x reader smut #konig cod #konig smut #call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost cod #cod #konig #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader

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hbyrde36 · 2 months ago

Text

Caught in the Undertow

Chapter Four

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch3 <-

WC: 5778 | R: Explicit | TW: Suicidal ideation, depression | Ch 4/10 | AO3

Eddie laid on the bed, motionless, staring at the wall, listening to the sound of Steve’s footsteps retreating back down the stairs, and felt hollow.

Wrung out.

Like a spectator in his own body, everything was just a little…unreal.

It had all seemed at the time like it was happening to someone else, as if he were watching the night unfold from a distance. Like witnessing a trainwreck. No control of the outcome, and yet he could not look away.

The whiskey had been a mistake, that much was obvious.

But he’d been struggling to keep his happy face on, and Dustin had been watching him a little too closely, and that kid was too goddamn smart for his own good. He was going to catch on eventually unless Eddie did something about it. And then there was Steve—

Steve, who he’d managed to avoid in the chaos of his arrival, who’d posted himself up in the corner and kept his eyes on Eddie like a hawk. Like he knew. Like he could see right through the careful facade Eddie had painstakingly built just for the occasion.

And then again, in the kitchen. Steve couldn’t just let him be, no. Couldn't let Eddie indulge in the one thing that made his continued existence on this planet bearable. He had to poke and prod and worry and fuss—and act like he cared.

Steve… who threatened to break his own bathroom door down to get to him. All because Eddie had been clumsy with a switchblade.

Because he’d been shaking with the force of his own sobs, drunk enough to see double, and when he finally worked up the courage to press that blade into his skin—missed and fumbled, and dropped it to the tile floor.

And Steve—

Steve had known. Whether the sound had been that obvious or he’d put the pieces together because of what Eddie had shouted in the kitchen, it didn’t matter.

And Eddie had let him in.

He still wasn’t sure why he’d done it, or frankly how, his vision so blurred with tears he’d had to find the lock by feel with his fingertips to flip it.

He��d never let anyone see him like that—like this. Hiding the worst of himself even from Wayne, but he wouldn't be able to hide anymore. Too many people had seen his mask slip, had heard what he said, the poisonous truth that lived in his bones, concealed beneath the clothes and the hair, the wide grins, loud mouth, and lunchtime diatribes.

There was a tentative knock on the doorframe behind him.

“Ed?”

Wayne.

Eddie's stomach dropped.

He heard the old man breathe deep, and take a few shuffling steps over the carpeted floor before the bed dipped under his weight. Eddie turned over, eyes sliding up to look at his uncle sitting above him, taking in the familiar sight of his face, the wisps of gray and white hair along his jaw—growing whiter by the year—and the less familiar sight of that strong jaw trembling as he looked down at Eddie in turn.

“I…” Wayne hesitated, as if thinking over his words. “Steve called me.”

Eddie didn’t know Steve even had their phone number, but somehow he wasn’t surprised. Would the other boy ever stop trying to save him?

“Son, I gotta be honest, ‘m scared out of my mind right now. I knew you were struggling with what happened t’ you, but I had no idea…”

Eddie wanted so badly to be able to say something, anything. To fake it, to make an excuse, a joke, to take it all back and tell Wayne he was okay—that he was sorry. But he was stuck so far inside his own head that all he could do was let the waves of guilt wash over him, and the tears start flowing again.

Wayne reached out to smooth the hair back from his face, his cool hand soothing against Eddie’s warm and sweaty forehead. He melted into the touch, letting his eyes slip shut.

It was a while before Wayne spoke again.

“I’m starting back at work tomorrow night, and there’s no way around it. Steve’s offered to have you stay here with him for a while so you won’t have to be alone so much.”

At that, Eddie’s eyes snapped back open and he finally found his voice, though it was weak. “I don’t need a babysitter, I'm not a child.”

Wayne sighed. “No, legally you’re an adult and you can do whatever you want. Even if you weren't, I know you well enough to be sure I can’t force you to do anything, but I am asking—Ed, I’m begging you to stay here and let Steve look after you. I told you back in the hospital, you need people around you that get it. People who know what you’ve been through, and—”

Wayne paused to glance back over his shoulder at the empty hall for a second, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I think that boy might need you every bit as much as you need him.”

Eddie scoffed.

Right. As if Mr. Golden Boy, Savior Of The Universe needed anyone’s help, let alone Eddie’s.

“Just give him a chance. Talk to him, or pick someone else if you want, but you have to start talking to someone.” Wayne rose from the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, something Eddie couldn’t remember the man doing since he was little, before moving away. He stopped in the doorway to look back, an overstuffed duffle bag sitting against the bedroom wall near his feet.

“I just got you back. Please don’t… don’t make me bury you, son. It ain't right for a parent to bury their child.”

Eddie was still staring out the open door, long after Wayne had left, when Steve stepped past his line of sight and into the room, set a glass of water down on the nightstand and quickly backed away wringing his hands. He looked exhausted, hair messy and a little flat as though he’d been running his hands through it a lot, and dressed in a pair of old basketball shorts and a faded t-shirt.

“I’m gonna go to bed, but I'm right across from you if you need anything,” Steve said, swiveling to point behind him. “And there’s a… a bathroom up here at the end of the hall.”

Eddie kicked his shoes off and sat up, pushing himself up against the headboard, letting his head rest against it. He stared up at the ceiling, tracking the slow movement of the fan blades as they spun lazily, anything to avoid looking into the other boy’s earnest face. “I’ll stay here for now if that’s what my uncle wants, but that doesn't mean I have to like it, and it doesn’t mean we’re friends now either—got it?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, and cleared his throat roughly. “Yeah, Eddie, I got it.”

“What do you get out of all this, anyway?” Eddie asked, his attention still carefully aimed anywhere else. “Need another merit badge to fill out your sash?”

Steve didn’t reply, only reached over to switch the room’s light off, murmuring a quiet, “good night,” as he left, and pulled the door closed behind him.

For three days Eddie holed up in that room.

Steve left him alone for the most part. Never knocked, never tried to bother or talk to him, simply left food and water outside his door at regular intervals like he was an inmate—though Eddie was well aware he was the one who locked himself up, and not the other way around.

They only crossed paths once, when he snuck to the bathroom just as Steve was coming out of it. Steve looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Eddie had actually felt a little bad about that.

He spent the first day in a daze, not doing much of anything but stare at the four beige walls that surrounded him, unable to think of much of anything except the pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his rib.

The following days were better and worse at the same time.

It’d been over a month since the bats, since he’d been dragged back from the brink of death. Over a month of darkness, feeling as low as he’d ever felt, and little by little the fog was starting to lift. He could feel a change happening within himself, and he didn’t know if he was ready to welcome it or not.

He ate and drank whatever Steve left for him.

He took a shower.

Sorely needed after sweating out all the booze, and marinating in it for twenty four hours in his jeans. He’d never seen so many fluffy white towels in his life, and the water pressure truly was something else.

He listened to music again.

Something he hadn’t wanted to do, hadn’t been able to do since he woke up in the hospital. In the bag Wayne brought had been, not only his comfiest clothes, but his walkman, several of his favorite tapes, and the pièce de résistance: his well worn copy of The Hobbit.

He curled up in bed with the familiar comfort of it all and felt… better.

Not good, not great, but better—clearer—more solidly in his own mind and body.

For three nights Eddie listened from across the hall while Steve cried out in his sleep.

Two am, each night, without fail.

Nightmares.

The first night it was easy enough to ignore. Eddie was still stuck in his own head, still stewing. He was startled, yes, but the shouts were short lived, stopping when Steve must have woken himself up. He assumed this was normal for the other boy, no big deal, par for the course after so many years of fighting monsters.

At least that’s what he told himself.

But as the nights wore on it was harder to ignore. The screams would start and Eddie would leap out of bed, stomach in knots, pulse racing as he paced the floor of his room, chewing his fingernails down to stubs until it stopped.

Something changed on the fourth night.

Eddie still wasn’t sleeping much, so he was wide awake when Steve’s nightmare began, but this time, mixed in with the wordless shouts he was used to hearing, was the sound of Steve calling out his name.

Eddie was out of bed and in the hall before realizing he’d even moved, standing right outside Steve's door with his fist raised to knock. He froze mid-motion as the screaming suddenly stopped, and pressed his ear to the wood.

There was a muffled gasp, quiet weeping, more soft utterances of his name.

All at once, any residual anger Eddie had been holding on to, all the blame he’d been placing on Steve’s shoulders, vanished. His heart ached for the guy. Steve clearly had enough of his own problems, slept like shit, and yet still tried to help him, no matter how horrible Eddie treated him in return.

The loud creak of bed springs made Eddie backpedal suddenly, scrambling back into his own room as silently as he could before he got caught lurking in the hall like a creep.

He held his breath, resting his head against the moulding as he listened closely.

Light footsteps crossed the hall, and approached his own door, pausing for a long moment just outside of it. He heard Steve sigh, could almost feel the other boy’s warm breath ghosting over his face even though they were separated by several inches of hollow wood. After another beat Steve walked away without knocking, just as Eddie had done.

Eddie’s shoulder’s sagged as he finally let his breath out, stumbling over to the bed where he sat, resting his head in his hands. The further he managed to crawl out of the black hole he’d been stuck in, the more he could see that he was the only asshole here. Steve was a good guy, who’d done nothing wrong.

And now he had to fix it.

Fuck.

“He hasn’t left that room, Robin. It’s been days, how long am I supposed to wait for him to come around before I start freaking out?” Steve sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, whisper-shouting into the receiver.

“You’re telling me you're not freaking out now?”

Steve groaned. “Not helping.”

“Sorry,” she said, actually sounding it for once. “He still taking the food and stuff you leave out?”

“Yeah… and we sort-of passed each other in the hall as I was coming out of the upstairs bathroom. He looked… better, I think.”

“Did he say anything?”

Steve pulled the cord as long as it would go, and laid down on the floor, starfishing. “No.”

“He’s probably just embarrassed about getting so drunk the other night. That was a pretty ugly scene.”

“Yeah.”

Robin didn’t know the half of how ugly it had gotten.

He’d called her that night after Wayne left, fully intent on spilling his guts about the state he’d found Eddie in, but when she picked up he couldn’t do it. It felt wrong to share something so… sensitive without Eddie’s permission, to broadcast his worst moment—god Steve hoped that was the worst it got—when he already felt bad enough about intruding himself, though he was glad he did.

He only told her that Eddie would be staying with him for a while. That Wayne was going back to work and worried about leaving Eddie alone all the time. Plus, so many people knew they lived in the trailer park, people who still thought Eddie was guilty, and he worried what folks might do without anyone else around as a witness.

“You know, we never really talked about it,” Robin said, hesitantly.

“About what?”

“Why you couldn’t let him go. Why you fought so hard to save him that night even when it seemed hopeless.”

“He’s one of us, I would have done the same for anyone.” Steve kicked his leg out, tapping his toe nervously along the baseboard. “He got thrown into this thing in the worst way, with no warning, and he was so brave. Dustin is alive because of him.”

“I know, babe. I get that, and believe me, I’m glad you were able to save him. But what about after? You spent as much time in that hospital as Wayne did, even after he refused to see any of us. And now this?”

“I just want to help him. That’s all.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know, but… not right now, okay?”

Steve knew what she wanted him to say, but it wasn’t something he’d even allowed himself to look too closely at yet, let alone speak aloud.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to think about why during the week from hell, no matter what else was going on around them, his eyes always searched Eddie out. Why whenever Eddie spoke Steve found his gaze drawn to his mouth, the perfect pout of his lips.

Now wasn’t the time to examine the fact that every day Eddie was in that hospital, Steve had felt like he couldn't breathe until he spoke to Wayne and got confirmation that he was still alive. Or what it meant that no matter how hard he tried not to, his every thought was consumed with the boy upstairs.

It was rare for Steve to get a full night’s sleep.

Since ‘83 he’d been plagued by nightmares of flower petal mouths with far too many teeth, Russian soldiers in lab coats, and giant flesh monsters.

He was mostly inured to it by now, but coupled with worrying over Eddie and his fear that he’d fail in his promise to Wayne to keep his nephew safe, he was even more exhausted than usual.

Steve was running. Legs pumping, arms swinging, running-for-your-life, running. But it wasn't his own life he was in a race against the clock for. He didn’t know why he was so sure something had gone wrong, but his gut was telling him he had to get back to the trailer, his pounding heart screaming at him that he had to make it in time. He had to. In the distance, he finally saw it. A giant swarm of those fucking bats, swirling above a lone figure on the ground like a dark, gruesome tornado. The figure screamed—Eddie screamed, a blood curdling sound that shot through Steve's heart like a lance, splitting it in two. Steve doubled his efforts, forcing his body beyond its limit, but no matter how hard he pushed it was like he was moving in slow motion. By the time he was close enough to do anything to help, the bats had long since taken Eddie to the ground—his arms and legs wrapped up in a few of their tails, pinned down to the dirt as the rest of them ravaged his body. Steve screamed the other boy’s name, still a few steps away but hoping to draw the attention of the bats away from Eddie and onto himself, but it was no use. Somewhere in the back of Steve’s mind he knew this was wrong. He hadn’t witnessed the attack. The bats had been dead, their limp bodies littering the area when he’d arrived at Dustin’s side where he was crying over Eddie. This was a dream. A nightmare. His least favorite one, and realizing that it was in fact a dream did nothing to lessen the horror of what he was witnessing. The very real pain he was feeling as he watched someone he cared about die. Because in this version of events, the only one worse than the reality they’d lived through, there was no amount of CPR that could bring Eddie back to him. “Eddie, oh god. Eddie, no. Eddie!” Steve fell to his knees, took in the body below that was covered in more blood than could possibly be contained in a single human being, looked down into Eddie Munson’s lifeless eyes pointed skyward, and knew that he was gone.

Steve woke with a gasp, tears still wet on his cheeks as he rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow to stifle the cries of Eddie’s name that still fell from his lips.

His head ached, and his body shivered. He was freezing, coated in a layer of cold sweat.

He threw the covers off and practically jumped out of bed, knowing full well he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight, never did after he dreamed of Eddie.

He changed his clothes, quickly peeling the wet ones off and replacing them with warm flannel pajama pants and his favorite sweatshirt. It had a comforting weight, and was overly soft from too many washings.

Venturing out into the hall he kept his steps light, stopping for a minute just outside the guest room door. He wondered if Eddie was awake in there. If Eddie heard him carrying on. If he cared.

What he wouldn’t give right now to see Eddie’s face. Just for a second. To watch the rise and fall of his chest and know he was breathing. He raised his hand to knock but quickly thought better of it. Eddie already hated him. If he was asleep, surely a middle of the night wake up call wouldn’t improve things on that front.

The sun was up.

Birds chirped cheerfully as they flew past the windows.

And Steve had been sitting on the couch staring at the TV screen with the sound turned all the way down for fucking hours, and he was starting to get a little pissed off.

It didn’t help that there was a throbbing behind his eyes that all but promised a migraine.

As usual, and worse because of the nightmare, he couldn't stop thinking about Eddie. Dissecting, over and over, every moment he’d spent in the other boy’s presence since the boathouse, and honestly it was all so confusing and frustrating.

Steve shut the tv off and threw the remote down on the coffee table, hard.

And was Eddie really going to hide out in that room forever?

Or did he just need more time?

Fuck it.

Steve pushed himself to his feet and stormed up the stairs.

Eddie’d had plenty of time, and all he’d done with it was push everyone further and further away. Maybe it was time to try something else.

Breathing heavily, as though he’d run a mile, and with the throbbing in his head still pounding along to the beat of his heart, Steve rapped his knuckles against the guest room door, tapping his foot impatiently on the carpet as he waited to see if the other boy would respond.

Surprisingly, the door swung open only a few seconds later, revealing a sleep rumpled Eddie, wild hair a tangled mess, piled on top of his head, rubbing his eyes as he attempted to stifle a yawn.

“Steve?”

It threw Steve off balance. He’d sort-of expected it to be a fight to even get Eddie to open the door, but maybe in his half-asleep state he’d had a lapse in judgment?

Whatever the case, he took advantage of it and barged right in, pushing past Eddie to pace the floor near the bed. The room wasn’t a mess, but it certainly looked more lived in than Steve had ever seen it, and the sight of Eddie’s things strewn around made his stomach flip and something warm want to settle in his chest.

Focus.

Eddie stood nervously off to the side, watching Steve’s progress back and forth with wide eyes.

“I know you’re going through something awful right now,” Steve began, finally coming to a stop in front of the other boy and squaring his shoulders. “But it’s not okay for you to close yourself off from everyone who cares about you.”

Eddie held a hand up. “Steve, wait. I need to—”

“No. I'm not done,” Steve cut him off. “Do you think you’re the only person in the world who gets depressed? The only one who’s thought about ending it? Sometimes the only reason I can find to get myself out of bed in the morning is that the shit might hit the fan again. But that’s not—”

The dim light of the room suddenly felt blindingly bright. Steve sucked in a breath, wincing in pain as a high pitched ringing sound began in his ears. He raised a hand to his head like he could hold it off, and tried to speak again. “You can’t—”

A new spike of pain brought on a wave of nausea. Steve’s vision swam, and he lurched forward, losing his balance. He braced for a fall but found strong arms wrapping themselves around his waist, a warm chest pressed against his own for a moment as Eddie held him upright, before guiding him down onto the bed.

“Woah there, big boy. Let's sit you down before you hurt yourself.”

No matter that they had more important things going on right now, or how much pain he was in, it was still an effort to ignore the flutter he felt at hearing Eddie call him that again.

Steve took a deep breath, digging his feet into the carpet to try and ground himself. All he wanted was to curl up into a ball until this stupid headache went away, but he needed Eddie to hear him.

He opened his mouth, but lost whatever he was about to say as Eddie took a seat next to him, eyes full of concern, and began rubbing circles into his back.

“Just relax for a minute,” Eddie murmured.

“But—” he started to argue but Eddie gently shushed him.

“I get it, okay? I’ve been a real dick, and you wanted to come in here and tell me off. As you should. But… listen, man. I owe you an apology. More than an apology, and I know it doesn’t exactly make sense but I've been so fucking mad at you this whole time. I know it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that, and I'm—I'm sorry.”

“Why?.”

“Why am I sorry?” Eddie asked.

“Why were you mad?”

“You know why,” Eddie sighed. “You heard… and saw.”

Steve bit his lip. “I just want to understand.”

Eddie looked away, taking his arm back from Steve to hug himself. “Please don’t make me say it again,” he whispered.

Another flash of pain like lightning inside his skull had Steve doubling over, hissing, and Eddie's hands were back on him in an instant.

“S–s–sorry,” Steve forced out. “I get these really bad…”

“Migraines?” Eddie guessed.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

“Shouldn’t you be lying down then?”

“But, no,” Steve groaned. “You’re finally talking to me.”

“Steve—” Eddie sighed.

He sounded so sad. Steve wished it didn’t feel like his head was splitting apart so he could tell him how much he hated it. How he would do anything to help Eddie feel better if he’d only let him.

“—If you let me help you to your room right now, I promise I’ll still be talking to you later when you feel better. Deal?”

Steve tried to nod, and immediately regretted it, wincing. “Deal.”

In no time Eddie had him tucked into bed with all the lights off, and went downstairs to hunt for painkillers and a glass of water.

Steve was lying on his side, eyes scrunched up tight, just trying to breathe through it all when he heard Eddie tiptoe back into the room. There was a soft pop, and the rattle of pills being shaken out of a bottle.

“Can you sit up?”

Steve let out a whine before he could stop it, and he was so embarrassed, but it hurt. His body felt like it weighed a million pounds and he was beyond tired.

Eddie didn’t say a word, just climbed up onto the bed, gently maneuvering Steve around until he was sort-of half sitting up in the other boy’s lap. A position Steve never thought he’d be in, and he was a little pissed that he couldn't even enjoy it.

Was that something he wanted? To be in Eddie’s lap and enjoy it?

Somehow Eddie managed to both hold him up and reach for the pills he’d apparently laid out on the nightstand, handing them to Steve who was, mercifully, capable of popping them into his own mouth. Followed up with a glass of water which Eddie helped him hold onto, both of their hands wrapped together around the cup as Steve took small, grateful sips.

He expected Eddie to go now that there was nothing more to do but wait for the pills to ease his pain enough to let him sleep it off, but he seemed content to sit there with Steve’s head resting on his hip.

Fingers, tentative at first, found their way into Steve’s hair and began kneading lightly at the base of his neck. He moaned softly, the gentle touch bringing a hint of relief, and again he was fucking mortified at the display he was making, but Eddie let out a breathy chuckle, and his touch became a little more confident, and Steve thought maybe it was okay.

Sometime later Steve woke to an empty bed.

He didn’t even remember falling asleep but judging by the late afternoon sun trying its best to shine in through his window shade, he’d been out for hours, and the searing pain from before had dulled into an annoying but manageable headache.

He rolled out of bed, eager to find Eddie and continue their conversation from earlier, assuming everything he remembered had actually happened and wasn’t some kind of fucked up fever dream, but stopped short of the door, spotting a few more of the pills he’d taken earlier sitting out next to a refilled glass of water. A note scrawled sideways on a loose piece of notebook paper was laid beside it.

For when you wake up.

I’ll be downstairs.

– E

There was something painfully adorable about the fact that Eddie signed the little note when they were the only two people in the house. Steve downed the pills and the entire glass of water, and made his way down the steps.

It wasn’t hard to find Eddie. He just had to follow the music.

There he was, hair like a bird’s nest, dressed in ratty old sweats and a t-shirt with more holes than not, singing along under his breath and headbanging in the middle of the kitchen to whatever song was blaring so loudly from his headphones that Steve could actually make out the individual notes of the guitar riff.

He continued to watch from the doorway with barely contained laughter as Eddie bounced around the room like a madman, moving from one cabinet to another until he seemed to find what he was looking for, pulling a plate out and turning to set it down next to the toaster.

Their eyes met over the appliance.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie shrieked, jumping back with a hand held to his chest. He ripped the headphones from his head, putting them and the walkman down on the counter too. “Stomp your feet or something, would ya? Could give a guy a heart attack sneaking up on him like that!”

Steve grinned, stepping into the room. He had this horrible urge to walk right up to the other boy and wrap his arms around his waist.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “How long you been standing there, Harrington?”

“I saw nothing, I swear.” Steve threw his hands up.

Eddie huffed, his attention back on his task as he loaded bread into both sides of the toaster.

“So, how’s the head?”

Steve’s face instantly grew hot, and he saw the moment Eddie’s own words hit him, a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks.

“It’s, uh.” Steve swallowed hard, and had to pause to clear his throat. “Much better, thanks.”

Eddie held his gaze, absently running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Good, that’s… that’s good.”

The toaster popped, startling them both, and Eddie rushed to pull the slices out and slid the plate in Steve’s direction. “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of making you my signature dry toast. For the record, I can actually cook, but I wasn’t sure what you’d be able to stomach.”

Steve stared down at the plate and thought he might cry, which was ridiculous but this was... exactly what he needed. “It's perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, man.” Eddie ducked his head. “You’ve been taking care of me for days. I’m just trying to return the favor.”

They went into the living room together, at Eddie’s insistence, so Steve could sit down while he nibbled his toast.

“Alright,” Eddie blew out a long breath, keeping his eyes forward, looking out the room’s wide windows and picking at the edge of a throw pillow as he spoke. “I said I'd talk, and I feel like you deserve some kinda explanation so—”

“Wait, Eddie. First… you don’t owe anyone anything, okay? But if you want to talk, I’d really like to listen.”

Eddie nodded, still not looking at him. “I’ve always been a little… messed up, I guess? All this—this isn’t new for me. One time, when I was little, before I came to live with Wayne, my Dad got picked up on a drug charge. My mom was nowhere to be found, so CPS put me in a group home for a while. I can vividly remember laying on that bed at night, staring up at the ceiling, hoping I'd fall asleep and not wake up again. It was scary. It wasn’t even that bad of a place or anything. I just… I don’t know. I get stuck in this place where everything feels wrong, like I'm bad, and I'm so alone but I deserve it, and my chest hurts—my skin feels like it’s crawling. I just want it all to stop."

Eddie’s breath caught, and a single tear rolled down his face. He wiped at it aggressively, sniffling. "I’m sorry, I’m sure I sound crazy right now.”

“Not crazy.” Steve slid over on the couch. He wanted so badly to reach out and take the other boy’s hand, but wasn’t sure if it would be too much. He settled for letting their knees brush.

“I’m not always like that, though. Obviously.” Eddie went on. “I enjoy my life a lot of the time, it’s just hard to remember that when I’m in the middle of the shit. I love my friends, and Hellfire, and the band. But then I'll… sink. And sometimes there’s a reason, right? Something shitty happens and I’ll be bummed about it for a while, but other times it just comes out of nowhere.”

“Have you ever thought about talking to someone about it?” Steve asked.

“Like a shrink?” Eddie scoffed, finally swinging his gaze around to meet Steve’s. “I live in a trailer park, Harrington. Besides, I’m not sure I’d feel safe sharing my secrets with a stranger like that anyway.”

Steve chucked. “Ok, I get that. Not a doctor then, but like, Wayne?”

“I couldn’t dump this on him, he does enough for me already. I never wanted him to have to worry, though I guess that ship has sailed.”

“What about me? You could talk about Upside Down stuff if you wanted to, and I don’t know what other deep dark secrets you might have, but after everything I’ve seen, and done, I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would bother me or freak me out.”

Eddie hummed, shifting his body, moving to look Steve full in the face for a long while as he studied it, the length of his leg now pressed up against Steve’s thigh. “And if I said that I was gay?”

Steve felt like he should be more surprised, but mostly he just felt strangely… relieved. And he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with that.

Still, in the months since he’d gotten to know Robin he’d been practicing for this moment. Ready in case anyone he cared about ever came out to him again.

“Then, I would say,” Steve began slowly, and finally let himself grab Eddie’s hand. “Thank you for telling me, and trusting me.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed, more air than the actual vowel sound.

Steve squeezed his hand. “And it doesn’t change anything.”

Which was true, but also a lie, because it might just change everything.

Eddie squeezed back. “Thanks, Steve.”

Chapter 5

Thanks and love to @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all your help and encouragement with this.

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog

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#Sad/Angst with a HAPPY ending #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #tw sui ideation #cw sui ideation #tw depression #cw depression

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avastrasposts · 1 year ago

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 14

I'm sorry. Please feel free to yell at me.

Warnings Contain spoilers

Word count: 5.7k Chapter 15

You start pulling on your clothes as you come back from the bathroom, Frankie is already wrapped up in the bed sheets, half asleep as he pries open an eye to look at you.

“I was thinking we should maybe not both sleep at the same time,” you say, reaching down for your boots. Frankie loses his sleepy look almost immediately and shoots up in bed, but you’re already holding your palm up to him.

“I’m taking the first watch, Frankie, no arguments. You didn’t sleep last night, I did, albeit behind the couch, but still. You need to sleep because to be frank, we’re gonna need you alert tomorrow more than me.”

“Cariño…” he starts to protest but you physically push him down onto the bed with your hands on his shoulders, and he lets you topple him over.

“Sleep, Frankie, I’m going to be outside the door, you’ll hear me shout if anything happens.”

He looks up at you, trying to find an argument for taking the whole watch himself, but his brain is scrambled by adrenaline and sleep deprivation. The post-orgasm hormones don’t help either.

“Leave the door open, wake me at three,” is all he manages before you kiss his lips and stroke his cheek, you swear he’s already asleep by the time you leave the room.

Staying awake was harder than you thought, sitting on one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter stops you from dozing off, but you still feel like your jaw is going to pop as you yawn widely. Your gun is on the counter in front of you as you study the ring Frankie slipped onto your finger. The delicate gold band is thin, three simple diamonds set in a row, with room, you notice, for more diamonds along the band. You know Frankie isn’t the kind of guy to spend three months pay on a ring just so that it’s as big as possible, he would pick the ring that meant something to him and make it mean something to you too. You run your fingers over the diamonds, three in a row, you’ll have to ask him tomorrow.

At three am you gently walk into the bedroom to wake Frankie, but he sleeps too lightly, your footsteps wake him up and he shoots up in bed.

“It’s ok, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, “It’s three am.”

“Ok,” he rumbles, his voice rough with sleep as he rubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. You pull off your boots and crawl into bed with your clothes on next to Frankie. He catches your chin between his thumb and fingers, giving you a slow kiss, before letting go.

When you wake up a few hours later daylight is starting to slip through the shutters of the window. Frankie’s hand is on your shoulder, gently shaking you.

“Hermosa, time to wake up,” he murmurs as he bends and presses his lips to your temple. “The night was quiet and I made coffee.”

“Thank you,” you mumble and push the covers back, sitting up as Frankie hands you a mug.

You drink it while you get ready, which only means you put your boots back on and stick the gun into the back of your trousers. Frankie’s heated up another can of stew from Denny’s supplies and you both eat it in silence. You’re apprehensive about leaving the safety and quiet of the cabin and move back into populated areas, but you can see Frankie’s nerves too. His jaw is clenched as he goes through both your packs, swapping out some of the food for Denny’s supplies. As soon as you put down your spoon into the empty bowl he grabs it from you and starts readying up to leave.

“We should leave a note for Pope or anyone else who comes here,” you say and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, I did already,” he points to a folded piece of paper on the dining room table, “Read it and tell me if it makes sense.”

You pick it up and flip it open, reading Frankie’s neat handwriting;

September 29th

To anyone of the guys

My girl and I are safe up here for now. We’re heading to L’s place today. Pope was here on the 27th, also went for L but hasn’t returned yet.

We’ll return here when we have L, hope to see you all safe.

Catfish

You fold it up and put it back on the table, “Looks good to me, I really hope they’re all here when we get back,” you say, looking over at Frankie who’s picked up your backpack and walked over to you with it.

“Yeah, I really hope so too,” he replies as he helps you on with the pack, turning you around and adjusting the straps before he pulls your gun from behind your back.

“I made you this while I was keeping watch,” he holds up a makeshift leg holster. “You can’t wear a regular holster with a backpack on and you won’t be able to get the gun from behind the pack, and I don’t want you walking around with the gun in your hand.”

He kneels down and straps it to your thigh, using a snap-link to attach it to your belt. “Denny had a couple of old holsters for his hunting gear so I repurposed them.” He’s got a similar holster on his leg, his gun already in it and now he slides your gun into yours.

“Feel good?” he asks, looking up at you from the floor, tugging on the holster, making sure it’s not too tight.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how much use I’ll be, Frankie, I’ve never even fired a gun.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to but I can’t show you, I don’t know when we’ll get more bullets,” he gets up and gives your backpack a final look over, “Denny didn’t keep any guns or ammo up here so we’ll have to grab any that we find.”

Once outside the cabin, Frankie locks up and puts the key back into the lock box before turning towards the lake.

“There are a couple of canoes down by the small boat house,” he says, “we can use one of them to get across the lake, saves us walking around it, we’re heading in that direction.”

You nod and follow him down the gentle slope to the lake, the morning is calm and quiet, and again you’re struck by how normal everything feels. If it wasn’t for the slightly heavy feeling in your stomach, a small hot ball of anxiety, you’d think it was just Frankie and you heading out for a couple of days camping.

The trip over the lake is smooth and when you get to the other side, about a mile from the cabin, you get the packs out before Frankie paddles the canoe into some thick, tall reeds to camouflage it as much as possible. Luckily it’s an old wood canoe and it all but disappears into the reeds.

Frankie glances down at his compass, attached to his belt, and motion for you to follow him. You’ve agreed to speak as little as possible and move quietly. There probably won’t be any infected out here but Frankie doesn’t want to take any chances. So in silence you walk behind him for three hours, stopping when he holds up his hand, checking his direction or listening intently. At one point he signals for you to stop and crouch and as you sink down behind a bush, you hear rustling in the shrubs ahead. Your skin goes cold as you mimic Frankie’s movement and pull out your gun, moving it slowly out of your leg holster. The rustling continues, coming closer until, finally, you see the source of the sound, a white tail deer, slowly ambling through the forest, nibbling at leaves here and there as it goes. You let your breath out slowly, as Frankie stands up, startling the deer enough to make it prance away into the underbrush.

At the three hour mark Frankie finds a good spot for a break, a small stream that lets you refill your water bottles. Stretching out your legs on the ground, your back against a large boulder, you try to savor your lunch sandwich. Frankie sinks down next to you and gives you a little nudge with his shoulder.

“How you holding up, cariño?” he asks in a low voice.

“I’m alright, just jumpy,” you reply, leaning your head on his solid shoulder for a little bit. He caresses your cheek with his warm palm and you feel his lips press into the top of your head before he begins to unwrap his sandwich.

After lunch you get even jumpier, you’re still following hiking trails through the forest but every now and then you have to cross main roads, you start seeing houses, you even skirt around a small town. In the distance you see a group of people, you can’t tell if they’re infected or not, but as Frankie leads the two of you in a wide circle around the group, you keep watching them. They don’t move and you think they’re too unnaturally still for humans.

Just as you’ve managed to clear a small ridge and put some distance between yourself and them, a loud collective shriek goes up from the group of people. Frankie immediately grabs you and pulls you down into the tall grass next to the trail. It feels like your heart is going to claw itself out of your chest as you feel Frankie’s weight on top of you, he’s half covered you with his body. You glance up at his face and you see him carefully lift his head out of the tall grass.

“It’s ok, they’re running, but in the other direction,” he whispers and pulls you up. In a crouch Frankie starts to jog down the other side of the ridge, holding on to your hand as you run to keep up with him. You continue running until your lungs are about to give up and Frankie slows down but starts walking next to you, keeping a brutal pace, still holding onto your hand.

“We need to get away from them as fast as possible, we can’t fight that many on foot,” he pants, giving your hand another squeeze.

Not until you’ve covered about three miles does he slow down to a regular pace, you’re drenched in sweat and breathing hard, your legs aching. He pulls you off the side of the trail you’ve been following, into the forest and behind a thick shrub.

“Sit down,” he motions, pointing to the ground, “catch your breath and drink some water.”

You gratefully sink down and pull out your water bottle while Frankie remains standing.

“We’re about half a mile from the bridge and the river crossing,” he says, looking at the map. “We need to be extra careful as we approach, if people in this area were trying to get away from any towns they’d probably have to cross there which means a potential traffic jam and potentially infected.”

You nod and sip the water, offering Frankie your bottle when you’re done. He gratefully takes a long swig while you get back to your feet. You’re still exhausted after the sprint but you want to keep moving. The countryside around you makes you nervous, there are small farms dotted across it, three days ago you would’ve thought it looked quaint and rural, now the sight of every farm house makes you edgy.

Putting away your water bottle, you follow Frankie back to the trail and after a short time it emerges from the forest onto a large country road, up ahead you can see the bridge. As Frankie had feared, it’s jammed with cars. You can walk between them, but the thought of what might be hiding among them makes panic claw its way up your throat and you take a tight hold of Frankie’s hand. He looks back and sees the fear in your eyes. Pulling you back into the trees he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tight to his chest for a minute, he pulls back and cups your cheeks, his large hands are warm and dry on your skin, as he kisses you deeply before he looks down at you and traces his fingers over your lips.

“I’m sorry, cariño, it’s the only way forward.” His eyes rake over your face as if he’s committing it to memory and you suddenly realize what he’s doing.

“Don’t say goodbye, Frankie,” you croak, your voice catching in your throat.

“Just in case, mi amor,” he says in a low voice, pressing his lips to yours again. When he pulls back he turns and takes your hand, leading you back to the road where he lets go of it.

“Stay six feet behind me, gun out, safety off, but keep it pointed to the ground. If you have to fire, squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it.” He gives you a final look, a small smile, before turning back to the road.

It’s slow going, following Frankie’s lead you move carefully in his footsteps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Frankie stops and surveys the cars in front of you regularly but nothing seems out of the ordinary, you see no humans, only open car doors, luggage that’s been left behind.

As you’ve crossed about two thirds of the bridge a dog suddenly launches itself at the cage door keeping it shut in, barking loudly from inside a large SUV. Frankie and you both drop into a crouch, trying to see if the loud noise will draw in any infected, but the dog quietens down and the landscape around the bridge remains silent. You breathe a sigh of relief as Frankie carefully stands up again and motions for you to follow him. He carefully approaches the dog in the cage, a golden retriever you think, mumbling soft words to it, calming it down. Soon the dog is licking his fingers through the bars of the cage and Frankie slides back the lock, opening the door. The dog jumps down, its tail happily wagging as you scratch its ears.

“Good boy,” you mumble, patting its flank as Frankie starts moving forward again. You give the dog a final scratch before you follow him towards the end of the bridge. The dog trails behind you for a while before it falls behind, going back to the SUV.

As you get to the end of the bridge Frankie holds his hand up, signaling for you to stop. He points to the last pillar of the bridge, written on it, in what looks like black magic marker, are the letters SOF, underneath is a rectangle with a single line through the middle and the number 1 just outside the box.

“Special Operations Force,” Frankie says, “Pope’s been through here but he’s alone. The rectangle means he’s motorized.” He walks over to the pillar, pulling a marker from his side pocket and crouching down he writes SOF underneath Pope’s message, but he adds an odd looking cross underneath, two sides are flat and two are rounded. Then he writes ‘2’ next to it.

“Special Operations Aviation,” he explains while he stands up and puts the marker away. “I don’t think any of the other guys will come past here but if Pope comes back the same way he’ll see that we’ve been here.”

You continue down the road, it’s still about an hour's walk to Lucía’s house and you’re forced to stay on the road, there are no hiking trails leading in the right direction. Frankie’s head is on a swivel, his gun drawn as you both walk off to the side of the road, creating some distance between yourselves and the cars. There are less of them now, and up ahead you can see an almost clear road. You crest a hill in the road, carefully trying to see over to the other side before you’re too exposed, when a pickup truck just ahead rumbles to life and barrels towards you with a screech of tires. Frankie grabs your hand and pulls you behind one of the few cars on the road, his gun aimed at the truck. “They’ve got to be ok, right Frankie?” you say, his hand still holding you down behind the car. “Infected can’t drive!”

“Stay down, cariño,” he snaps, his eyes focused on the truck. You hear it come to a stop and the engine goes silent as the doors are opened. Frankie lets go of you and grabs his gun with both hands. You turn and peek over the bonnet of the car and see two men get out, staying behind the doors of the truck, as another two jump down from the flatbed.

“You know how to use that gun, sonny?” the oldest man calls from behind the driver’s door. He’s big and burly looking, a cowboy hat squashed down on a very round head.

“Sure,” Frankie calls back, shifting his stance.

“Why don’t you lower it and toss it over here. And any gun your cute girl might be carrying.” The man’s voice is saccharine and makes your neck hairs stand on end, you glance up at Frankie and see the muscle in his jaw working.

“We’re just passing through, trying to get to some friends, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Then why you pointing a gun at me, son?” The older man looks over his shoulder and nods at the two men who got off the truck and they slowly move to the sides, circling the two of you.

“Cariño, get your gun up and stand behind me, aim at the man on the left,” Frankie says in a low voice, his eyes never leaving the older man. You do as he says, trying to have a steady grip on the gun to keep your hands from shaking. Copying Frankie’s stance, you hold your gun in both hands, your feet apart and steady, aiming at the man on the left. With a thumb you flick the safety off and draw a deep breath.

“Steady there, girlie,” the old man drawls, as he sees you move, holding up a hand to stop the two men. “Son, you don’t want to do anything stupid and get your girl in trouble here.” He moves out from behind the car door, and from the corner of your eye you see the rifle he’s holding low in his hands. “We’re just out here making sure no one’s looting these cars, especially of any guns they might find.”

“These guns are mine, like I said, we’re just passing through.” Frankie calls back through gritted teeth. You can hear the sharp tone in his voice as his eyes flick from the man in the cowboy hat and the man still standing behind the passenger side door.

“You’re outnumbered, pal,” the man on the right calls out with a chuckle, “just hand over the guns and any supplies, and we’ll let you pass.”

“Might keep your girl though,” the man on your left drawls, the man you’ve got your gun aimed at, he’s eyeing you with a smirk on his face that makes your skin crawl. “She’s shaking like a leaf but I bet she’d put up a nice little fight.”

Frankie glances over at the man on the left, before he looks back at the man in the cowboy hat, he’s got a crooked smile on his lips as he shoulders the rifle.

“C’mon, sonny, the guns and the girl, and then you can walk away.”

Frankie’s gun is loud on the silent road, and the man in the cowboy hat crumples over, his shot going wide as the rifle hits the ground. The man on the left throws himself forward and you feel the recoil in your arms as you fire, you don’t even know if your bullets hit, you can hear several shots from Frankie’s gun and your own, and Frankie’s hand on your shoulder as he pushes you to the ground. Two more shots ring out and Frankie ducks behind the car, his gun raised, listening. When nothing stirs he quickly glances over the bonnet before he stands up. Three of the men are dead on the ground, the fourth one, the one behind the passenger door, is scrabbling for something and with a few long steps, Frankie is on him, kicking the gun out of his reach.

He’s on the ground, you can see him beneath the door, Frankie towering above him, his gun aimed at the man. As you watch, the man lifts his palms up, pleading, but the shot rings out and the man slumps back. Frankie bends down and picks up the man’s gun, quickly patting him down and fishing an ammo box from his pants. When he straightens up and walks back towards you his face is impassive, blank and you remember when you last saw that look; the bar that night you thought Frankie was a violent man. Now you know, he is violent, but only when he needs to and for now, you’re very grateful for his skills.

You put your hands out to push yourself off the ground and a burning pain shoots through your shoulder, wincing you get to your feet and look at your torn shirt. Blood is seeping through and you suddenly feel faint. Frankie is on you in two fast steps, grabbing your arm and pulling back your shirt.

“You’re hit,” his voice suddenly sharp with worry, as his gentle fingers push at the fabric, making you wince again. He unbuttons your shirt and pulls it over your shoulder. “Thank god,” he breathes out as he sees the shallow gash, “you’ve been grazed, it didn’t go in.” He pulls up his arm as if he’s about to pull his backpack off but changes his mind.

“Come here, get in the truck,” he guides you over to the passenger side, “close your eyes, don’t look,” he mumbles as you have to step over the corpse. You breathe in deeply and keep your eyes closed until Frankie closes the door. He bends down to pick up the other man’s rifle, putting it behind the bench seat, before he gets in and starts up the engine. It rumbles to life and Frankie turns it around, heading back down the almost empty road, and as soon as he sees a secluded spot he pulls over and kills the engine.

“I’ve got to clean your arm, cariño,” says, opening up his backpack for the first aid kit. “Does it hurt?” He looks over at you, his eyes are worried and you shake your head to calm him.

“Only a little, it stings more than anything.”

“Ok, just keep breathing in and out while I do this.”

The iodine solution makes you whimper but Frankie is fast and efficient, when the compress is on your shoulder the pain is already subsiding. He pulls your shirt back on, gives you a soft kiss, cradling the back of your head with his large hand.

“You ok?” he asks in a low voice, “not just the injury, with what just happened too?”

You let out a shuddering breath as you allow yourself to think about the situation, “I’m very glad you used to be a soldier, Frankie,” you say, leaning your forehead against his, “I think that’s the fourth time you’ve saved my life in twenty four hours.”

“Me too,” he breathes, his thumb is caressing your cheek as he looks at you. His deep brown eyes are strained, but calm, “Things are going to get worse before they get better, cariño. I’ve seen it before, when society crumbles, it brings out the worst in people and they become very dangerous. I need you and Lucía safe at the cabin until we know things are getting back to normal, whenever that might be.”

You nod and he turns back to the wheel and starts up the truck, “At least we got a truck out of it, this will make things easier as long as we have gas.”

The truck rumbles through the landscape, in the distance you see a group of infected running towards something but the road curves and you move away from them. Frankie has driven this road hundreds of times, every time he came to pick up or drop off Lucía, and now he wonders at how eerily still it is. There are no people as the truck drives past the first few houses of the small town, cars line the main street but they’ve been pushed to the side. The dents and scrapes on them indicate that something big came through and shoved them out of the way.

Frankie turns down a smaller side street, and then another small street, coming to the end of town. There are a few cars still parked outside the houses but most are gone. You glance over at him, his fingers are drumming on the steering wheel as his restless eyes bounce around the street, looking for infected, people, anything. He’s grinding his teeth, the muscle in his jaw flexing and when he pulls up outside a small bungalow you hear his white knuckles make the steering wheel creak.

“This is their place,” he says in a low voice, “the car is still here.” He opens the truck door and steps down, listening for any movement as you follow him out. Pulling his gun he moves carefully up the porch and tests the handle on the door, it’s locked.

“Stay by the truck,” he says to you, “if anything happens, if anyone comes, fire once in the air, ok?”

You nod and do as he says. Frankie carefully walks down the side of the house, easily scaling the wooden fence that closes off the backyard. He disappears from view and you nervously wait, looking around the quiet neighborhood. When he opens the door to the house from the inside you jump but he holds up his hand in a placating sign, signaling for you to stay where you are. He disappears into the house again, you guess this means Lucía isn’t here, and neither is anyone else.

You hear him walking through the house and before long he comes back out, a note in his hand.

“They’ve been evacuated,” he says, showing you the note from Lucía’s mom. It’s dated the day before yesterday, Saturday, the note says the soldiers came at night and gave them fifteen minutes to pack up essentials.

“She says they told her they’re going to a quarantine zone in Franklin. I’ve got to see if I can get them out of there.” He breathes a sigh of relief, “At least they’re safe for now.” he says, getting back into the truck and starting it up.

As the truck rumbles through town you start seeing more infected, they stumble out of a few of the shops, attracted to the sound of the truck. At one intersection you see a large number of them fallen into a pile, bullet wounds to their heads, and you quickly look away. Their pallid skin, starting to show strange looking lesions, no longer looks human, but their clothes are still bright and colorful, reminds you terribly of the people who would’ve put them on, maybe on Friday morning, expecting just another day.

Frankie speeds up, leaving town, and the shrieking infected behind, heading for Franklin. It’s less than an hour away, the nearest big city, and like before you see the cars pushed to the side of the road. Frankie’s fingers are drumming on the steering wheel again, his grip tight, his jaw clenched. He’s getting closer to Lucía, now he knows she’s safe, he just needs to get to her.

“When we get to the quarantine zone, do you think we should stay there?” you ask him. “It doesn’t sound like a ‘quarantine zone’ is somewhere they’ll let you in and out of. Maybe it’ll be safer for us there too?”

“I don’t know,” Frankie says, glancing over at you, “I need to see it first, how are they quarantining people? Keeping them separate enough so that if someone is already infected, they can’t attack and infect more people?” His fingers drum faster against the wheel, “I just need to see her, see her safe.”

You put your hand on his leg and give it a squeeze and he drops his hand, curling his fingers around yours.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Still stings a bit, but it’s dulled, hurts when I move it.” You test moving your arm up and down, feeling the pull of the compress.

“It’ll give you gnarly looking scar,” he grins, “match some of mine.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and gives it a kiss, his eyes leaving the road for a second. When he looks back again he sees birds circling up ahead.

“Buzzards,” he points them out to you. “Looks like they’re circling just over the road.” He slows down the truck as you come around a bend, clearing a small group of trees. The rumble of the truck startles the birds and you see more of them rise into the sky from the field bordering the road. Frankie stops the truck, leaving it in neutral, watching the birds circle, waiting to see if something moves. When nothing stirs he opens the door, signaling for you to stay put, and he steps on to the instep of the truck, hoisting himself up so that he can look over the door of the truck.

“Oh fuck…” you hear him breathe out.

“What, Frankie, what is it?” you ask but he doesn’t answer so you open your own door and swing yourself up on the instep. Frankie glances back at you and motions for you to get back inside.

“Cariño, don’t, you don’t wanna- “

It’s too late, you look over the field, it looks like almost a hundred people are lying in it, none of them moving. The buzzards are settling back down, walking across the still bodies.

“Oh my god…” you gasp, your hand going over your mouth as your eyes widen in horror. “What killed them?” you whisper, “are they infected?”

“Get into the driver’s seat,” he says, “I’m going closer but I need you to be ready to drive if they are infected.”

“I’m not leaving without you, Frankie!” you say in a hard voice, as you slide over the bench seat and get behind the wheel.

“I’m counting on it, cariño,” he grips your hand before jumping down onto the ground. Grabbing the rifle from the back he loads it before he starts moving slowly towards the field.

You step up onto the instep on the driver’s side, watching Frankie’s back as he makes his way across the road and into the field. As he reaches the first body he crouches down and seems to inspect them. Nothing moves, none of the bodies are jerking, they’re just dead. He stands up again and walks around the outskirts of where they’ve fallen. Suddenly he stops, slinging the rifle onto his back, before he steps into the mass of bodies, he must be stepping on them as he bends down and pulls at one of them, turning it over to face him. He stumbles back, losing his footing and falls onto his back among the bodies.

Without thinking you jump down from the truck and run to him, grabbing hold of his arm as he scrambles to stand up, getting away from the bodies.

“It’s Helena, she’s the mom of Lucía’s best friend,” he pants, standing up. You look over at the blonde woman, her open eyes looking sightless to the sky. Her torso has at least three bullet holes in the pale blue shirt she’s wearing, blood staining the light fabric dark.

“They lived across the street from Lucía,” Frankie croaks and you suddenly realize what he’s saying, gripping his arm hard.

He tears himself away from you as he starts circling around the bodies, crouching down, looking under those who have fallen on top of others, his eyes desperately scanning every face, every piece of visible clothing, looking for something he recognizes, praying he doesn’t. His heart is racing, his vision narrows into one long tunnel, focused on the bodies, praying, cursing, he can’t hear you call after him.

And then he sees it.

The hem of a dress he’d know anywhere because her abuela made it for her.

With a shout he steps into the mass of bodies. You rush up behind him, tears are welling up into your eyes, as you watch him scramble over to the small body. Skinny little legs in sneakers you bought for her birthday, you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from wailing.

The dress is sticking out from underneath a woman, and as he gets closer he realizes it’s his ex-girlfriend, her arms hugging her daughter tight, even in death. The back of her tan coat is dark with coagulated blood that sticks to his hands as he bends back her arms to release her grip. As he shoves her aside a strangled cry goes up from the small body underneath, Lucia’s head moves as a rattled breath escapes her lungs and Frankie cries out in relief, grabbing hold of her waist to gently turn her over, scanning her body for injuries, he sees no blood on her.

“Mija, I’m here, I’m here,” he gasps, “daddy’s here, Lucía, I’m here.”

He’s holding out his arms to lift her up when he sees it.

Trailing under the skin of her small throat.

Up under the pallid skin of her cheeks, spreading out in a fine net.

Tendrils reaching out from her small mouth.

“Frankie!” you cry as the small body shrieks and reaches for him. He almost takes her hand, almost takes the small hand that’s grasping after his. You can see it, even from behind him, you can see the empty eyes, the twitching movement.

Infected.

His hand is still in the air, halfway to reaching out for her, his Lucía, her hand outstretched to him. As she screams, his hand drops to his gun.

You turn your head when the gunshot rings out.

Chapter 15

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scarabsinthestardust · 3 months ago

Text

Better in the Morning // Ch. 5

MASTERLIST

Ouch. Sorry, guys.

Word count: 3017

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Language, drinking/severe alcoholism, vomiting, severe depression, panic attacks, anxiety, probably post-traumatic stress disorder on some level, a lot of talk about suicide/attempts, mentions of narcissism, manipulation, and emotional abuse

It was days like this I was grateful that Jake had given me a key to his house. Since that first night, I had only witnessed one other episode, and that was months ago. It was still difficult for him to open up during these times and reach out to me, when he was stuck so deep in his own head that all he could hear were those dark thoughts, but the warning signs were there: self-isolation, not answering texts or phone calls, and when he did talk it was mostly self-deprecating.

I had spoken to Josh to keep him in the loop and let him know I was on my way to check on his twin, assuring him I’d reach out if I needed him. I’m not sure how much he trusted me at this point, but he let me handle it.

It was still early in the evening when I arrived; the sun was just starting to go down. The house was dark and quiet as I’d expected. As I passed the kitchen, I noticed two empty whiskey bottles on the counter. The drinking was a little worrisome, but it wasn’t like he was constantly drunk, at least not on good days. During the bad days, though, it was as if he was trying to drown himself in it.

I expected to find him in his usual spot on the floor beside his bed, but he wasn’t there. The bathroom door was shut; I didn’t see any light coming from under it. I lightly tapped on the door, calling his name. When I got no answer, I tried to turn the doorknob. Locked. I knocked again and called out, louder this time. When all I received in response was silence, my heart dropped into my stomach. Memories from my childhood came rushing in, blurring my vision and putting a halt to the air I was trying to draw in. I was having a panic attack, something I hadn’t experienced in years. I was yelling and banging on the door, listening for any sign that he was okay. I tried to call his cell phone, praying to whatever gods I didn’t really believe in that he would answer, only to hear the vibrations from the bedside table.

I dialed Josh’s number, immediately launching into a blubbering mess when he answered, begging him to come. I don’t really remember what I said, or how much of it he understood through my cries, but he told me he was on the way and hung up.

I kept trying, even trying to force the door open or break the doorknob, but I wasn’t quite strong enough. I couldn’t catch my breath, and my heart was beating so fast I thought it might stop. My chest hurt and my hands were numb and already starting to bruise from banging on the door. I couldn’t push the images from my head of what I thought I might find, what I remembered. Blood. Why is there blood everywhere? Screaming. Is he alive? Is he breathing? Water all over the floor. He looks so pale. Why is there so much blood?

After what felt like hours (although it must have only been ten or fifteen minutes), I heard the front door slam and Josh running up the stairs. He took one look at my hysterical state and turned his attention to the bathroom door. He banged on it so loud it felt as though it shook the whole house. “Jake, if you don’t open this fucking door, I’m gonna break it down!”

When he got no response either, he cursed under his breath and told me to stand back while he slammed himself shoulder first into the door. That was going to hurt tomorrow. It took a few attempts before the sound of splintering wood echoed through the room and the door flew open. I couldn’t breathe; I felt suffocated, expecting the worst-case scenario.

There was no blood. I choked on my sobs as Josh rushed to his twin, who was slumped against the bathtub on the floor. Please, please be okay.

“He’s just passed the fuck out. Jesus, Jake.” Josh slapped his cheek a few times in an attempt to wake him up, but to no avail. The smell of liquor was strong and judging from the bottle that lay broken on the floor, plus the two in the kitchen, he’d polished off at least three. Josh then turned on the sink and cupped his hand to splash some cold water on his brother. Jake’s eyes fluttered open for a moment before closing again as he fell unconscious again. He’s alive. He’s going to be okay. He’s still here. I repeated the words inside my head like a mantra, trying to bring myself back down from my panicked state.

Josh sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Can you help me get him into bed?”

We didn’t speak as we lifted him off the floor. He was basically dead weight, so it was a struggle to drag him over to the bed. I wanted so badly to stay with him, to hold him while he slept, but I was still wired, and I was starting to feel sick.

Josh got to work cleaning up the broken glass on the bathroom floor. I gently ran my hand through Jake’s hair before planting a kiss on his forehead and leaving the room.

It was so hot. Or maybe it was just me. I stepped outside the front door, welcoming the open air. I counted the cracks on the concrete. One. Two. Three. Four. My breath shuddered as I tried to control it, and my body was shaking. My eyes burned from crying and I’m sure they were bloodshot; I’m sure I looked like shit entirely. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and I suddenly felt very ill. I doubled over and emptied the contents of my stomach into the grass.

“Are you okay?”

I jumped at the sound of Josh’s voice. I didn’t hear him come outside. He stood there, looking at me with what was probably pity in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry. I got scared. I’m sorry I freaked out.” I was still breathing so heavily I’m shocked I didn’t pass out, too.

He bit his lip and extended his hand. “C’mon, let’s go inside. I’ll get you some water.”

I nodded and followed him back inside. I didn’t have the energy to speak as he handed me a glass of cold water. We sat in silence for a while; I was grateful for the chance to get my breathing under control and my head straight. But just as I was beginning to feel like myself again, Josh had to go run his mouth and get my blood boiling.

“I understand if you can’t handle this.”

Sighing, I rubbed my eyes and sat up to meet his. “And what do you mean by that, Joshua?”

“I’m just saying that this isn’t going to go away. If it’s too much, if you can’t stick around for the next one-“

I glared at him and cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “Are we really having this conversation again? I’ve already told you I’m not fucking going anywhere. I’m sorry that I got scared. What was I supposed to do?”

“He’s not going to off himself, Kya.”

“No, he might just drink himself to death. So fuck me for being worried about him.” He was avoiding my gaze and absentmindedly picking at his cuticles. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Huh?”

I waited for him to lift his head so I could look him in the eyes when I spoke again. “He’s it for me, Josh. Do you think I’m bullshitting you when I tell you I love him more than anything? He is my everything. He’s my end game. I know things might not always be perfect or easy- what part of relationships is? We all have baggage, and I’m prepared to stand by him while he deals with his, no matter how bad it might get. I understand that you’re probably just trying to protect your brother, I get that, and maybe you don’t think I’m good enough for him or whatever, but for fuck’s sake stop trying to scare me off. Maybe man up and tell me what you’re fucking problem is so we can work through it like adults.”

I was absolutely fuming at this point. I had tried so hard to keep my cool with Josh, if only for Jake’s sake. I was so sick of him acting like he still couldn’t trust me after so long. It had been over a year- a year and three months to be exact. My frustration with him had only been building, and this was the icing on the cake, on top of all the stress tonight. His eyes started to well up with tears and I suddenly felt guilty.

“I’m sorry. You’re right.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ve been an asshole to you.” I waited, forcing myself to be patient as he searched for his next words. “The last time Jake fell in love, that girl ripped his fucking heart out. She treated him like shit, like he didn’t mean anything to her.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the mention of his ex. “I told you. I’m not her.”

“She seemed really sweet at first, we all liked her. But she didn’t love him, she loved the idea of him. He fell hard for her, though. She messed with his head; a manipulative narcissist is what Sam called her. The first time she witnessed one of his episodes, you know what she did? She told him to grow up or just kill himself. He never really said this, but I think she genuinely tried to convince him to do it.”

“What the actual fuck?” I almost couldn’t believe what he was telling me.

“Yeah. And then she cheated on him, rubbed it in his face by sending him a clip of the sex tape, and said a bunch more really fucked up things to him that I won’t repeat. She messed him up. That was the only time I ever worried he might actually hurt himself. He never did, but… you know.” He shrugged and fiddled with a frayed spot on his pants. “But then you came along, and he’s been so happy. When you guys fought that night at the bar, he was terrified he was going to lose you. I was pissed at you for being mad at him when he didn’t do anything wrong. I guess I got scared, too. I don’t want to see him get hurt again.”

“I didn’t know about any of that,” I whispered. “What a cunt.”

He snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“He never talks about her.”

“I don’t figure he would want to.”

“It’s gonna be on sight if that bitch ever shows her face, you know.”

I didn’t intend it as a joke, but Josh chuckled. “Careful, your crazy is showing.” I shot him the bird and he grinned. “I think you’re nuts, but he loves you. Actually,” he looked down at his lap again, but I swear he smiled. “I think you’re it for him, too.”

My heart swelled at his admission. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

He shrugged and smiled sadly. “It’s okay. It’s been a rough night.”

“I’m sorry that I freaked out, too. It all just hit a little too close to home for me.” I hugged my knees to my chest as Josh cocked his head inquisitively at me. This is the part where I would typically shut my mouth and tell myself no one needed to hear about my trauma. There were only a handful of people who knew the story. Did I really want Josh to be in that circle when I had not even told my own boyfriend? But despite the wedge between us, Josh had this aura around him that was warm and inviting. I found myself in a strange position of wanting to open up to him, to give him an explanation of why I reacted the way I did tonight. So, I took a deep breath and that’s what I did.

“I had a brother. Luca. He was two years older than me. He had sporadic episodes, too, like Jake, except he did hurt himself. A lot.” I chewed on my bottom lip as the anxiety rose up in my chest. “Jake doesn’t know. I don’t know why I haven’t told him, I just…” I shook my head.

“What happened to him?” Josh’s voice was soft and gentle, letting me know he was listening.

I was already in the water, and it was too late to get out now. “He was my best friend. He was funny and sweet; he took care of me when our dad couldn’t. When he was at his best, he was all contagious smiles and laughter, the sun personified. But when he was at his lowest, he wasn’t my brother anymore. And I never knew which side of him I was going to get.” I sucked in a deep breath to fight off the tears threatening to spill. “He tried to end it a few times. I was 11 when he locked himself in the bathroom. They busted the door down and he had cut his wrists in the bathtub. I thought… I thought it was going to be Jake’s blood all over the tile when you opened that door.”

I didn’t notice that Josh had stood and walked over to the couch, sitting next to me and putting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“He didn’t die that night. I sometimes wish he had.” I didn’t want to see the look Josh was surely giving me. I’m sure he was judging me. “I wish he had, because a few years later, I found him in the woods by our house with a gun to his head. He looked me dead in the eyes and pulled the trigger. He blew his fucking brains out right in front of me. I was 14. And sometimes I hate him for it.”

“Fucking hell,” Josh whispered. I was crying now, my head buried in my hands in a pathetic attempt to hide it, vaguely aware of him rubbing a hand up and down my back.

“I think maybe… I haven’t told Jake because I don’t want him to feel guilty. And… I know he isn’t Luca. Luca’s been gone for a long time, and right now, Jake’s the one that needs me. I’m gonna take care of him, because I love him. So much.”

Both of our heads shot up and the sound of a distinctive thump, followed by a cough. I stood and followed the sound, only to find Jake seated on the staircase, on one of the bottom steps, his head leaned up against the wall. Bloodshot and tear-filled eyes came up to meet mine, emphasized by dark circles. “Baby,” I sat next to him and pulled him into my arms. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you.”

I shushed him. “It’s okay, and you’re okay. That’s what matters.” I held onto him, listening to his uneven breaths. Josh peeked at us from around the corner, looking just as exhausted as I felt. “Jake, baby, you want to come lay on the couch with me?” Once seated on the couch, Josh handed him a glass of water, which he took a tiny sip of before abandoning on the coffee table. I coaxed him to lie down, his head in my lap. The overwhelming smell of liquor flooded my nostrils, but I’d drag him into the shower later. Right now, he needed rest, and probably some assurance that he was loved.

He fell asleep like that, spread across the couch, holding onto my hand like his life depended on it. Josh gently tossed a throw blanket on top of him and retreated to his spot on the recliner. I wasn’t in the most comfortable position, but I didn’t dare move Jake. I rested my free hand on his head, doing my best to smooth out his knotted hair. Josh dozed off next, curled up in the recliner.

I know I didn’t sleep much, but eventually I opened my eyes to the room lit by the early morning sun. Jake was still sleeping. The faint sound of a toilet flushing indicated that Josh was already up, and I realized I desperately needed to pee. I gently nudged Jake awake and he blinked at me sleepily. He mumbled an apology, which I brushed off, reassuring him he didn’t have a damn thing to apologize for.

After relieving myself and cleaning up a little, I returned to Jake, laid back down on the couch. He complained of a pounding headache; that made sense considering he was probably extremely hungover. The way his sad eyes avoided mine and his lack of interest in getting up from the couch was a clear sign that he hadn’t gotten out of his head yet. He was still suffering.

With some help from Josh, I managed to coax Jake into the shower. His energy was nonexistent. I stayed with him, taking the chance to shower myself. I helped him wash and comb out his matted hair; he seemed to enjoy it, and I didn’t mind taking the time to do it. I understand that caring for someone like that isn’t for everyone. It can be stressful and time consuming, but I didn’t regret making this decision. He was my everything, despite the bad nights and the fear that dwelled in my gut. When have I ever let fear control me, though?

I would do whatever he needed me to, whatever would make him understand that he wasn’t alone, and I was never going to let him deal with this alone. Whatever shit came for him, we’d face it together.

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #gvf #gvf fanfiction #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jacob kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiska fic

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turtletaubwrites · 11 months ago

Text

Gone Too Far ~ Part 20

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader, Sanji X Robin

This is part 20 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Word Count: 4411

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 10 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

Summary: The crew splits up to enjoy time on Water 7. Then everything goes wrong. Can your crew hold together when it's being torn apart?

Rating/Warnings: AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Swearing, ANGST, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Polyamory, Pet Names,

A/N: !!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7 arc. I'm sorry y'all, I had to write it, so please have my tears. This part is rough, but I swear there will be breaks ahead. Plus, I hope you enjoy the extra smut scenes from the missing month, an extra sweet and smutty one will be posted tomorrow! 💜

You grumbled as you got ready for the day, wanting to stay in bed with Robin for the next week.

“Come, botanist. Let’s explore together.”

That stopped your grumbling, and you followed her out on deck.

Usopp was hugging the mast, and you left Robin’s side for the first time to go pat him on the shoulder.

“You took great care of her, Usopp.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I know all the tinplate patches don’t look like much, but they bring back a lot of fond memories.”

“Why don’t you keep some of them? You can make something cool out of them, like a decoration for the Merry.”

Usopp broke out into a grin.

“That’s a great idea! But don’t tell Luffy, he still wants me to make him a statue.”

“Ha, you have my word.”

“Hey, Needy.”

You had started walking back to Robin, but Zoro’s voice carried over from the bow of the ship. Your body already itched to be close to her again, but you walked toward your swordsman as he leaned over the railing.

“Hey, babe.”

Zoro stared down at you for a moment, before reaching an arm toward you. Stepping toward his warmth, you let him pull you into a hug.

Outside of sparring, you hadn’t had much time with Zoro since you’d been so focused on Robin getting better. A twist of guilt hit your stomach, but you breathed through it.

It’s only been a few days, and she almost died.

Still, part of you had started to worry that he was upset. It’s been a couple months now since you first started seeing each other. Zoro hadn’t had any more blowups recently, and it seemed like things were going well.

The calm didn’t feel safe though. You wanted to believe that if he was harboring any resentments or pain that he’d come to you, talk to you about it. But he hadn’t brought anything up. It made you uneasy sometimes.

Knowing that a lot of that fear was your own trauma from past relationships, you fought not to project it onto Zoro.

I just wish he’d talk to me about his feelings.

You pulled him tight against you at that thought. At the three little words that you were too much of a coward to say out loud, even after all this time.

Afraid that you’d scare him away. Afraid that he didn’t feel it too. Afraid that he’d never examine his own feelings enough to know if he could feel it or not.

Those thoughts made you feel sick, and you knew most of it was your own shit. You didn’t want to think about him that way.

But no matter how clear you got your mind on those thoughts, you still felt too afraid to tell him.

“I’m glad she’s okay,” he whispered against your temple.

“Me too.”

You took a deep breath in, still trying to convince your body that it was true. That she was okay.

“Are you gonna… spend the night with her again?”

You pulled back, searching his eyes.

“Why?”

“I, uh…”

He frowned at you, and you tried not to roll your eyes.

He’s trying to tell me what he needs. He just doesn't have enough practice yet.

“Would you like some time with me tonight?”

Zoro looked away from you, but nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Now look who’s needy,” you teased, winning you a playful grin from him as he picked you up. Then he stopped, setting you back down as he looked out across the bow.

“Hey, I think we’re there.”

Most of the crew ran up, shouting as you all squinted to see the island.

“He’s right, I can see Water 7!”

Luffy’s excited words had you covering your eyes from the sun, until you could see the island coming into view. It was massive, built of gray stone, huge numbered gates surrounding all sides. Everyone was speechless for a moment as a giant fountain came into view, spiraling water into the air, towering in the center of the island. Canals flowed down, spilling back down into the ocean.

You squeezed Zoro’s arm before making your way to Robin, loving the way her face lit up at the sight.

Holding her hand, you laughed as you sailed through the town. Everything was floating. Instead of streets, people took small boats led by strange fish creatures across the water.

The crew found a place outside the city to dock, and you watched your swordsman furl the sails. His strong arms were mesmerizing as he pulled the rope, but your breath caught in your throat as the mast started to crack.

“Are you trying to break the ship,” Usopp yelled, as everyone panicked.

“No! All I did was pull the ropes like I always do. Holy shit, if the Merry’s falling apart this easy, we’re lucky we made it here at all.”

Ice sank into your stomach at Zoro’s words. You knew it was bad, but the mast seemed like it was barely holding on to the ship now, swaying dangerously overhead.

Nami took charge, declaring that Luffy and Usopp accompany her to turn in the reference letter to have the ship looked at, and to trade in the gold from their last big score.

“I guess I missed my chance to go with them,” Chopper pouted as he watched the group head toward the city.

“You can come with us later if you like.”

Hearing Robin’s voice still gave you shivers.

“Really? Can we go to a bookstore?”

“Yes, of course.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed, reaching for her hand again. “I wonder if they have a nursery here, I'd love to see what plants they have available in a floating city.”

You rushed to give Zoro a kiss, then ran after Robin and Chopper as they left the ship.

A small part of you felt bad for not searching the ship to kiss Sanji goodbye, but it was quickly drowned out by Robin’s laughter, and the feel of her arm around your waist while you followed Chopper.

The city was bustling, street vendors hawking wares, while citizens laughed and bartered. The people were almost strangely friendly here, even to pirates.

Sometimes a little too friendly.

That thought got stronger the more you and Robin were showered with compliments as you walked past.

“This town is full of Sanji’s,” Chopper noted, and it left you and Robin in a fit of laughter at the thought of your amorous lover.

A lot of the townsfolk were wearing painted wooden masks, and you stopped by a vendor to take a look as Robin reassured Chopper that they were just masks, not monsters.

“It seems the people here take the sea train to San Baldo Island where they hold a costume carnival every day.”

You tilted your head at Robin, while Chopper asked how she could know that.

“The people walking by are talking about it.”

“And you hear everything they say?”

You tried not to tense your hand in Robin’s, hoping she would answer his question.

“I can’t help it. Ever since I was young, I’ve made it a habit to keep a critical eye and ear on my environment.”

Her tone toward Chopper was sweet and light, but you felt yourself going still.

What has she been running from? Why is she so scared?

“Look at that, I think we found your bookstore,” Robin observed.

Chopper ran forward, talking excitedly. You knew public spaces were difficult for him alone, so you found yourself reaching out for him. He shifted into his massive human form, and you raced forward to join him, dropping your hand from Robin’s for a moment.

“Hold on, Chopper, we’re coming.”

You followed him through the doorway, seeing that he was already perusing the shelves, and that no one seemed to be bothering him.

I’m glad everyone here is so friendly.

Robin hadn’t joined you yet, so you stepped back outside.

The street looked the same. Vendors, customers, people in masks.

Ice cold fear shot through you.

Where’s Robin?

“Chopper! We have to go.”

“But, Y/N,” he said, a pile of books in his large arms.

“Robin’s missing!”

Panic raced through you, and you saw Chopper’s eyes fill with concern as he left the books on the counter.

Chopper shifted into his reindeer form, and you yelled her name as he followed her scent.

She’s okay, she probably just got distracted.

What if Aokiji came back? What if he took her?

What if she’s hurt?

Robin didn’t answer your calls, but you kept trying until your voice got hoarse.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, it’s like her scent just vanished.”

“What do you mean vanished?”

“I don’t know, it just stopped,” the note of panic in Chopper’s voice as he explained wasn’t helping your speeding pulse.

“Hold on…”

Chopper lifted his nose to the air, and hope gripped your chest.

“There’s something else over here. I know that smell.”

Racing to look around the corner, your hope dropped when she wasn’t there. Instead, you found Sanji.

He was sitting on the edge, looking out to sea with a pile of groceries beside him.

“Sanji! Have you seen Robin?”

Chopper's hooves clattered on the stone as he caught up to your frantic steps. Sanji frowned at him.

“I just saw her. It seemed like she ignored me, and she was walking with a large person in a masked outfit. I thought that was you in your human form, Chopper.”

“It wasn’t m-”

“She’s missing, Sanji!”

You gripped his arm, watching him take in your features, your panicked eyes. He gestured behind him, looking around the area.

“I followed her over here, and it seemed like she just disappeared.”

“So did her scent.”

Your ears were starting to ring as they spoke, and you pulled away, shouting her name.

“Angel, hold on!”

He clambered after you, grabbing the groceries as he and Chopper followed.

Your voice was cracking, and your breaths were ragged.

Sanji dropped the bags again, wrapping his arms around you.

“We’ll get her back, Y/N. We’ll always get her back.”

They convinced you to hop into a boat while you continued to call for her around the area, before heading back to meet with the rest of the crew.

You noticed Sanji and Chopper had started speaking in hushed tones, and you were able to pull yourself together enough to start listening.

“I hope she’s alright. I feel uneasy.”

“Do you need an examination?”

“No, Chopper, it’s not like that. It’s what the admiral said, all that terrible stuff he said about Robin’s past…”

Your voice was raspy and empty as you interrupted.

“Protecting this troublesome woman leads to nothing but regret.”

They turned to you, brows tensed in concern. You kept going.

“He said that every group she’s ever been a part of has been destroyed, everyone except for her.”

You glared defiantly at them, anger bubbling in you.

“But I don’t care about her past. I don’t care what he said.”

Sanji gripped your knee while Chopper nodded.

“None of us care, sweetheart. We’re going to get her back.”

“The Merry can’t sail again.”

You couldn’t understand Zoro’s words as Chopper and Sanji started to argue. Your fists clenched hard, nails digging into your skin as you tried to make sense of everything.

“It just seems so extreme, it's our same old Merry, we’ve traveled with her so long.”

Sanji’s emotional words brought you into the moment, only for Zoro’s calm, unaffected voice to make your mind go sickly still.

“You just answered your own question. Human beings get stronger after hardship, but ship’s wounds just pile up. The shipwright said her keel is broken, she won’t even make it to the next island.”

Chopper started to cry, and you almost sobbed as you watched Sanji touch the top of his hat to comfort him.

“We need to find Ro-”

“Hey, everyone!”

Nami’s frantic voice interrupted your plea, and you watched her climb onto the deck. She was carrying a large briefcase, and was dripping with sweat and tears. You ran to her, fresh panic flooding your veins.

“Are you o-”

“Usopp’s hurt! Some assholes called the Franky Family stole most of our money for the Merry, and they- they…”

Everyone surrounded her, all speaking at once while you moved her hair out of her face, taking the briefcase from her trembling arms.

“Where’s Usopp?”

Chopper’s serious voice broke through Nami’s staggered breaths. You felt like your world was spinning as the boys set out to find him, and to go after the pieces of shit that hurt your friend.

Zoro’s face was inches from yours, his hands gripping your arms.

“Stay here with Nami. Protect the Merry. Okay, Needy? You need to stay here. Protect that money so we can get a new ship.”

Nami gripped your hand while Sanji kissed your temple.

Zoro’s eyes burned into yours.

“Promise me, Needy.”

“I promise,” you managed to whisper, voice still shot from yelling Robin’s name.

Nami’s palm was clammy in yours as you watched your crewmates head back into danger.

Why is this happening?

It felt like years had passed when you finally saw the five Straw Hat boys walking home, Luffy back with his crew, and Chopper’s human form carrying Usopp’s bloody, limp body.

You sat on deck against the unstable mast, and tried not to scream at everyone.

We need to find Robin.

“Angel, are you okay?”

Sanji was crouching in front of you, soft eyes searching yours.

“No.”

His lips pursed as he nodded, and he looked like he was about to speak when Chopper yelled.

“He’s awake!”

Relief moved through you for your friend as you followed the crew inside. But you caught Sanji’s eyes, and knew that he was still thinking about your missing archaeologist too. Reaching for his hand as you went through the door, you caught the sound of Usopp crying out.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I was strong like you guys. It’s all my fault, I’m so ashamed of myself!”

Even covered in bruises and bandages, Usopp lurched forward, catching Zoro off guard as he wrapped his arms around one of his thighs. Zoro seemed to panic, flailing a bit, unsure of what to do as Usopp wept against him.

Tears streamed down your face. You knew all too well the fears of failing the crew because you weren’t strong enough.

“It’s not that big a deal, alright. Calm down.”

Zoro squirmed as Usopp still clung to him, and you rushed forward, rubbing Usopp on the shoulder until he let Zoro go. He clung to you now, and you didn’t know what to say. You just held your friend, letting your own tears fall quietly as he kept sobbing in your arms.

“I lost the money, what are we gonna do about the Merry?”

“You need to rest, Usopp, or you won’t get better,” Chopper pleaded, the threat of tears in his voice.

Luffy was finally able to calm Usopp a bit, declaring that they would find that asshole, Franky.

“Besides, even if we can’t get our money back, we still have a hundred million berry, so don’t worry about it!”

You thought the vein in Nami’s forehead would pop when she scolded him. The crew had lost two hundred million berry on Usopp’s watch.

Poor Usopp. This is awful.

The thought of what a shitty day it was brought you back to Robin, and you almost screamed to get everyone to focus on her. But Usopp’s hopeful voice made your stomach twist in knots.

“Is Merry gonna be okay? Can we get her fixed with the money we’ve got? There’s all these awesome shipwrights, you talked to them about it, right?”

Luffy glossed over the pain, smiling as he broke the news.

“Uh, yeah, we did. But we decided to get a new ship instead. The Going Merry has taken good care of us, but it looks like our journey has to end here. But look, there’s a bunch of great ships we can still afford,” Luffy said lightly as he showed Usopp a catalog from the shipyard.

Feeling the pain from the silent crew with the captain’s choice, the look in Usopp’s eyes made your heart break.

You watched him build himself up again, trying to convince himself that it was a joke.

Until he looked at all of your faces, the truth evident.

“Does it mean we don’t have enough for the repairs? Is it because I lost the money?”

“Usopp-”

You tried to move back to him, wanting to reassure him, but Zoro’s firm hand on your shoulder stopped you.

Usopp was yelling at Luffy now, demanding the truth, and you’d never seen Luffy’s face like this. Not when looking at a friend.

His teeth were clenched as he held his words in, sweat beading on his brow. Until he started yelling back.

Zoro moved past you then, stepping in to stop the fight. You caught eyes with Nami, your pain echoed in hers.

“I don’t see what I’m doing wrong, he’s the one saying all this dumb shit.”

Nami broke in to stop Usopp, begging him to calm down and rest.

“Who cares about me? How can you all just sit here when he's making jokes about getting a new ship?”

Luffy was shaking now as he started to yell back.

“I’m not joking about anything, this was a hard decision for me too!”

“Oh yeah, I feel really sorry for you,” Usopp growled, before grabbing the ship catalog out of his hand. “Already window shopping for a new toy!”

You gasped as Usopp slammed the pages to the ground, wishing this nightmare would fucking end so your crew would be safe and happy again.

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Usopp?”

He kept yelling at your captain, demanding to know that it was his fault for losing the money, his fault for failing the Merry.

Luffy finally said the words, the painful words that none of you wanted to hear. But you hoped it would stop the fight.

“The Merry can’t be fixed.”

But that awful truth didn’t stop the fight. Usopp denied, and accused, and bartered. Then he demanded.

“Don’t give up on the Merry!”

Hot tears stung your cheeks as you stood frozen.

More yells and accusations toward Luffy felt like whips snapping in your face, almost making you flinch with each swing.

Sweet Chopper moved toward Usopp, hoofs quivering as he reached out.

“I know you’re upset, but you need to calm down.”

“Not until we settle this, I won’t let you take the Merry away from me! You’re ignoring your crew, ignoring your friends. I can’t believe that’s the kinda captain you turned out to be.”

Usopp had stood and grabbed Luffy by the front of his shirt. He wasn’t listening to any of your voices as the crew pleaded with him to stop.

“I thought you were better than this!”

“You’re not being fair, Usopp-,” Nami tried again, before Luffy flung out his arm for her to stop.

“You stay out of this. It was my call. We’re getting a new ship whether you like it or not.”

Usopp was sweating through his bandages now, dark spots of blood showing through some of them. You didn’t know your friend could make a face like the one he had right now. You felt like you were going to throw up.

They kept screaming, and you couldn’t follow the words anymore as you watched in horror. Sanji tried to step between them, but Luffy pushed Usopp to the ground, yelling in his face. Nami cried out, and you tried to run forward, but Zoro stopped you again. You almost screamed at him.

Luffy’s next yell pierced through it all.

“Fine, if you don’t like the way your captain does things then why don’t you get-”

Sanji’s leg was so fast as it spun, launching Luffy straight through the kitchen table, shards of wood and dust flying. You gaped at your cook, rage and sweat dripping from him.

“This is going way too far. What the hell is wrong with you? If you don’t watch it you’re going to say something you can’t take back, so calm down.”

Sanji was shaking now, breath ragged, and you felt your lips quiver at the anger in his eyes.

Luffy crawled from the broken pieces of the table, and apologized. You felt a breath of relief, before Usopp tore it away.

“If you’re gonna throw away the Merry, might as well throw me away too.”

Sanji tried to step in again, but then Usopp laid out his own fears before the crew. You felt raw, aching. You wanted to reassure your friend, but how could you, when you felt the same way he did about being weak?

“It’s not like it was before. You’re all too strong for me now. You can’t even trust me to guard our money. You don’t want weak people on your crew do you?”

Nausea flooded you, your own guilt and shame at your weakness making you hate yourself in this moment.

“I’m leaving the crew. This is goodbye.”

It’s only a matter of time before something like this happens to me. Maybe I should follow Usopp. Maybe he's right.

Most of the crew lurched forward, calling for him until he shut the door. Part of you was screaming to join him, to leave the crew before you could fail them, before you could hate yourself for failing them.

“Luffy, what are you doing, go after him!”

Nami’s frantic voice kept pleading with him, but he stayed down, eyes dark.

“Fine, have it your way then.”

Nami ran out the door, Sanji and Chopper following. You heard the three of them calling his name, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. Luffy and Zoro stayed, their silence heavy. Finally, Luffy stood, moving outside. You ached for him, finally free to follow.

Usopp’s voice carried over from the shore, and you grabbed Nami’s hand.

Please, Usopp, please come back.

“I challenge you to a duel, Monkey D. Luffy! At ten tonight. If I win I'm taking the Merry, and I’m leaving.”

The silence on deck was deafening as you watched Usopp’s limping form move toward the city.

Robin’s still missing.

You hated yourself for it, but thinking about Robin was the only thing keeping you from falling into self pity. The only thing keeping you from leaving the ship in shame along with Usopp.

So you dug through her quarters. She was so private, and you felt sick as you searched for any kind of clue for where she might have gone.

You could hear Nami pleading with Luffy through the thin walls to apologize, and talk things through.

“It’s gone too far already.”

You shivered at Luffy’s tone, and kept on your hunt.

It wasn't long before you heard your boys screaming at each other, and you sank to the floor, too spent to try to stop them.

I’m worthless. I can’t protect anyone. I can’t do anything.

Nami tapped lightly on the door, calling your name softly.

“Y/N, it’s ten.”

Swallowing your self pity, you followed your friend to the deck again, watching Usopp’s silhouette against the city lights as he moved closer.

“Listen up, I don’t want any of you leaving the ship,” Luffy called over his shoulder.

You grabbed onto Chopper’s small arm as he started screaming, crying for them not to fight.

But nothing would stop them now.

Usopp started pelting Luffy with all different types of ammo, and you couldn’t hear what they were saying over the waves, and Chopper’s cries.

You thought Luffy was going easy on him at first, letting Usopp hit him, but soon you saw your captain jumping off the ground in pain shaking off what looked like caltrops.

Then the air around Luffy was filled with flames. Luffy made it through the smoke, and you almost screamed as you saw him pull his fists back. But before he could make contact, Usopp kept shooting star after star, and you watched your friend, the sniper, hold his own against your captain.

For a while, at least.

Luffy was looking wrecked, and you felt a twinge of disgust in yourself that you felt proud of Usopp for hurting him so badly.

This is horrible.

Then Luffy pulled back again, and this time, his fist hit. You sobbed as you clasped your hand over your mouth. Usopp swayed for a moment, and you could see more blood draining from him even from a distance.

You fell against the railing, barely holding yourself up as Usopp collapsed.

“At least it’s over now.”

Zoro’s steady voice made your head whip around, finding him looking as he usually does. Stoic, seemingly unmoved. Your mind was too filled with pain to think clearly, and then Sanji’s voice broke through.

Chopper was crying, trying to jump off the ship to help Usopp. Sanji was holding him trying to stop him and you wanted to scream.

“I’m a doctor-”

“He’s not a part of our crew anymore.”

Chopper shifted into his human form, but Sanji tackled him. You sank to the ground as you watched everyone fall apart.

“Chopper, it’s bad enough that he lost the fight. If you pity him now, you’ll end up hurting him even more. He knew this is how it might end when he challenged Luffy. We need to give him dignity in defeat.”

“That’s such bullshit,” you growled, voice cracking. You might have yelled if your voice wasn’t shot.

Sanji glanced back at you with pained eyes. Chopper used that moment to break away, running off the ship toward Usopp’s crumpled body.

Pulling yourself to your feet, you went to Nami, clasping your cold hands together.

Luffy made his way back, his head lowered under his hat, and you let out a sob at the pain in his cracking voice.

“It’s too much.”

Zoro didn’t even turn to face him as he took a breath.

“This is what it means to be captain. You can’t doubt yourself. If you lose your confidence, then who can we have faith in?”

Emptiness filled you as everyone stood silent. Then Zoro had to say the last words, the truth that twisted like a knife.

“Usopp can never return to the crew.”

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Part 21

A/N: I'm sorry 😭😭😭 We won't be sad forever! I hope you enjoy the sweet and smutty extra scene with Sanji tomorrow, I'll make sure we have a good mix to get us through all this angst 💜

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#sanji x reader #nico robin x reader #zoro x reader #one piece fanfic #mine #Fem!Reader #Reader Insert #poly fanfic #nico robin x fem!reader #one piece x reader #nico robin fanfic #sanji fanfic #zoro fanfic #x reader #turtletaub fics

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sapphos-corner · 3 months ago

Text

As the Seasons Pass Ch. 1 "Mid-July" ☆ A sapphic fiction story

Synopsis: Genie has been struggling with a homoerotic friendship. She meets a girl named Valerie through this friend. Tonight is the first time she's hanging out with Valerie one-on-one. Platonically of course. This story is gonna be a very slow burn, so this chapter surrounds the first stage of building the dynamic that Genie and Valerie will have. This is part one, but there is a background chapter that surrounds the homoerotic relationship Genie has. If you'd like to check that out, it's linked in my pinned post.

Contains: Nervous Genie. Car ride. General sapphic nervousness and awkwardness. Concert. Slice of life. Indirect kisses:p

Warnings: Although there isn't smut in this chapter, this story as a whole is not for minors. If you're not 18+ you are not welcome here, I mean this in the nicest way.

Word count: 1.6K

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I wake up to another instagram notification, a DM from Valerie.

@/Valthehuman: Wait would you want to hang out? Like before the next group hangout? There's a show tomorrow night at that bar you were asking about, if ur free/interested in going. I have an extra ticket too?

@/Geniesirius: Yeah omg, that sounds so fun, just let me know what time! :)

There's a bubbly, fluttery feeling rising in my chest that actually makes me excited to get out of bed. I head out to the kitchen and make breakfast.

My phone lights up and I pick up my phone with a record amount of speed. It's not Val. It's one of the scam texts about the election. I roll my eyes and put my phone down.

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I'm in the middle of drawing a cute little neurographic-style page when my phone lights up again. This time it's her.

@/Valthehuman: Awesome! It starts at 7:30, do u wanna meet there or I can pick you up? It’s kind of a hard place to find unless you know what you’re looking for.

@/Geniesirius: Yeah that would be so nice actually, i hate driving into downtown :)) I'll send my address over in a sec!

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I'm really anxious getting ready. Val's so cool and effortless. I've gone through three different outfits, I probably should have asked about the vibe.

I grip my phone and start scouring Val's page in an attempt to find the band that's playing tonight. I click on her tagged photos and scroll a bit, revealing a picture of a crowd with Val front line and center. Her eyes were wide and she had the biggest smile I've ever seen on anyone's face.

The caption reads: "So lucky to have had some of my closest friends at my first show." Posted by @/jennadummy.

After going through her feed, I see she's the drummer of this band. I watch a few of the reels and it seems to be a pretty eclectic alternative band. This is good. Everyone at the shows dress pretty casual and the crowds run pretty small.

I settle on some black cargo pants and a lavender babytee. I accessorize with some silver jewelry and spritz some peach perfume on my neck and wrists. She's picking me up in an hour and I feel a ball of anxiety building in the pit of my stomach.

I keep telling myself it's not a big deal, because it's not. I'm just hanging out with a new person and making a friend. It's not like im going on a tinder date with a stranger or something. It's literally not even a thing it's just a stupid little hangout in a public place. Oh and a forty-five minute drive with someone that's had maybe six minutes of screentime in my life so far. Fuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck fuck what are we even gonna talk about for forty-five minutes?

I pick my phone up again and start stalking her socials again, I have to find at least one thing I can resort to if things feel too quiet and weird. She has the link to her spotify in her bio, truly a godsend. She only has one playlist titled 'everything' and it's over two thousand hours long. I scroll through and see we have a ton of bands and artists in common, I click through and sample the songs and artists I don't know. All niche, obscure bands that have under a thousand monthly listeners.

In the middle of my venture, a random number texts me.

234-555-6789: Hey it's Valerie, I was wondering if you wanted to pick up some food or snacks or something to eat on the way? If so, I'll probably be on my way now, if that's okay?

I forgot we exchanged numbers earlier, my heart almost jumped out of my chest when I saw it was her. The stress I'm feeling is borderline ridiculous, but no matter how hard I try to overcome it, I can't help but turn into a puddle of nerves before I hang out with literally anyone, even (correction: especially) Sabrina.

Me: Yeah, that sounds awesome actually. I'm ready to go too so just lmk when ur on the way:))

She leaves a heart on the message and lets me know she'll be here in ten minutes.

It feels like a mass of knots are winding and tightening in the pit of my stomach. My hands are shaky and my breath is shorter than it usually is when I get nervous before going out.

I head outside two minutes before her ETA so she won't have to wait on me. She pulls up and her car is insane. It looks brand new, and it's a dark blue color.

I walk around to the passenger and open the door.

"Heeeeey, You look good." The smile on her face is major and she reaches over for me and pulls me into a tight hug.

"Hey, thanks for inviting me, it's good to see you again. You look really good too." I find that last part couldn't help but come out fast paced and slightly jumbled. She's wearing an olive green oversized button up, which is of course, unbuttoned. Underneath is a white tank top and her pants are dark and baggy. Her hair is shaggy and reflects the light, complimenting its natural black color with an orange and yellow shine. Her eyes are decorated with smudged black eyeliner, and her lip tint is a neutral brown color. If her appearance could be summed up in one word, it would be 'androgynous.'

She drives with one hand and sings under her breath so softly you'd never know she was doing it unless you paid attention. Which I'm totally not, by the way.

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"My passenger door is kinda fucked up right now, so I gotta open it from outside."

She turns the wheel so smoothly, and she purses her lips as she parks. When she stops the car she develops a wide smile.

"Parked right on the first try swag"

I feel my face scrunch as I laugh through my nose. "should we call bella hadid?"

Mutual laughter erupts and she opens the driver door and steps out of the car. She speed walks over to my side and pulls the handle with a slight urgency. She walks a little quicker than me, opening the door to the gas station before I can reach it. As I walk past her, I am greeted with a lightly cologned smell. It's very woody with some light notes of vanilla.

"Thanks. You're so chivalrous."

"You gotta be while courting."

I turn my head towards her and we make eye contact. She starts shaking her head quickly. Her eyebrows lifted, her eyes squinted, Her lips upturned and pushed together awkwardly.

"I'm.. kidding.." She says semi-convincingly. For some reason a slight sense of grief stirs in my chest. Random.

"I wouldn't be mad if you were."

"You're bad at flirting."

"Me? You're...awful. Jesus. What kind of trouble are you trying to get into in the seven eleven, though?"

"Oof i don't know. Perhaps an energy drink and something sweet. How 'bout you?"

"I think I'm gonna opt for the same."

I settled on the cherry limeade celsius and dark chocolate covered pretzels. She got the sour patch kids 'ghost energy' and a bag of jolly ranchers.

"Do you like these?" She gestures to her drink.

"I've never tried it, but sour patch kid flavor is...borderline unhinged."

"Wanna try it?" She cracks the can and hands it over to me. I reciprocate the gesture and we switch cans.

"Wow this is actually really good." She lifts her eyebrows and nods her head in approval.

"This tastes radioactive. I'm getting one every time I go to the gas station now."

We re-swap and she starts back on the road.

"Would you mind handing me a jolly rancher?"

"Yeah, of course. What's your favorite flavor?"

"Blue raspberry! How about you? You can have as many as you want, by the way."

"Cherry for sure. Blue raspberry is up there too, obviously."

I grab one of each and slip hers in between her pointer and middle fingers on the wheel.

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She opens the door for me as we step into the club. The entire place is consumed by red lighting, the walls are covered in art and it's a pretty good turnout.

"You wanna drink!?" She nods her head towards the bar

"Yeah for sure!"

She grabs my hand as we walk through the crowd. Her hand is cold and soft.

"So how do you know the band!?"

"I've known the drummer since second grade! we're still good friends!"

"Do any of your other friends from school come to the shows!?"

"Yeah, our friend group from high school comes to the shows, the ones that still live nearby, at least! They should all be here tonight though!"

"That's pretty cool!"

"What do you want to drink!?"

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She insisted on covering the tab. I got an amaretto sour and she got a lemon drop martini. We walk over to the crowd and she scans the area.

Val leans in close to my ear "They're over here."

She grabs my hand again and leads me to her friend group. She introduces me, and then tells me everyone's name. I repeat it to myself in my head until it sticks. Serena, Polly, Annie, Jolene, Belle, Bridget. Serena, Polly, Annie, Jolene, Belle, Bridget. Okay, got it. I think. The group and I exchange hellos and I catch Belle smile and raise her eyebrows at Valerie. As subtly as possible I look to Val, who blushes and slyly shakes her head.

The band comes out and the crowd 'woos' in encouragement. Jenna starts screaming, which absolutely catches me off guard. The group laughs along with the rest of the audience and the singer steps up to the mic. Val turns to me and whispers in my ear. "She's just like that, it's part of her shtick."

After a short and sweet introduction, the music starts.

I catch a glimpse of Val dancing. I can't help but smile, she looks so happy. Her black eyeliner is a little more smudged than before and her eyes glitter in the red lighting. I think this has crossed the line from a glimpse to a stare as I notice Polly in the background furrow her eyebrows and cross her arms.

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"You came on the right night, that was one of their best sets ever."

She speeds past me as we get closer to the car, opening the door for me.

#lesbian #friends to lovers #slow burn #sapphic fiction #oc story

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callsign-magnolia · 10 months ago

Text

I Hope You Dance // Ch. 54

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count: 5.9k

Chapter 53 | Masterlist

June faded into July and Independence Day came fast. Bradley was tired but still wanted to celebrate so we managed to put together a barbecue for mid July. “Can I help you honey?” He asked as I set the ribs up to marinate. “Roo, I’ve got it.” I said and he sighed. “I just feel like I’m useless.” He said and I gave him a sad smile. “Well, you’re not useless. In fact, I know how you can help me.” I said and the left side of his lips twitched up. “And what would that be?” He asked. “Come snuggle on the couch with me. I’m freezing.” I said and he looked at me confused. “Freezing?! It’s literally ninety-seven degrees outside!” He said and I shrugged. “And it’s seventy-six in here and I’m freezing.” It was true. Since I came home I’ve been in one of his old hoodies and leggings. I smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him from the counter and towards the couch. “Well, you have lost quite a bit of weight.” He said and I turned and smiled at him. “You think?” I asked and he nodded. “Yeah, you probably weigh less than ten pounds now, so that means I can lift you!” He said and acted like he was going to pick me up but I just laughed and stopped him. We laid on the couch, my back to his chest and he kissed the back of my head. “If we nap now we’ll never sleep tonight.” He said and I nodded. “Yeah, but we’ll be up late tomorrow so tweaking our schedule for one night won’t hurt.” I said and it wasn’t long before I heard him snoring.

The next day I managed to put Bradley to work setting up the table outside with a tablecloth and some decor I bought. He finished that quickly and around noon the doorbell started ringing and Rooster was more than happy to get up and answer it. “Hey Mav.” He said and immediately Mav stepped in and hugged him tightly. “Good to see you, Rooster.” He said and pulled away, allowing Penny to hug him. “I managed to talk him down from tackling you. How are you holding up?” She asked as she let go of him. “I’m okay. I get tired easily so Mags has me doing simple things.” He said and she chuckled. “Well at least she’s not coddling you.” She said and he nodded. “Hey Rooster.” Amelia said, stepping past him and heading for the dogs. “Hey kid.” He greeted back, making the teen roll her eyes. Mav stayed in the living room with Rooster and Penny joined me in the kitchen. “I brought the pie.” She said and I smiled at her. “Thank you! I was glad everyone else offered to bring sides. Makes this a lot easier.” I said and she agreed. “Wow, you really have lost weight.” She said and I smiled at her. “I know! I feel the best I’ve felt in a long time.” I said. “The only downside is I’m constantly freezing in this house. I’m glad Rooster is like a heater in bed or else I’d freeze.” She chuckled at me just as Coyote came in with a huge bowl. “One order of nana’s potato salad!” He said, setting the bowl down next to me. I pulled the lid off and moaned. “Oh my god that smells divine.”

Soon everyone arrived and we got everyone to the table outside. Most everyone had a beer besides Bob, Penny, Rooster and I. Rooster wanted one but he can’t with all of his medications and if he can’t then I won’t. “Hey guys.” Rooster said standing and everyone looked at him. “I just want to say how much I appreciate you all doing the things you have done for us, not just during this, but during everything else too. Staying with Mags while I was gone, looking out for us-” “Yeah yeah, we get it! You love us and we’re amazing!” Payback interrupted and everyone chuckled, including Bradley. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I was trying to say.” He said and I laughed as he sat next to me again. Soon we all dug into the food, just enjoying being around each other. But soon the food was put away and most of the team made their way out to the beach behind the house while the rest of us dragged some chairs into the sand and watched. Penny, Amelia, Nat and I were talking before I turned to Rooster. He was leaning on the armrest of his chair with his head in his hand.

“Roo, honey? Are you okay?” I asked and he sighed. “Yeah.” I gave him a sad smile. “You want to go out there?” I asked and he nodded. “I do. But I know that’s a bad idea.” He said. “I’m sorry, Roo.” I said and he shook his head. “It’s not your fault. If I wasn’t at risk of popping a stitch then I would.” He said and I hummed, running my fingers through his curls. “We’ll do another get together to celebrate you getting better and then you can kick their asses when we play.” I said and he chuckled. “Yeah, I think Hangman needs to be taken down a notch.” He said and I chuckled. The day was peaceful and soon everyone went home, and poor Rooster was falling asleep on the couch when Mav and Penny went to leave. “Well, we better go. I think we’ve almost overstayed our welcome.” Penny said and Mav agreed. “Yeah, he’s been fighting sleep like a toddler.” Mav whispered and I chuckled. “Yeah, I better get him to bed.” I said and he nodded. “Goodnight, Magnolia.” He said as they walked out. “Goodnight.” With that, I shut and locked the door before turning to Rooster. “Bradley.” I said and his eyes fluttered open as he hummed. “Everyone is gone. Let’s get to bed.” He groaned but soon I managed to pull him up and we made our way upstairs where I helped him strip and he laid back in bed. “Snuggle Mags.” He said, making grabby hands at me and after a minute I managed to strip myself and crawl in bed next to him. “Did you have fun today?” I asked and he hummed. “I’m glad I lived to see it.” He muttered before drifting off. “Me too, honey.”

A few more weeks went by and we were now in early August and officially five months away from the wedding. "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" I asked Bradley as I buttoned my khaki pants. I made a mental note to get new pants since these are getting so loose. "Mav said I could have off any time I needed for your doctor's appointments." He just smiled up at me from his spot in the bed. He had grabbed my pillow, tucking it under his chin as he laid on his stomach long ways on the bed. "I'll be fine, honey. Penny said she'd drop me off and pick me up. I will call you on your lunch break to tell you what the doctor says." I sighed as I sat on the bed and put my socks on. "It's not that I don't want you there. I’m hoping that before I come back and after I'm cleared we could take a trip somewhere." He said as he wrapped his arm around my waist I turned to him excitedly. "Really? Where to?" I asked and he chuckled, placing a kiss on my arm. "Anywhere you wanna go, pretty girl. Why don't you think on it?" I nodded, kissing him. "Okay." I said, excitement seeping out in my words. I finished getting ready as Rooster went downstairs and made my coffee. "You will call me, right?" I asked as he met me at the door. "Yes, honey. I promise." He handed me my coffee and kissed me. "Have a good day!" He said as I started for my jeep "I love you!" He yelled out as I opened the door. I blew him a kiss and smiled widely at him before climbing in. The drive to base was uneventful but as soon as I parked Mav had me in his sights. "What are you doing here? Isn't Rooster's doctor appointment today?" I nodded, slightly annoyed at being questioned so early. "Yes, but he said he was fine with Penny dropping him off.” He wants me to save my PTO because he wants us to take a trip before he comes back." He stopped but nodded.

"Will you tell me what the doctor said?” I nodded. "Of course, Mav. We'll always keep you updated. He smiled and nodded before leaving me to put my things away. We spent all morning in the classroom, and I was feeling anxious. I knew Bradley would be fine, but I knew he was getting frustrated being at home all the time. After what felt like a lifetime it was eleven and time for lunch. We were walking out when Mav turned to me with a smile. "Magnolia. Someone wants to talk to you." Mav said as he walked into the hangar. I walked inside to see Bradley standing there, a large bouquet of roses and baby's breath and a bag of food from my favorite deli. "What are you doing here? Were you released to drive?" I asked as I rushed over, gently hugging him and kissing his cheek. "Doctor released me to drive, and I missed you so I wanted to have lunch with you and bring you some flowers."

My bottom lip jutted out as I took the roses. "You're amazing." We walked down to the cafeteria, joining the team who was so happy to see Bradley. Soon everyone got up and I was eating up every last second I could. “So, I have another doctor’s appointment in the morning.” My eyes widened as I looked at him. “Wh-what?” I asked, growing nervous. “It’s a urologist appointment. To check my sperm count.” I blinked at him for a second before tearing up. “Oh, honey. I wasn’t trying to make you cry.” He said, pulling me in so he could kiss my forehead. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” I said. “Maybe because we might get answers?” He asked and I nodded. “Yeah. It’s just crazy to me that we went so long without any form of protection and I didn’t get pregnant. I just want to figure this out so that way, after the wedding, we’ll know what we need to do.” I said and he nodded, kissing my head again. “Me too. Now go, Mav will kill me if I hold you up too long.”

The next morning Bradley drove us to his appointment and he was so excited to drive. It's a freedom he felt like he lost for a while. Once there, we got him checked in and waited. I noticed he kept rubbing his palms on his jeans. So I reached out, taking his hand in mine. "Hey." I whispered. "What's going through your head?" I asked. My free hand reaching behind him and rubbing his back. "What if something is wrong with me? What if i'm the reason we can't have kids on our own?" I could see the fear in his eyes. "Look at me." I said. His warm brown eyes glistened with tears as his gaze met mine. "I will still love you no matter what." I told him. "Bradshaw?" A nurse called. He squeezed my hand as we stood and didn't let go as we were led into a room. The nurse took his vitals before pulling vials from a drawer. I watched Bradley who watched the nurse and he jumped when she pulled out the needle. "Woah!" He said as she turned towards him. "She has to get blood work, honey." I said, squeezing his hand that still held mine. He took a deep breath before turning towards me and squeezing his eyes shut. "Just do it." The nurse chuckled and stuck him. After a second his face relaxed. "Have you done it yet?" He asked, "I'm getting the last tube now." After a minute she was done and wrapped his arm up. "Alright, now we need a semen sample.” She said and grabbed a cup. "Here's the cup, do you need magazines or anything?" She asked and he blushed. I could tell he was flustered by the way he looked at me. "Um, n-no thanks. I have pictures and videos of my wife."

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh at him. He just squeezed his eyes shut, questioning everything he said. The nurse held out her own laugh. "Many men prefer pictures of their wives over magazines." He just swallowed, nodded and she led him out of the room. After a minute she came back. “I love when they get flustered, it's hilarious." She said, making me laugh. "As soon as he's done I'll bring him back to you." With that she left. After a couple minutes my phone dinged with a text from Bradley. 'Help me out here?’ He asked. I bit my lip, still scared that someone hacked my phone. But I decided to say 'screw it’. I double checked that the door was closed before I quickly lifted my shirt and snapped a picture, sending it to him. Another few minutes pass by before the nurse brings him back in. "How do you feel?" I asked, smirking at him. He sat next to me and crossed his arms over his chest. “I haven't had to do that since we got together.” I just giggled at him. “Not even on deployment?” I asked. He just shook his head "Didn't want to. I just wanted to wait till I got home." Now, he finally turned to me, tossing his arm around the back of my chair.

“But it makes me think about all the ways I'm going to ruin you once I can get you in our bed." My face flushed, but we jumped apart when the door opened. "Mr. Bradshaw?" He asked, holding his hand out to Bradley. "Yes, sir. "He shook his hand before turning to me. "Mrs. Bradshaw." Neither of us made a move to correct him and honestly, it made me feel giddy to hear someone call me Mrs Bradshaw. "I'm Dr. Evans." He said as he sat across from us. "Nice to meet you." I said, my fingers intertwining with Bradleys. "You as well." He said, nodding at me. "All of your blood work looks good." We nodded. That was something we already knew. With all of his doctor's appointments recently, we were well in tune to his current health state." It will be about twenty-four hours before we have the results of your sperm count. So tomorrow, we'll give you a call with your results." We both nodded. "So what should we do next if everything is normal?" Bradley asked, squeezing my hand. "The next steps I would suggest would be for Mrs. Bradshaw to find a gynecologist. Our next steps for Mr. Bradshaw would be some ultrasounds. But if we don't find anything, then you'll still need more testing Mrs. Bradshaw." He said and I nodded. Bradley squeezed my hand, kissing my knuckles as he did. "Thank you, Doctor." With that we checked out and left. "Do you think Mav would be mad if I stole you for a breakfast date?" Bradley asked as we got into the elevator. I smiled up at him, tossing my arms around his shoulders.

"For all he knows, we waited forever." I said and he raised an eyebrow at me." You'd lie to your superior?" He asked and I nodded. "If it means I get to spend more time with you. I will." I pulled him into a kiss, his hands falling to my waist. The elevator dinged and it took us a second to pull away. An older gentleman stepped on, giving us a soft smile. We stood in silence for a moment before the man spoke up. "Can I give you some advice?" He asked. I was tempted to say 'no', not really wanting a stranger to advise me on my relationship. But he didn't wait for a response. "Never stop kissing her." He said to Bradley and we both visibly relaxed. "Because one day she won't be here." My heart clenched at his words. "My wife died at forty-three. It's been twenty-two years since she passed. Not a day goes by where I don't wish I kissed her or held her more." With that the elevator doors opened. "You two have a nice day.” With that he smiled at us and walked out. Bradley and I managed to get out a ‘you too’ before he was gone. “Damn.” Rooster muttered. "What?" I asked, looking up at him. He continued to stare out of the doors the man exited through. "He just reminded me of my mom. She used to say things like that a lot." Tears filled his eyes and I wrapped my arms around his waist. "You okay?" I asked him and he nodded "I'm great.” He said. "Now let's go have ourselves a breakfast date." Our date went great, and I showed up on the tarmac later than I planned. The next day I was antsy. Rooster should be hearing about his results today and I was dying to know. But he didn't mention it during any of our conversations throughout the day.

I drove home in silence, my mind racing with thoughts of what his results were. What if he was totally normal? Then that made me the problem. I knew that Bradley wanted kids just as much as I did, and I hated being the reason he couldn’t have that. Once I got home, I slowly climbed out of the jeep, grabbing my duffel bag and making my way inside. As soon as I opened the door I was shocked. “Roo?” I yelled out. I could smell something from the kitchen and the house was absolutely spotless. “In here, honey!” I set my bag down, walking back towards the kitchen. “Hi honey.” He said as I walked in. He placed the lid on a tupperware container and slid it into the fridge. “What are you up to?” I asked as I leaned against the doorway. “Just marinating some steaks for dinner.” He said, walking over. “Oh so you’re cooking dinner?” I asked and he nodded, grabbing the top of the doorframe and leaning over me, his big brown eyes looking down at me. “I am. Think of it as my way of saying thank you for taking care of me.” He said and I shook my head. “You don’t have to thank me, Roo.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my chin on his chest so I could look up at him. “Yeah, but you deserve it and I won’t take no for an answer.” He said and I giggled. I opened my mouth to ask if the doctor called when he stopped me.

“Why don’t you go relax and shower. You stink of jet fuel anyway.” He said as he scrunched his nose in disgust. I scoffed and smacked his stomach. “You love it.” I said and he chuckled. “Why don’t you join me?” I asked, my fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Oh, that is so tempting.” He replied, leaning down till his lips were close to mine. “But I can’t.” He said and I furrowed my brows in confusion. “Why not?” I asked. “The doctor hasn’t released me for physical activity yet. So I can’t fuck you like you deserve.” He practically had me melting into a puddle. “It’s so hard to resist when I have you in the shower, but another two weeks and the doctor should release me to live my life like I was.” He said before he pulled me flush against him. “And trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed as soon as I get the all clear.” He said and I grinned at him. “Trust me, I cannot wait.” I said. “So go shower and by the time you get out I should be putting the steaks on.” He said, turning me around and smacking my ass, making me squeal.

So I decided to listen and go take a shower. I took my time and slipped into one of his old t-shirts when I got out, forgoing panties. I put my hair in a clip before walking downstairs to find Bradley in the kitchen seasoning asparagus and mashing potatoes. “Oh, so you can do more than make a reuben?” I asked and he chuckled. “You haven’t properly given me an opportunity to show off my cooking skills.” He turned to face me and he groaned, his head falling back. “Honey.” He whined. “What?” I asked, stepping closer. “You’re killing me.” He said and I smirked at him, pressing myself against his arm. “That was my plan.” I whispered in his ear. “So, do you need help with anything?” I asked and he shook his head. “You can help me by sitting on the counter and looking pretty.” He said and I couldn’t help but giggle and pull myself up onto the counter next to the stove. “It’s the one time I will sit still and look pretty for you.” I said and he chuckled.

While he made dinner I kept trying to bring up his test results but he always changed the subject and by the time we sat down I was frustrated. “Just tell me what the doctor said.” I blurted out and he looked at me with wide eyes. “Sorry, It’s just been driving me crazy all day!” I said and he nodded before swallowing his food. “The doctor did call.” He said, sitting back in his seat. “And?” I asked. He gave me a small smile and held his hand out for me to take. I returned the smile and took his hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “He said everything was normal.” He said and I could tell by the look on his face that there was more. “What else?” I asked and he sighed. “He said things are actually better than normal and that if everything was fine, you probably would’ve been pregnant a long time ago.” He said and I stared at him for a second before taking a deep breath. “O-oh. Um, well that’s good that everything is, um, fine.” I stuttered out, fighting back the tears. “C’mere pretty girl.” He said, tugging on my hand so I stood and walked over to him, straddling his lap as he pulled me against him tightly.

He hugged me to him and the dam broke. Tears soaked the back of his shirt and I’m pretty sure my cries were making his ears ring, but he didn’t care. I knew he didn’t. He just held me against him and rocked us back and forth until I finally calmed down. “I’m sorry.” I said as I pulled back and wiped my eyes. “Don’t apologize. For crying or for the fact it hasn’t happened yet.” He said. “I knew you’d put the blame on yourself and I was trying to think of a way to tell you without making it seem that way. But the truth seemed best.” He said and I nodded, sniffling. “This is not your fault in any way. It just hasn’t happened yet. No one has said it’s impossible, just that it may be a little harder for us, okay?” He asked and I nodded. “Okay.” I muttered. “I love you pretty girl. I hope you know that.” He said and I nodded. “I do.” I said and he kissed me gently. “I love you, even if we’re a family of two or a family of twelve.” He said and I laughed quietly. “Who said we were gonna have that many babies?” I asked and he laughed. “You said you wanted as many as we could get.” He said and I rolled my eyes. “There will eventually be a cut off.” I responded and he chuckled. “I thought we were going to replace the Phillies team.” He said with a sly grin. “No,” I responded. “And if we were to replace any baseball team it would be the Braves. We’ve had this conversation before.” He just smiled and kissed me. “I love you, Mags.” I smiled and hugged him, feeling a lot better in his arms. “I love you too, Roo.”

The following day I called my gynecologist and scheduled an appointment in hopes we could get more answers. “Have you thought about where you would want to visit?” Rooster asked and I looked at him, confused. “Visit?” I asked. “ Yeah. Remember? I asked if you wanted to take a trip before I came back to work.” It was like a lightbulb in my brain went off. “Oh yeah!” I said. “I forgot about that.” I told him, going back to brushing my teeth before bed. “Well, have you thought of any place in particular you wanted to go to?” He asked and I shook my head. I finished brushing my teeth and cleaned my face before making my way to the bed. “No, my brain has been a little preoccupied.” He smiled at me, holding the covers up for me to slip under them. “Well we need to think of something fast, I’ll be back at work before you know it.” He said and I grinned, sliding closer to him and wrapping my arms around him. “And I can’t wait.” I said, kissing his cheek. We laid there in the dark and I was slowly drifting off when he spoke up. “What about Tennessee?”

I furrowed my brows and looked up at him. “Well that’s vague.” I said and he chuckled. “You said your grandmother has land out there.” I nodded. “Yeah but that’s all it is, just land.” He hummed. “We could drive out and take the airstream.” He said but I shook my head. “It'll take us 3 days at the earliest to get out there.” I responded. “Well, what if we flew and stayed at a hotel?” He asked and I thought. This was in a tiny town in the middle of the smoky mountains, it didn’t exactly have a Hilton. “There is a little Inn in town. I can call tomorrow and see if they have anything available.” I said and he nodded. “Why don’t we go two weeks from now? I’ll be free to do anything and everything I want.” He said, his voice going an octave lower as he pulled me close and nudged his nose against mine. “I’ll call tomorrow.” I said and he nodded before pressing his lips to mine.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bob asked as I got up from the table we were eating at. “I gotta make a call.” I said as I walked outside. I found the number for the Inn and pressed the call button. “Black Bear Inn, how may I help you?” A thick feminine southern accent answered the phone. “Hi, I was wondering if you have any rooms available for the night of the nineteenth and twentieth?” I said as I crossed my free arm over my chest. “Let me just look.” She said and it was quiet. “I have our sunset room available. It’s got its own balcony and you get the most beautiful view of the sky up there.” She said and I nodded. “We’ll take it.” I said, a grin growing on my face. “Alright and how many adults and children will be with you?” She asked. “Just me and my fiance. No kids.” I replied. “Alright, the total for two nights is two hundred and eighteen dollars. I’ll just need some info and a card number. I gave her the info and made my way back to the hangar. Lunch was over now and I knew everyone was headed back there.

“Where did you disappear to?” Hangman asked as he slid up next to me. “Just booking a trip for Rooster and I.” I said and he chuckled. “Where to? If he has anything to do with it, it’ll be Hawaii.” He said and I chuckled because usually, he’d be right. “No actually, we’re going to the Great Smoky Mountains.” I said and he furrowed his brows. “Wasn’t that where your grandmother lived?” He asked and I nodded. “Yeah, the house burned down not long after she died. But it’ll be nice to go back out there for a weekend.” I said and he nodded as we walked in. “Hey Mav.” I said, walking over to him. He turned to me and smiled. “Ready for your hop?” He asked and I nodded. “I am, but I’m going to need next Friday off.” I said and he raised a brow. “That’s a little short notice isn’t it?” He asked and I nodded. “It’s the trip Rooster and I are going on. We’ll just be gone for the weekend.” I said as I pulled my helmet from its bag. “I’ll see if I can swing it.” He said with a wink. “You better. I just paid for it.” He just laughed at me. “If you can beat me in the sky, I can guarantee it.” He said and I held my hand out for him to shake. He stared at it for a moment before grasping my hand and shaking it. “You’re on.”

“You really beat Mav in a one on two?” Bradley asked as I reheated some leftovers. “You say that like you’re surprised.” I gave him an angry look as I turned to face him and put my hand on my hip. “What?! No! No, honey I know you can do these things I was just… just…” I started laughing at his stuttering. “It’s okay, honey. I surprised myself too.” The panic washed from his face and he visibly relaxed. “Don’t scare me like that.” He said and I giggled. “Oh come on, it was fun!” I said and he shook his head. “Yeah, for you! I was scared!” He said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “Oh but I did get the nineteenth off and I booked us a room at the Inn in town.” I said and he grinned at me. “Then I will book our flight.” He said and I turned to face him, my arms going around his shoulders. “And I will call Penny and see if Amelia can watch the dogs while we’re gone.” He nodded and kissed me before disappearing from the room.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Penny’s number. “Hello?” She answered. “Hi Penny.” I said as I grabbed some spices from the cabinet. “Hey! What are you up to?” She asked. “Making dinner.” I replied as I sprinkled some seasonings on the brussel sprouts I was putting in the oven. “Me too.” She responded. “So I called with a question.” I said and she chuckled. “Shoot.” “Bradley and I are going to Tennessee on the nineteenth and we’ll fly back on the twenty-first, and we were wondering if Amelia would be free to watch the dogs?” I asked. “I think so, but I’ll double check with her. Can I get back to you?” She asked and agreed. Soon we said our goodbyes and dinner was almost ready. I quickly finished it up and Bradley came to join me at the table. “So can Amelia do it?” He asked and I shrugged. “Penny is going to ask and get back with me.” I said and he nodded, pulling my chair out. “What if she can’t?” He asked before he grinned at me. “We could let Coyote stay with them.” I glared at him after I sat down. “I love Coyote. I do. But the man does not know the first thing about taking care of two dogs.” I said and he chuckled. “Yeah, he always struck me as more of a cat guy myself.” He said and we laughed because it wasn’t true. “We could ask Bob to do it, or Nat and Hangman.” I suggested and he raised his eyebrows at me. “I do not want those two fucking in our bed.” He said and I rolled my eyes. “We do have a guest room, you know.”

Penny called me the next day so I wandered over to Nat and Hangman. “Can I ask y’all a favor?” They both turned to me with a raised brow. “I don’t know. I’m not one to do favors.” Hangman said and I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Bradley and I are going out of town next Friday and we’ll be gone all weekend. Amelia usually watches the dogs but she can’t this time so I was wondering if y’all would?” I asked and they immediately nodded. “Of course.” Nat said and I smiled at her before yanking her into a hug. “Thank you!” I said excitedly. Now that I knew everything was taken care of I was getting excited about our trip. After an exhausting day at work I showered and went home to Bradley. As soon as I hit the door he turned and smiled at me from his spot on the couch. “Welcome home.” He said. He was lounging on the couch in only his boxers and he opened his arms for me and I slowly laid on top of him. “How was your day?” He asked before kissing my head. “Exhausting.” I huffed and he chuckled. “Do you need a nap?” He asked and I nodded against his chest. “Yes, now don’t move and snuggle with me.” I demanded and he just chuckled, holding me tightly to him.

I woke up about half an hour later and didn’t dare move. I was comfy and didn’t want to let him go. So I laid there, fighting to keep my eyes open until I felt Bradley hand rubbing my back. “You awake?” I asked and he hummed. “Do we have to move?” He asked and I shook my head. “Nope.” I said and he chuckled. “Why don’t we order pizza for dinner?” He asked, grabbing his phone. “I love that idea.” I said as he put the order in. “Oh, Amelia can’t watch the dogs so Hangman and Phoenix will.” I said and he sighed. “They’re sleeping in the guest room.” He said and I rolled my eyes. “Yes, they know that.” I said and he chuckled. “So I guess that means we should get packing because we leave at seven in the morning next Friday.” He said and I sighed. “You mean I still have to be up at the crack of dawn?” I asked and he chuckled. “You can sleep on the plane and in the car.” He said and I raised a brow at him. “You’re not driving from the airport.” I said and he raised a brow at me. “I’ve been released to drive!” He said and I huffed. “I know, but it’s a two hour drive to town from the airport and it’s all back roads.” I said and he sighed. “It’s just easier if I do it.” I said and he loudly sighed. “Fine! I guess I’ll let you drive even though you should be passenger princess.” He said and I laughed loudly. ��I’m the passenger princess here at home, I can handle driving for a weekend.” I said and he chuckled. “That’s okay, you’ll be at my mercy in the hotel room.” He said, kissing my neck. “Oh god, I can’t wait.” I moaned, melting into a puddle as I lay on him.

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Taglist: @mak-32 @rosiahills22 @fanboyswhore9 @kmc1989 @sunderland-6 @mygyn @halstead-severide-fan

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster #bradley bradshaw imagine #i hope you dance #maverick top gun #topgun #top gun #top gun imagine #pete maverick mitchell #natasha trace #phoenix #jake hangman seresin x reader #robert bob floyd

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missywritesfor7 · 8 months ago

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❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 13: Weight

Yoongi starts his day in an empty bed. He’s used to it. Hyeri had another early call and left a short couple of hours ago. He rolls out of bed to get himself ready for another day in the studio.

After washing up and getting dressed he’s greeted in the kitchen by a prepared lunch and a note. Hyeri made him a small lunch before she left and wrote a note letting him know how much she loves him. He smiles at the note and packs the lunch into his backpack.

By the time Yoongi gets to his car he’s already feeling weighed down with guilt. She’s so good to him. Too good. The entire drive to the studio he can’t stop thinking about how terrible he is for everything he’s done. Even if he can accept her forgiving him for what he’s done on tour, he can’t accept his temptation taking him away the moment he steps into his studio.

“I don’t deserve her love,” he mumbles taking another sip of liquor while he sits at his keyboard.

He’s plagued with guilt the entire day. He knows he could stop it though. He could put the bottle down and no longer feel guilty for sneaking drinks behind Hyeri’s back. He went the entire day before without a drink, it’s just that easy.

But he’ll just finish off the bottle he has first.

Or maybe it would make more sense to finish the other two bottles he has in his studio so he can start fresh tomorrow with no temptations.

“Fuck,” he sighs to himself once he takes the last sip of his final bottle. He’s managed to accomplish nothing since he’s been there other than finishing off 3 bottles of liquor and repeating to himself how much of a piece of shit he is.

His chest tightens when he sees a text from Hyeri. She tells him she’s on a short break and she just wanted to remind him how much she loves him. She then gushed about the features of her new car. He’s so fucked up and guilty that all he can manage to do is type out a short “I love you too” in response. His guilt is suffocating and only gets worse when Hobi stops by to chat.

Hobi hadn’t seen Yoongi since his disastrous night when they were all out to dinner. Aside from a few texts, he hadn’t been able to see the state Yoongi is really in. He decided to stop by since he was in the office working on his own projects. No matter how hard Yoongi tried, Hobi knew the moment the door opened that Yoongi was in rough shape.

“Hyung,” Hobi says helping Yoongi to his couch. “How much have you already had?”

“I want to start fresh tomorrow,” Yoongi says trying to stabilize his vision.

“What’s going on?” Hobi asks with pain and concern in his voice. “You said you stopped.”

“I did,” Yoongi sighs. “Every time I stop I start again.”

At this point Yoongi is too drunk to hold back. He’s guilty and ashamed and now he’s more sad and disappointed because seeing the look on Hobi’s face is breaking him inside. He can’t stand seeing those he love hurting so much because of him. They all love him but he feels all he’s giving them in return is pain and suffering.

“Get help,” Hobi says softly. “Hyung, we’re all here for you. We only want to see you happy and healthy and you haven’t been either of those things in a while. Talk to us. Tell us what you’re going through.”

Yoongi looks at Hobi’s concerned face and breaks at his soft words. He never thought things would get this way. It’s not what he wanted. He isn’t even sure what he wanted in the first place, but now he’s drowning in guilt because he’s done nothing but continuously hurt the ones he loves most.

“I’m sorry, Hoba,” Yoongi says holding back his tears. “I’ve done nothing but fuck shit up. She still loves me after everything I’ve done. You guys are still here when I pretty much fucked up the entire tour.”

“Hyung-“

“I mean it,” Yoongi continues. “I thought I could stop on my own. I did for a little bit. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to stop now.”

“You don’t have to try to do it on your own. We’re here for you. Hyeri too. You know all she wants is for you to be ok.”

Hobi’s words only strangle Yoongi more. Sneaking around is much worse than telling the truth. Hurting his brothers and the love of his life is worse than anything in his mind. He’s already done everything to ruin any trust anyone had in him and he would never forgive himself if he is successful in finally pushing them all away.

“I can’t face her like this,” Yoongi says anxiously.

“Yes you can,” Hobi encourages. “You have to be honest with her. With…all of us.” Hobi hangs his head trying to calm the sudden pang in his heart. Yoongi has never been so low and it hurts them all that he doesn’t feel like he can be honest with them. They know exactly how Hyeri feels.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi apologizes again. “I want to be better for all of you. Hoseok, please, what do I do? All I know is the bottle. I drank because she hurt me. I drank so I wouldn’t feel the hurt. I drank because I didn’t want to be myself because being myself hurts. I drank because I stopped drinking. Then I drank because I feel bad for drinking. I can’t stop it, Hoseok.” Yoongi puts his head in his hands and tries his hardest to keep from loudly crying out in pain.

“Tell her,” Hobi says. “Tell her everything you just told me. If you don’t do anything else, at least do that. She just wants to support you but she can’t if you don’t tell her you’re struggling. Me and the members…” he pauses at the amount of pain on Yoongi’s face. “We want to support you. We love you, hyung.”

Yoongi immediately breaks down. Those words carry so much weight coming from Hoseok, and it’s too much for Yoongi to bear. He can’t stop crying. He isn’t sure he’s ever cried this much in front of one of the members. Everything is burning inside him.

He needs to tell Hyeri. If he keeps holding on to this he’ll never be able to be at peace. She shows him so much love that the longer he goes hiding his relapse, the shittier he feels.

The next day, Hyeri has a slightly later call time. She’s able to sleep in a bit longer and wake up with Yoongi. While he gets himself ready for another day in the studio, she prepares breakfast for him. She packs another small bento lunch for him. Then she returns to him with endless kisses and words of adoration.

The more she does for him the guiltier he feels. He wanted to tell her while eating breakfast, but the sparkle in her eyes took his voice away. He wanted to say something when she packed the bento box into his backpack, but her enthusiasm for his work paralyzed him. He tried so hard to say something when she was kissing him goodbye, but the words were sucked away by her soft lips.

He spends the day in his studio going through a rollercoaster of emotions. She’s too good for him, he has to tell her. She’s going to be so disappointed in him for being a failure, he can’t tell her anything.

Later that evening, Hyeri tells him she has the next day off. The drama she’s shooting is ahead of schedule so she gets the next day to relax. She tells Yoongi in excitement hoping he could miss a day in the studio to spend the day with her. She admits that she had been wanting to try a restaurant that recently opened up in town and she made reservations for dinner and was hoping Yoongi would be able to at least take time for that. She then takes time to thank him for her car. She tells him of more features she discovered and ends her long text telling him how much she loves him and how happy he makes her. Her words only deepen the mass of guilt he’s carrying.

Of course he’s going to take the day to spend with her. The one day he managed to stay sober was when he was with her and doing things for her. If he’s sober, he can feel less like a piece of shit.

Or so he thought.

The day starts with Hyeri preparing breakfast. She brews him a cup of coffee and tells him to not lift a finger. He sits at the table as she makes a plate for him. She hums a sweet song as she floats around the kitchen plating the meal she put together for the two of them.

Yoongi loves Hyeri’s voice. He fell in love the first time he heard her. Her honey vocals never fail to soothe every part of his body. He feels so fucking terrible. Even after talking to Hobi yesterday he still stopped to grab another drink on his way home last night. He sat in his car and drank the entire midsized bottle before going inside and slipping into bed next to a sleeping Hyeri.

During breakfast Hyeri sits across from Yoongi and tells him all about her day yesterday. She’s happy and enthusiastic as if she’s completely forgotten the things that Yoongi has done. The things he’s still doing. He has so much guilt crushing him that he can hardly eat his food.

“Babe?” Hyeri asks from across the table. She began to notice the unease on his face and now she’s starting to worry. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi lies. “No,” he immediately confesses shaking his head. “I’m not ok, Hyeri. Baby you’re…” he pauses to repress a sob. “You’re so good to me,” he strains to say. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. You put up with me and I feel like I do nothing but give you reason after reason to be done with me.”

Hyeri isn’t sure what he’s going on about, but she reaches for his hand hoping to comfort him. He looks so pained it breaks her heart. He squeezes her hand and continues sobbing.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “I fucked up again and you don’t deserve to have to deal with my shit.”

“What?” She asks tilting her head. She doesn’t want to fear the worst, but she may not be able to control herself if he tells her he got a blowjob from another stranger. Of all things he could confess to her, she doesn’t think she can take that type of confession again.

“I had a drink last night,” he admits. “I had a few drinks during the day. Hyeri, the moment I went back to the studio I started drinking again and I’m such a terrible piece of shit for trying to hide it from you. I just don’t know what to do,” he cries. “You deserve nothing but the best, but I keep fucking up. I’m so sorry.” He releases her hand and hangs his head with tears flowing down to his plate.

“Yoongi,” she says softly. “Why are you just now telling me? I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you hide from me.” She has tears building up in her eyes and it only deepens Yoongi’s guilt.

“I can’t face you. It’s so hard,” he sobs. “I don’t want you to be disappointed in me but all I ever do is things that disappoint you. I’m so sorry, Hyeri.”

“Baby I’m not disappointed in you if you tell me you need help. I’m here for you and I’ll do anything to help you. I just want you to be ok.” She’s trying to mask the trembling in her voice, but it’s hard. He looks so broken and it twists her up inside.

Yoongi can hardly get another word out through his sobs. He hadn’t realized just how hard it would be for him to ask for help. It’s painful and it frustrates him that it’s so difficult. Hyeri gets up and comes around the table to wipe the tears running down his face. She’s never seen him so low. He leans into her chest and continues crying as she offers comfort.

“I’m here for you,” she says. “We can work through this together.”

It’s certainly not how Hyeri saw the day starting, though she can’t say she’s surprised that he’s fallen back into his habit. She knew the moment she saw the bottle of whiskey in his car missing that he was likely drinking heavily again. The other night was the first time she felt she may have been wrong. He hadn’t had a drink that day and she was so happy to finally see the Yoongi she’s known and missed. The gentle lover who caters to her every need and satisfies her every desire.

She appreciates him being honest and asking for help. It’s been hard for her to trust him and now that he’s opened up she hopes that means she won’t have to keep checking all of his hiding places for booze. The state he’s in is hard for her to watch so she’s determined to help him get back to his healthy self.

Hyeri had been excited about the dinner reservation she made for them, but she decided it would probably be better to stay home and order in. She doesn’t want him to have to face any temptations at the restaurant, and she knows he loves to have a good food and drink pairing. Instead she does as she always does. She takes care of Yoongi.

He told her about how much he had been drinking since he started back at the studio and her jaw is nearly on the floor. She had no idea just how much he’d been drinking until now. She’s surprised he’s even still alive and she almost wants to take him to see a doctor because she can’t imagine his liver is in good shape. Multiple large bottles of strong drinks in a day, everyday, is insane.

Yoongi cried so much he wasn’t sure he’d have any tears left in him, but they seemed to find a way anyhow. Whenever he thought of how lucky he is to have Hyeri supporting him he would start to feel guilty again. He wants to do this for her so he can finally be the person he feels she deserves.

Things start off surprisingly easy. He had nothing left and Hyeri made sure of it. When the thought would creep into his mind he would just look at the photo of her car after her accident. He continues carrying so much guilt because of that so it’s been one thing that can always bring him out of temptation and remind him why he’s doing this. He felt that method was working well and he found himself happier and freer.

With their comeback getting closer, the guys have begun working on choreography. With Yoongi’s newfound happiness from being alcohol free and back at a healthy weight he’s been getting through practices with ease. The guys are all more than happy to see Yoongi looking and feeling much better.

At home, Yoongi and Hyeri spend whatever free time they can together. It’s not much with their schedules, but they make it work as they always have. When Yoongi has to see Hyeri off he can’t help but smile at the necklace she’s wearing. The one he bought her in New York and she hasn’t taken it off since they made up. Hyeri smiles back happy that he finally started wearing the bracelet she got him again. He couldn’t put it on because it only made him feel guilty. Now it motivates him.

Yoongi not only has the love and support from Hyeri to keep him going, but his brothers as well. They’re beginning to shoot more and more content for their album and he’s doing everything to stay on his best behavior with cameras being around every corner. Still feeling guilty from his performances on tour, he feels much more responsible for being his best for this comeback. He owes it to them and to Army.

The guys have been ecstatic about Yoongi’s sobriety. Hobi told the rest of the guys about finding Yoongi drunk in his studio. They were preparing to pause all practices to have a tough talk with him. They were surprised and a little skeptical to see him show up for practice sober. They gave it time but realized he truly was completely sober. No hidden flasks or extended bathroom breaks. They decided maybe they didn’t need to have a talk with him.

He was outgoing during their Festa live. They had an assortment of food and drinks but Yoongi stuck to his diet and drinking tea. He read chat comments and stayed responsive to everything going on. Everyone feels so happy to see Yoongi this way. It even brings a tear to Hyeri’s eye as she watches the live during a break she has in schedules. He looks so happy and healthy and she’s never been more in love with him.

Yoongi feels amazing. He’s proud of himself, he and Hyeri are doing great, and he’s excited about the group’s comeback. He hasn’t had a drink in nearly two months and he’s been feeling so much lighter.

Their comeback announcement finally went out and now things are really starting to pick up. There’s lots of excitement and fans are just as anxious to hear their new music. Their schedules are getting busier each day. There’s so many interviews, promos, and appearances that keep rolling in.

Finally the day comes and BTS embarks on another comeback season. They hit the ground running with performances and appearances on tv shows. The response to their album has been very positive and it makes Yoongi feel even more invigorated. He hasn’t had this much energy in a long time.

After making their promotional visits to nearly everywhere in the country, they head off for a round of overseas promos in the US. This will be the first true test of his resistance. The last time he was in the US things were a complete wreck. He’s determined to prove to himself and everyone else that he can get through this trip, this time away from Hyeri, without having a drink. They’ll only be there for two weeks, so it can’t be that bad.

On their third day in the US, Yoongi feels like he has a fever. He doesn’t though. He’s perfectly fine. It’s just the drinks in the minibar are starting to infiltrate his dreams. He didn’t think he would suddenly struggle like this. He wanted to talk to Hyeri about it, but when he talked to her he couldn’t find the courage to do so. If he tells her he’s struggling with temptation then she may think he’s there doing all of the things he was doing last time. The drinking until he blacks out, the blowjobs from strangers, and the getting robbed. He doesn’t want her to worry when he’s so far away.

Two days later he’s waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He keeps trying to remind himself that it’s all in his head. He can’t make it. In the morning he calls Jin to his room and unloads everything in the minibar into his arms. He hasn’t had a single drink but he’s afraid he’ll break if he has to be around those drinks any longer.

Jin is happy Yoongi reached out instead of trying to face this alone. He takes the drinks and has a manager bring Yoongi the teas and juices he likes. Yoongi is grateful for Jin and he feels much better being honest about it. He even told Hyeri the next time he talked to her and she expressed how proud of him she is. To Yoongi that was a huge obstacle that he was able to overcome.

When they return home he feels a wave of relief. Nothing can stop him now. To him that was the hardest test he would have to face and he made it through. He feels unstoppable.

A/N: Hi everyone! First I’d like to say how much I appreciate each and every one of you for supporting this story, you guys are awesome! 💜 I want to let you all know that there will be no new chapter next Monday. Life decided to suddenly throw me a curveball and I just need a little time to simply rest and refresh. No worries though because I’ll be back on the April 1 with a new chapter. Take care of yourselves 💜😊

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bellofthemeadow · 1 year ago

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The Road Ahead - ch 1 | Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Next chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: Now that Frankie is finally home for good, you can start looking to the future

Notes: Welcome everyone! This is a repost from my former blog "mywordhaven" Because of some technical difficulties with my old account, I decided that it would be easier to repost my work with a brand-new blog. It's basically the same chapter as the last one, but I did make some edits (mostly syntax tbh). I will be posting the other two chapters later tomorrow and the fourth chapter should be up on sunday.

I hope that those who were following me on my old blog will join me here and I look forward to meeting newcomers!

At Long Last

You find yourself drowning in the itchiness of the comforter draped across you. Its green, worn fabric scratches your overwhelmingly sensitive skin. Surprisingly, today you welcome this sensation. The uncomfortable feeling anchors your mind to your bed, preventing it from floating away. In this moment, as you struggle to catch your breath, the scratchiness of the duvet reminds you where you are.

Your hands glide slowly across the rough fabric, savouring its familiar prickle. As you trace the worn contours, you recall when you saw that green monstrosity for the first time— It was the day you and Frankie had first moved in together all those years ago, right before his second long deployment. From the moment your eyes landed on it, you despised its discoloured hue as it clashed with your envisioned home's colour scheme. But you had kept silent. Frankie was leaving, and you didn't want your last moments together marred by a pointless argument over a green bedspread, no matter how dreadful it looked.

Now, ten years, 2 home relocations and a marriage later, that green duvet stubbornly remains an integral part of your bedroom decor, painfully clashing with the soothing blues surrounding it. Cornflower Blue, as the Home Depot employee had labelled it. You had agonized for days on which colour to go with, tirelessly checking Pinterest boards in the hope to find the perfect shade for your bedroom— A place you hoped would be a peaceful haven for Frankie. You spent weeks deliberating between countless swatches until finally settling on the current hue. Still, the horrid green persistently clashes with the blue you lovingly chose. Perhaps sage green would have been wiser, you think. But you had refused to admit defeat to an old, worn duvet and instead, had stubbornly gone with your first idea, horrid green be damned! But now, to your frustration, the bedroom remains an enduring battleground of colours, an ongoing struggle where different shades vie for supremacy in their quest to dominate the mood of the room.

Yet Frankie had never commented on the jarring combination of green and blue or their blatant mismatch. Perhaps you were making a mountain out of Molehill as you always seem to do. After all, your tendency to dramatize insignificant matters had been a subject of teasing within your family for as long as you could remember. Your brother had a habit of remarking on how seriously you took trivial matters. For your entire lives, nicknames like "Miss Prissy" or "Your Majesty" had been some of the less painful monickers thrown your way to highlight your over-sensitiveness. And while your family saw it as innocent sibling teasing, these remarks had a way of leaving you feeling bruised, unable to brush the comments off as easily as everyone expected you to.

Your hands pause above your bare, sweat-dampened chest, shaking your head to dispel the unwelcomed and intrusive thoughts. Instead, you focus on the blissful moment you’ve just shared with your husband. The memory of that bothersome, green eyesore and all its associated baggage swiftly retreats from your mind, vanishing as fleetingly as it arrived.

Finally, you begin to feel like the easy joys of savouring life are within your reach. With Frankie by your side, you start to envision a newfound freedom to engage in playful bickering, loud laughter, and sheer enjoyment of each other. The mundane moments hold an allure like never before, beckoning you to revel in their ordinary beauty. It's a longing for a life that seems quintessentially American, relentlessly depicted on daytime television—an idyllic portrait of a family, complete with devoted parents and their brood of 2.5 children, nestled in a cozy backyard. PTA meetings, a simple 9-to-5, soccer practices after school, and piano lessons on weekends create the repetitive rhythm of this picture-perfect existence. In your vision, the pinnacle of concern revolves around selecting the ideal flowers for the summer flowerbed. While some may deem it mundane, for you, it represents an exquisite slice of paradise.

Your husband Frankie had gone through years of military service, and he deserves nothing less, you think. Your hands still from their exploration as you think on the nightmares, anxiety, and fear that would consume Frankie. Even here with you, it sometimes felt as though he was still back there, never truly able to be completely present. Like on those many nights when Frankie was on temporary leave, he would wake up screaming and trashing in the middle of the night covered in cold sweats. Or when you guys would be out and about, and his eyes would shift with practiced zeal as if he was assessing for possible threats. Never really “turning off”. No amount of sweet reassuring words were ever able to soothe him when he found himself stuck within his own mind. Every time you tried to discuss these concerns with him, your husband would respond with calm reassurances, followed by a tender kiss on your forehead, urging you not to worry about him.

You shake your head, a resolute movement meant to, again, brush away the intrusive thoughts lingering on the periphery, refusing to let them dim this precious moment. You shift your gaze, fixating on the horizon of possibilities that stretches before you. It is a horizon where love acts as a healing balm, gently tending to the myriad wounds etched upon your husband's past. Your heart, though cautiously guarded, brims with a glimmer of hope, eager to embark on this journey together.

However, despite your best efforts, thoughts of your mother insidiously infiltrate your mind. Over the years, you've clashed with her on countless occasions, yet now, as a married woman, you think back on her warning before you got married. The resonating echo of her stern voice lingers in your thoughts, admonishing you to unwaveringly stand by your husband, regardless of the circumstances, and emphasizing that his happiness must always take precedence over everything else. Strangely, she never mentioned the reverse. With Frankie's return, you resolve to be more present, leaving daydreams behind and focusing on him and solely on him.

As you think of Frankie, you can clearly see his body and how it bears the evidence of his service, a map of scars, some worn openly, while others hide beneath his weary flesh. Deep wounds that bleed and pain him more than any bullet ever could. Words alone seem insufficient in the face of everything he has sacrificed. But now, Frankie is finally home, all of this is behind you two. And isn't all this what marriage vows were meant for? In sickness and in health, through the lows and the highs, you pledged to be there. As you remind yourself, supporting your husband doesn't diminish your strength and independence. It's merely an expression of love and partnership, you firmly resolve, even though the words ring somewhat hollow, as a voice in the back of your mind whispers, "But what about you?"

You slowly redirect your attention to the persistent itchiness on your skin. Taking three deep breaths, you allow each inhale and exhale to anchor you firmly into the present. As the air fills your lungs, you feel your shoulders slowly ease from the tension you always seem to put yourself under.

Now that Frankie is here to stay, you want nothing else than to provide the emotional solace and respite he needs to rebuild and find peace within himself. After everything Frankie has endured, you decide that he deserves a life that is predictably dull yet safe and warm. You want to build that life for him.

As your imagination runs rampant with visions of the life you're now free to construct together, Frankie emerges in the doorway. Clad in nothing more than a familiar, well-worn pair of briefs, he exudes an aura that is unmistakably his own—a blend of warmth, comfort, and a sense of home. In that instant, as you gaze at each other, it feels as though every small longing you held during Frankie's absence has converged into this singular moment. Nothing else matters to you right now except being with him.

In Frankie's hands, he carefully balances a tray, on it a tall glass of ice-cold water adorned with glistening condensation. The hunger stirs within you and your gaze falls upon two perfectly crafted PB and J sandwiches, invitingly prepared. It's evident that even now, the precise conditioning instilled by the army remains ingrained in Frankie. The unwavering precision, tidiness, and discipline persist, even amidst post-coital bliss. Sloppily prepared sandwiches? Never on Frankie’s watch.

Fondness envelops your heart, causing it to flutter with an intensity that threatens to burst from your chest. At this moment, a culmination of experiences floods your mind—the countless sleepless nights spent anxiously awaiting a call, the fear that gripped you while scouring the news for any shred of information, and Frankie's inability to share the depths of what he went through all race to the forefront of your mind. Now, as you reminisce about those moments when others would claim that being with Frankie wasn't worth the pain or hardships, a profound sense of satisfaction fills your heart. You're grateful for having ignored their words, as every single challenge and difficulty encountered along the way—the long-distance separations, the emotional uncertainties, and the sacrifices made—has ultimately proven to mean something. A smile mirrors your own overwhelming happiness as Frankie starts to walk toward the bed.

"I thought you'd have an appetite after all that exercise," Frankie says, his voice laced with a playful tone. His eyes, warm like melted chocolate, cradle you in their soft gaze. They speak volumes, no words needed, telling you just how much he cares.

A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you playfully quip, "Guess it doesn't help that we skipped dinner either, huh?"

"I apologize, mi cielo. I suppose I let my excitement get the better of me," Frankie admits, a touch of boyish bashfulness colouring his tone. "After eight long months apart, how could you expect me not to pounce on you, especially when you look so breathtaking?"

With utmost care, Frankie gently places the tray on the tiny side table, taking special care to move aside the book you're currently engrossed in. With the task completed, he turns his gaze towards you, slowly making his way to your side. Your eyes lock, and in an instant, he tenderly captures your mouth with his own. The kiss is unhurried yet filled with an intense passion, a promise of all that is to come, a fulfillment of the multitude of promises you have made to each other. Now, you have all the time in the world to embrace those promises.

As the kiss deepens, Frankie's hands begin to explore your naked body, their touch igniting a fiery desire that resonates deep within you. It engulfs you in a passionate longing that intensifies with each passing second. Frankie's wandering hands halt at your hips, where he gently strokes your sides while deepening the kiss even further. Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his warm breath mingling with your own. A playful glimmer dance in Frankie’s brown eyes as he firmly grabs your hips, effortlessly flipping you both into the deep plushness of the bed.

A delighted squeal escapes your throat, and you find yourself on top of Frankie, straddling his warm hips. His devilish smile meets your gaze. Like a tidal wave, a rush of excitement cascades through you, electrifying your senses and igniting newfound energy within.

"I thought we were supposed to have dinner," you playfully tease, your hands resting on the firm planes of his pectorals.

Frankie's eyes glisten mischievously as he responds, his voice filled with playful affection, "Don't worry, hermosa. Dinner can wait another minute. Right now, all I want to do is admire you." With a tender touch, he grabs a handful of the fleshy part of your hips, gently massaging your sides. His voice carries on, laced with adoration, "You know, this angle is my favourite. When I see you from above, naked, and sweaty, you look like my very own Amazon. My fierce warrior queen whom I can’t wait to worship." His grip tightens possessively, playfully swatting your behind, causing your flesh to softly jiggle.

You can't help but snort with amusement, firmly grinding down in a slow sensuous movement Frankie exhales a low moan, his eyes closing in pleasure. Yielding to the temptation, you momentarily cease your ministrations and whisper, "Well, last time I checked, librarians weren't renowned for their battle prowess.”

Frankie's smile stretches, his eyes opening and locking with yours, while his hands gently secure your hips. His soft voice echoes sweetly, "Physical prowess is just a fraction of true strength, mi cielo. It's a mindset, a spirit that radiates courage and perseverance. Believe me when I tell you, you possess that strength in a way that surpasses anyone I've ever encountered."

His words envelop you in a comforting embrace that floods your being with warmth. Reflected in his eyes is an unwavering conviction, a faith given to you unlike any you've experienced before. Such belief, one you've never even held for yourself, captivates you. The weight of his words resonates deeply, shaking the core of your being, even as you strive to maintain a facade of nonchalance. But Frankie effortlessly sees through your charade, knowing you better than he knows himself at this point. He slowly pushes his upper body upward and starts peppering your collarbones with tender kisses. You feel your cheeks heating as you shyly avert your gaze, unable to resist the sweetness of his praise and the even sweeter ministration.

A brief moment passes, during which you nibble on your lower lip, contemplating your next words. Finally, you muster the courage to meet Frankie's eyes once more, you push him back down on the mattress and ask, a mischievous glint shining in your eyes, "If I am to be your queen, does that mean you're willing to obey my every command?”

A playful smile dances on Frankie's lips as he replies, "Well, mi cielo, let's just say I'm more than willing to embark on the thrilling adventure of fulfilling your every desire, one command at a time." With those words, Frankie softly grabs your right arm, the very arm that had been holding him down, and he punctuates each word with a tender kiss upon the palm of your hand. As he does so, his eyes gently close, allowing his lips to linger in their affectionate embrace, locked in that sweet moment.

Frankie surrenders to the present, savouring every precious second that slowly passes between the two of you. The ache of longing for you these past months had been insurmountable, a void that only you could fill. Amidst his world engulfed in chaos, pain, and the remanence of a haunting trail of death that seemed eternally imprinted on his very being, your presence at his side has always been the sole beacon of meaning and coherence. The only thing that ever truly mattered to him. Screw everything else; he should have chosen to stay home long ago, before feeling trapped in the abyss he felt he had dug himself into over the years. In an attempt to dispel the encroaching darkness threatening to envelop him, Frankie inhales deeply, pushing away those grim thoughts, before swiftly flipping you over.

Everything else fades away again, and only the two of you remain. As you draw in a deep breath, the air fills your lungs with a trembling intensity, causing a burning sensation. Your chest tightens, not just from the weight of Frankie's presence, but also from the weight of everything that surrounds you, suffocating you in its bittersweet grasp. Tenderly, Frankie gently presses his nose against yours, once, twice, before planting a soft kiss upon its tip.

“My love, I assure you that nothing can ever come between us. There is nothing that could separate me from you. I belong to you for eternity, and as long as I can share my life with you, my dear, it will have been a life worth living, mi cielo.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and with a quiver in your voice, you whisper, "I love you, Frankie."

"Te amo, mi cielo, te amo para siempre," he replies, his words carrying the weight of a vow between you two.

With intertwined fingers and hearts overflowing with love, you gaze into each other's eyes. As you lie there, wrapped in the afterglow of passion, you savour the tranquillity and completeness that permeates the room. You vow to cherish each day, to embrace the ordinary moments that always become extraordinary when you are with Frankie. Together, you will face the world with open hearts, ready to create this future you’ve always yearned for with Frankie. As Frankie peppers kisses down your throat, you smile, and a shuddering breath escapes you. Food can wait you think giddily. Your hands gently glide along the broad expanse of his back, savouring him in all his glorious being. Nothing else matters now, for Frankie is home.

#reposted from my old blog #welcome to my new blog!#fanfic #fanfiction #a03 #archive of our own #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfic #francisco morales x reader

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 2 years ago

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[CN] Victor’s Mind Quest – Not the Slightest Gap (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a mind quest, 至无隙无间, that is yet to be released in the global server! ♡

[Additional Warning]: As the spice for this mind quest is very explicit and borderline, if you don’t qualify for the 16+ rating of the game (CN server), it’s recommended that you don’t proceed under the cut~ :>

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

The exclusive radio is to be read before CH 1. Please make sure you read that before continuing. Here: ♡♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

✧ [Chapter 1] ✧

It’s very early in the morning, and the horizon has just unveiled the trace of a mackerel sky. I gently push open the bedroom door, walk quietly on my tiptoes, roll up a corner of the duvet and get in.

Even though I try my best to keep my movements light, the sound of even breathing in my ears ceases instantly, and I hear a slightly awakened voice reaching my ears.

Victor: [adorably husky, sleepy tone] What time is it?

MC: It’s past five…

Victor sighs a little helplessly. Then he reaches out and embraces me, wrapping my entire body in the warmth of his arms.

I instinctively release a sigh and curl up in his arms contentedly.

The year-end projects during this time have made me very busy and disoriented, and working overtime has already become a common occurrence. Even Victor is helpless about my frazzled appearance.

But no matter how cautiously I lie down every night, he always feels my presence in the first instance and enfolds me in his arms.

Victor: [sexy grunt, husky tone] Lie down and focus on sleeping.

Victor: Don’t mull over work stuff in bed like you did a couple days ago.

MC: Understood~

I stealthily stick my tongue out. Just as I’m thinking about trying to relax and fall asleep, an idea for a new project pops into my head.

After a few moments of being torn, I clench the arm wrapped tightly around my waist and quietly move a few inches away.

Victor: [softly gasps] Where are you going again?

MC: Go-going to the bathroom.

Victor: Didn’t you just go to the bathroom before lying down?

MC: …so you heard that.

I mutter in a low voice, unable to find any other reasons for the moment.

MC: Well… I accidentally came up with an idea for a new project, and I’m afraid I’ll forget it tomorrow. So, I wanted to go and write it down.

MC: I’ll really just go and write it down~

Even though I deliberately emphasize the pronunciation of “accidentally” and make a promise, the strength around my waist still tightens unexpectedly.

Victor: [grunts softly, sighs] …your “accident” is very dedicated to your work.

Victor: No need to go to all that trouble. I’ll remember it for you. Go on.

MC: Who on earth submits a report to the CEO early in the morning?

Victor: It’s not like a certain someone has never done this before.

–

[Tidbits]: Refresher– a reference to S1 CH 7~ :>

–

His deep and low voice is laced with a hint of sleepiness that he is unable to conceal, blocking my retort.

Victor: And besides, right now, I’m not listening to your report as the CEO.

I blink, sensitively catching the implication of his words. My heart can’t help but turn into a puddle, and I finally give in and tell him about the idea I’ve come up with after a moment of resistance.

I turn over expectantly just as I finish speaking, looking into his deep eyes.

MC: How is it? Do you think it’s a feasible plan?

Victor: [laughs softly] I’m only responsible for remembering. I’m not gonna comment.

MC: …why are you being like this?

In the cold white light of dawn, I can see the corners of his lips vaguely curving upwards, as if he doesn’t plan on talking with me about this anymore.

I glare at him in secret and roll over again, deliberately sighing long and hard.

MC: That’s good. I feel even more sleepless now––

Hearing me pretending to feel wronged, Victor behind me seems to release a helpless, soft chuckle.

Victor: [sighs helplessly] Since you can’t sleep, answer a few questions of mine then.

Victor: Have you forgotten anything recently?

I’m stumped for a moment, wondering why he is suddenly asking this. Regardless, I earnestly reflect on this for a while. And in the next moment, I can’t help but let out a small cry of alarm.

MC: AHH! I forgot to eat that pudding you made for me!

Victor: [precious gasp] …I didn’t think you’d think of that first.

Victor: No need to have such a big reaction. If those who don’t know hear you, they will think you’ve forgotten something of enormous value.

MC: Of course, it’s something of enormous value! You especially made that for me three days ago when you saw how hard I was working…

I turn around and poke his arm tentatively.

MC: Do you think it’s still edible?

Victor: Yes.

Victor: But after eating it, it shouldn’t be just a certain someone’s brain that will go bad.

I look at him with a blank expression. It takes me churning it several times in my mind to realize that he is scolding me.

MC: Victor!

A few soft, increasingly cheerful laughs ring in my ears. As I glower at him, he slowly withdraws his joking expression.

Victor: Is that the only thing you’ve forgotten?

MC: …is there anything else?

I gape wordlessly, waiting for his “crusade” without any confidence.

Victor: A certain someone was rolling up her sleeves to fight for the tickets to a musical half a month ago, but she forgot about it when they started selling the tickets.

Victor: It’s been about a week now, and the bag of tulip seeds is still exactly where it was in the living room since we bought them.

Victor: You don’t expect that they will jump into the flower pots and grow themselves, do you?

Victor: Also, I remember that you were planning to sign up for a dance class; to go and sweat it out after work…

Seeing my eyes widen in confusion, Victor raises his eyebrows somewhat helplessly.

Victor: Indeed, a three-minute enthusiasm it was.

His face takes on an expression that says– “I knew it,” and following this, a somewhat vague memory surfaces in my mind.

—

───── [Flashback Begins] ─────

It was a night about two weeks ago. Victor and I were waiting on the roadside for the car after having dinner, and I was caught off guard by someone slipping a small flyer in my hand.

Passerby: Learn about Paso Doble dance~

I glanced down inadvertently and caught a glimpse of the bright red headline–– a passionate ballroom dance: Paso Doble.

The male and female dance partners in the picture on the side were intimate and assertive in their movements. I subconsciously stole a glance at Victor. He was looking at the finance and economics news on his phone, a calm and focused expression on his face.

A small, wicked idea suddenly bubbled up in my mind. I mysteriously leaned over to him and shook the flyer in my hand to him.

MC: Victor, would you like to sign up with me for a passionate Paso Doble dance experience?

Victor: [sighs sharply] Nope.

Victor: It’s not like I haven’t experienced a certain someone’s dance before.

–

[Tidbits]: Refresher– “Dance Date” reference where he taught her to dance, “Exhibition Date” reference where they danced in the rain~

–

He didn’t say much, but it seemed to convey the disdain implied therein vividly and thoroughly. I felt choked up and couldn’t help opening my mouth to refute.

MC: You don’t know about this Paso Doble dance yet. Aren’t you rejecting it a bit too early?

MC: Look at what it says on the flyer–– “The Paso Doble dance originated in France. It’s a dance that imitates a bullfighter’s movements, and the dancer’s posture is valiant and impassioned.”

MC: “In the Paso Doble dance, you can unleash the instinct to chase, hunt, and tear at…”

MC: So, don’t you want to chase, hunt, and tear me apart?

Victor: …

Victor finally took his eyes off the phone, shooting a surveying glance left and right.

Victor: Do you want to hear what you just said?

As the belated realization dawned on me, I stopped talking and turned my head to make sure there wasn’t anyone around, smiling in embarrassment.

MC: Actually, I’ve been thinking for a while now about whether to do some exercise after work and sweat it out.

MC: I feel that dancing seems more fun. Moreover, I can learn ballroom dancing with you, and this way, there won’t be any interference in our time together~

I took his arm affectionately, swaying it expectantly.

He lifted the corners of his lips in what seemed like amusement and helplessness.

Victor: [sighs helplessly] If you’re not over this three-minute enthusiasm by next week, we’ll talk about it then.

───── [Flashback Ends] ─────

—

That completely undisguised query reverberates in my ears, and my cheeks can’t help but be flushed.

MC: It’s not that it was a three-minute enthusiasm. I really want to take dance lessons with you. But how do I find the time now?

I arch up against his chest, my tone tinged with a hint of coquetry.

MC: I now need CEO Victor to remind me about eating.

Victor holds down my bobbing head, rapping it gently with his finger pad.

Victor: [laughs softly] And do you know that your daily routine has also been a mess lately?

Victor: Now hurry up and get some sleep. I’ll take a look at your proposal when I get up tomorrow. I can give you some suggestions.

I let out a small cry of delight and hug him immediately.

MC: No wonder they say no amount of anything can be a substitute for the CEO of LFG. Victor, you’re too great~

Victor: [sexy whisper] If you talk any more nonsense, I’ll dismiss tomorrow’s help.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 2] ✧

By the time I wake up again, it’s already noon.

Relaxed and refreshed, Victor sits on the sofa, sipping his coffee. On the table in front of him is the proposal I wrote yesterday till the late hours at night.

I hurriedly rub my eyes as I walk over to pick up the document and find that it has been marked with numerous annotations.

Victor: The overall direction is fine, but some details need fine-tuning.

Victor: As you can see now, your current logic is starting to get chaotic.

When I skim through it carefully, the realization suddenly dawns on me.

MC: Indeed. I seem to have drilled into a lot of insignificant problems...

Sighing, I rub my face between my hands as I feel a little out of my depth and put on an expression of humbly seeking his advice.

MC: Victor, how do you adjust in such situations when you lose your judgment due to having your hands full?

Victor raises an eyebrow at my words and looks at me. Understanding tacitly, I immediately withdraw my question.

MC: ...yes, you should never lose your judgment, even if your hands are full.

The corners of Victor’s lips curl up slightly. He lowers his head, takes a sip of his coffee, then stands up.

Victor: Go and wash up briefly. Let’s go somewhere.

—

A wave of elegant classical music flows through the high-end dance costume store, and a variety of exquisite dance outfits hang on the clothes hangers.

MC: What are we doing here?

I stand in the clothing store, feeling a little at a loss.

Victor: Pick a set you like. I’ve already asked Goldman to sign us up for dance classes.

MC: ?? You really signed us up for dance classes??

He nods without having any change of expression on his face, his gaze sweeping over the few women’s outfits next to him.

Victor: Wasn’t a certain someone looking forward to it at the time?

MC: Expectations are expectations... but I thought you’d let me have more time to rest when I could. After all, I’m working so much now.

Victor: Work will never end.

Victor withdraws his gaze, a few traces of calmness reflecting in his deep eyes.

Victor: As the boss of [MC’s Company Name], you will only have more and more things on your plate.

Victor: But if you lose the pace of your life every time you are busy with work, all your rhythms will be disrupted.

MC: My rhythms are not at the point of being “disrupted,” right...?

Victor: It looks like a certain someone has already forgotten about that poor pudding in the fridge and those tulip seeds.

MC: ...didn’t forget, didn’t forget.

I make a standing-at-attention posture.

MC: I’m just a little curious. What does this have to do with us signing up for dance classes?

Victor: If you don’t want your work to lead you by the nose every time, finding your core with a regular activity is the best solution.

MC: Core?

MC: You mean, it’s something analogous to the power of body and mind?

Victor glances at me with a gratified look.

Victor: There will always be changes and challenges in the outside world, and these are variables that are impossible to guard against.

Victor: It’s only when you have a stable core that the chaotic situations won’t be able to snatch away the initiative.

Although his explanation is brief, I already vaguely understand something, my eyes resting on the dance skirt behind Victor.

MC: So, the regular activity you mentioned just now is taking me to dance lessons?

Victor: Mm. Dancing is a good way of regulating yourself.

Victor: It can not only help you sweat and relieve stress, but it’s also a good form and physical exercise and a way of looking for core.

He pauses, his serene tone taking on an imperceptible hint of indulgence.

Victor: And like you said, it’s something I can accompany you on.

He downplays the last half of his sentence, but it stirs up a small wave of tingle in my heart.

He talked about so many major principles and all that. But in the end, it’s all because he cares about me~

Victor doesn’t seem to make out the smugness in my heart, continuing to speak.

Victor: It won’t take up too much of your time. If you can spare an hour or two for a few days, it will work just fine.

MC: But what if I can’t finish my work?

Victor: When have I ever let you drop the ball?

MC: That’s true~

The transparent favoritism in his words causes me to burst into a cheerful smile. I look at my toes and begin to ponder conscientiously.

What Victor said just now is actually traceable in him. After all, no matter how busy he is, he will still find time to go to Souvenir to cook and relax.

Perhaps cooking is kind of a core of his being.

MC: If I can find my core, will I be able to make judgments and deal with things as calmly as you do?

Victor: I can’t guarantee that.

Victor glances down at my hand with which I have hooked his finger, seemingly a little amused.

Victor: [with an interlaced soft laugh] But right now, at least you can calmly fire your flatteries.

I give a soft “humph,” deciding to be generous and not quibble with him, and lift my chin accordingly.

MC: I take your suggestion and will go to the dance classes with you.

MC: But why did we come straight to pick out clothes? Don’t we need to attend a trial class to understand it first?

Victor: Because beginning with the sense of ritual a certain someone likes the most can bring out one’s vibrant nature.

As he finishes speaking, he suddenly turns around and directly picks up a dance dress of vibrant color right behind him.

Victor: This one.

MC: Eh? But I haven’t picked it out yet?

Victor: From the moment we walked in the door, your eyes have been darting towards this one.

Victor: If I couldn’t still read what’s on your mind, I’d be a dummy.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 2, Memory Silhouette, Narrator POV] ✧

Several beautifully plated dishes have been laid out in order on the table. Victor lifts his eyes and glances toward the living room, but he doesn’t catch sight of the girl’s figure on the sofa.

Victor: MC, dinner is ready.

The voice that always responds to him loudly and clearly doesn’t ring out.

A little surprised, Victor cranes his head, realizing that it seems the girl hasn’t made much noise since the two of them bought their dance clothes and returned home in the afternoon.

Victor: Have you fallen asleep?

Victor takes off his heat-resistant gloves and heads toward the bedroom.

—

The bed in the bedroom is empty. His eyebrows knit into a frown, only to hear the faint rustling sound of a zipper coming from the walk-in closet.

Through the blurry, transparent glass door, he can vaguely see the familiar figure of the girl.

Victor takes a few steps inside and sees the girl standing in front of the full-length mirror and trying on her newly brought dance dress, totally unaware of his arrival.

The silky satin fabric tightly hugs her waistline, and her beautiful butterfly bones are revealed through the backless dress, the vibrant crimson color making her skin even fairer in contrast.

Even though Victor has seen the girl trying on the dance dress in the clothing store before, there seems to be something a little different about this moment.

The warm light of the walk-in closet glistens on the hem of the girl’s skirt, the satin glowing with spots of golden reminiscent of fish scales.

The girl gently sways the hem of her skirt a little, and stars seem to be trickling brilliantly on her body.

She seems dazzled by the fine light streaming through her eyes, and unconsciously reveals a simple and somewhat silly smile.

Victor is stunned for a moment, subconsciously recalling the last time he saw this smile.

Perhaps it was a week ago, the day they agreed to plant tulips together.

When Victor pushed open the door to the home, he almost tripped over the bag of tulip seeds sprawled across the foyer.

Heaving a sigh, he moved the seeds to the corner and found the flower pots and planting tools there. Upon this, he headed for the study.

He thought the girl would welcome him with a beaming smile, take his arm, and jump and frisk about toward the “little garden” on the terrace she had nurtured with utmost care.

But before he could approach, the girl’s serious voice transmitted through the half-closed door of the study. It seemed that she was in the middle of a work phone call.

Out of courtesy, Victor did not continue to listen. But from the few words that drifted to his ears, it wasn’t difficult to perceive—

Time was pressing, but she insisted on prioritizing the quality and asked for the program to be redone.

Victor knew a smile that could be called one of approval had surfaced on his face.

Planting the flowers could wait until she is done with her work–– Victor thought to himself and put the tools for planting flowers one by one in their original position.

Or perhaps it was four days ago, when he made her most beloved pudding for the girl who had been working late.

Even though she had eaten the same taste countless times, she would always finish eating the pudding in big scoops and give a satisfied giggle every time.

But that day, she just wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled coquettishly. Then, she put the pudding next to her computer and said that she would use it to motivate herself to be more efficient tonight.

The next morning, Victor was a little surprised to see the pudding in the fridge, untouched.

Originally, these were the moments when he could’ve received that simple smile from her without a second thought. But time and time again, his potential expectations were dashed.

Victor pulls himself back from his thoughts. The smile on the girl’s face in front of the full-length mirror has not yet waned.

As if infected, his brows slowly slacken, and the corners of his lips curl up into the same arc as hers.

Victor quietly takes a step back and closes the door to the walk-in closet for her.

Just let her be so simply happy for a little while longer.

While he waits, he can prepare another pudding for her for dessert.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 3] ✧

The pure white marble floor is as bright as a mirror, and the ornate crystal chandelier overhead reflects the multicolored light.

Standing in the dance classroom reminiscent of a palace, I quietly lean into Victor’s ear.

MC: This is not the dance classroom in that little advertisement, is it?

Victor lowers his head and straightens his sleeves, and there isn’t a single ripple in his tone.

Victor: It’s a one-on-one class, so that you can flexibly adjust the class time to suit your schedule.

A feeling of warmth surges in my heart in vain, and before the smile at the corners of my lips can be heaved up, Victor adds another sentence unhurriedly.

Victor: [overflowing teasing tone] And, I also found teachers of high caliber. A certain someone can hone her skills conveniently while learning, so that she doesn’t keep stepping on other people’s toes at parties.

MC: [muttering] grudge-bearing devil.

While the dance teachers are entering the classroom, I stick my tongue out at Victor’s back.

In order to give us an initial introduction to the Paso Doble dance, the two teachers briefly exchange pleasantries with us before demonstrating a short dance routine for us.

Female Teacher: In the Paso Doble dance, although the female partner is in a passive position, she actually needs to arouse the instinct and desire of the male partner to “fight,” to seduce, stimulate and conquer the other person.

As she explains, the female teacher moves her body in a particularly expressive and lively manner to the impassioned music. I can vaguely feel a lot of pressure coming over me.

I tug at the corner of Victor’s shirt.

MC: I had no idea that the emotions of the Paso Doble dance would be so extroverted.

Seemingly hearing the hesitation in my tone, Victor lowers his head and looks at me.

Victor: [overflowing teasing tone] Didn’t you want me to chase, hunt, and tear you apart? Why is there no confidence now?

MC: …

I grit my teeth in indignation and pay no more attention to this gloating man.

Male Teacher: Today, we will start with the simple basic steps.

Along with these words from the teacher, we officially begin our first Paso Doble dance lesson.

I don’t know if it’s because I’ve given myself the psychological cues, but I really feel a little helpless. It’s either that I can’t stretch my body at all, or I’m simply getting frantic.

Female Teacher: You can spin your hand’s pattern along with your body.

MC: Like this?

Victor: She meant for you to rotate your palm when you jump apart, not take me with you.

MC: Oh-oh!

Female Teacher: When you put your hand on your male partner, sink your shoulder. Otherwise, it will look like you’re trying to fight with him.

MC: Okay, okay…

By the end of the class, I’m already dripping with sweat, not to mention the female teacher’s outpouring emotions, strength, and feeling of conquering the male partner.

On the other hand, even though Victor’s forehead is also covered with a layer of sweat from the dance, the way he carries himself exudes a sense of calmness at all times.

…damn it, why is this man so skilled at everything he does?

Fortunately, the content of the first lesson is only about getting familiar with the basic dance steps. It soon ends with a wonderfully rich psychological activity.

After making an appointment for the next session, the teachers bring us to the entrance of the lounge.

Male Teacher: The two of you can rest here. We will have someone bring champagne for you guys in a moment.

Female Teacher: It’s a special benefit for the very first course here. Enjoy~

—

After politely expressing our thanks, I move my already stiff limbs and walk into the lounge with a complex feeling.

As soon as the door is closed, I can’t help but stare at Victor with an extreme look of grievance.

MC: Sob sob sob, what should I do, Victor? I feel like I can’t do it.

Victor: [laughs helplessly] It was only the first class. Don’t be so nervous.

MC: It’s not a question of what the class number is… it’s that this dance is too physically and emotionally demanding!

MC: And the teacher wants me to “conquer” you! What is this concept? It’s harder than mounting the sky––

Victor seems to choke on my phrasing.

Victor: [he actually chokes] Do you have to overstate like that?

MC: Of course! You know I’ve always been the one to be “dominated” by you.

MC: And I’m asked to guide you all of a sudden, and I’m at a loss…

Victor is slightly stunned, his deep eyes roaming over me for a moment as if he is pondering something. Then, he sits down on the sofa in a relaxed manner.

The space suddenly lapses into silence. Victor casually shakes off the sweat from the tips of his hair, then he slowly unfastens his cufflinks and pulls up his sleeves little by little in graceful movements.

Before I can react, I see that long, slender hand moving to his chest and unhurriedly loosening the first button.

…is it that hot?

The question still hasn’t left my mouth when I see that hand continuing to move down, resting on the second button.

My throat inexplicably feels dry. I swallow my saliva, my eyes “sincerely” glued to his slightly undulating chest.

And Victor doesn’t say anything, just meets my gaze looking at him straight-forwardly.

??: Mr. Victor, Miss MC, may I come in now?

There is a sudden knock at the door, interrupting the enchanting sight in the room.

MC: [blushing and frantic] ! W-wait a moment!

I subconsciously blurt out. Victor’s hand pauses only for a moment before continuing with the interrupted unbuttoning process.

And even his movements slow down more and more.

MC: What are you doing?

I anxiously ask him in a low voice, gesturing to the door with my gaze as my eyes widen. His gaze falls indifferently to the front, and his tone of voice is heedless.

Victor: [very amused] Unbuttoning.

MC: [blushing] …I didn’t ask you that! I mean why on earth are you doing that now! There are people outside.

Victor: [sounds very proud of himself] Because I feel very hot right now.

I’m baffled by his “rightful” attitude, and the constant knocking on the door agitates my mind. I hurriedly gesture at him again.

MC: [blushing and more frantic] Button up! Quick!

Victor obviously doesn’t listen to me, and the slightly raised corner of his eyes even spills out a hint of provocative arrogance.

Victor: [even more amused and proud] Are you sure you’re just going to keep watching like this?

Of course not!

The moment the next knock sounds on the door, I finally can’t help but spring up to my feet and walk quickly to the door.

Very cautiously, I open the door just a crack and politely take the champagne from the other party’s hand.

MC: I’m sorry. We’ll help ourselves.

Closing the door, I immediately turn around with a huff.

MC: If I hadn’t stopped that person just now, was CEO Victor going to present himself naked!

Victor: [deep, sexy™ laugh] …

MC: You’re still laughing??

I can’t help but grit my teeth. Meeting his haughty and midnight-dark eyes, I simply walk straight up to him and uncork the champagne, pretending to be angry and harsh as I open my mouth.

MC: [blushing] The teacher will come in a while and talk to us about the feedback.

MC: [blushing] CEO Victor, you should hurry up and wear your clothes properly. How can you be like this?

Hearing my words, he smiles in an even more unusual manner and gently tugs on yet another button.

His fingertips quietly circle the body of the button. Another one doesn’t survive.

Victor: [with a hint of rogue] I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this.

I immediately shoot him a glare. But he remains unmoved and continues with the unbuttoning process. The dense beads of sweat slightly dampen his dark red dance shirt.

Beneath the gorgeous light, the sparkling and translucent particles are drawn into his firm skin, reflecting a seductive luster.

Those transparent droplets continue to glide down and disappear into the unrevealed territory. They seem to guide one’s line of sight, making them want to see more.

My heartbeat gradually accelerates along with his movements, but the continuous sound of passing footsteps outside the door makes me keep the last ounce of my sanity at bay.

I lift my gaze and meet the rare slyness in his eyes, feeling as if I’ve been gently pricked by something. At this moment, the twisted emotions within me pour down in torrents completely from my heart.

I pick up the wine glass and shove it into his hand, tightly pursing my lips as I pour the champagne. A few drops of translucent wine splash around and land on the backs of our hands.

Victor: [slow, deliberate teasing] Be calm. You’re wasting the wine.

MC: [blushing] Isn’t this happening because a certain someone... anyway, I can’t calm down now.

Seeing me retorting angrily, Victor, on the contrary, gives a beaming smile.

Victor: Oh? Why?

MC: I don’t believe that someone as smart as CEO Victor wouldn’t know why.

Victor: [coquettish tone x1] I really don’t know.

Victor: [x2] After spending a long time with a dummy, there are times when it can get contagious.

MC: ...Victor!

The sweet fragrance of alcohol lingers on the tip of my nose, and along with his provocation, my thoughts are thrown into chaos. I can’t help being the first one to “surrender.”

MC: Don’t you at all feel that your behavior just now was a little too much?

Victor: [deliberately dragging the tail notes] Maybe, or maybe not.

MC: ...anyway, Mr. CEO just won’t admit to the “crime” he committed just now.

I pause for a moment, glancing at his finger resting on the button.

MC: And you still plan to continue doing it, don’t you?

Victor releases a soft laugh, looking at the liquid in his glass with a composed expression.

Victor: Wanting me to listen to what you say, to do what you say – wouldn’t that depend on whether or not a certain someone can show some “sincerity?”

…you almost presented yourself naked in front of other people, and you want me to show “sincerity?”

I grit my teeth in indignation, lifting my wrist, which was about to stop pouring the wine, aloft again.

The raised wine bottle continues to spurt out the golden liquid with a gurgling sound, and an unending stream of wine pours into the glass in his hand.

MC: Is this kind of “sincerity” enough?

The aroma of champagne gradually pervades the air of the lounge, and the wine is about to be filled to the brink. But Victor still wears that expression of remaining calm in the hour of peril.

I start to lose confidence a little, so I can only inwardly bite the bullet and see it to the end without stopping.

At the moment when the golden champagne is about to spill over, Victor finally opens his mouth softly.

Victor: [laughs softly] It’s enough.

I hastily withdraw my hand, stealthily heaving a sigh of relief.

Victor: I admit that I’ve committed a worthy “crime” just now.

Victor: Didn’t a certain someone say just now that she is incapable of occupying the guiding position in front of me? But now it seems that it’s very much in the process of being shaped.

Victor lowers his head and lightly takes a sip of the champagne in a graceful movement, not allowing a single drop of wine to be divulged.

Victor: So next time, just try to “conquer” me.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 4] ✧

Two weeks later, at night. I’m practicing my newly learned dance steps in the dance studio at home.

Although I feel tired after each dance practice, I wake up the next day with high spirits, a positive feeling radiating from my body and mind.

This feeling is particularly strong when I’m working. Compared with the dispirited tone some time ago when I was dragging my body, now my entire being feels as if it’s brimming with energy.

Is this the core Victor was talking about?

Although I’m not too sure, I do find time to practice at home on days when we don’t have class so that I don’t lose this energy.

I look intently at myself in the mirror, and as the last rhythm falls, it jams perfectly with the ending movement.

Victor: That was a pretty good dance.

Following the sound, I turn around and see Victor leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest. He is wearing a dark-colored bathrobe, and the tips of his hair are slightly wet. It seems that he has just finished his shower.

MC: It seems I don’t feel so embarrassed when I’m not dancing in front of the teacher.

MC: Why don’t you and I dance together and see how it feels?

My gaze lands on his hair, and I shake my head again.

MC: Never mind. You’ve already washed up.

Victor: [laughs softly] It won’t hurt to dance through it once.

He walks up to me before I can answer and extends his palm. I slightly freeze for a moment, then hand my palm to him.

The melody flows slowly, and along with a note soaring intensely, the heavy curtains of the high-pitched and penetrating symphony are pulled open.

I skillfully put my hands on Victor’s shoulders, rise on my tiptoes, and then make my landing on the ground.

In the swaying dance steps, we sometimes cling to each other’s chest, and sometimes we push and pull, spinning and stretching.

Plink.

And along with a sharp flinging back of the head, a few drops of cold water land on my lower jaw, appearing to be the droplets of water from the tips of Victor’s hair.

They glide down my chin to my collarbones, producing an almost unbearable itching sensation. I pull out my hand to wipe them away, only to have it tightly clutched by Victor in the next beat.

MC: ?

I meet his gaze and capture a fleeting glimpse of teasing in the depths of that pair of slender eyes.

Victor: Stay focused.

Without waiting for me to react, Victor’s forearm exerts light pressure and pushes me out of his arms according to the choreography of the dance steps.

The dramatic movements cause the belt of his bathrobe to flap, tracing across the skin of my thighs coarsely.

My eyes can’t help but be drawn to his belt, following it to the corners of his robe, which are twining up in the air.

…wait a second.

Victor has just taken a shower. So right now, he shouldn’t be…?

I’m stunned for a moment, my cheeks flaring up immediately as I’m half-nailed to the spot by this sudden thought of mine.

I subconsciously draw my gaze back. However, an indescribable instinct drives me to lift my wrist and glide it toward his lapel.

Victor lowers his head and looks at me in surprise. I slide down my fingers, taking advantage of the twirling motion to “inadvertently” climb up his chest and “accidentally” tug his collar loose.

Intentionally or otherwise, my fingertips brush over his smooth, tight muscles, leading waves of fine shivers to linger in my heart.

Victor: It seems a certain someone has indeed gained her energy back. She is now daring to make little moves.

The steady, self-sustaining voice lands on my ear, leaving a burning warmth in my auricle. I promptly draw myself away a little, winking at him.

MC: If CEO Victor doesn’t mind, I can step up my moves a little more.

Victor: Is that so? And here I thought, that was the limit of a certain someone’s boldness.

The passionate music happens to reach its climax just at this moment, the melody flooding the entire dance studio. It causes my brain to turn blank for an instant, making me impulsive.

I don’t know if it’s his words that have aroused me to lose my reasons for a moment, or if it’s the faintly discernible instinct in the bottom of my heart that has done it…

Before I can think properly, the restless palm of my hand has already taken advantage of the dance movements and quietly slides over the strong thigh underneath the bathrobe.

Even my finger pads seem to glide through even more dangerous territory.

Victor: [lets out a heavy moan, blushing] …

The fiery beats seem to conceal a fleeting moan. Victor’s movements clearly fall short by a beat, and a slit finally appears in his blazing gaze.

Seeing him being disoriented like this, I can’t help but feel a little proud of myself.

MC: What do you think of my dance?

His wandering eyes gradually settle down little by little and focus on my face once again, flickering with some unknown complex emotions.

Victor: You loosened up quite a lot.

Victor: [dangerously husky tone] However, it’s still not enough.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the force around my waist suddenly tightens, shackling me firmly to his fiery chest.

The entire world seems to be instantly taken over by Victor’s scent. The searing heat brands onto every inch of my skin, but the man opposite me doesn’t seem satisfied.

He closely follows my movements, and reminiscent of a wild animal on a hunt, he intertwines all my limbs until our bodies completely fit together.

My cheeks instantly flare into a crimson red. The flaming acceleration of my heartbeat causes my breathing to be thrown into chaos, and I struggle to draw in a deep breath.

MC: [blushing] Wait, this isn’t how the dance works at all, is it?

Victor: A certain someone mustn’t have listened carefully during the class.

Victor: [elaborating the teacher’s words x1] The teacher clearly said that the Paso Doble dance requires very high coordination of your limbs.

Victor: [x2] If you really can’t meet the standard, there’s no need to force it.

Victor: [x3] Amateur entrants can adjust their posture according to their preferences and do improvised dance steps.

The warmth circling my waist gradually shifts downward, holding my body steady as I try to escape.

Victor: [return of the dangerously husky tone, with a hint of rouge x1] Right now, I’m just tweaking it according to my own preference.

MC: But…

He interrupts my powerless retort, his deep and low voice revealing an irresistible intensity.

Victor: [x2] And what’s more, we’ve been practicing these few dance steps for two weeks now. It’s time to make some changes.

He slowly presses on towards me, closing the distance until there isn’t the slightest gap between us.

The burning heat coming from the pit of my stomach makes me vaguely aware of what he means, and I can’t resist accepting all of this seduction in my heart as it comes, but I still try my utmost to hang in there with my mouth.

MC: But didn’t you say that if you want to find your core, you have to do it with a regular set of activities?

Victor: That’s indeed what I said.

Victor: But there are many things in the world that… once you set them into a repetitive and fixed order, they will become monotonous to some extent.

As he says this, he squeezes in the slightly moist skin of his thigh between my legs. It’s as if he wants to open up everything I have to him without the slightest reservation.

Being in touch with an icy sensation behind me, I’m suddenly given a jolt, only to find that I’ve been pressed up against the mirror without even realizing it.

In front of me is the breath I’m familiar with. The slightly ragged breathing disturbs the air between us, and I feel my brain becoming light and airy, as if it has been stripped of oxygen.

Victor lowers his head. His moist kisses land softly and wordlessly in the pit of my stomach, dabbing away a few drops of water that pelt onto there earlier.

I instinctively squint my eyes, feeling the delicate sense of satisfaction flooding my entire chest.

Victor: [that sly, sexy whisper x1] Do you know what needs to be done when something becomes monotonous?

MC: [blushing] Wh-what?

Victor: [x2] Make an improvised mess.

My consciousness is erratic at the moment, and I can’t seem to fully comprehend the meaning of his words. I only feel as if I were being burned by the blazing heat of his voice, and all my feelings seem to rush together to the top of my head.

Through the hazy corner of my eye, I see a dense layer of mist appearing on the surface of the mirror behind me, concealing the overlapping and undulating figures in the mirror.

I withdraw my gaze, using the last ounce of my sanity to focus on the face in front of me.

That pair of eyes, which has always been self-restrained, gradually becomes dazed, reflecting my equally inextricable gaze.

Longingly, I cling even closer to him, until the entire world is invaded and veiled by his breaths.

Amid the chaotic thoughts, the last glimmer of calm reflection flashes through the entirety of my perception––

I seem to clearly understand what my core is.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 4, Memory Silhouette] ✧

It’s early morning on the weekend. The warm sunlight spills over the entire dance studio. Filled with vigor, I tug on my rubber gloves and count the cleaning tools on the floor.

MC: Mop, rags, bucket – we’re all set.

MC: Reporting to CEO Victor, we can start cleaning up the dance studio now~

Victor stands helplessly next to me, silently pulling up the sleeves of his loungewear.

Victor: When I asked a certain someone to find her core, I didn’t mean she has to do every big and small thing.

Victor: We can just call the cleaning auntie. Why go to all this trouble?

MC: [blushing] How can that be! Weren’t we here yesterday…

I subconsciously make a loud retort, my ears immediately burning up a little as I think back to the scenes from last night that made my heart pound and me a blushing mess. Hemming and hawing, I seem to have lost my ability to speak properly.

MC: [blushing] A-anyway, we’d better clean it up ourselves!

Victor gives me an amused look and doesn’t say anything more. He just simply picks up the mop and walks to a corner of the dance studio.

His back is straight, and the slightly blue veins on his arms peek out along with his movements of holding the mop. The sunlight filtering through the window blurs the contours of his sharp jawline.

I stare fixedly at his profile and can’t help but marvel again and again in admiration.

Is there really anyone out there who even makes doing household chores look so captivating?

And at the same time, another voice clamors in a low voice in my heart that I cannot ignore. After staring at Victor for a while, I finally can’t help giving those words a voice as I ask––

MC: Victor… why aren’t you asking me where the steam mop machine at home has gone?

Victor continues to drag the mop without any reaction whatsoever, not even giving me a look.

Victor: I thought you could keep that to yourself for good and not bring it up.

MC: What do you mean?

I tentatively walk up to his side, wiping the mirror while quietly observing his face in the glass.

MC: Did you already notice that the mopping machine is missing?

Victor: If I were as slow as a certain someone, it wouldn’t be surprising at all that this house would be utterly emptied one day.

MC: …humph. Then why didn’t you ask me where it went?

Hearing my words, Victor finally stops his movements and straightens up, giving me a meticulous and careful once–over with a smile in his eyes.

Victor: So that I could see this tentative, fluky, and curious look on a certain dummy’s face right now.

The expression on my face freezes immediately, and I can’t help pouting.

MC: You aren’t curious, are you? Then I won’t tell you~

After saying that, I continue wiping the mirror and catch a glimpse of Victor continuing to mop the floor with a focused expression out of the corner of my eye.

…he can really put up with it, huh. Or is it that he is really not curious?

While I absent-mindedly clean the mirror, the dumbbells, the yoga balls, and all the tables and chairs, I observe Victor’s movements out of the corner of my eyes the whole time.

He cleans the floor on the right side of the dance studio neatly, then wipes his hands and takes out his phone with his back turned to me, not making any new movements for a long time.

What is he looking at? Why so serious?

Victor: …

Hearing him release a perplexed tone, I can’t resist taking advantage of the wiping motion to walk up behind him and sneak a glance.

Seeing that he is reading an email, I promptly withdraw my gaze out of courtesy, but I inadvertently happen to catch one of the lines––

“Your steam mop machine has been repaired. Please come to the store and collect it promptly.”

MC: Eh??

A soft chuckle resounds in my ears. I lift my head and look at the mirror before me, only to see Victor’s eyes colliding with mine in the glass.

MC: Did you already know that I had sent it in for repair after I accidentally broke it?

Victor: I filled in my email address when we first bought it. So, it’s only natural that the store would send the mail to me.

Victor: Even the reason for the damage is clearly noted here––

Victor: [adorable teasing tone] “When teasing a cat with the machine, the body was accidentally knocked to the ground…”

MC: Okay, okay, stop reading…

I smile in embarrassment and cover his phone screen, sheepishly averting my gaze.

Suddenly, a broad palm rubs the top of my head. I lift my eyes and see that Victor seems to be in a very good mood, curling the corners of his lips upward.

Victor: [laughs softly] Of course, I was curious.

Victor: It’s just that a certain dummy has never been very adept at concealing the answer.

Victor: Next time, you can redouble your efforts to do so.

��

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 5] ✧

The end of the year is drawing increasingly nearer. I breathe a long sigh of relief as I conclude processing my final review before the holidays.

The work at the present stage has finally come to an end.

But compared with being relaxed, the feeling that consumes my heart even more is a sense of pride at being able to get things done methodically without wrecking my work and rest balance.

And all of this credit belongs to Victor, who helped me find my core.

I take out my phone and am just about to call him, when Victor’s name jumps up on the screen.

MC: Hey, are you done with your meeting yet?

Victor: Mm, and I’ve also cleared up my schedule for the night.

Victor: Can a certain someone now tell me what exactly is the mysterious “surprise arrangement” she’s been cooking up these last few days?

MC: I simply want to thank CEO Victor for accompanying me in the dance practice. As for the details, you will find out when you get there.

MC: I’ve already given the address to your driver, and Goldman has the outfit I’ve prepared for you in advance!

Victor: [helpless, inaudible laugh] …you’re quite good at managing people.

MC: It’s all because CEO Victor taught me so well~ See you later then!

—

Before the evening descends, I arrive at the garden villa guest house ahead of schedule.

According to my arrangements, this place has been vacated in the morning, and some special preparations have been made.

After confirming everything, I come to the suite with the best view and begin to decorate this room with utmost care.

MC: Scented candles, flowers, mood lighting… and red wine! All set!

Elated, I admire my own decorations, take out my phone, and record the setting.

A few moments later, the doorbell to the room rings. I rush to the door at once and straighten my hair, before opening it slowly.

MC: Welcome~

Outside the door, Victor stands against the backdrop of light, the white dance shirt embellished with fine diamonds perfectly framing his physique.

The V-neckline on the chest clings to the surface of his packed muscles, adding a touch of softness and alluring charm to his robust body.

And as his gaze lands on my red dress, a flash of imperceptible daze and breathlessness seems to flicker through his eyes.

I’m unable to grasp the entirety of all this. I just stare blankly at the person in front of me, forgetting to speak for a while.

Victor: Have you seen enough?

I shake my head.

Victor: [laughs helplessly] …let’s go inside, and you can watch more if you haven’t seen enough.

Amused and in a good mood, Victor takes me by the hand as he walks into the room and sweeps his gaze over the decorations inside, a little smile dyeing the light in his eyes.

Victor: [precious, soft laugh] Is this the dummy’s surprise?

MC: This isn’t everything.

I step forward and take his arm, bringing him to the semi-open-air balcony with a wide view while wearing a mysterious look on my face.

Seeing that he is a little puzzled, I draw a step back and solemnly twirl up the corner of my skirt, standing on ceremony before him.

MC: Welcome to Victor and MC’s exclusive ball.

MC: Mr. Handsome CEO, may I have this dance?

As soon as my words fall, a spotlight comes from the direction of the guest house’s wall, enclosing the shadows of the two of us together.

Victor’s motion freezes slightly, followed by his long and narrow eyes gradually rising little by little.

Victor: Of course.

The instant our palms interlace, music begins to play in the garden outside the balcony. We dance to the familiar tune, melding warmly into each other’s arms.

At this moment, a delicate rustling sound breaks out from the sky. Our eyes can’t help being drawn to the source, and we see dazzling red dots of stars emerging high on the horizon.

And in the next instant, bright rose petals sprinkle down like droplets of rain, rendering the crystalline and shimmering lake outside the bay window until it blends in with the warm red of the sky tinged with the colors of sunset.

Victor laughs quietly, a rare softness emerging in the light of his eyes.

Victor: [precious, helpless soft laugh] Now can you explain your arrangements to me?

I purse my lips and take a deep breath of the pleasing fragrance of flowers in the air.

MC: We’ve been learning to dance for so long. We’ve got to “perform” once, right?

MC: And I also really wanted to find a sense of ritual for our dancing lessons.

MC: But I still might feel embarrassed in front of other people, so…

MC: I prepared a ball that belongs only to the two of us.

MC: Most importantly, it’s only you and me here now. So, it’s just “our” time~

Victor glances at the rain of petals descending from the sky, raising the tip of his brows slightly.

Victor: [“still-surprised” laugh] You not only prepared all these, but even reserved the entire place?

Hearing the surprise in his tone, I stick my tongue out.

MC: Thanks to CEO Victor, I’ve made a small fortune as the owner of [MC’s Company Name].

Victor smiles, letting me lightly spin in his arms.

MC: Judging from the expression on your face, it seems like my surprise has been successful?

Victor: Yes, I’m very surprised.

It’s rare for Victor to admit it so candidly, and the tip of his brows seem to have melted into a soft layer of warmth.

Victor: After all, work and dance practice already kept a certain someone very busy during this time.

Victor: It’s hard to imagine that she still had the energy to prepare all this.

MC: I’ve been very, very busy– so busy that at one point, I was writing a proposal and dancing simultaneously in my dreams.

I wink at him, causing the twinkling light flowing in his eyes to sway even more clearly.

MC: But thanks to the best Victor in the world, now I will no longer lose the original rhythm of my life because of being busy.

Victor: [precious, overflowing laughter] A certain someone was very quick to see the light this time.

MC: Of course~ Don’t you know who is the one that taught me~

I raise my chin to him as if to show that he is the one who deserves the credit. And then, I seem to think of something. So, I withdraw my joking expression and stare at him earnestly.

MC: And it’s not just that. I also understood one thing––

MC: Just like eating, sleeping, and laughing heartily, “accompanying the person I love” is something that I cannot allow for its pace to be disrupted.

MC: No matter the situation, it shouldn’t be muddled through for reasons such as “being busy.”

Victor doesn’t say anything, but the ripples shimmering in his eyes lay bare his happy mood.

MC: Come to think of it, this is how you’ve always treated me.

MC: Clearly, you yourself are already very busy. But you still attentively listened to my troubles in the early hours of the morning, found the time to practice dance with me, and helped me regain my stability step by step.

MC: You even secretly got the musical tickets for me and planted the tulips.

Victor laughs softly, drawing us a little closer to each other. I press myself against his chest, quietly listening to that powerful heartbeat.

–

[Anika’s Notes]: I mostly skip adding translation notes now since time is very short. But I had to stop here– MC uses the term “聆听,” which is different from the usual “听 (listen).” The term MC used means “listening respectfully,” which conveys a reverent emotion; and adds so much more depth to that seemingly simple action~ ❤️

–

MC: And because of that, I realized––

MC: Victor, you are my core.

MC: With you by my side, I won’t be too flustered even if something as big as the sky smashes down on me.

I lift my head and gaze at Victor unwaveringly, as if I were trying to look into his heart.

The only thing left in the surrounding is the melody of the music. Amid the quietude, the light in Victor’s eyes is profound, and it’s as if they are tainted with a misty yearning.

I’m intoxicated by the light in that pair of eyes. Despite so, I ask with a little uncertainty.

MC: Why aren’t you saying anything? Did I say it wrongly?

Hearing my words, he releases a deep laugh. His finger pads fondly caress my lips and cheeks, and they finally rest on my back, holding me steady.

The hem of my skirt flutters in the wind as I gently sit on Victor’s lap, my body leaning back slightly without the slightest apprehension.

Victor bends down following my movements, and his palm clasps around my waist, giving me a sense of complete security just like he’s always given me every time before.

As our breaths entwine in close proximity, I hear his answer.

Victor: [the softest™, sexiest™, striking you in the heart™ whisper to exist x1] You didn’t say it wrongly.

Victor: [x2] It’s just that I realized one thing too.

Victor pauses, his tone of certainty brimming with completely undisguised yearning.

Victor: [x3] Beginning from a very long time ago, a certain someone seems to have firmly believed that I’m the one who is leading her forward.

Victor: [x4] No matter how big or small, she seems to subconsciously seek my advice and my embrace.

Victor: [x5] She will cry endlessly in front of me because of a trivial matter. But when faced with real difficulties, she is more courageous than anyone else.

Victor: [x6] And this girl who loves to cry so much, combined with her courage – she made me unable to take my eyes off her.

Victor: [x7] I thought this contradiction in her was part of the reason that made me addicted to her.

Victor: [x8] But now, I have another answer.

I gaze back into his eyes with some puzzlement and see the colors of night outlining the moving expression on Victor’s face. It’s as if he has got the entire world in his arms.

Victor: [x9 + helpless laugh] Dummy, it’s not that you’re incapable of guiding me left or right.

Victor: [x10] Rather, it’s with your ability to use the softest of words, and the most natural of gestures that…

Victor: [x11] –– you have conquered all of me.

The setting sun quietly conceals its appearance, and the pinkish-purple sunset glow is inlaid with infinite stars, bearing witness to everything that has happened on the balcony.

The eyes in front of me are deep and burning hot, as if there are still more words to be said.

But before I can ask, he gently leans into my ear, giving me the best possible answer.

Victor: [x12] What I mean is, I’ve already been conquered by you a long time ago.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

[Anika’s ramblings, feel free to ignore haha]

—

#WITH THAT KIND OF WRITING PG I REALLY HOPE YOU ARE GIVING VICTOR’S WRITING TEAM THE RAISE THEY DESERVE!!! HELLO!?!?#AND NOT JUST THOSE SCENES!!! THE EMOTIONS. THE FLUFF. THEIR RESPECT LOVE PASSION FOR EACH OTHER. THE ABSOLUTE ROMANTICS #AND MC’S “YOU ARE MY CORE” AND MC USING THE TERM “爱” AGAIN HELLO!!! PG GIVE VICTOR’S WRITERS RAISE!!!#AND HIS FOLLOW UP GRAND SPEECH!!! I already documented my thoughts but I FREAKING CAN’T STOP SCREAMING #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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ashturnedtomist · 1 year ago

Text

Keep it Covert: Ch.6

Brand

Keep it Covert Masterlist

Previous | Beginning | Next

Summary: In which, Freelancer tried to see the silver lining.

Based off this post

Read it on Ao3!

TW: Discrimination

Gavin wasn’t typically a worrier. He usually left that to Lasko.

But nothing was more worrying than watching his Deviant spiral like this.

He watched them pace back and forth in their living room. The others left hours ago to call loved ones and to see if they heard anything from D.A.M.N. They had nearly bitten their nails down to stubs, something they had long since given up after they met him.

“Deviant, you’re going to wear a hole into the carpet.”

They paused and turned to face him. “I just- I don’t- what is going on?”

Gavin only sighed and opened his arms. They were quick to bury themself in his embrace.

He rubbed their back. “I don’t know.” He murmured in their ear. “I don’t know.”

They were trembling. “Gavin, I’m scared.” He frowns. He can feel their knots, growing tighter and tighter. “It’ll be fine.” He whispered, not knowing if his words have any truth.

——

Freelancer squinted at their orange bracelet as they held it up to the sunlight, the gold one residing right under. They glanced at their friends’ wrists too. Most of them brandished a gold one as well, for elemental magic, but Gavin’s was pink. For demons. They let out a loud sigh.

“At least they’re pretty.”

Damien snorted. “Of course that’s what you’re focused on.”

Huxley frowned. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that Dames. They’re just trying to find a silver lining.”

The fire elemental crossed his arms indignantly. “I don’t see how practically branding us has a silver lining.”

Gavin heaves out a deep sigh. “For once, I’m going to have to agree with Damien on this one. These aren’t really…my type of bracelets.”

Lasko blinks. “Wh-what is your type of bracelet?”

“Don’t answer that.” Damien cuts in before Gavin can even open his mouth.

The incubus smirks. “Don’t be so boring, Damien.”

Huxley lets out a small chuckle while in the background, you can hear a small “I’m so confused.” from Lasko.

Freelancer smiles.

‘The more things change, the more they stay the same.’

——

“Did you hear? They’re letting that school stay open.”

Freelancer stood in line, waiting for coffee.

“What? The magic one?”

They blinked. Are they talking about D.A.M.N.?

“Yeah! Isn’t that crazy? To think, they’re still going to let those people learn how to use their powers.”

Oh.

“Yeah! Like, what if they turn against us or something. We weren’t all born with the ability to set things on fire and shock things, you know? They make me feel unsafe.”

Freelancer tugs the long sleeve of their sweater down, suddenly feeling like the bright orange metal on their wrist wasn’t so pretty anymore.

Maybe Damien was right.

Maybe it was a brand.

——

Freelancer woke to their phone ringing at 3 am. Gavin groaned from beside them.

“Ignore it.”

Against their boyfriend’s wishes, they reached for their phone, checking the caller ID.

“It’s Huxley,” they murmured in a raspy voice. “I have to answer.”

Gavin grumbled for a few moments before submitting to his partner’s will.

They hit answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Freelancer! Are you awake?”

Huxley’s enthusiastic voice trilled from the other line.

“I am now.” They said sleepily.

“Awesome. Anyway, me and Dames got a call from an old friend—turns out they’re a vampire now, crazy huh?”

“Wait, what-”

“Anyway! They told us about this suuuuper cool club that’s one thousand percent empowered friendly and I was wondering if you and Gavin wanted to check it out with us. Lasko already said yes.”

Freelancer blinked. They rubbed at their eyes blearily.

“I mean. Sure. I’d have to talk to Gavin when he’s more coherent but-”

“Awesome! See you tomorrow night?”

Freelancer blinked again.

“…sure.”

“Cool. Bye!”

The phone beeped, signalling the end of the call and Freelancer flopped back down on the bed.

That was weird.

Note: Y’all, I am so sorry this took so long, but I am literally falling into the fanfic writing stereotypes 😭 School started, and then we had a bomb threat, and then I was having transportation issues, and then my grandfather has been in and out of the hospital for WEEKS, so I’ve just been all over the place.

Anyway! Hope you enjoyed!

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted damn crew #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted gavin #redacted lasko #redacted freelancer #forget covert au #keep it covert #ash turns to mist

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climbthemountain2020 · 9 months ago

Text

Hope of Spring - Chapter 9

Also posted on my Ao3!

Find Ch. 8 here :)

The first things Penny heard when she woke up were male voices she didn’t recognize, blurred on the edges of her consciousness.

She tried to take stock of her body. The cut on her arm felt tender, but no longer felt like an open wound. Her ankle seemed mostly back to normal. Her head was absolutely pounding and her mouth felt dry as though she’d swallowed ash.

Am I in a hospital? The memories of the fight came back to her rapidly, and she was struck with terror that perhaps everything had been a dream, and she was back in her own world, waking up with some sort of traumatic head injury. The thought made her want to burst into tears. I should have kissed him stupid every chance I got.

She heard Tamlin’s voice across and almost sobbed with relief. “She’s going to be okay, though?”

A soft female voice, then. “Yes, she’ll be okay. Let her rest. Her arm has been patched, and her ankle is already healed. The panic attack took a lot out of her, but there’s no reason to think she won’t be perfectly fine when she wakes. She used a large amount of strong magic very abruptly, and from what you told me, it wasn’t one she’d accessed before. She will need to replenish her strength. Lots of rest, and make sure she’s eating.” She could hear Tamlin’s sigh of relief and his agreement from across the room. More voices swam in and out. She could make out Azriel’s voice there, too.

“...But it was the power of my siphons. I would recognize it anywhere. She used it after I helped her up.”

A voice she didn’t recognize. “How is that possible, Az? That’s not something you’ve ever seen, is it?”

Tamlin’s voice responded, tight with irritation. “The claws came out after I grabbed her arms to hold her up. It’s almost like the panic kick-started it. I don’t think she had any idea…”

Penny cracked an eye open and immediately groaned, though the only light in the room came from a few solitary candles. It had been at least six hours since she’d passed out, then, if night had already fallen. When she cracked open her eyes and turned, she was greeted with the sight of Tamlin rushing over to her bedside to grab her hand.

“Hi. Penny, hi.” He sounded breathless as he pressed her knuckles to his lips in a surprisingly intimate gesture that took the breath straight from her chest. He brushed her hair off her forehead, and if she hadn’t felt woozy before, this surely wasn’t helping.

“Hi,” she croaked out. “Is everyone okay?” He grabbed a pitcher of water and a cup from the bedside, poured it, and held it to her lips. Penny struggled to lift her head, but thought it might be the best water she’d ever tasted. She laid her head back down and looked back to Tamlin, the worry still etched across his face.

“Everyone is fine. You used some new magic, and then had a panic attack. We brought you back to the manor. This is Madja. She came from the Night Court to make sure everything was okay.” An older woman with lines carved into her beautiful bronze skin smiled in a way that could only be described as motherly, and Penny’s heart momentarily clenched. Madja sat on the bed, hovering her hands over Penny, and asked “May I?”

Penny nodded, and Madja’s hands began to glow. She ran them up and down, inches above Penny’s body, a feeling like warm water coursing through her. A soft light reflected down from her hands into Penny’s body, but it felt lovely and kind, leaving her with a sense of safety and comfort.

“Everything appears fine. Your arm should be entirely healed by tomorrow. I want you to rest for the remainder of tonight, then take it easy tomorrow. No more backyard battles for a while, hm?”

Penny nodded. “I’ll tell all the terrible ghoulies in the forest that I’m on strict bed rest for the foreseeable future.” Madja smiled at her, and Penny heard chuckles from over by the windows.

It was then she took notice of the owners of the other two voices she’d heard before. Azriel stood near the door with someone who looked incredibly similar to him, save for the missing shadows and violet eyes.

She turned her eyes to Tamlin in shock, not believing for a second he’d let Rhysand inside his home. But Tamlin was only looking at her, relief shining through his eyes so clearly that she would have stumbled if she’d been standing. He pressed his forehead to her hand and closed his eyes.

“I was so worried about you.” He whispered, low enough that it was barely audible. Azriel and Rhysand shared a look with each other before Rhysand cleared his throat. Tamlin’s eyes shot open with an ire that could have killed a lesser being.

“Do you need something, Rhysand?” He snarled through clenched teeth without looking back at the men behind him. Rhys smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets and stepping forward.

“Now, now, Tamlin. No need to get testy. I brought Madja to help, and now I just want to get to know your guest. Penny, is it?” She could tell Tamlin was using every ounce of willpower to not turn and throw him out of the house himself. She pulled herself up to sit against the headboard, a little embarrassed to see she was still wearing her crumpled tunic and pants from earlier, but relieved that no one had tried to change her, either.

“Yes, I’m Penny. Thank you for bringing Madja.” She turned to Madja, who was cleaning up her supplies. “And thank you for taking such good care of me. I will not forget your kindness. Please, if you haven’t already, help yourself to the kitchens. I know it’s late and the staff might have already gone home, but anything you please in there, you’re welcome to.”

She saw Madja and Tamlin both smile. “The High Lord already offered me a delicious dinner.” She shot a look back at Rhys. “We may need to borrow the recipe for that hazelnut cake for the Night Court.”

She finished packing up, and left the room with a look towards Rhys that said you’re treading thin ice. Azriel chuckled under his breath. “I assume, if you’re here, Lucien and Azriel have told you everything you need to know about who I am and what I know.”

“Yes. I am aware of the circumstances. I was hoping that perhaps we could talk.” He said, lightly. She looked to Tamlin, who was intentionally looking at the wall away from Rhys, grinding his teeth, but still holding her hand in his. It was warm against her skin, his fingers clutching hers in a way that left warmth curled up in the cavern of her chest like a sleeping cat. The calluses on his skin pressed against the pads of her fingers and sent a subtle thrill skittering down her spine, leaving goosebumps peppering her forearms. She could feel relief, and fear, and hope, and frustration. She wished he would hold her hand, among other things, like this more often.

A chuckle brought her out of her reverie and her eyes shot up to Rhys, who was looking at her, amused with lifted brows. It occurred to her then that he was, in fact, someone who could read minds, and her cheeks flushed. “Get out of my head, Rhysand, or you can get out of this house,” she all but growled at him.

The amusement in his eyes didn’t fade, but he held his hands up in a gesture of peace. “It was not intentional, my lady. You were shouting your thoughts loudly enough that I didn’t have much of a choice,” he said with a laugh. “On that subject, though, I was hoping that you might let me look and see what you know. It might be easier and more efficient than us trying to ask questions and trade information back and forth.”

Penny was opening her mouth to agree that that probably was the better course of action when Tamlin sprung up from next to the bed and whirled on Rhys. She felt the response to his power rise in her veins like a tidal wave, her power writhing in her and pulling like a beast on a chain to rise with it. The pain in her head was sharp, and she choked the magic back down.

“She has just been attacked,” he roared across the room. “You’ll stay the fuck out of her head until she recovers and gives you explicit permission. Am I clear?” Penny moved to grab Tamlin’s clenched fist from the bed.

“It’s alright, Tamlin. I do want to help, but perhaps we could do this in a few days? I am incredibly tired, and Madja did tell me to rest.” She smiled innocently up at them. After a deep breath, Tamlin turned back to sit on the side of the bed again, unfurling his clenched fist and winding his fingers back around her own. Another shared look between Rhys and Azriel didn’t escape Penny’s notice.

“Of course, Penny. We’ll come back in a few days. We appreciate your willingness to help.” With a short incline of his chin and a smug grin, he and Azriel stepped out of the room, and Tamlin’s entire body relaxed.

She released his hand, but scooted back over on the bed, patting the spot where she’d been when he raised his head to look at her. He pulled himself up, untied his boots and took them off, then climbed to sit next to her, leaning back against the headboard. She found herself immediately missing the warm comfort of his hand. She took him in–he looked as rumpled as she did. His shirt was wrinkled as though he hadn’t left her bedside in the hours they’d been here, his hair mussed like he’d been running his hands through it. He spoke without opening his eyes.

“I was so scared when I rode up to you fighting them today. I was terrified I would be too late. But you…you were incredible. I have never seen anything like what you did today, Penny.” Without another word, he moved so that their shoulders were touching, and he pulled her hand back into his. Butterflies erupted in her chest and stomach, and she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together to keep a giggle from bubbling out of her throat.

“I was scared, too.” She admitted. “Seeing them trying to hurt you…I have never felt terror and rage like that. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to help you. That I'd gotten into this mess and that you would die because of me.” He lifted her hand to his mouth again and placed the gentlest of kisses against the back of her hand. A shudder went through her body at the touch, and she knew there was absolutely no way he didn’t notice.

“Thank you for listening to me. Trusting me. Knowing your history with them, you have no idea what it means to me that you are still choosing to take my side and let me make my own choices.” She felt him exhale a deep breath. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to have them here, in the manor.”

“Penny, I don’t think you understand the lengths I would go to to make you happy.” Her breath caught in her throat, and she dared a look over at him. His head was tipped back against the headboard, but now his eyes were focused solely on her. The absolute devotion in them was enough to undo her entirely. “It isn’t easy, and it never will be to trust them. But I trust you. You make me want to be different–to be better. I can’t make you trust me, and I won’t make you stay. But I would like for you to. I would like it if you'd consider this your home.”

She took a deep breath, remembering the sour regret she’d felt burning through her more than once today, and decided to make the jump. “What if I told you that I was the most afraid that I would die in this world without ever having kissed you?” she breathed out. His eyes widened, but before he could stop himself or she could second guess, his hand was at her jaw tipping her face up to meet his.

“Thank the gods.” He whispered, closing the space between them.

With his thumb along her cheek, he brushed his lips against hers in the lightest caress, and Penny thought someone might as well have been setting off explosives for the shock of electricity that she felt rip through her. She leaned in and let his hand slide to gather the hair at the back of her neck as she deepened the kiss.

It felt like every cliché movie she’d watched and book she’d read. Symphonies could have been going in the background as her tongue glided along the seam of his mouth and he opened for her. She shifted her body towards him, her hand dancing lightly along his collar, serving to anchor her to this earth. She thought that maybe nothing had ever felt so perfect, so right, until this moment.

They pulled apart to breathe, and he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that,” he chuckled. She couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from her throat this time.

“All this time I’ve been so afraid to ruin this. I should have kissed you before a near-fatal situation.” They pressed their foreheads together as they laughed and shared breath.

“Stay with me tonight? I don’t want to sleep alone,” she asked, grabbing his hand to pull around her waist as she lowered herself down into the bed.

“I will stay with you as long as you want me, Penelope Briggs.” He murmured back, turning to blow out the candle and curling into the space behind her back as though he’d belonged there all along.

________________

In the morning, Penny woke to the most delicious warmth she’d ever felt. It was as though she’d been cocooned in the glow of the sun. She felt well-rested in a way that she hadn’t in maybe years, her body coming awake without hesitation. She could hear the gentle drumming of a heartbeat, and each pulse echoed and danced with her own. Without opening her eyes, she smiled, remembering that she’d asked Tamlin to stay with her, and he had obliged.

In the night, she’d rolled to press her face against his chest, the muslin of his tunic bunched beneath her cheek, surely leaving lines in her skin. She couldn’t bring herself to care. He smelled like the forest after rain, like the first, earthen blooms of spring. He smelled like the days after a long winter when she would stay out from dawn to dusk, until her parents all but begged her to come back inside. He smelled like home.

“Are you just going to sniff me all day, Sunshine?” He asked, and his voice, rough with sleep, shot a curl of arousal all the way down to her toes.

“I am not sniffing you, stupid. I am breathing slowly and waking up peacefully. Or, I was, until you opened your big mouth,” she said with a smile. He chuckled in response, craning his head to place the softest kiss on her crown of her head. “You stayed with me.”

“You asked me to.” He responded, as if it were the most simple thing in the world.

“Thank you.” She turned to place a kiss on his chest as she sat up, stretching. “I don’t feel injured at all, really. My arm is a little tender, but nothing like I was expecting.” Tamlin sat up too, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Not that we spent a lot of time leisurely catching up, but Rhysand seems to think that you’re immortal. Not quite fae, but definitely not human. You heal like we do. And you wielded Azriel’s powers, then mine.”

“I suppose that’s something we’ll need to address.” She was interested to learn more, but the thought of the previous afternoon and the stress of seeing the man she cared about in danger had her absolutely reeling and exhausted again. She dramatically flopped back against the bed, landing with her head by his lap. “Can’t we just stay here?”

He leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips. The kiss was sweet, but the words he whispered in her ear were not. “I can think of a great many things we could do if we stayed here.” Penny blushed about ten shades of red as Tamlin rose from the bed. “Come on and get dressed. Let’s get something to eat and we can see what your magic can do.” He winked at her before he exited the room and closed the door behind him.

______________________

After plying her full of food and ensuring repeatedly that she wasn’t going to collapse, Tamlin and Penny went out to the hills beyond the garden to see if she could use her magic again. After the previous night, something vital had shifted between them. Every touch brought what felt like literal sparks between them, every too-long glance had the breath burning through Penny’s lungs. When he grabbed her hand to see if she could harness his magic, she never wanted him to let go.

Penny was having trouble focusing long enough to make anything happen. Since she’d already made shifting happen once, they tried to start there, but simply willing it into existence wasn’t working for her like it had when she’d tried with the candle.

“Try thinking of yourself. Visualize how you look in your body right now. Now take that image and change something small about it. Really just focus on that one small change.” Penny thought about turning her hair blonde like Tamlin’s since she could visualize it easily, especially since tangling her hands through his hair had been on her mind all morning.

She could hear Tamlin cackling before he croaked out “What on earth were you imagining?” She cracked an eye open long enough to see her hair was falling in a tangled mass above her eyes. Fantastic. She flopped down to sit on the ground dramatically with a great huff of breath.

“This is a lot harder than it was yesterday.”

“Well, you were under massive amounts of stress yesterday. Big emotions can bring heavy magic out of us, but it’s not controlled or safe. You can’t rely on big bursts of emotions to use your magic, or you’ll always be out of control with it. Trust me, because I did this for far too long and it only served to ruin my life and hurt those around me. You must learn to operate your magic outside of your emotional response, or you’ll never have a handle on it.” Penny nodded resolutely, hearing the message he was allowing himself to be vulnerable and covey, and tried again.

She opened her eyes to his beautiful smile through a sheet of purple hair falling over her eyes. “I did it!” She screamed.

“You did it,” he echoed, kissing her again on the brow. “Soon, this will be second nature, and you’ll be able to shift larger aspects of yourself. I’m not sure how much power you borrow when you do this, but I don’t feel depleted at all. I will be curious to see how much you get and how far you can extend it.”

“Will you train me?” She asked, hopeful he would be willing to keep doing this. She trusted him, and this felt like something where trust was paramount to success. Plus, he knew what he was doing, and it didn’t hurt that she already enjoyed spending time with him. “I know you’re busy, and I know that you’re already helpful me with training, but–”

“Of course, Penny.” He must have noted the surprise on her face, because he walked over to grab her hands. She looked up to him, feeling again like she might run the risk of getting distracted by the colors of his eyes. “I don’t ever want you to be in a situation again where you feel you can’t defend yourself. I will do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen. And I would love to train you. Gives me an excuse to spend more time with you.” She noted the gleam in his eyes a second before he reached out and hauled her over his shoulder as she shrieked.

“Put me down, you great beast!” She cackled, as he began walking them back towards the house. She half-heartedly whacked her fists against his back while he chuckled.

“I’m sorry, what?” He yelled, pretending to cup his ear. “I can’t hear you from all the way up here, you’ll have to speak–” His whole body tensed as they rounded the corner of the front of the manor.

One face, lilted with unhidden amusement, and three others, absolutely mired with shock. Lucien, Azriel, and Rhysand had come back, and they’d brought Cassian with them.

#tamlin #tamlin oc #tamlin x oc #acotar #a court of thorns and roses au #a court of thorns and roses #feysand #elucien #gwynriel #pro tamlin #tamdemption #tamlins hea #nessian #hope of spring

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